haiti1

At the end of my first full day I lay on my cot and scribbled first impressions in a rumpled notebook, trying not to let those initial reactions to this surreal experience slip away. That was just five short days ago, and as I look back now at those late night sentence fragments, it may as well have been a month ago. I had almost forgotten the marathon hours on a disaster response – the intensity, the hustling from place to place, constantly adapting to changing circumstances, frustrations, challenges. It is just about overwhelming, particularly with the “camping” aspect thrown in, but I’m afloat and smiling, most of the time :)

I have absolutely no idea where to start in trying to describe things here. It’s been a whirlwind induction into a massive, complex operation in an equally complicated country. The destruction is widespread. Around Port au Prince the damage is scattered and varied – many of the larger buildings are completely collapsed while perhaps not even half of the smaller homes and businesses sustained visible damage. The roads are clear for the most part and debris removal is underway on a small scale, which is more than I anticipated. People are outside everywhere, both in makeshift camps and just walking around. To me, this indicates both the vitality and resilience of the Haitian population as well as a pervasive fear of being inside should another earthquake occur. Outside the capital city, toward the epicenter of the quake, the damage is much more severe and few buildings in the small cities I visited yesterday are still standing. Roadways were buckled but still passable for the most part. Little assistance appeared to have arrived there, with our RC water tanks and trucks being the lone exception.

Our relief operations here are in overdrive, but stymied by pre and post earthquake conditions. We’ve targeted the most vulnerable populations, but often those are the most difficult to reach with our heavy trucks carrying thousands of pounds worth of supplies. It’s an almost hourly exercise of revising plans and strategies, while still trying to keep what is working moving at warp speed. I honestly have never seen anything this complicated, perhaps only because my in-depth tsunami work was months afterwards. At this stage, it’s just so much more complex as effective systems and processes are established that work within an ever-changing environment. Yes, our teams are pros at this kind of work, but each disaster presents a whole new set of challenges to address and, eventually, to learn from. So, yes, we are struggling to get all the supplies out that people need, but are solving problems almost as fast as the crop up, so I remain optimistic!

What IS working well are the field hospitals, the health promotion and psychosocial teams visiting camps and communities, the one million liters of clean water being provided daily to thousands of displaced families, and a cool new text messaging system that reaches millions daily with relief information and health and safety messages. I have met amazing people – both the infinitely patient Haitians and the other Red Cross folks here from around the world. Among the unforgettable ones so far are the Canadian RC psychosocial delegate at the children’s hospital who carried a stuffed penguin in her vest pocket and had a nametag made of duct tape with only a smiley face drawn on it; the two young Haitian RC volunteers who worked all day to help their brothers and sisters recover in what they described as their “broken” country, even though they, too, were homeless and sleeping outside at night; the big burly American RC logistics lead (who I knew from years ago at HQ) who broke down crying telling me about an orphanage he visited a few days ago. I’ll carry home with me the sounds of the children laughing in the recovery area of the field hospital – even though their legs and arms were immobilized in traction as they recovered, their spirits were high, and they filled my own heart with hope during my first few days amid the destruction.

Yesterday, I joined a team of Colombian RC volunteers who were planning a distribution to 1,400 families (or so I thought), but their trucks and supplies had complications and instead of cancelling on the community that was actually 14,000 people, they improvised and did health promoting games and activities instead. No one complained or grumbled or boo-ed that they showed up empty-handed, they were just excited to have them there. The kids and the volunteers together made it an unforgettable day.

And that’s really been the theme of my time here so far – making the best out of difficult situations. Yes, I’m camping daily with 300+ of my new closest friends. But we have refreshingly chilly showers after long hot days, port-a-potties that my tent is not next to anymore, and a vast amount of bonding time. The first person I saw when I walked into the camp earlier this week was a Canadian friend from Banda Aceh, so I was welcomed here with a giant hug. And today, after more than three years, I had a long-overdue reunion with the last of my housemates from Banda who I hadn’t seen since I left, and like so many of my other RC friends, it’s always like no time has passed.

So, if you’re wondering what our set-up here looks like, there is a great “base camp” multimedia short piece on You Tube= http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6R15ijI2gM

And if you just go to the “AmRedCross” channel there are lots of little short, casual clips myself and others have taken over the past few weeks. They are small glimpses into the work, and hopefully, in the coming days I’ll be able to add much more. I have had little time to sort through photos, but when and if I ever go home, I’ll try to do a full album online. In the meantime, there’s tons of stuff here about our programs overall and likely soon some of it will be from yours truly = http://newsroom.redcross.org/

Thanks for all the love, prayers, good vibes and facebook comments – keep ‘em coming, and I’ll do my best to do the same!