STALLS in Haiti with the palace in the background.

Published On:Monday, February 08, 2010

By SHAUN INGRAHAM

TODAY I drove through the downtown area of the city for the fist time along with fellow Rotarian George Nicolas (I now call him St Nic after all of his distribution efforts). I was on the phone with fellow Rotarian Dick McCombe who was back in Nassau trying to co-ordinate the arrival of another flight of medicine and other logistical support. I mentioned to Dick that the best way that I could describe it was like a bomb had been dropped in the centre of town. Building after building had either partially or totally collapsed. The most striking of all was the palace, the central nerve of the government and the symbol of prosperity and stability.

The government has abandoned the city centre for obvious reasons and the internally displaced people now occupy the side walks, park areas, and even the rooftops. Tents and tarps were everywhere. Hanging on the security rails were the laundry of the new inhabitants of the city streets.

As we passed the new living quarters of the displaced, we looked into the eyes and faces of the people. It was hard to read their thoughts but their actions suggested that it was business as usual. No matter what happened on the other side of the palace fence, the people know that for the most part, they have to pretty much make life happen themselves.

They bought out their daily goods that they had for sale, in some cases you could even get the latest in aid rations at a great price. A staff member of an one aid organisation, after seeing one of their kits for sale, joked and said they could buy the disaster kit cheaper on the street then they had bought them from the manufacturer.

Some of the newly displaced were repositioning or strengthening their tents. A common scene in and around the camps is persons either clothed or partially nude washing from a broken tap or a barrel of water. There seems to be a deliberate attempt to stay clean. The lack of privacy makes it difficult for one to take photos or be fully engaged with the local community. The occasional child begging for food or water from afar or running behind our vehicle was heart wrenching. We know there is not a lack of food in Haiti as the food stores have reopened. We do know that there is a distribution problem.

As night began to fall and we began to leave the city, we realised that people were beginning to line the streets with their bedding. Since the earthquake, no one in the affected area has slept in their houses, as they are afraid that another quake might happen and their fate might be the same as the 250,000 estimated to have died. So, Port au Prince has become almost a totally outdoor population. Tent cities have been set up on roof tops, in the middle of the streets, next to dumps and even in front of the palace. It should be noted however, not every tent is the same.

A few of my friends have asked me how this disaster is any different from the others that I have been involved in. After reflecting on this over the past few days I am now ready to attempt to answer this question.

My first reaction is "different script same cast". When I arrived in Haiti I was less optimistic about it recovering to a brighter day than I had been arriving in any other country. The streets were swarming with people, garbage and vehicles of international non-governmental organisations (NGOs). Most of them have been here for years and others have just arrived. One Haitian journalist on a radio station stated that all they do is hang out at local clubs and drink. Another colleague pointed out when I complained about spending half my day in traffic, "There are too many people here". Although I didn't ask her what she meant by this statement, what I think she meant was that there are too many outsiders coming to tell the Haitian people what they must do.

Another Haitian colleague and friend pointed out that in the rest of the world, it is estimated that 20 per cent of aid goes to administration, while in Haiti, this figure is estimated at 80 per cent. This means that only 20 per cent of all aid actually reaches the point of greatest need. This might explain why in the land of so many NGOs, it seems like little progress is being made.

The apparent lack of natural resources increases my doubt of a brighter day. Banda Aceh had oil, South Africa had diamonds and Grenada has sunny beaches and great harbours. There are no multinational companies pushing their way into Haiti. In fact the trend tends to be the opposite in the last few years. They seem to want to get out.

There is also the issue of a government that has very little to offer its people at this time. The president has complained on the radio that most of the aid is going to aid groups. Therefore, leaving the government with very little funds to operate.

When I left Indonesia after the tsunami and Grenada after Hurricane Ivan, I left knowing that things would get better. I did have doubts about South Africa, which I was almost sure would have erupted into civil war just before the elections. But in each of these situations, the right leader or economic opportunity or shift in the national consciousness or even a well planned civil sector, helped bring about a more sustainable economy. None of these are readily evident in Haiti. There are however some very dim flickers of hope. I came into contact with a few of them, and I will share their story in my future writings. A little investment in certain projects can go a long way.

The truth is, like my colleague said, the problem might be there are just too many people in Haiti. Like a good missiologist friend of mine used to say, "We have to make sure our help is helpful".