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| bank in Port-au-Prince [still occupied] |
It has been less than sixty hours since Alex and I have arrived in Ayiti [Haiti] and yet to me, it feels like we have been here forever. We have seen so much and have learned an incredible amount. I am both excited and exhausted by everything that I am trying to absorb.
On Tuesday, the first real day in Port-au-Prince we were picked up around 10 AM by Dorce who is one of the "Train The Trainers" students whom we befriended back in June, in Boston. He arrived in his private, white, four door, Ford Ranger pick-up truck missing the passenger side tail light (completely absent from the vehicle). His plan was to drive us around the city so that we could begin to take it all in. Now, keep in mind the roads are comprised of almost all dirt, stone and boulder with very serious pot holes. When I say pot holes I really mean a grown man could bath in these craters should it begin to rain. The types of holes that would require a team of seven union workers and two police officers to fix back in Boston. In effect, everyone must either drive a truck or SUV. We have seen a few Honda Civics with aftermarket spoilers, but to be completely honest I don't think they make it very far in such out of context vehicles. Don't get me wrong, there are some nicely engineered road systems here. The only trouble is that there is no maintenance done to the infrastructure unless it is performed by ambitious citizens like Monsieur Pierre Louis, Stéphane's father who is an engineer, a business owner and a large contributor to the local community.
Our expedition was incredibly varied in what we were able to see. Just starting down the road that Stéphane lives on was an experience in itself. Not only did the ride feel like an off-road adventure as the car shook and our heads bobbed in unison, but as we passed through the twelve-foot wide road, walled with one-story buildings, clothing, food and miscellaneous goods, a highly dense number of men, women and children successfully performing their daily business with two-way traffic ripping by in all makes, models, years and sizes.
One thing that became very apparent as the road trip progressed was the incredible presence the UN has here in Ayiti. I would say that for every ten civilian vehicles, there are at least two UN patrol vehicles present on the road at all times. There are what seems to be close to a dozen UN bases in Port-au-Prince. Each base housing soldiers from countries like Korea, Japan, Brazil, Canada, the U.S. and the list goes on. What was strange to me is that I have always thought of a military presence occupying a foreign land to be a symbol of violence and oppression. Here in Ayiti, the occupation of any military, though not well received, seems to bring a sense of security, of hope and of structure.
In my mind, as a visitor of this beautifully landscaped nation, the UN has been the only sign of structure or order at all. Everything else is simply chaotic and arbitrary.
As the day moved on we were able to see the obvious sites; endless tent cities, dismantled public space, endless city blocks of buildings that have either fallen down, fallen over, pancaked slab after slab of concrete or dissolved into a pile of rubble with the only clue of a structure ever existing on site being a vast number of twisted and exposed rebar pushing through the debris like steel dandelions finding growth in the cracks of a broken sidewalk.
Now, Dorce is an electrical mechanical engineer and half way through the day he was called off to a job. We stopped dead center in the city at what once was the very beautiful National Palace of Haiti standing tall and proud. And now sits broken and slouched as if it were widowed from its soul mate.
All around the capital are tents, tents and more tents. Mostly made of blue tarps, dismantled billboard vinyl or actual tensile structures bearing "USAID from the american people". We watched as men, women and children went on with their day to day routine in conditions that were far from civilized or sanitary but yet seemed to have become normal over the past eight months.
From here, we swapped vehicles and drivers only to meet with another "Train The Trainer", Sergo. We continued to drive up and around the downtown area which received the hardest hit and the largest amount of damage. This is where the banks, the schools and all of the Ministries (political buildings) once were.
Stéphane pointed out a number of very important schools that have been completely destroyed, including her old high school which is entirely gone.
"I don't even recognize where I am. I used to have buildings to reference where I was in the city.
Now there is nothing. I don't even know where anything is anymore"
I personally cannot begin to imagine what she was feeling as her childhood stomping grounds have all been erased.
Looking at photos of what P-a-P once was with her;
"I wish I could know that Haiti".
What do you say to this person who has lost all evidence of her history but yet still remains so strongly calm and cool?
I don't know how to respond to her words, other than to encourage hope that it can be that way again... someday. I feel horrible and helpless. I wish there were something I could do or say to make her confident that she will know her Haiti again someday.
Who am I to make promises?
So if you are still reading at this point, I know I have you hooked and I think now is a very important time to point out not only the devastation but the strength of Ayiti.
We proceeded to move through many neighborhoods that were completely unaffected by the quake. We saw beautiful homes and strong buildings. We saw thousands upon thousands of people working to clean up, to maintain the economy to repair and refurbish what remains.
Unlike what the American media has shown me, the city has survived. People are still here, working, living, surviving but more importantly, laughing and hanging out amongst the destruction. It is as though the people have just adapted to the conditions and will continue on no matter what the conditions. It is both inspiring and a little disturbing. I say disturbing only because it seems as though this laid-back, passive culture is simply beginning to embrace the damage and accept it for what it is rather than to want to rebuild and change the technique that failed them.
They are simply rebuilding in the only ways they know how.
