Te Tremble--The Haitian Earth Trembled

PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti - Te tremble is
Haitian Creole for "earthquake." Its literal translation: "The earth
trembled." After the massive earthquake that devastated Haiti, the
stench of death is everywhere. At General Hospital, bodies had been
stacked 4 feet high near the morgue. In the community house called
Matthew 25, doctors laid out a plastic tablecloth to perform a
kitchen-table amputation, aided by headlamps. The injured Haitian man
in his 20s might be considered fortunate: He was among the minority of
injured people getting medical attention. And, unlike many amputations
being performed elsewhere in Haiti, the doctors who arrived Monday were
using anesthesia they had brought.

While this grim amputation was happening,
an unexpected delivery of food aid arrived. Matthew 25 House typically
accommodates 35 guests. Now more than 1,000 are there, camped out in
the adjoining soccer field. There has been much reporting on the
concerns about possible riots and violence that aid distribution might
provoke. We witnessed the polar opposite, because an established
community group was empowered to distribute the food. People lined up
and got their supplies, leaving undisturbed the difficult surgery being
conducted nearby. This has been typical as we've traveled through the
catastrophe: People with nothing-hungry, thirsty, seeking their loved
ones, burying their dead, caring for their injured-have shown
fortitude, civility and compassion despite their quiet desperation.

We went to the home of Myriam Merlet, the
chief of staff of the Haitian Ministry of Women. She helped draw
international attention to the use of rape as a political weapon and
worked with playwright and activist Eve Ensler on the V-Day movement to
help end violence against women. We found her house, indeed the entire
surrounding community, destroyed. "We have just pulled her body out,"
they told us Sunday, five days after the earthquake. There is no
telling when she died, or whether she might have been rescued. Her
sister Eartha brought us to her fresh grave.

We ventured beyond Port-au-Prince, to the
earthquake's epicenter, past Carrefour to Leogane. A United Nations
assessment put the level of destruction in Leogane at 80 percent to 90
percent of structures destroyed, with no remaining government
buildings. On the way, a young man hailed our car, saying: "Please, we
see some helicopters overhead, but they don't stop here. We have no
aid. We have no food."

One man covered in dust was using a mallet
to break the cement that had entombed his grandfather. A father nearby
had just dug out his 1-year-old baby, dead in his playpen. According to
Agence France-Presse, the U.N. warned it cannot "extend their aid
operation to outlying areas until security there can be confirmed."
Traveling to Leogane, we felt no threat; we only saw people in dire
need of help. While we were in Leogane, a missionary helicopter landed,
then inexplicably lifted off again, and the crew began hurling loaves
of bread to the ground. Young Haitian men grew incensed. One cried,
tearing up the rolls and yelling, "We are not dogs for you to throw
bones at!"

We spoke with the mayor of Leogane, Alexis Santos, who seemed almost
helpless before the near-total destruction around him. I asked him, in
light of the unified front offered by the U.S. government, with
President Barack Obama naming former Presidents Bill Clinton and George
W. Bush to lead the U.S. response, what he thought about the offer of
Jean-Bertrand Aristide-the ousted former president of Haiti-to return
to Haiti from exile in South Africa to stand with Haitian President
Rene Preval, a united front to help the recovery. Santos, by no means
an Aristide supporter, told me he thought it would be a good idea.

Back at Matthew 25 House (named after the
biblical verse "Whatever you do for my least brothers and sisters, you
do for me"), I spoke with one of the surgeons. Dr. Jennifer Bruny, who
flew down with other doctors from Children's Hospital in Denver,
performed the amputation earlier. The nature of the disaster, with
thousands of crushing injuries, and the lack of care for so much time
make amputation one of the only means available now to save lives.
"This amputation should not have been necessary," she told me. "This
could have been easily treated earlier. These people needed help
sooner."

Denis Moynihan contributed research to this column.