Our Hands and Help for Haiti

Last
week my daughter, Tanya, and I embarked on a trip to Haiti. We
packed, with the help of some very good friends, 5 large duffle bags of
food and medical supplies to carry to the people who were terribly
stricken by the January 12^th earthquake, and the ensuing
aftermath.

It's very hard to put into
words what we witnessed. We felt profound sadness and saw destruction of
a magnitude that cannot be rivaled. I realize that we are
not "disaster relief" experts, and therefore have not been around to
see other tragedies, but I doubt that anything can match what we saw
when we went into Port au Prince one month after the earthquake.

The two of us wanted to help
with our own hands, not just by throwing money at the hundreds of NGO's and other groups who wanted
donations from the world. We felt it was better for the people of Haiti
to actually put a face to the help they wanted and needed desperately.
Caring about humanity means more than shaking our heads in
horror.

After speaking with Tyler
Westbrook, a friend, we came up with a plan to travel to Santo Domingo,
DR, and then to "Good Samaritan Hospital" located on the border of Haiti
in Jimani, DR. Tyler and I know each other from years of
anti-war protests and street activism. He has been
documenting anti-war actions on WhyNotNews.org. Being the
mother of a US Marine who did three tours, one in Afghanistan and two in
Iraq, I am opposed to all wars and am against the growing US Empire.
Over the last 9 years I have developed a perspective as to what
has happened and will continue to happen to countries such as Haiti
where US oppression and intervention has caused people so much pain and
suffering.

Initial Greetings

When we left Santo Domingo
early Tuesday morning we met Paul, who we didn't know at the time would
be our guide throughout the trip. Paul was traveling home
to Haiti to see his family for the first time since the quake. He
didn't lose anyone, but this was his first time back and didn't know
what to expect. It took us 6 hours on a long bus ride to
Jimani, where we were met by Tyler and a priest from a Haitian
orphanage, Rev. Bourdeau. Piling our supplies in the back
of the pickup truck, my daughter on top, we drove to the hospital.
A brand new structure the hospital sat alone amongst huts and
shacks. Inside the compound were about 100 patients with
all kinds of horrific injuries from the collapse of buildings inside
Haiti, along with about 100 doctors, nurses, EMT's, and staff who
volunteered on their own time and dollar to respond to this tragedy.

Three huge tents were
arranged on the grounds, and inside, beds strewn about on top of dirt
and rocks with patients ranging from infants to adults, all with broken
bodies being mended by the adept hands of the medical teams. We
were lucky to stay there. The hospital had rooms for us
with beds and bathrooms. When we first started our trip we
were prepared to sleep in a tent on sleeping bags in the middle of
Haiti if we had to. But as luck would have it, that was
not the case.

Upon our arrival, we jumped
into medical scrubs and started working. Tanya assisted in
the operating room, mopping up blood from an amputation which was
performed on a young woman whose arm was infected. This,
we found out, was the norm. A limb being taken to save a
life was standard procedure in the aftermath of the quake. We
witnessed it first hand on our first day. Later on that
afternoon, a 6 month old baby died from internal infections. And
so our trip started.

Dominican Republic Military
Guards

The next day we discovered
that the military was posted around the hospital to keep the patients
from leaving. The local military chief stopped by to say
that they were going to close the hospital to Haitian patients in 2
weeks. The medical staff was extremely upset, and were now
rushed to care for the sick only to send them away.

Politics once again played a
role. It seems that the DR's patience had run out for the
Haitian community, and was chasing them out of the country. There
was never any love lost between the two, but in a time of a disaster,
you hope that barriers would be dismantled. That was not
the case, and this particular hospital was in danger of being shut down
much sooner than it had anticipated.

The Trip into Haiti

Paul returned on Wednesday
morning to take us into Port au Prince. We had medical
supplies and food we wanted to distribute. Heading into
Haiti our first stop would be the orphanage. Our mission
was to find a Haitian village that we could help rebuild or support, and
we decided we would devote ourselves to helping these orphans. It
was a 2 hour trip that rocked all of my senses. The
border alone was enough to make you weep. People crawling
all over each other, trying to buy food, ship food, sell food, and the
border guards patrolling amongst the smells and dust. On
our way into the city, we saw tents everywhere, along the side of the
roads, and in open spaces. This was just the beginning.

We arrived at the orphanage
compound encircled by a gate, and when it opened, we were greeted with
dancing, smiling, singing children that brought an overwhelming feeling
of happiness as well as grief to all of us. They sang a
song that they had created, singing in French. The words
were of praise and hope for a better future; that we would help them
rebuild their roof that had collapsed in the quake, and get them beds to
sleep on. We shed tears for the millions of people who
were suffering. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mv7S4YAtnQQ

When they finished, we gave
the Reverend rice, bandages, anti-bacterial ointments, baby formula, and
an array of other things that they had never seen before. They
cried for joy! I understand why people work in disaster
relief because there is no other feeling like giving to those who need
it most, directly from your hands to theirs.

We stayed for some time at
the orphanage located in Croix des Bouquet, outside Port au Prince, in a
bustling community, but eventually headed into the city.

Port au Prince

The drive took us longer
than we expected and Paul was striken by what he saw. He
said the streets of Port au Prince had gradually over the last 5 years
become full of people selling their goods, but this was nothing like he
had ever seen before. There were military trucks
everywhere, with troops carrying machine guns, and they were from every
nation. Stopping at the US Embassy we spoke with the
marines who were on guard duty. I identified myself as the
mother of a US marine, and they were happy to see us. They
said "glad to see Americans." I asked them how they felt
about being there and one young marine responded by saying "When they
told me I was going to Haiti, I was excited. I thought I
would be helping people but all I am doing is standing around in the
heat with a gun. I'm ready to go home."

And that's what they were
doing. Everywhere. In trucks, humvees, on
the streets, standing around in flak jackets with guns. Or
sitting in the trucks with guns. While the Haitian people
were digging themselves out. I couldn't believe my eyes,
even though I half expected to see this scene. The streets
were teaming with dust, people, cars, motorcycles, dogs, goats, cows
and military vehicles. The smell ranged from putrid to
horrific. And mixed in was some food cooking. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8WUxxfijtRU

There were makeshift tents
everywhere, people living on top of the rubble of destroyed buildings,
with traffic all around them. The feeling in the air was
one of desperation, even though those living on the streets were trying
to put their lives back together. As far as the eye could
see people were moving around, bathing, eating, sleeping, talking,
singing, getting on with their lives.

The history of Haiti is one
of constant upheaval, and oppression. On top of the abject
poverty already in existence, people are living in the rubble of homes
they were attempting to rebuild. Every single structure
for miles had been damaged in one way or another. As we
drove up the mountains, we saw Haitians still digging themselves out.
Not once, and I mean not once, did I see anyone else helping
them. They had small shovels, or buckets; they carried
wood or bags of cement on their heads back to where their homes once
were, trying to rebuild.

Where Has All the Help Gone

The world wept for Haiti on
the evening of January 12^th, and immediately donation lines
were set up by every single NGO and then some, to collect donations to
"help Haiti." Over $644 million, and possibly more, was
collected worldwide.

The United States government announced
that they would send $100 million in aid to Haiti, a fraction of the
costs of the occupations being conducted in the middle east; and 2,200
marines, which then climbed almost immediately to 22,000 marines,
soldiers and sailors. The troops began landing in Port au
Prince on Sunday, January 17^th, five days after the
devastating quake. Defense Secretary Gates told
reporters on a flight to India there would be a security
element to U.S. relief efforts, but added: "I haven't heard of us
playing a policing role at any point." Asked about rules
of engagement, he said "as anywhere we deploy our troops, they have the
authority and the right to defend themselves." "And they also have the
right to defend innocent Haitians and members of the international
community if they see something happen," he said. So much
for humanitarian aid.

With the critical need for
doctors and supplies, the US government chose to send in troops. What
I personally witnessed was just the opposite of what Secretary Gates
announced. The troops were policing. If they
were participating in any relief efforts, it was minimal. Everywhere
we drove we saw Italian, French, Canadian, and US military personnel
and vehicles. Most of the time holding up the traffic,
causing more congestion than was necessary, and not completely
participating in relief efforts.

The non-military personnel
were helping the most in the hospitals and clinics, as we found out not
only with the DR hospital, but on our trip to the Haiti National
Hospital close to the military controlled airport.

On our second day in Port au
Prince, we transported medical staff to the orphanage to examine the 53
children who needed care. From there we travelled back
into the epicenter of the quake. We got inside the
National hospital, and spoke with the Chief of the Emergency Clinic.
Since there were so many doctors at the hospital back in the DR,
there was a possibility of getting some of the staff to the Haitian
side if they needed more hands. Which they did. One
month later, this hospital, that turned no one away, was overflowing
with patients, inside and outside. Of course guarding it
were marines and soldiers, who escorted us around the grounds. We
saw hundreds of people mostly with leg, arm, body casts, broken jaws,
facial restructuring with metal rods, and other
monumentally horrible injuries. The mood in the hospital
of profound despair, not only the medical staff but the patients.
Although it was teaming with people, it was relatively quiet.

That's when it finally hit
me. Between the oppressive heat and extreme dust in the
air, I started to feel sick. Had this really happened?
How would these people ever recover from this mess? Why
aren't there more people helping? Where is all the aid
and money donated from around the world? Why are they
struggling so much, and are they angry or sad or both? This
Country is ripe for revolution.

Driving back to the
orphanage to pick up the rest of our team of medical staff, it started
to get dark. There was no electricity throughout the city,
and only random lights run by local generators. The
orphanage was dark and the children were waiting for us outside. Massive
mosquitoes swarmed us as we headed back for the border. However,
it was 8 pm, and the border closed by 6 PM when the gates are locked.
We were 2 hours away.

Once we arrived at the
border gates the guards refused to unlock them. However, a
medical technician with us brought medical face masks. He
said the guards always needed them and our gift might get us through.
Within a few minutes of showing them the masks, they opened up
the lock, and allowed us safe passage.

Back to Port au Prince

On our third day into the
epicenter, we once again transported medical staff, but this time they
were four medical students. They had travelled on their
own dime to help, and by now the hospital in the DR had less than 80
patients, and too many doctors. Our stop at the orphanage
was a regular visit now, but these med students carried with them enough
shoes, toys, candy and some soccer balls for the kids. The
Reverend lined up the children, smallest first, and they received
shoes, which they had asked for the day before. We gave
them candy, and left for the national hospital while they were singing
goodbye.

We drove past the palace
again to show them the devastation and the tent city set up right across
the street. I also wanted to hand out whatever medical
supplies and food I had left in the bags, and thought that doctors in
scrubs might do the trick. But when we arrived, people
swarmed the truck. Leaving quickly, we took the med
students to the national hospital. The marines let us in
and we saw the Chief of the ER, who took all four of our passengers
immediately and put them to work on setting up a new medical tent since
1,000 more patients had come in that day. One woman had
her lower body crushed by the quake, but did not seek medical treatment
until then and reports of typhoid and malaria outbreaks had just
surfaced. The medical students thanked us for taking them
there and told us that we had just helped save more lives.

We made our way to Paul's
home to meet his mom and sister, who had prepared a Haitian meal for us.
Their home was untouched, but his mother refuses to sleep inside
any longer, so they pitched a tent in their front yard. She
thanked us and was grateful that people like us would be willing to
come there to help. She said, speaking French that we are
all human and we must all care about one another especially in times of
tragedy and for caring about the Haitian people enough to give up our
time and spend it with them.

Winding back down the
mountain on the rubble lined streets, we saw a few bulldozers that were
being operated by people in the community. They worked on a
few homes together to remove a building that hadn't yet fully
collapsed. We stopped on the side of the road, watching
them carrying shovels, cement and trowels, and the small dozers picked
up rocks to dump in the truck. In the 3 days that we
traveled, this was the first time I saw any heavy equipment . However,
the Haitians were helping themselves with no one from other countries
visible.

Left with two duffle bags of
supplies Paul took us to visit a doctor, who was a friend of his
family, Dr. Margarette Blaise Jean, who is a pediatrician at
Unitemedicale De Lilavois, on the outskirts of Port au Prince. As
we drove up to her clinic, we saw a small tent city outside the
property. Dr. Margarette told us, in perfect English, how
much she and her husband, Philippe, appreciated people coming to her
country to help in whatever way we could. We took our
supplies out and she wept with joy saying that she would be able to
bring them to the tent city next to her. She had been
caring for them, especially the women and children. The
peroxide bottles, and bacitracin ointment were needed, but the feminine
hygiene pads made her night since the women were always searching for
them.

The Border
Patrol

On our way back, once again
it was dark and we were 2 hours late. The border had
closed and this would be our third night of trying to get the gates open
for us. Paul rushed us to the Haiti side of the border,
but they wouldn't let us pass through this time. They said
they had "orders" not to let anyone cross over to the DR side. We
knew why. Paul told them what we had been helping in
Haiti, and the guards again asked for our identification. I
gave them my husband's NYPD Lieutenant identification
card, and immediately they let us through!

We got to the DR gate and on
the opposite side was our friend Jonathan who the night before had the
face masks. He said the "commander" had kept the key that
night, and the gate couldn't be opened. Again, we knew
why. Then a guard said in Spanish "if we could fit through
the hole in the fence, we could come in." I looked down
to see a 2 ft. opening which my daughter could fit through, but I
doubted I could.

It was the only way in that
night, unless I wanted to sleep amongst the trucks and people trying to
get across, so we laid down on the ground and shimmied our
way in, laughing hysterically. We laughed so hard I
couldn't move and was wedged between the poles. The
Haitians, laughing as well, started to push me through. I
made it, to the sound of applause, laughter and congratulations in 3
different languages!

A Week Was Worth It

Heading back
to our base at the Good Samaritan Hospital in Jimani, we realized we had
made new friends, and had brought whatever help we could to people in
dire need of more.

Tyler and another friend
remain at the Orphanage Notre-Dame of Perpetual Souls. Our
mission now is to rebuild it through donations, help and hopefully more
people who want to spend time doing the most important work that's
possible.

For videos and pictures
please check my blog at https://elaine.worldcantwait.net