Haiti: first impressions

There were very few Europeans on the flight to Haiti. It appeared to be either Haitians travelling home, or mission groups going to volunteer. We didn’t fit into either category. Port Au Prince was a sprawling city, encased by hills and sea. Flying in, it was grey looking, dusty and dry, but no initial evidence of the earthquake. As we taxied into the airport, the buildings themselves looked run down and a bit dire. Inside the terminal building we were enveloped into a steamy hotbed of African Haitians looking for bags and people. Eventually we gave up on our bag search, leaving our details with the American Airlines help desk, and went and met our driver.

On the way home we drove almost solely on jolty unpaved streets, through the city, past tent camps where people were trying to keep cool, and towards Jacqui’s house. We were a little surprised not to see much rubble about, but we did learn later from Jacqui that the area we drove through was not so badly hit by the quake. It was almost more devastating to realise that this is what Haiti looked like before the quake. We suddenly felt like our trip had taken a dramatic turn – we were completely off the tourist trail and were somewhere seriously intrepid. 

The other thing that stuck out from our ride home was the large number of NGO cars we saw – UN, Red Cross, UNICEF amongst others. There is a very strong NGO presence here, not always with good outcomes, and it was very interesting to be amongst it. 

We arrived at Jacqui’s house to a warm and enthusiastic greeting! Jacqui Labrom is from England but has been living on her own in Haiti for about 15 years. She runs a tourism business here, Voyages Lumiere, and is a friend of Emily Sanson-Rejouis from the Kenbe LaFoundation. Emily organised for us to stay with her, knowing we’d be safe and well looked after. Jacqui was so interesting, and despite battling tiredness, we listened to her stories and information with interest. She told us about her experience of the quake, about losing friends, about the NGOs working here.

We visited the COHP school the following day, our place of work for the next month. We arrived as the young children were eating lunch and the older ones were just arriving. Dominique, the school principal, immediately knew who we were and dropped everything to show us around then sit and chat to us. She is a remarkable woman, dedicated beyond anything we’d ever seen to the Children of Haiti Project. The children were absolutely beautiful – all African Haitian, and many with very very sad stories. One, Mackenley, had lost both parents in the earthquake, and 15  days later been hit by a car. He was injured so badly that his brain was exposed through the smashed skull. He now has learning difficulties, and is living temporarily with a carer. Another girl had been sexually abused by multiple carers. We were told about orphanages who sell children for work in the provinces, even family members who do the same. We sat with the children while they practiced their songs and dances for their upcoming concert. While we were sitting with them, some over them sidled over to us and sat next to us, holding our arms or hands, starting to trust us.

When we got home from COHP, we changed quickly and accompanied Jacqui to a function at the Petionville Club, a beautiful club for foreigners and wealthy Haitians. Every second week, people come to change books at the little library there and have a wine and nibbles. It was a lovely chance to meet some more people, mostly foreigners working for NGOs, some for a few years, and some who had made Haiti home. The people were lovely but it was a completely different side of Haiti, with large expensive Colonial buildings and European food and wine. We met people working for NGOs we’d never heard of, people working for UNICEF, the UN and other organisations. It is a little  hard to stomach so many NGOs here, all providing their staff with big houses, large four wheel drive vehicles with drivers, and often “staff” at their house. 

It is a very interesting experience to be living in an expat community for a month but to be working at a grassroots project where families still live in the tent camps. There are already many emotions associated with our time here and we have only just begun.