May/ 3/10Haiti Trip/Stray Dog Worker's Relief Fund
Allen and I arrived Wednesday afternoon and took a ride up the from the airport and saw only periperal damage. Some of the larger buildings along the way were collapsed, but most everything street side looked fine. An occassional house or storefront here or there were demolished. Because this was Allen's first trip to the island, I tried to see what he was seeing. To him, it looked chaotic. He thought it was a result from the quake, but I assured him it was like the prequake Port Au Prince. When we arrived in Petionville, everything looked as it always does. Our normal hotel looked like one wall had fallen in the garden, but the area looked the same, the hotel looked the same, the staff looked the same. The only thing different was that the park across the street from the Kinam Hotel was packed with tents and people. They look like tent villages, but they are in fact small slums. Petionville was spared alot of the damage that was inflicted on the rest of the city. We had a friend staying at the Kinam Hotel during the earthquake and after the quake he saw nothing wrong and that thought that all was well...little did he know until a few hours later what had happened all around him.
On Thursday morning we went to the bank to change the donated money into Haitian dollars. Allen counted 4 different semi-automatic weapons and one shot gun being toted by the guards in the small bank. Withdrawing the money from our bank account in the States took three minutes the day before we left for Haiti--in Port Au Prince, the transaction took 1 hour and five minutes to get changed into Haitian goudes. Life is simply at a different pace , and even slower now. The electricity in the bank went off twice during that time. Can you imagine rebooting your computer two times an hour. From there we went to Joel and Magalie's house, the owners of the Craftshop, and stuffed envelopes for all the workers. Just writing out there names was a treat...they all have lovely names. But most things sound pleasant in French.
We toured Magalie and Joel's yard, which is their present craftshop until they can build a warehouse. Warehouses are hard to come by in Port Au Prince at the moment , as you can imagine. They have downsized from 30,000 sf, to just their backyard and 10,000 sf more in a building by the airport which they are slowing building on to. Their yard has three large tents and several large shade trees where everybody works. There were lots of birds, bull heads and artichokes being made and drying in the sun. Our crabs are drying on their children's trampoline. I really do not know what these folks will do once the rains start -- that was my fear everywhere we went. As I toured, everyone looked up and said " bonjour. " They have always been a nice lot and they seemed very pleased to be employed.
Magalie had everyone gathered on a porch. There were 67 people in the first location (her backyard). I gave my little speech...that the day after earthquake, our clients called us and asked us what THEY could do for them. Our clients had a direct relationship to them through ART...through their art. I told them we decided to create the Worker's Relief Fund where all proceeds would go directly to them, the workers. I also told them they should be thankful to Joel and Magalie for opening their shop again...that they did not have to...they could have easily have kept their doors closed. I said the money is their money, but to use it wisely...to pay a loan, to fix something that needs fixing, or for medicine. Use the money wisely in a way that will help you. As I read the name of each worker, they quietly would say Present in French, then walk up like school children and shake my hand. They were truly moved by the gesture... Afterwards, several folks gave speeches, thanking Stray Dog Designs and our clients for giving them work and their wonderful gesture of help. It was truly moving. Inside of their envelopes, which they did not open while I was there, was the equivalent of one months salary. For those workers who work most closley with Stray Dog Designs ...those who are the heart and soul of our production, the equivalent of 3 months salary.
Afterwards, Allen and I went up to the parents of Joel's house to see a tent city erected on their tennis court. On that little piece of land lived a total of 270 people, down from 700 the week following the earthquake. The Dresse's had opened up their house for the children that lived in the tent city and their kitchen had a big t.v. set up with kid videos and toy dontations. Just think of having your home opened up to that many people living next door. You can imagine their exasperation , their strain on your systems, but they were pressing on. In their backyard was a tent, where Nixon, one of their key employees lived. It looked like a beautiful place to pitch a tent...but usually when you pitch a tent it is there only for a day or two.
We drove back down toward the airport to the 10,000 sf warehouse where the factory is now located. Next to the warehouse was another tent city that the State had taken over where probably 5-10,000 people were living. Here we gave out another 86 envelopes. After the presentation, one lady stood up and almost cried. She said her she would use her money to buy blood pressure medicine for her husband...they had been unable to purchase it since the earthquake. Another lovely lady showed me her eyeglasses...they were duct taped together...like two pieces of glass wapped in tape and she said the first thing she would do is get glasses.
After all the envelopes were delivered, we drove through downtown Port Au Prince. Whereever there was open land--park, soccer field, rubble--there were tents...mostly printed with US AID on the sides. We went to see the National Palace. It was not unlike seeing the White House caved in upon itself and across the street in a once beautiful park was a tent city. I would imagine 20-30,000 people lived there. The national cathedral looked like something out of Dresden. What was standing were the old French Creole houses as they were mainly made out of wood.
We then drove to Leogane, a city/suburb about 10 miles from Port Au Prince that was close to the epicenter. The drive of 10 miles took about an hour. In the middle of the road, where there was once a median, were now tents. Think of living in the middle of a freeway. It was a lunar landscape as the higway was buckled and bowed, houses and stores were pancaked everywhere. This is the main problem. Most of the houses are made of concrete and the block..the block is used for the walls and are so poorly made (no portland) that one can almost grind in your hand. Ontop of the house, if one had the money, was a concrete roof. When that earthquake shook for 28 seconds, the slab of concrete roofs simply fell and crushed everything beneath them. In Leogane, most of those roofs were down.
At what point do you stop noticing the total destruction around you? At what point does it become the new norm? At what point do blue and gray tent cities stop jumping out at you...how long until they become part of the normal landscape...part of the accepted? At what point do you just resign yourself to idea that your house won't fall it, that your walls are strong enough to sustain an aftershock...that you can go inside and, hopefully, sleep? How, when you've lost everything and there are few to no prospects of jobs, can you even hope to rebuild? What will Haiti's new normal be?
My friend Allen Clark who was travelling with me was going under his hat as a structural engineer. He was requested to inspect some buildings that various aid groups had put up in the mountains over the years...a school, a medical center, a dining hall, a church. We had one stop just outside of Lagone to visit...a family who would not move back into their house because of fear it would cave in. Allen inspected the beautifully built concrete house and gave it the thumbs up. Another neighbor came by and asked if his could be inspected too. Our stop lasted about an hour and a half and a whole neighborhood was relieved.
But no one is actually too relieved right now...everyone is working knowing full well the rains are about to come....with the rains will come disease, heartache, shaken and shorn walls will collapse, new tent foundations will be tested, water will get into cracked spaces and open up more problems. The new norm will be tested.
There is more to this trip...the stay at Lagone's St. Croix Hospital-- the rebuilding there...the trip into the mountains to the small village of Petite Harpon and more...but what concerns you, our friends who helped with this fund and those who sent their wishes...is that the money was delivered and you made a true difference in a lot of people's lives.
And also, what concerns you and me and everyone is that in the midst of all this, is that the people of Haiti...the human condition...have picked up with their lives and have trudged onward, a lot of them into the unknown, but most into the simplified version of the unknown: the day to day. There was commerce on the streets, there was laughter, there were haircuts on the porches, there were flowers, there were crops to tend, goats to watch, bananas to fry, gas to fetch, walls to tear down and rubble to move. There was an acknowledgement to move forward and hope that moving forward was worth it. You can feel a lot of pity in Haiti, but you also can feel a lot of hope.
We thank you, they thank you.
General News
By Stray Dog 4:28 PM
Very moving Billy; It's heartwarming to read about your mission. I shutter to think about the inactivity in Haiti.
Posted by: Vincent Tom at May 18, 2011 4:24 PM