Friday, September 24, 2010
Haiti storm
We had a huge storm here this afternoon. We drove to Double Harvest Hospital this morning to pick up some post-op patients. On the drive back I noted the bright blue, nearly cloudless sky. We unloaded the patients and got them settled. I worked on making charts for the 7 new patients we'd received. A couple hours passed. Then Chris came in and said, "Hey, it's going to rain hard." I looked at the sky and it was dark. Then the wind started blowing. There were only a few raindrops at first. But I (we) could tell right away this was going to be bad. We ran around quickly and closed all the windows and doors in the tents that are housing our patients. Within seconds the sky opened up and sheets of rain began pouring down.Then the wind really picked up. We have about 12 people, mostly former patients who are currently living at the hospital, whose beds are under a large concrete overhang outside. When the wind started the people whose beds were closest to the edge of the overhang were quickly drenched. With the other patients (mostly) protected by the huge, sturdy tents we're borrowing from MERLIN, we focused our attention on protecting our other patients from the storm. This was quite a task. Someone ran in back and grabbed a few extra tarps. We already had some tarps set up, but the one hanging over us filled with a huge amount of water more quickly than I could have ever imagined. With 100s of pounds of water hanging precariously over our heads (and being held up by who knows what---the tarps were "secured" by something on the roof sitting on them--I'm still not sure what), some started to push at it with crutches (this is how we roll here when it rains...degage). They weren't able to generate enough force with the crutches to force the water out. With the huge bowl of water growing and me worrying that we'd all be in trouble soon when the whole tarp system collapsed, we decided to cut a big hole in the bottom. What happened next is the definition of a deluge. But at least we no longer had the 100s of pounds of water hanging over our heads.
Then we focused on holding up one large tarp to shield the patients. This was easier said than done. At the height of the storm, it took about 4 of us holding it and leaning against it with our full weight to keep the rain and wind from coming in. Even then it almost blew us over several times. There were these intermittent, frequent, intense wind gusts that would go on for about 30 seconds at a time. This went on for maybe an hour--I don't really remember. Every minute or so the tarp above us would shift as the rain collected and huge boluses of water would pour through the now severed tarp onto all of us below. At one point fairly early on I realized this was different from other storms. One of our new volunteers was standing next to me, holding a large piece of plywood to block more of the rain. I kept telling her this was an anomaly, and that I'd never seen anything like it here (I was in Haiti for a tropical storm once, and this was far worse. I've never been in a hurricane in Haiti).
As I held up the tarp and threw the full weight of my body against it, I continually thought of those living in the tent cities. I knew there was no way that flimsy tents and tarps could withstand this kind of wind and rain. Pictures taken after the storm have shown this to be true. How unfair, and unjust--as many have said, it's been over 8 months since the earthquake. Hurricane season is not a big mystery--it happens at the same time every year. And while this wasn't a hurricane, it might as well have been (though a hurricane or severe tropical storm would definitely be worse, as it would go on for much longer). There has been time to prepare for something like this. People shouldn't be suffering because of the weather.
As the storm subsided, I stood there freezing cold and soaked. But then I went inside and found a towel and a change of clothes. We helped our patients dry off and provided dry sheets and clothing as needed. Within a few hours things were basically back to normal at the hospital. Tomorrow there will be some more cleaning up to do as several of our smaller tents flooded. But all in all, it wasn't all that difficult for us once the storm was over. But life outside our walls it is a different story. Trees and power lines are down. Streets are flooded. Tent cities are a mess of ripped tarps and collapsed tents. As the rain continues to intermittently sprinkle down tonight, many are again homeless, now without even a piece of plastic to protect them from the elements. I don't have a lot of answers--but what I do know is that this is an injustice that didn't need to happen.
Pa bliye Ayiti~~Don't forget Haiti~~pray/hope/give/remember
**Update: apparently this type of storm is called a "microburst". You can read more about it here. The organization mentioned (JP HRO) is doing amazing work in Haiti. They've helped us out on numerous occasions. The people working there are compassionate and incredibly hard working. Please pray for them as they rebuild, and for all the people they're serving in their camp.
saturday, september 25, 2010
I guess it wasn’t a hurricane but I have never seen anything like it and I have been through at least three hurricanes in the last five years. Wind was whipping everything in every which direction. The roof off of our gazebo is in pieces all over our yard. The bathtub is full of mud from the rain and dirt coming in the window in the bathroom. The upstairs of our guest house flooded and soaked every bed from the water pouring in off of the balcony- 30 feet in the air.
I was in our guest house pricing jewelry when it suddenly started. The tension in the house rose quickly. Moms were working in the house with their children and babies in nearby tents. It was obviously a dangerous situation. While my thoughts and heart quickly turned in the direction of helplessness and anger, the Haitians in my house quickly turned to worship and prayer. Hands in the air, songs broke forth again. “Merci Bondye. Merci Jezi.” How do they do that? Time after time, their hearts fall right in line with everything I would aspire to be but am not. Me. I cried. I cried for the babies and children who were crying and cold and scared. I cried for the fathers who like me were helpless to help their little ones, and I cried for these people who have known nothing but being downtrodden and poor.
It stopped eventually and Adrien and I hopped in my car to assess the damage. Trees were down, almost all the electrical lines were down, tents were down, people were standing around in the cold wind shivering while everything they owned was soaked and muddy. We gathered up a couple of families whose mother works for the apparent project and brought them to the AP house. Chrislene put on a big pot of rice and beans for whoever needed it that night. They obviously wouldn’t be cooking for their families that night. We went back to the house and loaded up some sweaters and sheets for distribution. We maybe helped ten families in that way. It seemed like a drop in the bucket of need.
IT was a warning. I think. It wasn’t a hurricane. It lasted about 30 minutes maybe and it did some serious damage. IT showed me how much more important the need is to get these people out of tents and into houses. As of right now the Apparent Project is working on house # 7 and 8. We have 8 more ready to be built sitting in our driveway and are probably going to be able to put a total of 29 up by November if all the people who have pledged to help follow through. THIS IS GREAT! But it is not enough. Would you be willing to consider building a house for a Haitian as a Christmas gift, a Thanksgiving family offering, a school fundraiser, a church offering? For $1600 you can put up a house and get up to 8 people out of tents. Want to do more? I have my eye on some land for $40,000. For a total of $100,000 we could get thirty homes built for people who don’t own land and assign them the land ownership afterwards. Someone out there has this kind of money and is wanting to help….. Please help.
