Reflections From the Field
NEWSLETTER SPRING 2010
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By Marie Marthe St. Cyr, President, U.S. Board of Directors, Lambi Fund of Haiti
For the last hour, I have heard the hardened sound of the rain against the metal roof of a pool house that has been my home for the last few days.
I traveled to Haiti with a medical team consisting of two doctors, a public health manager and a nurse. We all came to Haiti in the aftermath of the catastrophic earthquake that struck Port-au-Prince and its surrounding communities with a common purpose: to serve those in need.
As the President of the Lambi Fund's Board of Directors, I came to visit and assess the growing needs of our rural partners.
In light of what I witnessed in Port-au-Prince and Leogane, it did not feel appropriate for me to seek the comfort of a hotel. It would have been extremely difficult for me to reconcile the images forever seared in my psyche with the banality of cable television offered to foreign travelers. As I traveled to the North and to the South, I did not want to watch network news reports as I processed the images of Haiti's new realities.
I am grateful to those who welcomed me and offered me a home, a much better one than the flimsy tents erected in makeshift refugee camps.
Our host's five bedroom house was totally damaged and rendered uninhabitable by the earthquake, so they removed doors and mattresses, and placed them by the pool house for night use.
This is where we all laid side by side after each exhausting day, huddled together, horrified by what we had witnessed, but steeled in our resolve to honor the spirit of our people's resiliency.
While I was grateful to be so well received, I could not stop thinking about the people I had met.
What are those women of the tents doing right now in the middle of the night while the rain progresses and their make-shift shelters become waterlogged?
What will happen to the woman with the baby under the coconut hut covered with sheets?
What about this young man who was supposed to be on the flight that was canceled today? Without his legs, who will move him from the tent to a secure place with his meds and a pillow to support the stump?
I found some solace in witnessing what happens when communities organize.
And this woman with both legs burned, will she be high enough from the floor to avoid mud getting between her toes in the tattered sandals she was wearing?
I cannot yet sleep nor can I be grateful for the relief efforts. No, I cannot feel grateful amid the pain. I am wondering if this man in Mon Laza did the right thing. Having lost seven members of his immediate family he poisoned himself to join them, so he said. Who gave him hope at any point of his journey?
As I visited rural campsites on behalf of the Lambi Fund of Haiti, I found some solace in witnessing what happens when communities organize. We attended a meeting in Kan Peren, where I heard the voices of Haitian men and women, peasants and farmers who had become overnight the care givers of thousands of stranded friends and relatives.
They met first to share with us the overcrowded conditions under which they were now living and discussed their grave concerns over their lack of resources needed to secure a bountiful harvest. Most concerning was the fact that many young refugees had no access to the institutions of higher learning they had been attending in Port-au-Prince.
In addition to explaining the depth of their problems, our peasant partners also offered viable solutions, proffering emergency relief strategies to lay the foundation for more sustainable communities.
In the midst of my despair, I was so inspired by our partners' clear articulation of their needs and the formulation of their strategies for relief and recovery.
It became clear to me that the reconstruction of our beloved Haiti must include the voice of all its people.
I was moved that in spite of this cataclysmic occurrence Haitians will continue to demand their right to education, health care, and a government that represents them and their needs…needs that they define every day in their own words.
