And into the future...

On the shelf above the computer where I sit, is a piece of paper. On the paper is a simple drawing in pen, with some green colouring down one side which remains unfinished. No doubt the artist at this point was distracted by one of his friends who was sharing a joke, or breaking into a rap session, or the keenly  awaited lunch. It's not very remarkable in many ways and it certainly won't be winning any awards, but it does actually signify something very special. In the middle of the picture, written in English are the words "I love you" and I know for a fact that the writer meant very much to express his gratitude not just to me, but to those of you who have made it possible for him to have some sort of hope for his future.


This is one of the children that we have been supporting since the earthquake last year and his story is one of pain and difficulty. It is also one of great courage and perseverance in the face of tragedy and an inspiration for anyone of us who has struggled with life to keeping reaching forward. Last year this boy, who I am going to call Yeonel to protect him,  lost his mother in the earthquake. She was badly injured and taken away to a hospital in the countryside where she remained until her death a few weeks later. Yeonel and his brother never saw her again and as his father had left them many, many years ago, they were now fending for themselves. I have been to Yeonel's house..."house" is a grand term for what is a simple box about one metre square, with some corrugated iron on top that cannot fend off the rain when it arrives. His brother lives in a similar place next door, but he is not often around. The area is dirty and dangerous, with open sewers and rubbish piled high. gangs operate here and drugs are the currency of many. It is not the place for a 14 year old boy to be living alone. Yeonel is scared of going back there at night, in case he gets beaten up by a gang, but every day he returns to the clinic and takes on his breakfast duty in a determined and caring manner.


During the time we spent with Yeonel, we discovered that he has a beautiful character; quietly responsible, kind and thoughtful. At the orphanages, he would be the one coming to help distribute the clothes and make sure the children got their cards. He would always have a smile and a friendly bonjour for us. But inside Yeonel is living with the pain of losing his mum and the trauma of seeing the place he knows and loves ripped apart. When we asked him about the city he told us that it's as if he's in a dream- "I can't believe what I see with my own eyes". He said " Haiti I know is no more".


Yeonel likes school and maths is his favourite subject. He has a dream that he will become an engineer and wants to be able to help rebuild his city. It is through Bright Tomorrows that he has the possibility of fulfilling that dream and he is very thankful.

I have no doubt in my mind that what we are doing in Port Au Prince is worth it a thousand times over. Not just because of Yeonel, but also because of the other children I have met and who have made me feel extremely humble for their exuberant way of tackling what life is throwing at them and their desire to turn that to good. When I compare that with our mission statement - real and lasting change for children, I think we are getting there.


I know that I am going to treasure that piece of paper for a long, long time....


What Next?


In addition to the ongoing support for Yeonel, the boys, Georgie and the 17 children at the orphanage, we plan to return to build new rooms and a bathroom to make much improved accommodation and sanitary conditions for the children at Bonoparte's orphanage. This is going to be another exciting adventure and step of faith as we need to find £7,000 for the project. 


If you would like to join with us in making a difference in Haiti, by sponsoring one of the children you have read about or in any other way, we would love to hear from you!
x

sarah@brighttomorrows.org.uk

Final Day

Before we knew it our final full day in Haiti was upon us. It seemed impossible that it had come around so fast, yet we had packed so much into our few days. How could it be that in such a short time we could feel as if our lives were inextricably linked to those here? What we had seen and experienced would somehow now be a part of us forever and in some way we would not be the same people who had left England with nervous anticipation the week before. For sure we had shared many adventures and there had been highlights, such as the wedding- which stood out as a sign of new beginnings, but there was an awful lot to process and still so many unanswered questions... We were becoming physically and emotionally exhausted and our wobbly moments were increasing day by day, but we couldn't fall apart in front of the children and our determination to come away with some clear objectives for Bright Tomorrows kept us going. 


We were going to our last orphanage today which was on the outskirts of the city. This afforded us the opportunity to see some more areas that had earthquake damage and also some more of the tent cities. One of the boys we have been supporting had been moved out to a new area by the government, but as we drew closer we could see that this was not a great site for the twenty or so thousand people living there. The land looked dry and parched and there was no shade whatsoever. Apparently water is brought out to those who live here, but they have to find their own food and the nearest school is a long way off. This was not somewhere that I would like my boys to live and I thought of Paul who had been moved here.

It was midday by the time we arrived at the orphanage. We were hungry, needed the toilet and our spirits were already a little low. We weren't really prepared for our encounter here and the very poor conditions that we were to be met with. It's location was rather pretty; much more rural than some of the city orphanages, with banana trees all around. But the buildings and living accommodation were by no means adequate for the 45 children who lived here. We walked around in a state of disbelief and despair as we tried to take it in. 12 children lived in a bedroom that was no bigger than 2.5 metres square. A double mattress propped up on orange boxes took up most of the room and a couple who looked after the children slept in here. The children slept on the bare floor around the sides of the bed. 

We carried on with the tour. The kitchen, we discovered was a metal pot on some stones outside and the "bathroom", just a concrete square covered with a sheet of corrugated iron. We were told that this one was full, so we couldn't have used it even if we'd wanted to, but there was no sign of another toilet anywhere. What did the children do? I can only imagine that they went out by the banana trees, but we didn't like to ask.

Flor and I had fallen silent by this point. What was there to say? How could this possibly be right? This was not to cast judgement on those running the orphanage; they were doing their best in very, very hard circumstances. In fact, they were wisely schooling children from the locality who could afford to pay fees so that they could pay a teacher and thus educate the children who lived there. But there was clearly no additional support at all here and it showed badly. 

We managed to pull ourselves together enough to spend some lovely time with the children, whose faces lit up when they received the cards from children at home. Then we climbed back into the car with our heads spinning with yet more unanswered questions.

Surely there was a way that Bright Tomorrows could get involved here? 

A wedding, chickenpox and a rap session!

Life in and around the clinic was certainly not dull. At around 6 every morning things would get under way and by seven there was a hive of activity around the tent, with the boys making their appearance, school children  turning up for Scholar's breakfast and the police guys arriving for work. Every day was different too, especially Sunday as this was the day that, to our surprise, we were privileged enough to share in a wedding. And share in it we certainly did. We were quickly learning that in Haiti there is no place for spectators!

The wedding was to take place in a rather old and dusty tent in the police car park. The groom, John, who is Haitian works with the boys and was going to marry his beautiful local bride. As budget and resources were at an absolute minimum it was necessary to adopt a creative approach to laying on a wedding. So, in our newly assumed role of wedding planners an impromptu trip to Port Au Prince's biggest supermarket was hastily arranged. As items are hard to source, they are extremely expensive; well beyond the budget of the majority of local people. But we were adamant that the bride should have flowers of some sort. We decided on a rather unconventional blue hydrangea stem at $10 and left the shop with the flowers and the best we could do for decorations. The primary school teacher in me was going into overdrive at this point, imagining how 5 paper bags were going to transform the tent into a sublime and romantic setting! The end result was not quite of this magnitude, but it didn't look too bad, all things considered. We had also managed to get hold of some blue material that we used as drapes and two tablecloths gave a lift to the overall state of affairs and set off the wedding cake. The cake itself had its own tale to tell, which I won't go into here. But in the end it looked lovely and the bride and groom were absolutely delighted by the whole event.

The boys wore their best clothes and were fantastically behaved during the proceedings. They put out the chairs and sat patiently through a fairly lengthy service and then joined in the meal afterwards. Dudley had the weighty responsibility of being both the ring bearer and the babysitter, but he did it brilliantly and looked dashing in his borrowed suit. The more time we spent with the boys the more we observed how well they got along and also how they looked after one another. Given the hardships that they have experienced, they obviously have learned to draw on each other for support and it was moving to see this in action. In addition, when we asked the boys who their best friends were, they all without exception named each other.

Unfortunately Charlie was not feeling so good and he was led out with a fever. He was clearly suffering, so doctor Abner took a look at him. Chickenpox was the verdict! So it was to be bed rest for Charlie for a few days and regular doses of soothing chamomile for the spots as they developed. It was dreadful to see him looking so poorly, but he bravely managed to join in a group photo of the boys holding their "flash flash" torches that we had given them and even flashed us a special smile.

There were times during the day, when the boys were not at school, doing homework or jobs and it was these times when we were really able to catch a glimpse of them behaving as boys. I was missing my 14 and 17 year olds and all the stuff that goes with that so I loved to watch them joking around, a little rough and tumble and on the odd occasion a burst of rapping. I was secretly hoping to see a full blown rap session in action, but so far I had not been lucky. However, after several days of asking "Chantez pour moi?" I was rewarded, as they suddenly jumped into action. Goji led the way and the performance was complete with hand movements, cool looks and lyrics that were delivered with gusto. It was pure class.

It was made all the more special by the fact that we had spent the afternoon walking around some of the city to visit some of the boys' homes. Many of them live in the tent cities and these are dangerous and overcrowded places as we were to see first hand. It had been an emotional time as we discovered just how severe some of the conditions were and also how much some of the boys were hurting from last year's events. Goji was not keen for us to visit his house, which he now shares with his grandma, but at our request he took us to meet her anyway. She is a very diminutive lady in her 80's who has tried her best to care for Goji this past year. She told us that Goji had been due to go back to his mother when the earthquake struck, but instead he had chosen to go to grandma's for the night. When he returned home in the morning, his house was demolished with his mother dead inside. As grandma explained the story, Goji could not stand to be reminded of that terrible day and he ran off into the street. John later told us that Goji was once one of the most outgoing boys, but in recent months he has become more insular and withdrawn as the reality of what had occurred has been sinking in. He is not going to be seeing his mum again and yet every day he has to walk past the place where their house once stood.

On the way back I thanked Goji for taking us to meet his Grandma. "Next time you come I am going to have a better house." was his reply.

A lesson at the orphanage

After what seemed like an eternity we finally arrived at our first orphanage and were greeted by three beautiful girls shouting "Bonjour" and smiling broadly as we got out the car. We hauled the suitcases and bags of supplies that we had brought from the boot and went to meet with the owner and other staff. The sun was hot by this point and we were already feeling its effects after just a few minutes without shade.

We took a tour around and were impressed to see that some building work had been carried out by a team who had visited a few months ago. Then, as we talked further, the impact of the earthquake became more apparent, not just on a physical level, but on a psychological one. The owner started to open up about how he had struggled over the past year and had almost had a breakdown as he tried to come to terms with it all. He described some of the sights he had seen in the days and weeks after the quake and how he had been forced to drag bodies and pile them in the road. Although at first he had managed to keep going, what he had seen kept returning and he had no way of processing it properly. As we listened, we were filled with admiration for him, but also an acute awareness that his story must be one of many hundreds and thousands. The enormity of what had happened and how deeply its wounds must have scarred began to hit home and our thoughts then turned to the children and the realisation that they too must be so internally traumatised.

In the past year the city has been in turmoil and emergency aid and relief work the focus. A cholera outbreak, a flood and hurricane have only hampered progress and in such times, basic needs only can be met- water, food and hopefully sanitation. Dealing with post traumatic stress has not been on the agenda, but as we were to see many times over during the course of our trip, it is very much needed.

Time came to meet some of the children and to hand out some of the items we had brought with us. Girls from St. Mary's school in Shaftesbury had beautifully prepared packs of toiletries and we wanted to give each child a pack of their own. A simple task, you might think, but we were in for a lesson in how the simple can become really complicated - or better known as" how to make a mountain out of a molehill"! Many of our packs were put together with girls in mind and older girls at that, so some of the items might not be quite so well suited to the needs of the boys who were there (to put it delicately) Our first problem then, was to decide if we should just give to the girls and return with something for the boys on another occasion or try to find something for everyone. Would it be fair though if the boys weren't to receive anything after we had called them over? At this point everyone seemed to have an opinion on the matter; all of which were different. After alot of to-ing and fro-ing it was deemed to be more fair to give out something to every child now, but that led to the next problem of how to divide up what we had! Suffice it to say, there were several more opinions on this matter and more to-ing and fro-ing and lots of passing around of bags. The sun was now burning down and we were feeling hungry and faint. How could this be so hard?! It was another twenty minutes until a consensus had been reached.

Pleased that we had arrived at a solution we all dived on the bags, emptying the contents with gusto as the children looked on in a rather bemused manner. The whole thing must have looked quite comical as shampoos, hair bobbles, soaps and sanitary towels were being thrown all over the place! Finally we had it sorted and managed to ensure that each child was matched with a pile of goodies. We were exhausted...

The day taught us a great about the situation in Haiti. About the heat and how it gradually sapped your energy and ability to think coherently. About the horror suffered by so many in January last year and its continuing affects. As ridiculous as it might seem, we also learned how a seemingly simple task could become so difficult in these circumstances. Our lesson with the toiletries seemed like a microscopic picture of what was happening in Port Au Prince now. A decision that might benefit one, could also disadvantage another. An opinion offered by one could be countered by another equally valid one. And another and another...And all this resulting in chaos and indecision.

Out and About

We rose early, partly due to the activities of night time friends but also because of time difference and a need to freshen up as best we could. As we were situated in the special police (CIMO) car park, we had the luxury of being able to use their facilities, which included a flushing toilet and a shower. Fresh was certainly the operative word as I stood under the cold water to wash my hair, but it was a most welcome moment and we could face the day clean and bright like the morning sun that was rising over Port Au Prince. When we returned to the tent, children from the surrounding tent cities were already lining up for "scholar's breakfast". This consists of breakfast bar or porridge and a drink; essential for allowing children chance to stave off hunger and concentrate at school. One by one they signed their names in the book as some of our boys stood by on duty to serve them.

Today we were off to visit orphanages, the purpose being threefold; to take some of the supplies that we had brought with us, to spend time with the children and ascertain their longer term needs and for doctor Abner to check them over and prescribe any medication where necessary. It was the most glorious day, with bright sunshine by this time and for the first time, the extent of the earthquake damage was fully visible as the car valiantly traversed the city.

It is hard to fully describe the state of the roads and buildings and also extremely difficult to process what you see unfold before your eyes as you take it all in. It seemed surreal on many levels. The mounds of rubble appear to have barely moved since the disaster struck a year ago and yet around them life carries on..Life in all its fullness too, with street sellers exhibiting their wares, groups of children in uniforms off to school, vehicles coming from every direction and people, people, people...all bravely trying to go about their daily life. And all this is played out against a backdrop which, to all the world seems like a Universal Studios set for the latest disaster movie. As far as I could make out, each and every road in the city has been affected. One house down here, another two doors down...then a shop, which has lost its ground floor and the remaining two floors perched almost happily on top, as if somebody might just step outside and walk off down the street at any moment. Then; more rubble, more damage, more disarray.




As I surveyed it all through the car window, my feelings oscillated wildly. On one level there was a sense of disbelief, then horror, then a matter of fact assessment of the damage, and finally a sense of real awe. What incredible resilience and strength displayed by the Haitian people that they can carry on in such conditions. My mind swiftly returned to home - how would we cope in this situation? Given our response to an unexpected winter snowstorm in the UK which all but closes the country down, I think we would have to dig very deeply indeed...

Fact:

According to the UN Development Programme (UNDP), almost 200,000 buildings collapsed in Port-au-Prince and surrounding areas, creating an estimated 10 million cubic metres of debris. This is enough rubble to fill London's Wembley Stadium two-and-a-half times over. To date about 2 million cubic metres ( one fifth) has been cleared. Jessica Faieta, the United Nations Development Programme's (UNDP) senior country director in Haiti acknowledges  that there was a certain amount of "paralysis" regarding rubble removal during the first half of 2010. Haiti's political instability before and after the country's elections in November contributed to that paralysis, she says, and it took time to choose which neighbourhoods should be cleared first - a decision that has now been made. The political instability has also been exacerbated by the fact that 17% of the country’s civil servants were killed in the earthquake and that the national records office was destroyed.