Port au Prince, Haiti Day 3

Today I met with several local NGO's here, who have the responsibility (with little resource) to coordinate the health and mental health responses in Haiti. Without a government, without buildings and infrastructure, with ongoing after shocks and an exodus of Haiti's people, these local programs are heavily burdened and poorly supported. While the response and support of the international community is needed and important, it will not go on long enough. It never does. Each player, each NGO or government or country, chooses their territory and even with the best intentions, the agendas that often direct the work do not reflect the hearts, needs and spirit of the people.

Haiti's future must be directed by the Haitian people. Yes, they will benefit from funds, training, expertise, and the support of the rest of the world, but the restoration of their home has to be their own work.

Each story I listen to carries certain similar themes--the horrible images, smells, sounds they heard for the longest days and nights they have lived. The despair at seeing so many dead children carried out of rubble, or at arriving to collapsed buildings and knowing that the people they are looking for never could have survived. Many people say "we will go crazy if we cannot talk about these things, move on from them, bury our dead, find work and contribute to Haiti's future." And--the images still consist of piles of cement where homes and schools once stood; the wind still carries an occasional scent of death; every park and open space is crammed with makeshift tents and people with nowhere to bath, defecate or rest. Reports of rape in the tent camps, of trafficking children who are now alone. Reminders everywhere. No safety.

As I observe, reflect, listen, I have to ask what the most meaningful way to help is. The immediate response is essential; long term, I am concerned at the volume of help that may eventually flood Haiti and drown out her own voice.

I do not have an answer now; I am sharing what most occupies my mind. I will be updating my website soon and offer more concrete ideas to support the local people. For now I am going to show up, shut up, and listen.

Port au Prince, Haiti Day 2

Today, many many requests came in for "counseling" or "psychological" help. Organizations, individuals, friends of friends, colleagues co-workers. This is not a common request in Haiti--this is a measure of how deep the loss drives into hearts and minds here.

One example--a woman who lost her husband and 2 of 3 children and is self-described as "grieving intensely" and "trying to comprehend"---and is looking for counseling for a young man who was mentored by her husband because he spent 15 hours buried in rubble and "heard the screams and last words of my husband and children."

Comprehend? Its impossible.

I spend each moment riding a wave that alternates its crest at despair and hope. Each drive to and from a place shows me yet more concrete that has suffocated the life out of more people than will ever be known. My gut guess--1/2 million gone. And, we'll never know, nor comprehend.

Each night, singing and chanting. Melodic prayers like comfort blankets in the cool night air.

People who have not given up hope.

Port au Prince, Haiti

After one of the more challenging travel days in my life (a delayed flight and a re-route, a cancelled flight and a re-route that I barely made, an aborted landing to avoid another plane on the runaway, a very late arrival, no bags and no-one to meet me due to all the travel changes) --I'm here. Port au Prince, a city I consider a home-away-from-home, has crumbled in so many places. We were not able to drive through the most devastated areas of the city, because those roads are still blocked--so we were spared some of the shocking horror that the news has shown.

The effect on me to see so many familiar buildings mangled and fallen, and tent cities dotting the way from the UN compound to Petionville, is heavy----a heaviness that fills my heart in a very new and unknown way. As I spend more time here I'm sure I will have more stories to share----for now I am sensing a large hole in a city that despite intense poverty and poor infrastructure has always been filled with vibrant color, movement, sound and life. There are signs of that vibrancy returning now; little Marchan stands selling fruit, toiletries, and even a few clothes. In tent cities children play ball and run and laugh, and people smile. Several people I said hello to this morning said "I am here, Thanks to God" when I asked them how they are.

Haiti has always been a place where the extremes dance side by side and she is even more that place now.

Haiti

Thank you to all of you who are reaching out in support of Haiti. I am in regular communication with my friends and family there, although accurate information is still difficult. Many of you have asked what you can do to help; as soon as I can make a recommendation based on on-the-ground information, I will post it here and on my website. As many of you know, I work with many local humanitarian, human rights, psycho-social, educational and health organizations in Haiti. They will most likely be involved in the immediate disaster relief and crisis responses, and eventually, longer term care, support and rehabilitation.

As soon as I can suggest the best and most direct and efficient organization(s) to send contributions to, I will post it, right here. My 501c3, Trauma Resources International, is also partnered with several organizations there and once we are clear what our response and support will be, I will let you all know.

One thing every single friend and loved one in Port au Prince has asked of me is this: "Haiti needs your prayers. Please send prayers."