Avenue Jean-Jacques Dessalines

To use a Salt Lake City comparison, Avenue Jean-Jacques Dessalines is the State Street of Port-au-Prince. It is the main drag if you will. While on my mission, you didn't go to P-au-P without going down this Avenue. It considered part of the National Highway.

We had an opportunity to travel down Avenue Jean-Jacques Dessalines and the destruction was almost beyond comprehension. You saw it but couldn't quite wrap your head around it. It reminded you of the destruction in old black and white film clips of post-war Europe.

It was dusty and relatively uncrowded for a typical Port-au-Prince street. Many of the buildings still standing were unsafe because of damage. The street was dirty partly because no one was occupying the buildings, afraid that an aftershock would cause the remaining standing buildings to fall and crush them; just as others already had to their family and friends.

Fear of being in or next to buildings and walls that could fall was pervasive. Several times I was warned by a Haitian not to stand or walk next ones that were damaged. Many still slept outside, afraid to sleep in their homes.

The video only gives you a sense of the additional destruction in the middle of blocks and on cross streets.

The Girls in "The Forest"

One thing I had always regretted when I finished my mission in Haiti was the fact that I hadn't learned any of the children's songs. I became friends with several people in "The Forest" at HUEH (State University Hospital). This included the girls Whitline (pronounced wheat-leen) and Lamartina. I got them to sing three children's songs for me as shown on this video.

The first song tells you when and how to wash your hands. The second is a song of hope called "Woule woch la" or "Roll the rock" about trusting in God when times are tough because he doesn't start anything without finishing it. The third is song called "Ti Zwazo" about a little bird and is often sung by mothers to their children.

The Children

I think one of the best things about Haiti are the children. They are so quick to smile, love and trust you. They aren't used to seeing caucasians and the curious children will stoke the skin and hair on your arm and run their fingers through your hair. I miss it already. The boys look proud and the girls look beautiful with their hair all done up, often with barrettes. Their smiles are unforgettable. Here are a few of my favorite pictures of the children.

The National Palace

The devastation the earthquake had caused really hit home when I saw a picture of the National Palace on the news. I think it was the most beautiful building in Port-au-Prince; two stories, a bright white, manicured grounds with palm trees.
The National Palace had been in my area of responsibility as a missionary for four months. I walked by it nearly every day. I was in the area in February, 1986 when the revolution ousted the dictator "Baby Doc" Jean-Claude Duvalier.

The palace now lay in ruins. The second floor completely crushed along with much of the first floor. To see it was an emotional blow. As Haitians say "Dlo tap koule nan je'm" or "water was leaking from my eyes".

Another example of Haitian Generosity

While visiting a group of people living about 50 kilometers northwest of Port-au-Prince, I received another reminder of the kindness and generosity of the Haitian people.

Our group had set up a clinic to give medical assistance to a group of about 250 people displaced when their homes were destroyed in the Lower Delmas neighborhood of Port-au-Prince.

I noticed two lines of at least 50 people each had formed on the north side of a building so I asked a few of them what they were standing in line for. They said they were waiting for prepared food to be brought out of the building. I then started talking about how wonderful Haitian food is. I love the rice and beans, fried plantains and fritters, chicken, pork and vegetables in sauce, and the fruit.

They insisted that I stay and eat. I said I didn't want to eat until everyone there had eaten first. They said there would be plenty for everyone. I said I really wanted everyone there to get what the needed first. I even pointed out how fat I was. I got a good laugh out of this but further insistence that I stay and eat. They then decided "So you want to eat WITH us". A few minutes later, large laundry type tubs of rice, bean sauce and vegetables with pork in a sauce were brought out. I ended up with one of the first plates and a chair. They loved the fact that I liked their food.


A few of the doctors and nurses couldn't believe I would take a chance on eating the local food. I couldn't have turned them down without offending them. Because I had had no trouble with Haitian food I had eaten earlier in our trip, I one in our group compliment me by saying I had "lestomak cabrit" or "the stomach of a goat". I think its one of the best compliments I've ever received.

Deforestation

It is estimated that 98% of Haiti has been deforested. Almost everyone uses charcoal to cook their food. I'm not talking about Kingsford Barbecue briquettes. Haitians burn trees and bushes to create burnt pieces of wood used as charcoal. A satellite picture of the Haitian/Dominican Republic border shows the desertification of the Haitian side.
I couldn't believe how much worse the problem had become in 23 years. The beautiful green mountains had become mostly brown. Haiti, or Ayiti in Creole (pronounced aye-ee-tee) is a Taino (native) word meaning "land of high places". In a land of mountains, the deforestation is particularly devastating. The rain has washed away much of the top soil, making the ground poor for farming and adding to the food shortages. It is over simplifying the problem to say that they just plant trees and shrubs to replace the ones burnt down. Once again, most are poor and fighting to survive day to day. The 1% richest people in Haiti control almost half of the wealth and they're not interested in planting trees. The government is so inefficient, it makes only token efforts to work on the problem.

Population Density and Kindness in Haiti

I've never been to New York but imagine it might be similar in one respect. In Haiti, there are people everywhere. Imagine fitting at least 9 million people in a place the size of the State of Maryland. Now fit 2 or 3 million of them in an area the size of the Salt Lake Valley and you have Port-au-Prince.

This, combined with houses packed in small areas, often on the sides of mountains, built as cheaply as possible because of low income and lack of building codes, facilitated the massive devastation caused by the earthquake.

It is hard for some to get used to, walking down a Port-au-Prince and having people all around you.
Then stop to talk and a crowd of very social and curious people will gather. Those who know Haiti see a crowd. Those who don't, see a mob. Start talking, especially in Creole and soon you will feel like you are surrounded by the friendliest and kindest people in the world.
My friend Rick and I stopped and asked for help taking a tap tap (a form of private transportation running routes). It had been a long time for us and we were unsure of the routes and the prices. A woman also waiting for a tap tap said she was going in the same direction we were and offered to guide us on our way. She also told us the prices. While riding along she asked us what we were doing in Haiti and we described our mission to provided medical and construction help. At the end of our ride, we got out to pay the driver and learned that woman had paid for us. We turned and told her she didn't need to do that. She said she wanted to because we had come to her country to help and she wanted to thank us. We thanked her and walked away having been reminded of the kindness and generosity of the Haitian people.

I think many Americans see Haitians and expect them to be just like African-Americans. Culturally they are very different. I'm not suggesting this is good or bad but different. Haiti is the second oldest free country in the Americas, behind the United States, after a slave revolt in 1804. 95% of the population is African. The had no need for a Civil War or a Civil Rights movement. There wasn't the need for Rosa Parks and desegregation. This point was driven home to me when I had been home from Haiti about five years and I was talking to a woman I had baptized, Marie Jeanne. She was living in a really rough neighborhood in East Orange, New Jersey. She said "I'm afraid of the American Blacks. When my friend and I walk down the street, we don't talk to each other because we don't want them to know we aren't American".

Edgar and Ti Gwav

One place I was hoping to go, if it would be helpful, was to the south and west of Port-au-Prince. My second and sixth area was Petit-Goave (Ti Gwav in Creole) 40 miles west south west of P-au-P and just north of the largest earthquake aftershock. My fourth area, Leogane, is halfway between P-au-P and Ti Gwav.

Our group wanted to check on the LDS Chapels in Leogane and Ti Gwav and I quickly volunteered to go as a translator. It took a good hour and a half to go the 20 miles west and reach the Leogane Chapel. Members and non-members alike had set up tents and tarps on church grounds because their homes had been destroyed and the walled in church area was a place of refuge. A 1 1/2 year old girl with a head wound was there. She wasn't discovered under the rubble of her home for three days and it was believed she was dead. It wasn't until she was uncovered and started crying that anyone realized she was alive.

I asked about a few of the members I remember at the time and up came walking Edgar with his usual smile. I hadn't seen him for almost 24 years but he hadn't changed much. Placed perfectly and sadly between the two largest tremblors, about 70 percent of the homes in town had been destroyed.

One of our group asked him how he could smile and he said "What else can you do? It doesn't do any good to be sad." It was a poignant reminder that Haitians would deal with the devastation and suffering as well as anyone. They are used to the day-to-day struggle to put food on the table, to survive. It was great to see him.

A flat tire and an 1 1/2 later, we arrived in Ti Gwav. The view of Ti Gwav bay from the mountains to the east was as beautiful as ever.

The LDS Chapel in Ti Gwav was built just behind the missionary house where I lived for a total of 6 months. It was the best house in the mission, right on the ocean. In the evening, a cool ocean breeze would blow and I'd sit on the porch and watch the periodic thunderstorms over La Gonave, an island about 10 miles out in the Caribbean.

I remember so many things that happened there, including the tarantula that crawled on me in my sleep and the rat that found its way into our room at night. I remembered driving back there to call President King after I accidentally struck a pedestrian with our car. I also remember the baptisms that we performed in the ocean there.

We drove to the west of town and came across a tent city and stopped to see if there were any wounded there. Once again the mothers lined up with their babies until we explained our doctors and nurses were only prepared to handle wounds. They brought a three year old girl with a deep head wound. A doctor and nurse worked to remove the infection and gangrene that had set in but as we were leaving, indicated they didn't think she would live.

While she was being worked on, I talked some of the people in the crude tents fashioned with tarps and sheets, including a mother of 2 boys and 2 girls, who offered one of her children to me to take to America. I said I couldn't do that because they needed their mother. She said "But I don't have a home for them to live in". I then said again "But you're their mother". And she replied "But I can't provide for them." I then thought of the words from a Haitian song that says "Moso maman se pi gwo kado, depi nan vant l'ap soufri pou mwen. Pa gin moun ki kap remplase'l, amou maman, pa gin parey". A bit of Mom is the biggest present, since in the womb she's suffering for you. There isn't anyone that can replace her, the love of a mother, there's nothing like it". By the time I reached the second verse, I had 15 people singing along with me and saw a smile on the mother's face.

It demonstrates that sacrifice that a mother will make to give her child a better life.

The Nursing School at HUEH

One of the most difficult tragedies I observed up close and personal was when I walked daily by the Nursing School at the State of Haiti University Hospital. I believe the school was three stories high. It was left a pile a rubble after the quake.

I heard various totals indicating the between 80 and 100 students and their instructors died there.

You could see reminders of the life that was once there in the rubble.

Men and one backhoe were being used to move debris and uncover more of the students remains. The head of the nursing school sat across the street at a desk, watching the process. The odor from the decomposing bodies was very strong. Most Haitians passing by would cover their noses with a handkerchief or their shirt.

As we passed a dump truck in which remains had been placed, we too had to deal with the smell and the sad reminder of the devastating lives and education that had been lost there.

Lessons in Cleanliness

When you arrive in Port-au-Prince, one of the first things you will notice is the smell of burning garbage. Unless there is a good ocean breeze, there is often a smoky haze over the city. This, combined with the abject poverty, tend to be focal points of first time visitors to Haiti.

Upon closer inspection, you'll see signs of most Haitian's desire for cleanliness. It is important to remember that Haiti's government rarely serves the best interests of the people. Only one ruler since 1804 has given up power at the end of a presidential term. All of their other leaders have been overthrown, died or both. One result of this is the lack of a government garbage pick up.

Imagine your neighborhood in America without the city garbage pick up. Other than in perhaps the very poorest areas, Haitians sweep up garbage. You will see them sweeping the curbs and even the dirt and creating piles of garbage. The problem is there is no where for the garbage to go so they burn it. They literally don't have a choice. The government doesn't do it for them.

Notice below how the curb has been swept, even in one of the poorest areas.

The other place you see the importance of cleanliness to Haitians is in their personal lives. Rarely will you see a Haitian wearing dirty clothes. Again, only in the poorest areas and sometimes with children at play you might see dirty clothes, no different than America. You will see laundry being washed and hung everywhere. Much of a Haitian's day is spent getting water from clean water sources such as a water truck and using it to wash clothes and themselves.

They are so concerned about it that twice I was reminded of it directly. My white Utah Hospital Task Force hat had become quite dirty. Miglaine Verin was so concerned about it that she insisted on washing it for me. Miglaine is the same gal that I wrote about in an earlier post who miscarried her baby and got a broken leg during the earthquake.

Another lesson was learned when I offered to carry some things to the hospital gate for a patient being discharged. Haitians will often carry things in anything that can act like a bag, including pillow cases. As I was carrying a young gal's pillow case loaded with personal belongings, I stopped out side of her tent and set her pillow case down on the swept sidewalk. She asked me to pick it up so that it wouldn't get dirty.

Their clothes may not match, but they will be clean.

Clinics and Mothers

I went to Haiti with a group called the Utah Hospital Task Force. We were organized by a man named Steve Studdart who had worked at the White House and had connections with the United Nations and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID). With support from them, the LDS Church and many private donations, 125 of us, doctors, nurses, EMTs, construction experts and translators flew down on a chartered 737.

One of our tasks was to respond to requests from tent cities for medical care. We would go to a tent city and set up a medical clinic for a day. Every time, mothers would line up with their babies and ask to have them checked out. The men made sure the women and babies had the first places in line. It just proves that mothers are the same every where. They love their children and want the best for them.

Naika

Another "refugee" in "The Forest" at HUEH was a 6 year old girl named Naika (Nah-EE-kuh). At the time of the earthquake, she was in front of a house that crumbled, causing cinder blocks to fall on her. She had deep wounds on both legs, her chest, and back.

When Chris and Shellie started to change her bandages, Naika insisted on removing them herself. The bandages were sticking to her wounds. She tried hard to be brave but started crying. Hoping to distract her, I gave her a Hotwheel car given to me by the Isom boys in Tooele to give to children in Haiti.

A couple of times as she was crying, she turned to her mom, smiled and said "Gade, m' gen yon ti machin!" (Look I have a little car!). Haitian children are so thankful for everything they have. She's holding it in the picture.

Her mother was so grateful that she made sure to thank Chris and Shellie, who don't speak Creole, by saying "Thank you" in English.

Miglaine Verin

I first met Miglaine (mee-GLEN) while walking through an area of the Hopital Universite d'Etat d'Haiti (State of Haiti University Hospital) we called "The Forest"because it is a tree-covered courtyard in the middle of the hospital compound. Somehow about 15 beds had been placed here and tarps put under the tree branches and over the beds to protect recovering Haitians from the rain. These people had been discharged from the hospital, but still needed medical care and rarely had homes to return to.

When the earthquake hit, a wall fell on Miglaine, breaking her right leg, and causing her to falldirectly on to her stomach, causing an immediate miscarriage of her baby at six months along.

She first told me that "Pye'm ap manje'm" (My leg is eating (hurting) me). She was glassy-eyed and lethargic, so upset about losing her baby. One nurse told me she had mental problems.

Two nurses, Shellie and Chris, said she must get up and moving. She didn't know how to use her crutches, so I promised her that if she tried, I wouldn't let her fall. She agreed to try. While Chris showed her how to use the crutches and I stayed right behind her.

She went about 50 feet before she got tired and had to sit down. She sat on a short wall and looked up at me and said "You're sweating". I couldn't believe that SHE was worried about ME! Her concern for me was so evident that Shellie, who doesn't speak Creole, understood. Her concern for me when SHE was the one going through extreme trials is something I'll never forget.

We made a point of stopping by "The Forest" over the next several days. I helped Miglaine practice walking. The picture of her smiling the day before we left is a miracle to me.