The orphanage -- count 59

One of the most emotionally mixed days in Haiti last year was the day we visited the orphanage on La Gonave. We met 59 little ones; the girls sat on one long bench together, while the boys wiggled and squirmed on the other. The girls sat together, gently braiding hair, talking and giggling. The boys shoved each other, pushed each other and called out for more and more pictures to be taken. One little girl stood out from the others --Betsiina. She was to be adopted soon by a Canadian/Haitian couple. The other kids knew it. She was teased and told that her new family would hit her. She didn't want to go.

Many of the children, I'm told, have biological parents who live in the town adjacent from the orphanage. In some cases, the parents just can't provide for the children and so they are sent to the orphanage. In Betsiina's case, she was being sexually abused by her older brother while her mother was out looking for work during the day. And so she was sent to the orphanage where, her mother hoped, she could be better protected. It seemed that many of these children have no supervision during the day, no one to look after them except for older siblings. I kept wondering, does Haiti need orphanages for its children, or just free quality day care?

Earthquakes, Tsunamis, Coconuts

While in Haiti last June, we got a chance to travel to Petit Goave to visit the missionary compound. It’s a green space, over looking the ocean. Sail boats bob up and down, the water is clear and clean. All is calm. Coconut trees provide some shade. As I’m walking, a group of kids join us. One girl has a pretty torn party dress on and she loves to have her picture taken. Some have been swimming in the ocean. They tell me that they like to swim and ask me to join them. I laugh and tell them that I don’t have my swim suit. They ask me if I know how to swim. I laugh and ask them if they know how. They tell me that they know how to swim and that they like to swim.

I ask them what happened when the earth shook. They shook their arms in the air and they told me that it was so strong. I asked if it was really strong. They all shook their heads together and said “Yes, really strong, really strong”. I asked them about the noise? What did it sound like? They said “it was loud, really loud” They said “it was like zzzzzzz.” I said where were you? He pointed next to the house where he was. He said his mother hurt her foot, but that he didn’t get hurt, he is okay. He shows me his arms and his legs. Just then a coconut drops from the tree and slams to the ground from about 30 feet up. I had forgotten about those coconuts.

I asked them “what did you do after the earthquake.” He showed me the ground where he had to sleep. He said he had to sleep outside in the open. It’s too dangerous to sleep under the coconut trees where the coconuts can fall on you. He said the problem was that the sun would boil them in the morning, and it was too hot.

He told me his story several times. I asked the others too about it, trying to get them to talk about that scary time, trying to get them to help me understand. The second boy tells me that they had to run away from the ocean so that it wouldn’t come get them. I realize that he is talking about the Tsunami warning. They had three problems – coconuts, earthquakes and tsunamis.

I take their picture and I show it to them. They laugh. I ask them if they go to school and they tell me yes. They start to tell me what things are in English and then they translate the words into Kreyol for me – they are teaching me. They walk me to the car and I ask them if they are going swimming again. They say they will get fish to eat.
We drive away in our car to head back to Port-au-Prince. I think to myself - I only had to worry about falling coconuts today.

Haitians helping Haiti -- Mangos + Social Programs

Last June, directly after the earthquake in Haiti, I met with Jean Maurice Buteau. Some call him the Mango man. He buys and sells Mangos directly from farmers all throughout the Haitian country side and is one of the largest Haitian exporters. His mango producers are from small orchards, are grown without pesticides and are simply amazing.

But, as much as I love mangos, this is not why I'm writing this blogpost...

We hear much about the good that others in the world are doing for Haiti. We hear about big donor organizations, we hear about non-profits, not-for-profits, aid organizations, governments, celebrities, etc. I have and do applaud this work, but there are more applause to go around.

What I'm most interested in these days is post-disaster reconstruction by those on the ground and those from the ground. In other words, who are the in-country, in-state, in-town heros who can teach us about what works on the ground in a post-disaster situation?

Here's a quick look at what Jean Maurice is doing:
1. Exploring ways to increase crop production and farmer profits in Haiti
2. Supporting a high school in Fond Jean Noel since the mid-1990s, including installing solar panels, computers and internet access. In addition, training programs by a Haitian IT company were provided.
3. Supporting local neighborhood sports teams in order to give kids access to after school activities.

http://www.mango-haiti.com/social.htm

These programs help Jean Maurice's company thrive because he needs to hire skilled workers, he needs to work with farmers who can produce high quality mangos and because we need more Haitian soccer players in the world.