Why do the walls look like they are going to hit my face?

As you might have heard, life here in Haiti has changed drastically over the past few weeks. It has been a while since my last update so let us catch up…

My time in the USA over Christmas was relaxing and rejuvenating, as I was able to eat massive quantities of chocolate, sleep later than 7:00 AM, visit family and friends, and watch a snowstorm bury one of my fund-raising plans. I was able to speak at my former grade school, Immaculate Conception, and they were supportive, offering to organize a book drive for LCS.

My much-anticipated return to Haiti occurred Sunday January 10th. The trip included traveling through a frigid Miami airport, which lacks a heating system to accommodate the abnormal 35-degree weather. Unfortunately, my checked bags did not arrive in Port-au-Prince with me and I spent the rest of Sunday and Monday returning to the airport in attempts to find my bags. Monday was the first day of school and I finally got my bags, signaling a seemingly normal beginning to the rest of the school year.

Tuesday was an excellent day in the classroom. I started a two-week unit on the Civil Rights Movement and race relations in the United States, beginning with speeches by Martin Luther King Jr. (I Have a Dream and I’ve Been to the Mountaintop) and ending with Barack Obama’s speech on race from his presidential campaign. Over Christmas, I had procured audio and text copies of the speeches so that my students not only could read them, but listen to them as well. Tuesday, I gave the historical background of the movement, provided context for MLK’s speech, and even began watching the speech in one of my classes (one section, Rheto A meets 3 times on Tuesday). The students were very responsive and loved hearing MLK’s voice. He is a tremendous speaker, a skill that seems to cross cultural and linguistic barriers. Not one of my students had ever actually heard him speak, something that certainly brightened my day.

Following classes, we had Netwayage (the cleaning of the school and the picking up of trash in the neighborhood and along Route National 3). It was my day off, so I read upstairs in the administration building during this time. Around 4:30, I went downstairs to the kitchen to begin cooking dinner with another one of the volunteers, Corey. Putting a large pot of water to boil on the stove, I began peeling potatoes alongside Corey next to the sink. It was around 4:45.

The first thing I noticed was an astonishingly loud noise. It sounded like a train wreck, a massive truck ramming into a building, or an airplane crashing (I have not actually heard any of these, but I have nothing to compare it with). Building off the sound was the sensation that the wall in front of me appeared to be moving towards my face. Disorienting shaking enveloped me as I dropped the potato peeler and clutched the sink, asking the stupid question, “What is going on?” Corey, who had experienced earthquakes before, knew exactly what it was and yelled “earthquake!” The shaking got progressively stronger and without thinking, we both bolted to the nearby door. Pots, plates, chairs, tables, everything was falling down. Pushing, the door did not budge, and as I turned around, I watched as our massive pot of boiling water (a pot big enough to cook food for 25 people) was thrown to the ground, spilling boiling water in all directions. There was a tiny bit of oil mixed with water (we add oil to the water before we boil it) that fell from the pot, causing a temporary flare up from the burner before it settled back down. After momentary confusion, Corey and I both forced our brains to work and realized that we had to pull the door, not push it. Standing in the now open doorway between the building and outside, we waited for the shaking to stop. I had to constantly brace myself against the wall to prevent myself from falling.

When the shaking finally stopped, we both immediately rushed out to check on the kids. Corey ran to turn off the burner and continued through the building, while I went out the back door. The immediate sounds will always linger in my memory, the terrified screams of the students and our neighbors.

Running towards a group of students, I looked to my left and saw that the front wall of the school had collapsed out into the street. This was the first moment that I realized some of the screaming was not just shock and fear, but actual pain and physical trauma. Ingrained in my memory is the image of Patrick Faustin, our head of maintenance and the Haitian I would most trust in a moment of crisis, sprinting full speed carrying a girl in his arms, covered in blood. I immediately began sprinting towards where they came from, the soccer field/playground. Once on the soccer field, I saw two small students carrying a screaming, apparently injured, student. I rushed over to them, grabbed the student and rushed to the front of the school. Along the way I saw two of my larger male Philo students looking like they wanted to help and I sent them to the playground to look for more injured students.

The response of the staff at LCS was undeniably impressive. Within 10 minutes of the earthquake a truck carrying all the injured students had left for the nearby medical clinic. A section of the wall by the soccer field had fallen, as had one by the playground. Students had apparently been sitting near or against the playground wall when the earthquake occurred, and the wall had fallen on those who had serious injuries. Fortunately, none of the injuries were too severe, nothing close to life threatening...

Most of the students were here on campus that Tuesday; however, one of my Rheto students was at home when the earthquake occurred. His house collapsed due to the force of the quake, with the falling ceiling being stopped by his bed only inches from his head. There was still a tiny path to safety and he followed his cat, crawling towards the light to leave the house. Days later, he came to LCS and told me his story, showing me the injuries on his leg, head, and shoulder…

Returning to Tuesday afternoon – the staff worked quickly to herd all the students to the basketball court and I did a quick search/sprint around campus to make sure that there were no students hiding injured somewhere.

One of the most striking visual images during those frantic moments occurred while running by the drinking water spigot. Located near the cafeteria, there are two gigantic 500-gallon water containers that our electric pump fills with clean drinkable water. However, during the earthquake, the connecting pipes had become detached and water was gushing out, overflowing the basin and creating a growing pool on the ground below. The sound of uncontrollable gushing water was a striking and haunting testimony to the power of the quake. In addition, the basketball hoops (backboards included) on the playground were no longer attached. It appeared as if a giant had plucked each off the hoop's base and gently set it down on the ground, over 10 feet away near the foul line. Unnerving and surreal to say the least.

Returning to the front basketball court, I was greeted by the wails of crying students and the tears of people from the neighborhood rushing into the school.

We at LCS were extremely fortunate in many ways. None of our buildings collapsed (two did receive insignificant structural damage and we will have to rebuild some interior walls as well as the supporting columns of our walking bridge) and none of our students were killed or seriously injured.

During this time of crisis, where did the leadership come from? Our vice-principal, Zamy, stepped up into the void. Addressing the students on the basketball court, Zamy was the rock that attempted to contain an overflowing river.

Meanwhile, I was running in circles, trying to guide the students to the court and doing whatever I could to provide some sense of comfort and stability. As you can imagine, my attempts were not very successful. I tried to enlist the support of some of my Philo students to help calm the younger kids, but almost all the students were too shaken to be of much comfort to others. Their thoughts began to move beyond themselves and their fear grew as worries about their family and friends increased.

On the front basketball court, we had our first of many aftershocks. It was a big one (read, I almost fell over) and any comfort and stability we had attempted to provide was completely obliterated in that moment. Fear took over and it remains one of our biggest adversaries today. Zamy held himself together remarkably well and was able to move the students to the safest place we could think of, the center of the soccer field away from buildings and trees.

On the soccer field, news from the city began trickling in. Parents arrived, checking on their children and bringing news from home. It is not possible to adequately describe the emotions of that evening as darkness fell. Fear, anxiety, helplessness, sadness, anger, frustration, and fatigue all melded amidst the whirlwind of activities.

We did successfully feed the students that night, serving the “la bwi” that the cooks had been making when the quake occurred. In addition, we brought mattresses out to the students so they could sleep on the field, stopped the flow of gushing water, and did our best to provide comfort and support to those who were suffering all around us.

It was a very difficult situation personally because every Haitian there feared for their families and friends while I knew most of my family and friends were safe, in a country far away. We all physically shared the experience of the earthquake, but I simply could not comprehend how they were struggling emotionally and psychologically…

One of our maintenance guys, Benoit, came through that night. He rigged up a series of lights and ran an extension cord from a nearby building so that there was electricity on the field. This was actually one of the most amazing things – the solar power survived the earthquake with little or no damage.

Speaking of solar power, here is a great picture of me cleaning a solar panel in the aftermath of the earthquake: http://cosmiclog.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2010/01/19/2178696.aspx

So, yes, we had electricity that night. Everyone slept on the soccer field, including the volunteers, students, and Haitian staff. We wheeled over the TV (on a cart) from the library and watched movie after movie until morning. Sleep was a rare prize as the aftershocks and tremors continued throughout the night. Feeling multiple earthquakes while lying flat on my back was certainly an “is this really happening” experience. In fact, much of Tuesday brought that question to mind.

Tuesday from 5:00 PM until bedtime on Wednesday was the longest 32 hours of my life. My journey home from Uganda was a close second, but nothing can match this. I hope nothing ever does.

Beginning Tuesday evening, the volunteers and staff went about attempting to secure things that are essential to life at LCS: food, water, diesel, natural gas, and communication with the USA.

To address food, we cooked two meals each day to feed the 316 students, staff, and neighborhood residents. When we took an inventory of our food supplies, we were pleasantly surprised. I did not realize the reason until later, but we had roughly a two-week supply of food for 400 people. Why did we have so much food? Well, it was the second day of school in a month that followed a long break. LCS had used the break to stock up for the coming semester, resulting in ample supplies of rice, beans, spaghetti, and other essentials.

Water was a larger issue because the pump was initially not working (the piping was damaged by the quake). By the end of Tuesday, we ran out of water in the large 500-gallon blue containers that store drinkable water. However, through the help of James, Samuel, Corey, and me, we reconnected pipes and were able to get the water system working again by late Wednesday morning. Important to the functionality of our pump is electric power and the solar panels performed marvelously in this respect. I have always been very thankful for their existence, but this disaster made them absolutely essential to the existence of the school.

Tuesday night we moved barrels of diesel from the front of the school (next to the broken wall) to the Moynihan house across the street. In addition, we determined that a gas line in the school kitchen had broken and we took the full gas containers to the staff and Moynihan kitchens in order to prepare meals.

Communication with the USA came Wednesday evening, when our rear neighbors – behind the walls by the soccer field/playground – offered to let us use their internet. They are a religious NGO that runs a nearby orphanage and actually had a high school mission group visiting when the earthquake occurred. The kids were stuck in the country for nearly a week before they were able to make it home.

In addition to logistics, we also cooked food for the entire community. Inexperienced at cooking massive quantities on small stoves, it took us four hours (9-1) to cook spaghetti for the 316 students and 20 staff members. In addition, it took us nearly as long to cook a delicious dinner of rice and beans. Industrial quantity cooking in small pots is no joke...

Some stark memories of Wednesday remain. The refugee camp look and feel of the soccer field/playground. The mattresses and sheets set up to form makeshift tents in order to protect students from direct sunlight. The overwhelming stench of urine. Kids were too frightened to enter buildings, even to use the bathroom, so they were just peeing anywhere, hence the smell. Trash was everywhere. It was truly a depressing, overwhelming, incomprehensible sight.

Wednesday night we slept in the Moynihan house for the first time, completely drained and exhausted. A friend of the project from the Haitian business community arrived Tuesday night and his presence had an unbelievably calming effect on the volunteers and staff. He checked in several times again on Wednesday, and he was extremely supportive throughout the crisis.

Thursday was a new day and we began rebuilding. Zamy organized Netwayage and no longer did the soccer field/playground have the look of a dilapidated refugee camp. Trash disappeared and slowly the smell of urine dissipated.

Removing physical and visual reminders of the earthquake became a way to psychologically cope with the situation. Whether it was cleaning up a broken flower pot, putting my room back together, or removing rubble, these were incredibly uplifting experiences.

In addition, on Thursday many of the Haitian staff were able to physically begin moving beyond their personal suffering and started providing support for operating the school. In particular, Bellegarde and Stecy were saviors as they helped with the cooking of “Haitian” food. We had already made spaghetti as well as beans and rice, but our meals were noticeably not “Haitian”. The students and staff were very appreciative of the Haitian staff’s efforts to make real Haitian food.

I could not have lasted too many more Wednesdays but Thursday turned an obtuse, unmanageable, and highly stressful situation into a demanding but ultimately doable problem. There were answers and we finally had the resources to provide them without destroying ourselves physically and mentally.

Routines began to form, although the kids continued to sleep and basically live on the field throughout the following week. Cooking became our life and it was a satisfying life in many ways. Word was that Mr. Moynihan was trying to arrive as soon as possible but there was no confirmation on when he would be able to get into the country. American Airlines had stopped all flights and it was a pretty complex and challenging puzzle to find a way into the country. We joked about Mr. Moynihan swimming to Haiti…

We knew from our phone call with the USA on Tuesday that the earthquake was international news and our parents had been contacted, but we did not know the scope of the event. However, bits and pieces of news did trickle in from the radio and staff members over the next few days.

News that buildings throughout the country had collapsed shocked us. Things like the National Palace, the UN headquarters, the Caribbean Market (the nicest grocery store in the country, we had shopped there several times last semester), several hotels we had visited – all collapsed during the earthquake. The universities that many of our junior staff attend are broken and unusable. The ministry of justice building and the national prison – gone.

It was only when Elissa returned from the neighbors Wednesday afternoon that I realized the scope of the disaster. She saw on the internet that early reports indicated that between 100-200 thousand people died during the earthquake. Shocked, dismayed, and confused, this number vastly exceeded even my worst estimates.

It seems clear today that the earthquake is threatening to break the spirit of the Haitian people. Some of the most intelligent, capable, confident Haitians that I know have returned from the city devastated and in shock. One member of the Haitian staff, who is incredibly intelligent and typically has a very positive attitude, spoke in despair upon returning, remarking: “Haiti is dead.” Attitudes have improved over the last week and life continues, but it certainly has been drastically altered for our entire community. Yet, somehow, hope remains. Despite the severity of the death and destruction, our community, staff, and students are persevering.

Friday, Patrick Moynihan finally returned, having flown to the Dominican Republic, prepared to take a helicopter to Haiti. Instead, he was able to finagle himself into a private jet alongside two journalists (a Swedish television reporter and a German journalist from Der Spiegel.) Patrick brought a comforting presence to the situation and things have continued to stabilize since his arrival. Over the past week, we have been able to secure our food supplies, fix the gas leak in the kitchen, and bring our cooks back. We have also begun structured activities for the students, including half days of “school”. The national government has canceled school for the month, releasing our teachers from their obligation to teach. However, the volunteers and staff have been holding classes, though they are much more informal than before. The number of students on campus has consistently dropped, especially following the return of classes. We were down to 100 on Friday and only around 60 remained this past weekend (23-24). I am hopeful that more will return this afternoon.

Have I mentioned the aftershocks? Yes, these “minor” earthquakes have been happening ever since the initial quake. I have probably felt somewhere between 30-40 of these “fun” jolts of energy. They range from shaking entire buildings to being indistinguishable from the window rattling caused by USA army helicopters and massive transport planes. Regardless, each one reminds us of that catastrophic day. Aftershocks are pretty devastating psychologically for the students and many of the staff, uncontrollably bringing memories of the terror and destruction into the physical reality of the present.

Sunday was a day of rest and we took a day-trip to the mountains south of Port-au-Prince. On the way, we glimpsed some of the devastation in Delmar and Petionville. Crushed buildings, rubble everywhere, makeshift refugee camps in open fields and parks. Certainly not an easy drive.

The reality of the news media in Haiti has been at times both fascinating and frustrating. There seems to be enormous interest in the situation across the world, which can be a good thing as it brings aid and support to people in desperate need. However, there is also the risk that the situation on the ground is not accurately represented and isolated incidents are extrapolated into inaccurate generalized statements. Importantly, news organizations and journalists often look for a particular story that fits into a preconceived box rather than reporting as objectively as they can. I won’t mention any specific organizations, but there have been a number that either I personally witnessed or I learned about through others...

I have only read a few news articles but my Dad continues to send me ones that mention LCS and journalists continue to swarm the country alongside the NGOs and other aid organizations. The Swedish journalist who arrived alongside Patrick later did a story about rebuilding in Haiti. He focused on LCS and our students, videotaping them playing basketball and moving the fallen concrete blocks away from the broken walls.

Moving these blocks was actually one of the most satisfying moments of the entire week. Grabbing some of the Philo students, as well as anyone else who wanted to help, we moved all of the large concrete blocks away from the walls and stacked them in orderly piles alongside one of the walls still standing. Man, those things were heavy. The blocks will eventually be crushed (perhaps reused?) but they needed to be moved. They needed to be moved because the fallen walls were tangible and visible reminders of the earthquake. In my experience, one of the most important steps to recovery is returning the campus and our living situation to as close to normal as we can. Something as simple as cleaning up a flowerpot obliterated by the earthquake has tremendous psychological benefits. It has been my goal to try to eliminate as many earthquake reminders as I can. The added benefit of moving rubble was the involvement of my students. They were ready to work, they desperately needed to work. It was a way for them to begin to move past the trauma of the earthquake, for them to physically begin fixing what was in disorder and to regain control over a seemingly intractable situation.

I continue to be impressed by our students as they have traveled through the city to help in relief efforts. Groups of students have helped in the wound clinic of the Missionaries of Charity, translated for Jamaican doctors at another medical clinic, and cleared out a warehouse that will be used for storing medical supplies. A supporter of the project from the Haitian business community offered the Red Cross/Red Crescent warehouses and buildings to set up their base of operations. Nearby, my students, young men from Santo 5, and myself helped to clear out one of the warehouses so that Catholic Relief Services (CRS) could use it as a supply depot for food and logistics. We finally finished Saturday (23rd), after days of carrying merchandise, removing items from the walls, and moving very heavy furniture. The work was extremely satisfying and it feels invigorating finally to be able to physically contribute to ameliorating the situation. Every little bit helps.

Speaking of journalists, there should be articles in the Wall Street Journal and Der Spiegel on Monday (1/25) about LCS. Patrick has been making contacts like he usually does and he was able to convince journalists from both newspapers that LCS was THE story about rebuilding in Haiti. Clause (I’m actually not sure how to spell his name), the German reporter, was quite impressive. He is one of Der Spiegel's USA correspondents and he is apparently a pretty big deal in Germany. He has written five books (one has been translated to English) and Der Spiegel is one of the best news magazines in Europe (easily the best in Germany). He compared it to Time, Newsweek, and the Economist. Not a bad peer group…

Anyway, they followed Patrick around for much of the week and asked us all questions. I’m not sure if I will make it into the stories, but LCS will certainly feature prominently. Pretty neat really.

One of the interesting things that never really understood before is how a massive influx of foreigners affects a country with a poor infrastructure like Haiti. There are only select roads that are paved and the massive growth of foreigners (NGOs, aid organizations, journalists) by the airport has turned that zone into an almost impassable area. Unfortunately for us, the airport is between LCS and Port-au-Prince. The first few days after aid began arriving, we suffered through god-awful traffic. A 20-minute drive became 2 or 3 hours. Recently, to avoid the brunt of the traffic we have been taking back roads down to the river, driving across it with our Land Cruiser. Fortunately, it’s the dry season and the river actually looks like a medium sized stream. My heart always races each time we cross it, but we have made six successful crossings thus far!

Life in general, is good. Things are certainly different and there is a host of new challenges, but moving forward to meet these challenges is the purpose of LCS. I want to thank everyone for their support; it has certainly been helpful in these trying times.

Over Christmas, I had these grand ideas of bringing large quantities of new and better books to improve the LCS curriculum. Well, the earthquake has completely transformed the reality on the ground and honestly, money for food, for building repairs, for wall construction, for rebuilding the neighborhood surrounding the school – all of these are much more important than books. Please support our school as we move forward and rebuild Haiti. Donations can be made through our website: www.haitianproject.org/donations/htm

Thank you for everything and please feel free to send me an email if you have any questions or concerns: butler1986@gmail.com

Peace