Arriving in Haiti

17 February 2010: The bus ride over to Haiti from the Dominican Republic turned out to be a long, yet fascinating 8-hour drive. The air-conditioned bus with one toilet in the back was mostly packed with Haitians travelling home to see family they hadn’t been able to visit since the earthquake.
 
I felt a mixture of fear and excitement for all of the unknowns I was about to experience in Haiti on behalf of Plan's global communications team. I passed the time by chatting to a Haitian-American family from Brooklyn, New York, who told me about the sister who was on top of her roof with her child when the earthquake hit, and how they both rode down with the 3-storey building and walked away without a scratch.

Winter wonderland

The lush green and valley landscapes of the Dominican Republic changed dramatically once we crossed into Haiti. Just after the border, limestone from the nearby mines, kicked up by all the passing vehicles, had powdered the trees beside the road pure white, so it looked like a winter wonderland. There was a large lake to our right that sparkled in the afternoon sun.

Soon the roadsides became more crowded: throngs of people, small goods for sale, kids loitering on motorbikes and giant bags of rice sold from the back of trucks. But then there was that knowing serene smile I exchanged with a woman who had stopped to watch us pass. And the baby goat following its mother. And the yellow butterfly flitting past. Signs of life's continuity and constant renewal.  

Tent city visit

Today, on my first full day in Haiti, I went with a Plan child protection specialist to a tent city in Croix-des-Bouquets where Plan is building another child-friendly centre with the help and partnership of the community members that live there.

At the entrance to the camp, I was greeted warmly. We spoke in French and some Creole that I am figuring out as I go. I asked if they would be willing to show me around, and they were happy to show me everything. The tents had been placed close together, but there was a wide main road and meandering side streets. Not a city or a camp really. More like a town.

Protective homes

A boy shows off his kite made from sticks and string

Before I took any photos, I asked for permission. Many said no. But soon I couldn’t keep up with the special requests from those who did want their photo taken - especially from the women. Many wanted me to take their photo right in front of their own unique tent. Some tents had little flourishes, like a small section of a sheet that said ‘Happy Holidays’. A woman can make a home anywhere, I thought. And yet every woman deserves a home that protects her and her family from harm. This is Haiti's great need.
 
Just before it was time for me to go, a little boy passed me. In his hand was a well-made geometric kite that he'd made from some sticks and string. In a sprawling tent community that from a distance looks like a heap of rubbish he had made something beautiful that could fly.
 
Support the Haiti earthquake appeal