There are many romantics working in the field. There is the community organizer working to inspire voluntarism amongst the youth, the medic healing the sick and infirm, the human right activist standing toe to toe against corruption and injustice. There is one task, however, that has become a vital aspect of field work.
To those unburdened by it, logistics is simply a term. Perhaps even it is a catch-all for those aspects of work which do not involve direct contact with the needy and infirm. Yet there is no doubt that once you are forced to engage in tasks as mundane as renting cars, fixing water supplies, fueling generators, agreeing contracts, managing staff you come to appreciate that, what most take for granted, is an arduous responsibility in low income countries.
Taking on logistical responsibilities is a crucial task that affords the field operative a wider horizon on which to focus, to better understand all that is functional and, as what turns out to be the case, all that is not.
Haiti is no different: once the initial shock of the place, the sheer destruction the lack of infrastructure has settled into the background, all that remains is the imperative to find solutions that are often novel and unnecessary in the Wide Eyed Pragmatist’s homeland. Even the most fundamental of tasks can become unmanageable without careful planning; everyday products, widely accessible in high income countries, just do not exist; professionally trained staff are difficult to come by. Moreover, serviceable road networks, functioning internet, electricity, clean water and a state infrastructure, certainties I once took for granted, are a chimera in Haiti.
Having taken on this responsibility with my usual aplomb, I look forward to sharing more with you regarding my adventures in banalities as wondrous as buying food, water purification, driving and fixing the generator.
Monday, 22 November 2010
Saturday, 20 November 2010
The flooding
One of our volunteers has developed a close attachment to one of our neighbours. She is a young mother with four children who lost a leg during the earthquake. He has organized a prosthetic leg for her which will be fitted imminently. It is hoped that this will improve somehow her situation. Immediately following the hurricane, one of our number visited her home, a small corrugated iron dwelling of about six foot by six with a table in the centre. With her four children she was lying on the table for protection from the waters that had penetrated into her home.
Her immediate response was to ask for food as she was starving. This is not an uncommon response to the sight of a ‘blanc’ but, following a flood on the scale that hit Leogane, it is hard not to feel that her case merited special attention. As I have argued in previous posts, the philosophy of the organization is one designed against created dependency. Does this case, however, even for us deserve a different response.
There are three issues here: security, compassion, dependency. On the one hand, our security in the community is threatened if we do act and, on the other, if we do not act. If we agree to give food to one amongst many then we risk having to face the demand from the entire area for food if word gets out. If we do not act, there is the risk that the community will turn against us if it is felt that blame can be laid at our door for all of Haiti’s troubles.
Second, in an act of human compassion, a feeling individual’s response to the disaster is to do all that is necessary to provide food and shelter. However, the case of the young mother is certainly not the only one in need of aid, nor should our personal attachment to her afford her special attention.
Third, if the organization has been constructed to breed self-sufficiency, and we are untrained in how to coordinate emergency and disaster response, it may be foolish to begin training in the midst of this event.
My friend decided that in the face of her suffering, he was unable to turn away. For two days he brought rice and beans for her and her young family. The third day, he sourced cans of meat, enough to feed her and her family for three days, and brought that to her too. He visited a fourth time to see how she was. Her response when questioned about how she was, “the meat was great but could I have more rice to go with it.”
Her immediate response was to ask for food as she was starving. This is not an uncommon response to the sight of a ‘blanc’ but, following a flood on the scale that hit Leogane, it is hard not to feel that her case merited special attention. As I have argued in previous posts, the philosophy of the organization is one designed against created dependency. Does this case, however, even for us deserve a different response.
There are three issues here: security, compassion, dependency. On the one hand, our security in the community is threatened if we do act and, on the other, if we do not act. If we agree to give food to one amongst many then we risk having to face the demand from the entire area for food if word gets out. If we do not act, there is the risk that the community will turn against us if it is felt that blame can be laid at our door for all of Haiti’s troubles.
Second, in an act of human compassion, a feeling individual’s response to the disaster is to do all that is necessary to provide food and shelter. However, the case of the young mother is certainly not the only one in need of aid, nor should our personal attachment to her afford her special attention.
Third, if the organization has been constructed to breed self-sufficiency, and we are untrained in how to coordinate emergency and disaster response, it may be foolish to begin training in the midst of this event.
My friend decided that in the face of her suffering, he was unable to turn away. For two days he brought rice and beans for her and her young family. The third day, he sourced cans of meat, enough to feed her and her family for three days, and brought that to her too. He visited a fourth time to see how she was. Her response when questioned about how she was, “the meat was great but could I have more rice to go with it.”
Sunday, 14 November 2010
Hopital Saint-Croix
One of Leogane’s largest hospitals succumbed on Friday to the floodwaters. Perhaps, ‘succumb’ is misleading; this would infer that there must have been some semblance of resistance to the river as the banks burst and the onrushing waters devastated all in its wake.
On Saturday morning, I visited the hospital to find an utterly dejected American, who ran the facilities, one doctor and complete desertion. Practically alone, they had battled to save vital medical equipment and prescription medicine the night before whilst putting in place an evacuation of the remaining in-patients to the second floor. The new river tributary took its natural course straight through the hospital wards and reception area.
Wilfully accommodated by the hospital corridors, a cascade of dirty river water greeted us on arrival. The American was there pacing about incandescent with rage at the situation, lost for words, other than to curse the inability of his Haitian colleagues to grasp the seriousness of the situation.
He refused any offer of help, arguing that it was up to those who worked in the hospital to take responsibility for what had happened. Having put in place a prevention plan, one week prior to the hurricane, he told us how no one had turned up to work on Friday, nor had they worked on his plan to put in place sandbags, move vital equipment or take any such preventative measure to sure up the hospital. Only one doctor, out of all the staff arrived to help on Saturday.
C:\Users\Richard\Desktop\Hurricane Tomas\Flooding photos\IMG00157-20101106-1140.jpg
On Saturday morning, I visited the hospital to find an utterly dejected American, who ran the facilities, one doctor and complete desertion. Practically alone, they had battled to save vital medical equipment and prescription medicine the night before whilst putting in place an evacuation of the remaining in-patients to the second floor. The new river tributary took its natural course straight through the hospital wards and reception area.
Wilfully accommodated by the hospital corridors, a cascade of dirty river water greeted us on arrival. The American was there pacing about incandescent with rage at the situation, lost for words, other than to curse the inability of his Haitian colleagues to grasp the seriousness of the situation.
He refused any offer of help, arguing that it was up to those who worked in the hospital to take responsibility for what had happened. Having put in place a prevention plan, one week prior to the hurricane, he told us how no one had turned up to work on Friday, nor had they worked on his plan to put in place sandbags, move vital equipment or take any such preventative measure to sure up the hospital. Only one doctor, out of all the staff arrived to help on Saturday.
C:\Users\Richard\Desktop\Hurricane Tomas\Flooding photos\IMG00157-20101106-1140.jpg
Wednesday, 10 November 2010
The hurricane
Expectant for the approaching weather system, it dawned upon me that our preparations were cold comfort when put into context. We live, fortunately, in a sturdily built home, with ample protection from the onrushing storm. The same cannot be said for the vast majority of the population in Leogane.
When it arrived for twenty-four hours it was no more explosive than a torrential downpour typical of England. However, for the hundreds and thousands living in cramped conditions in poorly constructed corrugated iron housing, let alone the tented IDP camps, it was a crushing blow. Considering all that has befallen Haiti in such a short space of time, this was just one of many disasters that the communities have had to face. Standing out above all else is the stark contrast between our complete safety and the destruction wrought by flash flooding in the communities. As with the earthquake a complete lack of infrastructure and adequate housing has threatened the vast majority. This time, fortunately, it seems that the loss of life may only reach single figures.
To add some colour to the picture of devastation, it is worth understanding a bit about those we are in contact with from the area. Guilou, our house manager, a lady of about forty, spends her days working to support her entire family; herself, four children, two step children, her mother and blind father, her aunt, her partner and her great uncle. This is not unusual in a population where sixty percent are unemployed. She called that morning to ask for our assistance in evacuating her home as it became inundated with floodwaters. Her family were relocated to our ample space and she came to work for us after, in vain, trying to save the contents of her home.
Flooding is nothing new for Haiti, nor to Britain. What is striking, though, in contrast to our experience, is the immanent risk of flash flooding in a country where basic housing is a luxury, where flood defences are non-existent, where riverbanks burst and flow with impunity into the heart of heavily populated areas. If there is one thing that this episode proves, it is that, in order to avoid further damage in future, it would take a Herculean effort to focus attention on improved infrastructure and to deal with, once and for all, the IDP camps in a humane and novel way.
When it arrived for twenty-four hours it was no more explosive than a torrential downpour typical of England. However, for the hundreds and thousands living in cramped conditions in poorly constructed corrugated iron housing, let alone the tented IDP camps, it was a crushing blow. Considering all that has befallen Haiti in such a short space of time, this was just one of many disasters that the communities have had to face. Standing out above all else is the stark contrast between our complete safety and the destruction wrought by flash flooding in the communities. As with the earthquake a complete lack of infrastructure and adequate housing has threatened the vast majority. This time, fortunately, it seems that the loss of life may only reach single figures.
To add some colour to the picture of devastation, it is worth understanding a bit about those we are in contact with from the area. Guilou, our house manager, a lady of about forty, spends her days working to support her entire family; herself, four children, two step children, her mother and blind father, her aunt, her partner and her great uncle. This is not unusual in a population where sixty percent are unemployed. She called that morning to ask for our assistance in evacuating her home as it became inundated with floodwaters. Her family were relocated to our ample space and she came to work for us after, in vain, trying to save the contents of her home.
Flooding is nothing new for Haiti, nor to Britain. What is striking, though, in contrast to our experience, is the immanent risk of flash flooding in a country where basic housing is a luxury, where flood defences are non-existent, where riverbanks burst and flow with impunity into the heart of heavily populated areas. If there is one thing that this episode proves, it is that, in order to avoid further damage in future, it would take a Herculean effort to focus attention on improved infrastructure and to deal with, once and for all, the IDP camps in a humane and novel way.
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