Saturday, January 23, 2010

A Water Truck Day...

When we went to Enel's refugee camp last night to drop off patients that had been treated and released, we were brought from tent to tent and shown babies that were running high fevers. The paramedics from New York said the children were dehydrated and needed water badly. We had brought some water with us for the team and gave it to Enel to give to the parents... we knew this would not be enough but it was all we could do. The paramedics from NY knew I had a water truck and asked me if I could get our water truck there first thing in the morning.

This morning, bright and early, we showed up at the camp. It is incomprehensible, how many people are living in makeshift tents and how they can live there. The camps are everywhere. They have absolutely no services... no water, no food, no sanitary... nothing The conditions are horrible. The tents are hot, dust everywhere, flies everywhere. I saw a plate of garbage put out in the isle between tents... it was meant to attract the flies so they did not land on the people as they slept.

I was only able to get a few photos because I was needed to deliver water.

Later in the day, we made an emergency water run deep into the capital. There is a small clinic a few blocks from the Palace that Kevin had promised water. The drive downtown was overwhelming. The damage was everywhere... there's so much of it. I think I'm becoming numb... there's just too much.

Buildings precariously close to tipping over...
Vintage 100 year old buildings made from brick and wood... completely destroyed.
The Haitian Justice Ministry...
Cars and trucks were crushed and quickly scavenged for parts...
The National Palace where President Preval worked...
There are many people with simple tools like sludge hammers and hack saws trying to cut their way through layers of rubble to find those who were killed... family, friends and coworkers. They have no skill, they put themselves in danger... but if they don't do it, who will?

And when they find their loved one, they wrap them up and put them on the sidewalk for some stranger to bury.
Dear Father, hear the cries from Haiti, send your angles of mercy to give them comfort. Move your armies of believers to be your hands and feet and fight for the poor, the injured, the dying and the dead. Let it be us that gives them dignity, a dignity that they have never known. Let this weigh heavily on our hearts, that it may be etch in our minds, that we are the miracle that Haiti is seeking and miracles only happen if we are obedient to your call. The Lord asks, "Whom shall I send, who will go for me?"... let it be us that say, "Here I am... send me!".

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