Tonight in a Tarp Camp

Tomas muscles towards Haiti tonight, and is expected to hit land tomorrow.  It's hard to get my head around what this will mean for the 1.5 million people across the earthquake zone who still live in displacement camps.  My brain just isn't wired to comprehend those kinds of numbers.

I often think it's easier to stand in the shoes of one person, at one moment in time.

And so tonight, my mind is with one child who lives in a tarp camp and who's been clinging to her mother since this morning.  That's when I hear it started to rain.  They're huddled together under a torn bed sheet, or maybe it's a scrap of plastic, and by now the mud is more than knee deep.  The rain and the mud are nothing new, and they're used to sleeping up-right.  But tonight there'll be no sleeping. 

The rain will get stronger, and the wind will get louder, and their tarp within hours will blow away.  And what will they do then . . . cling to a lamp post or duck into the crevice of a collapsed building?  Both the UN and the government of Haiti announced a plan to evacuate the camps, advising people to "seek alternative shelter," or make their way to the home of family or friends.  Seriously?  The child with her Mom in the camp . . . they don't have anyone to take them in.  That's why the live in a tarp camp. 

And where exactly are those shelters?  No-one knows for sure, because word of the official evacuation "plan" hasn't gotten to all of the camps.  (It's strange to live in a foreign country and know more about the supposed evacuation than people who need to be evacuated).  Rumors are circulating that some of the schools are open, but if that's true they're already full.  And even if they're not, those buildings aren't reinforced.  What's the likelihood a school already bruised by the earthquake will survive a tropical storm or the mudslide it sets off?

Besides, we're talking about people who actually know what it's like to be trapped under a fallen building - people who've lost a limb there or watched a loved one die there.  There's a Mom and a child in a camp right now who've had that very experience.  And it's simply impossible for them to be anywhere and trust that the walls won't collapse around them. 

Just checked the weather channel and Tomas is still on course.  And I'm still struggling to connect with the thought of a million and a half earthquake survivors riding out a tropical storm in a tarp camp.   I still don't get those numbers.  So tonight I'll just pray for that one child and her Mom.  A million and a half times. 

-Kathleen A. Bergin

 

Comments

[Patrick S. O'Donnell]

And let us DO something concrete, like donate to one of several organizations on the ground committed to the immediate relief of suffering, like Direct Relief International (and of course to any organization that is involved in more long term, structural, developmental aid): http://www.directrelief.org/

[Kathy]

Yes, donations are good.

Having seen how donations are used, experience tells me that smaller orgs are sometimes better than larger, depending on what you're going for. They're in camps delivering direct aid, and as Patrick says, working for long term structural and development progress.

Shameless plug here for You.Me.We. More on what we're doing at ymwglobal.org and Facebook.

[christian louboutin shoes]

*Beautiful brush, and to share with everyone!