In the immediate aftermath of Haiti’s 2010 earthquake, I set out on a new (and completely unexpected) journey with only a moral compass and three words (Dignity, Hope and Opportunity) to guide my course. In hindsight, a map of some sort would have been helpful and comforting, but I guess some journeys must be
…Close your eyes and listen carefully… Can you hear that sound? It’s the sound of hundreds (if not thousands!) of Haitians in the resettlement camps screaming with excitement as they watch the World Cup on big screen TV’s delivered by HR&DC’s in-country director, Reginald Auguste. These TV’s (and their corresponding generators) were graciously
In a few minutes, I will force my battered body from the bed that now cradles me and begin another day. (A day that begins in Haiti and ends with me back in the States.). Before I do so, here are a few thoughts and/or observations from my trip. Over the last 7 days,
Earlier this morning, I conducted a clandestine meeting regarding the transition of Haiti’s largest resettlement camp(s) into a legally recognized city. While extreme confidentiality is a must at this juncture, I (and those on attendance) believe strongly that history will one day view this meeting as a fulcrum moment in stabilization of the Haiti.
It’s approximately 9:30pm and I’ve just finished eating dinner. While today was filled with numerous important conversations, the main thrust of my activities fell into these four categories: The transition of the largest resettlement camp(s) into a legally recognized city, The implementation of a mentoring program for senior officials within the Haitian government, In-depth
It’s early Thursday morning and I am awaiting my flight from Tampa to Miami en-route to Haiti. Since I will be on the go from the moment I deplane in Port au Prince, I thought it wise to check-in before fully engaging in the tasks that await me. Over the course of the next
After 6 grueling days in Haiti, my flight from Port au Prince back to the States was delayed by 3 hours. As a result, even though I ran (!) through the airport and breezed through immigration, I missed my connection flight by 20 minutes. At that point, I stood in an empty corridor and
‘For the fallen there is only silence. It is we who make the noise.’ These words came to me in 2010 when I first knelt amongst the visible bones and human carnage in Titanyen. They struck me like a hammer to an anvil and they still resonate within my soul each and everyday. As
4 years ago today close to 300,000 Haitians lost their lives in less time than it will take you to read this post. If being crushed to death wasn’t a cruel enough fate, most of the innocent victims found their way into the back of dump trucks and were unceremoniously deposited into mass burial
For those of you who have been monitoring my activities over the last few days, I apologize that today’s post will be short on details. Unfortunately, the physical and emotional reserves that I built-up in November and December have already been depleted and I am too tired to say more than this: “I am
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