tent cities

Countless people have lost their homes, but as everyone says- Haitians are resilient. They are strong. They are excellent at "degaje" (to make do with what you have). The days immediately following the quake, people were just closing off parts of the road so they could sleep there, in the middle of the street. They gathered together in parks and open fields. They gathered in front yards and driveways. And then the make-shift tents starting popping up. Like when you are a kid and build a fort in your living room-- sheets, blankets and tarps starting making homes for these people. After a while, organizations started handing out tents. You would see 10 matching tents with a logo all in the same field. When we drive by a park or big field, we often call these areas "tent cities" now. It's really hard to describe what I feel when I see these. I feel pain- knowing all of these people have lost their homes. They've lost everything. I feel respect- seeing the Haitians moving on, make life out of what they have. I feel pride- seeing the Haitian people pull together. I don't care what you've seen on the news, there is a small small percentage of people fighting and looting, and huge percent of sharing and working together. They come together and form their new "homes", their new neighborhoods, their new life. And while it won't be this way forever, it's not really temporary either. Thousands of people have lost their homes. And by "lost", I mean, there is nothing left of it. It's a pile of rubble. It's going to be a long time before homes can start to be rebuilt. These tents, whether "real" tents or blankets and sheets strung up, are home to many people. This is now their life.

Sunday, I met up with one of my friends, Francois, in Petionville. We ate lunch at Epidor and he told me that one of Three Angels nannies, Lourdes Mulla, was now living nearby. So we decided to stop by for a visit. This was the first time I actually walked through one of the tent cities. I was once again amazed at the strength of the Haitian people. Their ability to carry on. They have lost everything. Their life has completely changed. And yet, take what they have and they continue on. We found Lourdes Mulla's tent and called for her. Some people living next to her told us she wasn't there. We walked across the street to ask some other people if they had seen her.

There, we saw her little boy, Louvens (sp?) sitting on a blanket with some other children (louvens is in the blue striped shirt). Francois asked him where his mother was, he said he didn't know. We were able to call Lourdes Mulla and get through to her- she said she was gone for the day. She sounded happy to know that I had come to visit her. I told her I would come back another day. Not that Lourdes Mulla has ever had much- it broke my heart to see where she was now living. In a tent. Surrounded by other people living in tents. And yet, this is "normal" life for thousands of people now. But rarely do you see them wallowing in sadness and complaining of their misfortune. They smile. They sing praises. They do the best

that they can, making a new life in their tent cities.