I’m at a restaurant somehow still running, owned by a friend of Steve’s– having the best soup I’ve ever had, and cherry juice. The day was a complete mix of horror, hymns to quiet courage, and the absurd.
Dead bodies are on the sidewalks and there are SOS signs everywhere – with NO visible relief effort in 90% of the city’s ruins. I spent the day driving around to random places to help people with survivable injuries. There will be another unnecessary mass death within five days due to untreated infections.
I do not understand why all of the foreign relief agencies behave as though there is no local capacity or ability among these beautiful, resilient people. The Haitians have offered to find me trucks, arrange labor, and “coordinate” supplies. If the truck pans out, we have located emergency food, water, and antibiotics – and we’re off to Leogane, the still neglected epicenter. If we can’t get the truck, a local police officer and his wife will help me set up a local tent clinic and I will treat the children with what I have and what I can scrounge.
If a nuclear war could have survivors, they would be Haitian. Say prayers for them.
After my prayers I had to listen to someone killing a dog, not too far away, and not very quickly. Nothing could drown it out, and nothing will take it away. None of this will go away. Ever.
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