Concern Blogs

One of the first houses completed at Concern site, Tabarre Issa in Haiti. Photo: Ed Kenney, Concern Worldwide

Since I arrived in Haiti three days after the January 12^th earthquake, I have spent nearly four months on the ground there.  Part of my time was spent working in my normal capacity as a Communications Officer, shooting video, writing reports and case studies, and liaising with journalists and photographers.

I also spent two months on the front lines of Concern’s emergency response as part of the distribution team, bringing tents, essential relief supplies and supplementary nutrition rations to communities throughout Port-au-Prince, as well as our rural operation areas, Saut d’Eau and La Gonave.

I recently returned to Haiti for a week to report on the progress of Concern’s work.  It was extremely satisfying to see Concern’s country program shifting much of its energy and resources from the initial emergency response phase to the next crucial stage of Haiti’s recovery – transitional shelter.

It was also humbling to talk to the families who were moving from tents into safe, secure houses.  I could imagine the transformative effect the move would have on peoples’ lives, but I didn’t truly understand until I talked to them.

Ground zero for this transformation is a Concern-managed settlement on the outskirts of Port-au-Prince called Tabarre Issa, now home than 2,500 people displaced by the January 12^th earthquake.

Until recently, the site was defined by its neatly spaced, unbroken rows of white family-size tents, over 500 in all, laid out over a large 30-acre plain of white gravel.  Squinting was the normal reflex for anyone surveying the white-on-white expanse in the blinding midday sun.

But last month, the picture began to change.   Some of the rows started to be punctuated by sturdy wooden houses, popping up one-by-one under the supervision of Concern’s shelter engineering team.

The Pierre family. From left: Mana Bontemps, 24; Marie-Marthe Bontemps, 33; Fred Pierre, 6; Francius Pierre,38; Maco Bontemps, 9, July 2010. Photo: Concern Worldwide

These were the first of Concern’s transitional shelters, built on concrete foundations and made of high-quality timber frames reinforced to withstand hurricane-force winds .  The basic design includes two sleeping areas, a washroom with a latrine, and a small porch with an eco-cooking stove.  Construction of individual shelters began in July, and with the recent arrival of a large shipment of building materials, a massive construction effort is now getting underway.

Just past the community water taps on the north side of Tabarre Issa, you’ll find a tidy house with a fledgling flower garden just off the porch and a white curtain across the front door, billowing in the breeze.  It’s the new home of Francius Pierre, 38, and his family.  Like many of the residents of Tabarre Issa, they are from an area of Port-au-Prince called Valle de Bourdon, where hundreds of houses built all along the sides of a steep ravine virtually disintegrated on January 12th.

A house being constructed at Tabarre Issa, August 2010. Photo: Concern Worldwide

“It was a terrible, terrible day, an unforgettable day,” recounts Marie-Marthe, 33, Francius’ wife. “I was at work, when just before five o’clock the walls started to shake, then the ceiling came down right on top of us.  I was bleeding from my head and my leg, but by the grace of God I was alive.”  In that moment she knew that her younger sister, Mana Bontemps, working as a cook with her in the same affluent home, was buried under a huge mound of rubble, and probably dead.    She also knew that if such a big, well maintained house was destroyed, theirs must be too.

Dazed and bleeding, she was taken by a good Samaritan policeman to seek treatment, but after hours of searching, it was clear that there were no functioning hospitals or clinics.  By the next morning she found her way back to Valle de Bourdon, where she expected to see and hear the worst.  But she found Francius and their sons, Maco, 9, and Fred, 6, there waiting for her.  Their home was leveled, but they too were alive.  It was a miraculous, tearful reunion, tainted by Mana’s absence.  Marie-Marthe knew that if she had any hope of recovering Mana’s body, she would have to get back to their workplace immediately.

Even though she was badly injured, she set out on that sad task, just as thousands of Haitians did in the days after the earthquake.  Two neighbors joined her and they set about clearing chunks of concrete and stone from the pile that had once been a large prosperous home.  After several minutes of digging, Marie-Marthe, remembers, “For the sake of God, we found her…she was alive!  It was a terrible day but in that moment I was so, so happy.”

Today Mana sits next to Mari-Marthe on the porch of their newly built shelter.  They talk in the warm, easy, knowing way that sisters do.  The house has become a hub of activity, both because of the foot traffic back and forth to the nearby taps, but also because Francius has started a small business selling phone credits.

Neatly dressed in a denim mini-skirt and bright green top, Mana looks every bit a normal 24-year old.  Only after a while do you notice the bandage around the base of her left leg – both legs were pinned in the rubble and she lost her left foot.  She smiles easily, but she can still not bring herself to talk about January 12^th, and she is clearly uncomfortable listening to Francius and Marie-Marthe talk about that day to me.  I feel guilty and compelled to cut the conversation short.

A camp committee at Tabarre Issa put the Pierre-Bontemps family at the top of the list of residents to be placed in the new shelters based on Mana’s injury.  The most vulnerable, including those injured in the earthquake, female-headed households, the elderly, and mothers with newborn and infant children, are given priority.  Like hundreds of other Valle de Bourdon families they sent the first two months after the earthquake living in a shelter improvised from salvaged materials and plastic sheeting distributed by aid agencies, in their case on the nearby grounds of the prime minister’s residence.

As Marie-Marthe recalls, “There were so many difficulties there, so many people, and there was a lot of mud when it rained, not to mention mosquitoes and rats…you were just not able to sleep.  It was very bad.”

In April, Concern worked with the United Nations International Office for Migration (IOM) to re-locate 500 families including the Pierres from the at-risk terrain in Valle de Bourdon to the newly secured land at Tabarre Issa.

Says Francius, “Even though some people said bad things about Tabarre Issa, like that it would be easily flooded, we decided to come.  When we got here we saw that it wasn’t true.  We found this to be a good place, a beautiful place and we are at peace here.”

One of the first houses completed at Tabarre Issa. Photo: Concern Worldwide

They spent their first three months in a family-size tent before moving into the new transitional shelter.  It is one of 1,200 shelters that will be built by Concern in the next five months – 500 at Tabarre Issa and 700 in the neighboring community of Galet Greffin.  The Pierres’ shelter is gradually becoming a ‘home’ – in addition to the flower garden, there are the white floral-patterned curtains at the front door and in a window, two beds with immaculate white sheets, and a rack with clean cups, plates and bowls neatly arranged .

Says Francius, “Here in this house is the best place we could be right now. I think I would like to live here for a long time.” Still, there is plenty of worry for him and for Marie-Marthe as they look toward the future.

He says, “One of the things I most worry about is getting a job.  Things are good since we moved here, but now I have to start thinking about paying school fees for the boys.  Selling phone credit is a small activity – it cannot support a family. If something sudden comes up, and I need to buy the kids something that they need, I could not do it.”

For now, however there is a palpable sense of relief, and if not yet hope, stability.

“There is a big difference in our lives now since we moved here from the tent.  There it was very hot during the day.  Now I am sitting in the house in the middle of the day, and you can see it is cool, there is a breeze coming through the window. I am proud to have the opportunity to raise these two children in this place – it is a gift from God.”

When I asked Fred, age 6, for his thoughts, he was emphatic:  “I like this place because I can play inside – I couldn’t play inside the tent!”

I wanted to conclude with a summary of the impact of these new shelters at Tabarre Issa, but I don’t think I could offer anything more profound than that.