Tabarre - Tabarre Issa. January 10, 2012

By Ed Kenney, Communications Officer

Ed was in Haiti on the two-year anniversary of the earthquake that devastated the country’s capital and surrounding areas on January 12, 2010. A member of Concern Worldwide’s Emergency Response Team to Haiti, Ed reflects on what is different on the ground two years later.

Kethlyne St. Previl, 40, is beaming.  She is talking about her Concern-supported business selling food in a kiosk on the main access road into Tabarre Issa.  Her table is piled high with a bounty of Haitian street food – small fried pastries, plantains, meat patties, chicken, hot dogs.  “Business is very, very good,” she announces, smiling broadly.  Then she looks at some of the Concern team gathered around and adds, “And these are some of my best customers!”  Laughter all around.

The eating habits of Concern staff notwithstanding, Kethlyne is doing a steady business among her 2,650 neighbors living in 527 transitional shelters at Tabarre Issa.  The shelters are basic, but they are safe – resistant to hurricanes and earthquakes, and fireproof.  When we first met her in October 2011, Kethlyne had just moved into her new house, and had a few days earlier opened business just next to it.  She’s expanded, and moved into a higher traffic area.

“I am making it and I am getting my ideas together about continuing my business when I leave here,” she says.

Sanon Dominique - (l to r) Mercile Sanon, 74, Gerdriche Dominique, 44, and Valencia Louis Dominique, 22 in their new home near Camp Oscar. January 10, 2012

She is speaking to the fact that Tabarre Issa was constructed as a temporary settlement, designed to bridge the gap to more permanent housing.  Most residents, like Kethlyne, came here from Valle de Bourdon, a Port-au-Prince neighborhood where homes were built on steep ravine walls — it sustained an unbearably heavy toll in lives and homes on January 12, 2010.

It would be reductive and profoundly wrong to take the smiles and easy laughter shared with Kethlyne St. Previl as any sort of symbol of Haiti’s recovery.  The truth is that I can remember sharing easy laughter with Haitians in the first days after the earthquake.  Context, of course makes all the difference.  Perhaps then it was a defense mechanism based on the human instinct to reclaim normalcy in the face of a world turned upside down.  And maybe now it comes out of that same instinct, but in response to a growing sense of standing on safe, stable ground where hope can grow.

Where Kethlyne and her neighbors will go after Tabarre Issa, or where any of the Haitians living in temporary shelters will go, is the next big question facing the government and non-governmental organizations (NGOs) here in Haiti.  The fact that the land on which Bourdon residents built their homes before the earthquake is not safe is just one of the myriad challenges complicating the process.

Such a complex problem requires a multi-pronged response, and Concern’s “Return to Neighborhoods Program” is that.  In 2011 the approach was piloted at Camp Oscar, a gravelly football pitch that became a tent camp immediately after the earthquake, with 192 families, close to 1,000 people living in unimaginably cramped quarters. Entering the camp in 2010 or early 2011 was like entering a maze, the narrow spaces between crudely constructed shelters allowing just one person to pass at a time.

Today Camp Oscar is no longer. The field is completely clear. You can find schoolchildren taking wide looping spins across the expanse on a shared bike during recess, and young men playing spirited matches there in the early evening.

St Previl - Kethlyne St Previl shows off her handiwork at her foodstand at Tabarre Issa. January 10, 2012

How did it happen?  Concern’s team got to know every family at Camp Oscar, each of whom had a different story.  Some homes had completely collapsed, some were damaged, some were still standing but landlords were not reachable or rental terms had changed.  In all cases, people had been out of work or out of business for over a year.  The team took all of these stories, all of the data and used them to formulate a recipe of options to be made available: assistance with home repair for damaged houses or provision of a one-year rental subsidy to help families get into homes once beyond their reach; training and cash transfers to help with small business start-up and income generation; and education vouchers to help children get back to school.

By the end of 2011, all 192 families had been resettled into homes, mostly in their original neigborhoods.

One such family is presided over by Mercile Sanon, 74, now living with her daughter, granddaughter and great-grandson in a second floor apartment on a hill above Camp Oscar. Mercile opted for the rental subsidy which has enables them to pay their landlord as daughter Gerdriche Dominique,44, gets her business off the ground, selling drinks, snacks and phone credit at a kiosk along Delmas 16, the main street nearby.

They welcome us into their apartment, and the only way I can characterize the sensation upon entering is ‘home.’ Smiles and laughter come easily. Baby Woodney, a month old, sleeps peacefully on one bed.  We are welcomed to sit and talk on the edge of another.  When we ask them how it feels to be here instead of in the camp, Mercile says, “It feels safe. Before we never knew what could happen, what was in the future.  Now we can sleep.  It feels normal.”

Concern is now rolling out its “Return to Neighborhoods” approach at Place de La Paix, where 5,300 people will be assisted in the return home.  In all, the program intends to reach 14,000 people by the end of 2012, and it has been recognized as best practice by the government and partners.  In fact, many of the core elements of the approach have been incorporated into the national return strategy.

In the past 24 months, Concern Worldwide has provided clean water and sanitation to 75,000 earthquake survivors in Haiti, and has provided emergency shelter to 98,877 people. IN the past year, we built longer-term housing for 7,420 people and relocated displaced families out of camps.

On the two-year anniversary of the devastating earthquake that struck Haiti on January 12, 2010, I feel it is important to reflect on the very significant progress that has been achieved in helping people recover from one of the world’s worst natural disasters on record, and to address some of the criticism about the efforts of international aid agencies.

To understand the scale of the catastrophe two years ago, it is important to remember the unique nature of the Haitian context. The 7.0-magnitude earthquake was a massive blow to a deeply impoverished country: 75 percent of Haitians earned less than $2 a day, only half of the country’s children were in primary school, and the majority of the population had no access to electricity.

Unprecedented scale of destruction in urban context

Coping with the effects of the earthquake on top of Haiti’s long-standing poverty issues and lack of basic social services and infrastructure was a colossal challenge, not only for the families and communities directly affected, but also for the government and the international and local aid community. It was the unprecedented level of destruction in a densely populated urban context that set the Haiti crisis apart from other natural disasters. We all know the massive death toll, an unthinkable 230,000 people. The other facts regarding the scale of destruction have also been reported over and over around the world:  250,000 homes destroyed and 1.5 million people displaced.

It has been somewhat puzzling, then, that several news reports in the past few weeks have focused solely on what they perceive to be the slow pace of Haiti’s recovery. It is vital to put the Haiti disaster in context in order to estimate a reasonable timeline for recovery. The 7.2-magnitude earthquake Kobe, Japan in 1995 has been described by the Guinness Book of World Records as the “costliest natural disaster to befall any one country.” It claimed more than 6,000 lives, left an estimated 300,000 homeless, destroyed highways and more than 100,000 buildings and caused more than $100 billion in damage and a major decline in the Japanese Stock Markets.  It took more than seven years for the region’s income levels and industrial sector to recover to pre-earthquake levels.

What is disheartening to me, as the CEO of an aid organization that prides itself on the close partnerships it has forged with local communities to bring about great changes in Haiti, is that there has been so little recognition of the tangible improvements on the ground in Haiti since the earthquake.

Progress in Haiti since the earthquake

Let’s look at some facts: the number of displaced people living in camps in Port-au-Prince has decreased from 1.5 million to about 550,000; half of the 10 million cubic meters of rubble has been removed; 75 percent of children living in camps are going to school; and almost 100,000 transitional shelters have been built. There is evidence of progress in the areas of job creation and infrastructure development—including 267 miles of new roads in a country with notoriously poor access to markets for its agricultural production. In fact, agricultural production itself increased in 2010, and again in 2011, and new agricultural credit facilities and microloans are reaching tens of thousands of rural Haitians.

Challenges that have slowed the pace of recovery

We must also be frank about the fact that the recovery effort has involved serious challenges. For all of these advances, the aid community has experienced setbacks and obstacles. The lack of a functioning government for five months of 2011, including the absence of a government policy on building new housing during the first year after the earthquake, seriously hampered efforts to take action to restore people’s assets and rebuild communities. Land tenure issues, including disputes among several parties often claiming ownership of the same land, coupled with threats of eviction, further exacerbated the problems of relocating displaced populations from camps to long-term housing. When building could get underway, lengthy customs delays postponed supplies and heavy equipment reaching contractors. In addition, the local market was overwhelmed by the demand for goods needed for the massive reconstruction effort. The challenge of delivering an emergency response in a densely populated city of 2.7 million people is no small task, particularly when poverty remains the single biggest issue facing the population.

Long-term housing for Haiti’s displaced families

We acknowledge that the challenges we face are massive, but the formation of a new government in October 2011 has meant that non-governmental organizations (NGOs) like Concern can resume working with the ministries responsible for Haiti’s long-term recovery and development. Already, we are seeing the potential of partnerships with the newly elected government. Our “Return to Neighborhoods” program, a holistic model of resettlement for displaced families, was singled out by the government of Haiti as an example of best practice in recovery initiatives, and our intervention model was considered in the development of the national strategy to move displaced populations out of camps. Concern’s initiative offers the poorest displaced families financial support, small business training and education vouchers to help parents pay school fees for their children and set up sustainable sources of income. Since the earthquake, Concern has reached more than 237,000 people through its emergency and recovery programs.

A huge amount of hard work still lies ahead. Nearly half of Haiti’s population has no access to clean water, and 80 percent of the population lacks access to basic sanitation. To address these challenges, we are working closely with Haiti’s national water authority to implement a user-fee approach to water. We will continue to work ever more closely with local partners and increasingly with government ministries to implement planned, phased programs that will reduce the reliance of communities on our assistance. But rebuilding infrastructure and services to benefit 10 million Haitians will take time. The process must be led by Haiti’s elected government, in consultation with the people and with support from the international community and the private sector.

The role of partnerships in Haiti’s recovery

For this level of coordination to succeed, a structural shift in the way that funding is distributed is required. Current short-term funding does not allow for comprehensive programming that addresses the root causes of poverty. Launching long-term development programs that will improve agriculture and significantly rebuild infrastructure requires multi-year development funding, particularly now that emergency spending is being phased out and aid organizations are leaving due to lack of funds and donor fatigue.

Now is not the time to scale back— international governments that have pledged money to Haiti must honor their promises and stay the course. Public-private partnerships have a huge role to play, as do partnerships with non-profits and community groups. In 2012, the Irish non-governmental organization Haven will support Concern’s “Return to Neighborhoods” project to repair homes damaged in the earthquake. Concern has also worked with Digicel to distribute emergency cash transfers to earthquake survivors via mobile phone technology. Going forward, we will continue to explore new opportunities with the private sector. Partnerships with farmers associations, community groups and other civil society organizations will all play a role in Haiti’s recovery.

The Haitian people have demonstrated extraordinary resilience. Ultimately, it is they who will chart the course for their country’s future. In the meantime, humanitarian and development organizations like Concern Worldwide must continue to work closely with communities, local and national NGOs, the United Nations and government partners to restore and build the skills, resources and capacity required for Haiti’s phased recovery. We all share a responsibility to the Haitian people, a responsibility to match their vision of a future with solutions that will bring about sustainable change. There is strong evidence that by working in close collaboration with the government, local communities and partners on the ground we can achieve that, but we cannot succeed without the continued political and financial commitments of the international community.

For more detailed information on Concern’s emergency and recovery response in Haiti click here.

Boy is bathed at a Concern-supported stabilization center in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, just before leaving for home. Photo: Megan Christensen, Concern Worldwide

The observance of World Water Day this year (March 22), with its spotlight on urban emergencies, comes at a time when many humanitarian aid and relief organizations are contemplating—in some cases, studying in-depth—the growing trend of large emergencies shifting from rural to urban settings.

Increasingly erratic weather patterns, which some link to man-made climate change, are causing droughts and floods that are driving millions to leave the countryside for cities.

In Haiti, in the aftermath of the devastating earthquake, Concern Worldwide had to tackle most of these issues in highly challenging circumstances, with Port-au-Prince qualifying as a highly impoverished urban setting experiencing a major emergency albeit in extraordinary circumstances. The city was one of the most challenging environments for water and sanitation before the earthquake; the massive disaster only made the situation exponentially more complicated.

We had to respond quickly and accurately, which was enormously difficult.  Our efforts were hampered by huge logistical challenges, including impossible traffic and, especially toward the latter part of the year, unrest and frequent demonstrations, and the further challenge of the serious cholera outbreak.

Concern immediately distributes water to residents of a displacement camp hours after the earthquake struck on January 12, 2010. Photo: Ed Kenney, Concern Worldwide

The earthquake left countless people without access to basic services such as clean water and toilets. Today, the bulk of our beneficiaries live in camps, where the logistics of supplying water and sanitation are relatively straightforward. But the job is costly and cannot be sustained indefinitely. Families need to return home or be given temporary shelters that all need clean water and toilets.

Here are some numbers to show progress has been made: About six months ago there were locations in the city where a single latrine was serving 2000 people per day! Getting this down number down to below 800—to stave of serious disease outbreaks such as cholera—was a major struggle. Yet, we are now meeting the standard of 50 persons per latrine. For things to work long-term, we are putting a lot of focus on the engagement, training and capacity-building of local communities to take responsibility for the water infrastructure.

We currently supply an estimated 3,000 gallons a day via water truck to each of 28 locations in Port-au-Prince, serving 75,000 people; we are also in the final stages of 50 so-called block latrines—each with 12 doors—in multiple locations; we have responsibility for waste disposal for approx 540 latrines around the city. In the 18 camps where we work, we remove almost 400,000 gallons of waste every month.

The people’s suffering and our responsibility to come to their aid make up the real story. The fate of one family of eight has stuck with me in a powerful way. Parents Janice Simeone and Dieu Puissant and their six children—made homeless by the earthquake—were living in a ramshackle tent in the Place Boyer spontaneous settlement, smack in a downtown Port-au-Prince slum. Utter lack of hygiene and overcrowded, dirty sanitation led to four of the children and Dieu getting violently ill with diarrhea and vomiting—the warning signs of cholera. Luckily, we were able to get them all treatment in a hospital.

Kudos to the UN for putting the spotlight on these urban water facts:

Already half of the world’s population lives in the city. In two decades, their number will grow to 60 percent, or 5 billion people. And 95 percent of the urban population growth in the next decades will take place in the developing world, whose cities grow by an average of 5 million new residents every month! Every second, the world’s urban population grows by two people.

Urban slums pose a particular problem for the humanitarian aid community. The people there already suffer chronic poverty and all its attendant ills, including lack of reliable, consistent and convenient access to water and hygienic facilities, health care, and nutrition. Concern has embarked on a study of the slums in Kenya to develop and empirically test a set of emergency indicators for urban slum environment—to determine when chronic poverty becomes an urban humanitarian crisis.

Award-winning Concern latrine block in displacement camp outside Port-au-Prince, which was cited by United Nations as a best-practice model. Photo: Ed Kenney, Concern Worldwide.

This exploding urban population growth creates unprecedented challenges—with the supply of and access to safe water and proper sanitation being crucial for the maintenance of good health. Common massive killers of children under five in the city—malaria (once thought to be a strictly rural disease), pneumonia, diarrhea, worm infestation, and cholera—are linked to dirty and stagnant water. Across the board, around the world, 2 million tons of human waste is disposed of in water sources. Lack of wastewater treatment and drainage facilities—especially in the developing world—leads to dangerous pollution of the ground-and-surface water resources.

Crisis or not, the 827.6 slum dwellers in the developing world—62 percent of them living in sub-Saharan Africa—are often lacking adequate drinking water and proper sanitary facilities. Twenty-seven percent of the developing world’s urban population does not have piped water in their houses; and 493 million people in cities share their sanitation facilities—in 1990 that number stood at 259 million. Worldwide, one in four city residents, or 794 million people, lives without access to updated sanitation facilities.

To make matters worse, the poor pay more: someone in the slums in Nairobi pays 5 to 7 times more for a gallon of water than the average North American citizen. Elsewhere in the developing world the urban poor may pay up to 50 times more than their richer neighbors because they are forced to pay private vendors. Plus, an estimated more than 132,000 gallons of usable typically leaks away each year in the world’s mega cities—saving this amount of water would be sufficient for the yearly needs of 10 million to 20 million in such a mega city.

Our numbers in Haiti are but tiny figures against the backdrop of the growing  global water crisis, of course. But not all is doom and gloom. The Third UN World Water Development report, published in 2009, insists that the world’s water problems are manageable, and that the required knowledge, experience and technology are already in place to create a durable water infrastructure, sanitation and waste disposal infrastructure, as well as the curbing of pollution and adequate protection against flooding. If only the world’s leaders would put their minds to it. At all levels of government—national, regional, local—water must become a priority.

Guest blogger Kevin Fortuna visits a Child Friendly Spaces Center managed by Concern in Haiti. Photo: Haiti, Concern Worldwide

By Guest Blogger, Kevin Fortuna, Concern US Board Member

We met at JFK airport just after sunrise, the six of us: two staffers from Concern Worldwide (a large international charity), three supporters, and me. We were all a little anxious, having digested both the recommended dosage of anti-malaria drugs as well as the federal security warnings that basically told us not to do what we were about to do.

The flight took less than three hours, about the length of time it takes to get from New York City to Miami. But instead of a first-world American city on the other side of that flight, we stepped off into a place the world has forgotten, the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.

When we deplaned in Port-au-Prince, we were greeted by an incongruous welcome: a band six-piece band performing a festive tune that sounded like a cross between calypso and salsa music. Though the music was enchanting and, in many ways, a fitting beginning to our trip, reality hit us when we left the airport. We were rushed into a waiting SUV and through the ruins of Haiti’s capital city to the first of many “camps” managed by Concern Worldwide.

This and all but one of the other camps we visited are what development workers call “spontaneous,” meaning they sprang up after the earthquakes in any open space where tents and makeshift structures could be erected on open land—including a private golf course, a soccer field and the grounds of a warehouse and trucking compound. At one camp we saw a medical tent that housed malnourished children and provided a safe space for their mothers to care for them under nurses’ supervision.

Concern constructs transitional hurricane-proof shelters in Haiti. Photo: Haiti, Concern Worldwide

At another camp, we spent time in a child-friendly tent where kids were singing songs and learning about hygiene and safe drinking water. At the camp built on a soccer field, all four of the goal posts were incorporated as tent poles by residents of the camp.

This particular camp had seen some unrest and violence and the managing NGO had recruited camp residents to run security patrols near the water station. The threat of violence still hung in the air, and we could see it in the looks the security men exchanged with some adolescents nearby.

What’s remarkable is that there has not been far more violence. Haiti’s population is estimated to be a little more than 10 million people, and almost ten percent of them are jammed into the wreckage of its capital city. The country’s official unemployment rate is 80 percent, but we were told that it’s probably closer to 90 percent.

Haiti’s history has been cursed by unstable and often corrupt governments and an almost total lack of economic progress. Port-au-Prince is not so much a city anymore, but a demolition site. Structures are marked with serial numbers underneath a red, yellow or green dot. Green means that the structure is habitable, yellow means that it’s questionable and red means that it’s marked for demolition. We saw red dots everywhere.

Haiti had precious little hope prior to the earthquake, but now the people of Port-au-Prince face almost unimaginable hardship. No reliable sources of food and water, no permanent places to live, no jobs, and a government that has been slow to respond to a growing crisis. The NGO staffers we met in Haiti are some of the most unselfish and committed people I’ve ever met. The humility and generosity of spirit with which they approach their work is inspiring. But they admit that the main work of their operation is relief, sanitation, healthcare and education. They cannot solve Haiti’s more fundamental problems.

A lady sits outside her new home at Tabarre Issa camp, Port-au-Prince. Photo: Haiti, Concern Worldwide

Our trip ended with a tour of Tabare Issa, a camp run by Concern which has quickly become a model for Haiti and the rest of the developing world. The beating heart of the camp is a sophisticated carpentry operation which assembles “transitional shelters” at a breakneck pace under the watchful eye of Concern staffer and civil engineer, Tom Dobbins.

Dobbins and his team recruited and trained a small staff of camp residents who now work efficiently enough to build up to fifteen shelters per day. These attractive wooden structures replace fragile tents, and Dobbins can’t build them fast enough. In stark contrast to the other camps we visited, Tabare Issa is teeming with life and hope. Children played on an adjacent soccer field (instead of using the goal posts as tent poles). Many shelters had private gardens and porches. The camp apparently has a long waiting list of applicants. In Tabare Issa, I saw proof positive of what I’d heard many times from Concern staffers: Haitians want to work, be productive, care for their families and achieve a measure of order and stability.

In America, we don’t hear much about Haiti anymore. Outside of occasional headlines about celebrity involvement from the likes of Sean Penn and Wyclef Jean, America has forgotten our next door neighbor. As we move further along into the New Year it’s a good time to think about our neighbors and reassess our priorities. Why is it that we hear so much about crises in the Middle East and other distant regions, and so little about our neighbor to the south? Children are dying preventable deaths in Haiti every day.

While it’s true that we don’t have an immediate national security interest at stake, surely we have a moral and humanitarian obligation to do more, to make Haiti a bigger part of our national dialog, get involved, to care more, to give more. I’m no exception: I learned about Haiti and traveled there only because I serve as a member of Concern’s U.S. Board of Directors.

Dominic MacSorley, Operations Director of Concern, recently said in a blog post that “Haiti is music.” And music was a hallmark of our trip, whether it was the musical greeting we got at the airport, or church hymns being belted out by an impromptu congregation in front of the ruins of a grand cathedral, or the songs of welcome sung in unison by the children packed into one of our host charity’s child-friendly tents. Music is transcendent; it’s about life and hope and dreams. MacSorley is correct: Haiti is Music. America—and the world—should listen to it.

Concern was on the ground distributing water to Haitians just 48 hours after the earthquake of January 12, 2010. Photo: Haiti, Concern Worldwide

By Jennifer Jalovec, Haiti Emergency Program Coordinator, Concern Worldwide

My journey to Haiti really began with 9/11. I had been working in marketing and promotions for broadcast and print media in New York at the time, a job I had held for nine years. In the days following the attack, I started to question what I was doing with my life and if I were making any kind of positive impact in the lives of others.

Fast forward to 2005: I joined the Peace Corps at age 35, and my humanitarian career was off and running. Today, I am the Emergency Coordinator for Concern Worldwide in Haiti, overseeing a recovery program for the poorest country in western hemisphere, which is still reeling from the devastating earthquake that struck it a year ago.

Sure, there are days when I miss my comfortable corporate life in Manhattan— having lunch at a cafe on Madison Avenue, walking through Central Park, or being able to catch the latest movie at an air-conditioned multiplex. But I have gladly traded all of that to contribute to the positive impact the international aid community is making in the lives of the Haitian people. The story of Haiti is best told through an individual’s concrete experience.

There is a young woman living in the planned settlement of Tabarre Issa, a Concern-designed and Concern-managed planned settlement—the country’s first, in fact—just outside Port-au-Prince. Sarah (not her real name) had a stroke years ago that caused partial paralysis, which forced her to stop attending school. Her condition worsened after the trauma of the

Concern staff at work on a hurricane-proof transitional shelter at new settlement camp of Tabarre Issa. Photo: Haiti, Concern Worldwide

earthquake.

On the afternoon of the earthquake, a friend had invited her to come over for a visit. If Sarah had been at home, she would likely have been killed under the weight of her collapsed house.  As is true for so many of the 1.3 million displaced, her family lost everything: loved ones, their home, livelihoods, and all their possessions.

At Tabarre Issa, Sarah’s family was one of the first to receive a transitional shelter built by Concern. These are durable, hurricane-proof structures meant to last up to five years. Until just some weeks ago, Sarah and her family lived in a tent. She recently told me: “I was so, so happy when we moved into the new house. I was laughing and jumping all over the place. I was saying, ‘That’s my house! That’s my house from Concern! Look at my house!’” The look of happiness and hope in her face is indisputable evidence that the aid community is making a difference: Sarah’s family of seven has a place to call home; her mother was able to restart her petty trading business; and the young woman herself is selling socks and women’s items—and dreaming of the day when she can pick up her studies in information sciences.

By mid-year, Concern will have built 1,500 of these transitional shelters, in Tabarre as well as in the surrounding communities, serving the various populations with a full range of services (water, sanitation, cash-for-work opportunities). All this work is turning the area into a promising microcosm of the country’s immediate future.

The biggest challenge for aid organizations in providing transitional and permanent shelter similar to those at Concern’s site in Tabarre has been accessing land to build the structures. Land tenure was a problem prior to the earthquake and has gotten worse—coupled with the fact that 80 percent of camp residents were renters prior to the earthquake and now have nowhere to go. This cannot be solved by the international community alone; we need a workable resettlement strategy that all stakeholders are involved with and that is led by the Haitian government.

Those that are criticizing the aid effort in Haiti need to be here day in and day out to see all that has been accomplished in an extremely difficult context.  We are working against a multitude of obstacles in an environment of complex emergencies, political instability, and insecurity. Given these many challenges, we can be proud of the work that has been accomplished.  We cannot let the negative press get to us: we are doing the best we can do under uniquely challenging circumstances.

Collapsed building close to one of Port-au-Prince’s main streets just hours after the earthquake struck on January 12, 2010.

I cannot even begin to compare Haiti to anywhere I have worked before, the situation here is so unique, given the sheer magnitude of the disaster and the fact that agencies that were already operating in Haiti prior to the earthquake were affected immensely by the disaster. NGOs suffered losses themselves—staff members died and staff lost family members and friends, which also impacted the emergency response.  Yet I am constantly amazed at the resilience of the Haitian people, through all their loss and suffering they have an upbeat outlook on life, which is an absolute inspiration.

There is currently a great deal of uncertainty as to what will happen next in the election process. But we cannot let that stop our earthquake recovery and cholera response operations. The most important thing for everyone is to continue moving forward on a day-by-day basis. Still, the recent violence slowed down our work, and there is a real concern that we will not have access to camps and neighborhoods if the security situation worsens again.

To prevent further cases, Concern’s Cholera Response Team must be able to transport and distribute vital cholera response materials—soap, Oral Rehydration Salts and Aquatabs—and have access to our water and sanitation program areas to provide potable water and maintain latrines. Safe passage to Cholera Treatment Centers is the difference between life and death. Concern, together with other NGOs, has appealed to the international community for a guarantee of humanitarian access and free movement of staff and emergency supplies so that we can continue our work no matter what happens.

Family collects water from one of several water points set up at the Tabarre Issa site. Photo: Haiti, Concern Worldwide

Yes, this is the one-year anniversary of the horrible earthquake of January 12, 2010. And we must observe the occasion in various ways. There is an unfounded expectation that the one-year mark must go hand-in-hand with a record of super accomplishments by NGOs—like finding homes for more than 1 million displaced people; and rebuilding the city’s water and sanitation infrastructure from scratch.

The entire recovery and rebuilding process will take years. Concern has been saying this from the beginning. As Sarah’s story powerfully illustrates, progress is being made on a daily basis—and unrealistic expectations for Haiti must be kept in check. In the meantime, we—and I speak for all of my colleagues at Concern—aren’t going anywhere.

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.

Concern is building transitional shelter for 2,500 people at a new site it designed at Tabarre Issa.

(PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti—July 12, 2010) It was a hot afternoon on Jan. 12, the day that marked the beginning of the toughest, most agonizing stretch of my professional career.

Fast forward to today, the six-month point after the quake. The UN and an army of aid agencies have provided emergency shelter—in the form of tents and tarpaulins—to 354,573 households, which actually accounts for more than 1.7 million people. Survivors are scattered across 1,100 camps, their shelter being precarious at best now that the hurricane season has begun. The work for the longer haul is now underway.

Along with other NGOs, Concern is entering the medium to long-term phase of the earthquake response: to provide displaced families with durable housing for the coming couple of years, pending the construction of permanent residences. This will absorb a significant portion of the billions of dollars raised and pledged worldwide. The real hard work has now begun—there are plans to construct a total of 125,308 transitional shelters, at least 1200 of which will be built by Concern. And yes, there are lots of obstacles. The government is still in the process of reorganizing itself and not much will change until after the fall elections.

Yes, there is still much suffering. It is a good thing media around the world haven’t lost interest completely, even as significant coverage of the situation in Haiti has slowed to a trickle. This sad six-month marker will hopefully spark renewed interest. However, I want to call attention to some good news—good news that is unlikely to be reported but that deserves to be in the spotlight.

Some of our worst fears have never materialized. There has not been an outbreak of cholera or any other deadly disease. There have been no significant food riots. There is no shortage of water. In fact, the supply of water in the Haitian capital is better than it was before the quake. Supported by donor nations, the UN and the many INGOs have improved dramatically on some very sad pre-quake statistics: half the population of Port-au-Prince did not have access to latrines and only a third of the urban population had access to safe water.

But this situation cannot be sustained indefinitely. The current system of provision is simply too expensive to keep it going for very long. Donors will not continue, for example, to finance trucking in fresh water at all those distribution points or the many other services that are saving people’s lives today and making their existence livable, more so than before the quake, up to a level that is simply decent and respectful of human dignity.
This is the great challenge before us: we have created a functioning system and now all of us—the Haitian government, world governments, the UN, all the agencies, as well as private individuals—must find a way to make this system permanent.

The people are coming to expect that. Rarely in the country’s recent history (at least) has the relative quality of life been predictable. In the past, the national government has not been able to meet the needs of the country’s population on its own. I worry that, when the aid agencies leave (and many of them, inevitably, will leave at some stage in the not-too-distant future), the nation will face utter hardship again. We have an opportunity now to make lasting changes for the better.

The phrase has perhaps been over-used, but Haitians are enormously resilient. Time and again, they have bounced back after enormous man-made and natural disasters. Their sense of dignity is moving and inspiring. The present crisis is an opportunity to marshal the people’s resources in a most practical and lasting way. As agencies working on the frontlines, we have the golden opportunity to help build the capacity of the Haitian people and its government to look at themselves as their nation’s most powerful resource.

Of course, we have to work alongside them and empower the Haitian people with the tools and knowledge to help them. On a practical level that means, for example, working with local partners on the ground to improve access to basic services and opportunities. For example, training community health workers and educating mothers and communities about nutrition and how to prevent illnesses; strengthening health and education systems and removing barriers between existing services and those in need; improving access to income and food by expanding cash-for-work programs and outright emergency cash distributions so that people can start up small-scale businesses again and breathe life into the local economy; training communities in conflict negotiation and dialogue to build peace and defuse civil violence. We can offer our experience in finding local solutions as well as in community mobilization, capacity building, and sustainable development.

In the long term, the people themselves hold the answers. If the international community works in partnership with the Haitian government and makes a commitment and investment to rebuild over the long term, with a focus on building local capacity, Haiti will indeed come out of this stronger. Time will tell.

German-born, Elke Leidel is Country Director for international humanitarian organization Concern Worldwide’s programs in Haiti. She previously headed Concern operations in Liberia. A former professor of biology and chemistry, Leidel has served on behalf of a number of aid agencies in Algeria, Iran and Sierra Leone.

Mothers enter one of Concern's newly set up baby tents. Photo: Ed Kenney, Concern Worldwide.

PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti – I was scheduled to travel to Haiti early in the year to visit Concern’s USAID funded Child Survival Program, but the January 12 earthquake changed all that. I finally arrived in Port-au-Prince May 24 after my flight the day before had been cancelled. I began to wonder if I would never get there.

My first impression is that Haiti seems, on the surface at least, similar to West Africa. There is such vibrancy here and resilience among the people—but, just under the surface, there must also be a lot of pain and loss. That was evident as I visited the neighborhoods where the Child Survival Program is still functioning to some extent.

I visited the community center near the rubble in St Martin, hidden among many of the buildings still standing, where new mothers meet to discuss their health concerns, as well as encourage and support each other during this challenging time.

I saw more evidence of the impact of the quake at the University Hospital, were newborns were being treated in critical care units where some mothers abandoned their children because they could no longer care for them. I saw the impact of the earthquake in the baby boy with HIV who would recover fully from malnutrition, and in the last few breaths of a newborn who was brought to the center too late—and in the lines of mothers with babies and children stretched along the main road leading up to the hospital and in the tents where dozens of children and infants were being treated.

I observed Concern’s peer training initiative, in which Concern mobilizes experienced mothers to explain the importance of breastfeeding, vaccination, and preventing diseases such as malaria and diarrhea to new mothers. It was great to see the interest of so many mothers involved in this process. The room was packed and the spirit was high—despite the bleak surroundings of rubble and debris.

Child is treated for malnutrition at Concern's stabilization unit. Photo: Ed Kenney, Concern Worldwide

The political climate is highly charged and one can read (in French) the many graffiti slogans for and against the government. There were organized demonstrations full of chanting and music similar to a New Orleans second-line parade. Along the roadways, there are numerous makeshift settlements, some consisting of 6-10 tents and others too numerous to count. Yet, to my surprise, most of the city is intact and functioning as if things were normal; bright colorful murals are a reminder of days not so long ago.

Haiti has never been a country without difficulty, and now that is even more evident. But, at the same time, more help has arrived. Still, many of the victims are cut off from help. They still go without regular meals and shelter, because they have no job and their relatives’ homes have also been destroyed. What happens to them? What happens when the emergency response concludes? What happens when the next big hurricane arrives?

The rains have started—and the weather forecast for the upcoming hurricane season is similar to 2005 when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. People are very worried about how the rains will affect their lean-to and tent shelters, many of which are on the sides of slopes and in ravines between hills and mountains. The rain can make everything fresh and cool—and relief from temperatures in the 90s with 90 percent humidity—but mosquito bites are reminders of dangers just lurking under the surface in the form of malaria and dengue fever.

My time in Haiti is too short for me to even begin to grasp the enormity and complexity of the situation. But later in the summer I will return to assist with the final evaluation of the Child Survival Program and in making plans for next steps— doing what I can to bring some routine and steadiness to a city still in flux five months after nature’s wrath.

A soccer stadium just four months ago, this tent settlement at Place de la Paix in Port-au-Prince is now home to 8,000 people.

By Mark Jafar – Vice President of Corporate Communications at MTV Networks – for Concern Worldwide

Walk around the edges of the sunken tent settlement at Place de la Paix in Port-au-Prince, and it’s nearly impossible to tell that this was a soccer stadium just four months ago.

The grass is gone entirely, replaced by bare earth and debris.  There are no goal nets or benches, just shelters made of tarp, cardboard, and rusted scraps of sheet metal.

And where kids and adults once gathered to watch soccer matches or to kick a ball across the field, an estimated 8,000 displaced people are now living in shocking, unsanitary, overcrowded conditions, often with nothing but a few pieces of plastic sheeting to shelter them from the rains, which are heavy this time of year.

Over 1.5 million people were made homeless by the earthquake—and they have sought shelter in literally any open space available in Port-au-Prince—many are living on the street. Another 8,000 people are crowded into what was a public square adjacent to the soccer field, making Place de la Paix (“place of peace”), one of Port-au-Prince’s largest and most densely populated makeshift settlements.

The conditions in which these many thousands of people are living are squalid and shocking.

Concern’s Child-Friendly Space in Place de la Paix camp serves 200 children in the mornings and another 200 in the afternoons.

But on the edge of the camp is an unexpected bright spot: a children’s slide, a tiny merry-go-round, a colorful mural—and children gathered together, singing and playing.

This is part of Concern Worldwide’s emergency response program in Port-au-Prince: in the midst of some of the largest makeshift camps, Concern has set up education interventions for earthquake-affected children in “Child-Friendly Spaces.”

These are, essentially, transitional classrooms, many in large tents or existing structures, that offer a refuge and a safe learning space for children made homeless by the earthquake. The Child Friendly Spaces are reaching close to 2,000 earthquake-affected children—giving them instruction in basic reading and writing, as well as arts, crafts and music.

The Concern program also provides psychosocial support to these vulnerable children whose lives have been disrupted by trauma and shock. The Child Friendly Spaces offers a vital sense of safety and stability, and connect the children with a reliable routine that brings a sense of normalcy back into their lives

“The idea is to create a space where kids can be kids, and continue to receive education as the schools reopen,” says Dominic MacSorley, Operations Director for Concern Worldwide US and Emergency Coordinator for Concern Worldwide.

The Child-Friendly Spaces are staffed by animateurs, local educators with training in music, drama, and art hired by Concern to create a transitional curriculum that provides basic learning until the children can be placed in formal education programs and schools.

At Place de la Paix, the team of twelve animateurs is supervised by Jasmin Asline, a member of Concern’s Education team. “When they arrive, they’re quiet, reserved.  But slowly they get more comfortable and social,” says Jasmin.  “We’re patient, we play with them, we teach them love and unity.”

Annette Ambroisa,  41, has seen changes in her daughters, Farline, (6), and Fedeline, (2),  since they’ve started coming to the Concern program:

The Child-Friendly Spaces are staffed by animateurs, local educators with training in music, drama, and art. They provide basic learning until the children can be placed back into formal education.

“They’re happier, they’re learning something new every day, and they’re able to stay clean,” she says, which is difficult but critical in Place de la Paix.

“I like the way they work with the kids,” she says of Concern’s staff.  “And (the kids) like coming.”

Concern’s Child-Friendly Space in Place de la Paix camp serves 200 children in the mornings and another 200 in the afternoons, all of whom come dressed in the best clothing they have left.

Education is highly valued in Haiti. Programs like this provide more than education; they are also a means of preserving families’ dignity.

At Place de la Paix, the voices of children fill the Concern tent with call-and-response songs, and the room is alive as kids bounce up and down underneath hearts and guitars cut from construction paper that hang from the ceiling.

The tunes are familiar – “If You’re Happy and You Know It,” for instance, and a few old Haitian gospel songs.

The lyrics, however, are brand new, written by the animateurs to help the children work through the stress and uncertainty that accompanies everyday life here.  “Thank You, Concern.  Thank You, UNICEF” is among the most popular refrains.

But their favorite song, according to Jasmin?

“Space for the Little Children.”

Concern paves the way for the newly built settlement in Tabarre Issa, which can accomodate more than 500 families. Photo: Haiti, Concern Worldwide

By Mark Jafar – Vice President of Corporate Communications at MTV Networks. Mark is currently visiting Concern’s emergency operation in Haiti.

Bourdon Valley, Port-au-Prince – Tucked into the hills that rise above central Port-au-Prince lies Bourdon Valley, an enclave of beautiful, verdant forest flanked by the eastern suburbs of Delmas and Canape Vert.

With its thick mango groves and gently winding river, it’s easy to see why one would make this home.  But the small, basic concrete houses that once lined the Valley walls now lie in ruin, replaced by the blue and white tarp shelters that now blanket so much of Port-au-Prince’s landscape.

More than 14,000 Haitians live in the spontaneous “settlements” within Bourdon Valley’s four square miles, including both its original residents and those who lost their homes, and almost everything else, in the earthquake. They came here to escape the arid, rubble-strewn streets of the city’s center.

The inclined forests that lend Bourdon Valley its beauty also make it exceedingly dangerous.  May 1 marks the start of Haiti’s rainy season, which threatens to unleash a torrent of mudslides and flash floods on the Valley’s makeshift communities.

The United Nations has determined that 9,000 of Bourdon Valley’s residents are at immediate risk of losing their lives in this area due to dangers posed by the rains.  Getting these people out is a priority.

More than 2,500 of Bourdon Valley’s residents have registered with the UN’s International Office of Migration for relocation, and tomorrow they begin their exodus to Tabarre Issa, a newly built settlement on the outskirts of town managed by Concern Worldwide.

Tabarre Issa is the roots of what could be a lasting community.  Concern has constructed clean water and sanitation systems.  The World Food Program will provide early food distributions, and the International Medical Corps will operate a medical facility.

Concern team have people stand on the border line between two sites to show the distance between each family plot at the new site of Tabarre Issa. Photo: Haiti, Concern Worldwide

Well-lit, gravel paths line Tabarre Issa’s spacious tents, which in 6 to 8 weeks will make way for transitional shelters.  The infrastructure is in place, and the stage is set for a successful relocation.

The challenge now?  Getting people to go.  Many of Bourdon Valley’s residents see the value in Tabarre Issa’s concentrated and coordinated aid and services and flat topography. Yet others remain unconvinced and reluctant to leave the confines of the city.

As you walk through the settlements of the Valley, you see few signs that its residents are preparing to move, although conditions are overcrowded and harsh, with whole families living in small tents.

Men chip away at the earth, building the foundation of a new home.  A woman sells used clothing and sweets from a makeshift storefront, while other women try to cook and feed their children with what little they have.

The seamless harmonies of young women singing hymnals in Creole ring out from a tent, amidst the sound of power drills and pick axes meeting stone.  Signs of the stunning resolve and resilience of Bourdon Valley’s residents are everywhere.

The question is: will that resolve ultimately lead them to Tabarre Issa?  Very soon the answer will begin to reveal itself.