Camp Pinchinat

(Beware. This is a long one.)

Soon after I got to Jacmel, I heard that the Canadian military had a donation of 1000flashlights for us to distribute. As logistics rep, I was to be a principal member in the distribution. Now this was something I could be excited about!

Camp Pinchinat is the biggest Displaced Persons Camp in Jacmel, housing over 1000 families. They all live in tents crowded together in a soccer stadium and with no electricity, there were daily fire alarms as people used candles to see at night. With no lights and no nightly security patrol, there was also a security issue at night (especially for women). So it was imperative we get them these flashlights as soon as possible. Jo and I went over to Pinchinat to speak to the camp manager to make sure a) she was aware that we were coming and that b) there was really a need there. She told us that there were actual fires there, every night, sometimes 2 or 3 a night. Well it was decided, to Pinchinat we were to go. Only two problems stood in our way: 1) I got weirdly sick the day before we were supposed to do the distribution and 2) it turns out Pinchinat is a pretty dangerous place to do any kind of distribution - the camp is a hot bed of political strife.

We had projected our distribution date to be two days after our talk with Charlotte, but it kept getting delayed for one reason or another. Thank goodness it did. Michaelle Jean was to arrive in Jacmel, her birthplace, on Tuesday, March 9th (I think). The day before, I was attending a logistics cluster meeting with the UN where we were getting briefed on several things, including any security issues in Jacmel. It turns out that that morning, Charlotte tried to hoist both the American and Canadian flags in the camp. Apparently, the Venezuelans (ie. the Venezuelan army) posted at the camp were not happy with this. The story gets a little murky at this point, but we heard that Charlotte by mistake hoisted the US flag upside down, it was taken down and instead of being put right side up, they (don't know who) folded it up and put it away. Charlotte was not happy, the Venezuelans were not happy, and now the residents were in an uproar. Charlotte was hauled off to the police station in tears.

I was wondering how this would impact our distribution so I asked the UN members how to go about it and they advised me to go to the camp and make a list of the all the families there, and then the following day to go in with "basic armed escorts" and do the distribution. "Oh and beware. There will be a riot. There is always a riot when we do a distribution there". Hmmmmm.

The next day, Michaelle Jean did indeed make her appearance. She landed at the Jacmel airport (though I just missed her since I was stuck at the gate getting frisked VERY intimately, and also discussing an accusation someone had made against our driver). Jo and I wanted to go to Pinchinat that morning to start checking out how we were going to do this, but M. Jean was there so we weren't allowed to go. By the time we got to Pinchinat in the afternoon, there was a definite riotous feel going on, spilling out onto the streets, enough to make us want to beat it out of there. The rest of the day we kept hearing rumours about how bad it was getting (guns in the street, etc), so I finally ended up talking to one of the Canadian soldiers about what was going on. It turns out he was very well acquainted with the situation and was finally able to explain it to me.

Apparently, after the earthquake struck, Charlotte took charge of Pinchinat and got everyone set up in tents there. In the days thereafter, the mayor, as he was right to do, sent in a committee to oversee the camp. The committe, however, sidelined Charlotte and she, a well-known activist, was none too pleased. The camp then became divided, literally in half. As you walk in the gates, there is one long "road" stretching ahead. On the right of this road are the Venezuelans, installed there by the committee. On the left is Charlotte. 539 families on the right. 642 on the left. Accusations flying back and forth in the middle.

Eventually, we ended up helicoptering in a Canadian military negotiator from PAP to Jacmel to sit with the the leader of the right side (Maxido), Charlotte and myself, so that we could hammer out a security plan for our distribution. Without this plan, my friend in the military was very reluctant for me and Jo to go in. With a lot of negotiating and head nodding and table banging, we finally came up with the following plan: Jo and I were to drive in with our truck packed with the 20 boxes at 9am on Friday. We would bring with us two men to help us carry boxes and our driver who would guard the truck. We would park the car in the main road, where a security perimeter made up of 10 policemen and 4 security guards from each side of the camp would secure the truck. We would distribute a box to Charlotte's side of the camp and then a box to Maxido's. Back and forth, back and forth so that each side would be assured of it's equal share. Jo and I would be accompanied by 1-2 policemen. It sounded like a good plan, excepting the fact that all this was necessary was a touch unsettling. But never mind, I was ready to do this!

Everyone had two days to prepare. The night after all these negotiations, we were set to go out for a colleague's birthday. Just as we were leaving, I noticed a giant swelling on my lip. Wanting to look normal on my first night out, I took some antihistamines and then went to party at the Zap Zap Disco (that's right!). I am not going to lie. I had rum there. Strong rum. I came home to find my body not very pleased with what I had ingested. I got sick and went to bed. And woke up sick. I stayed sick all day while everyone went to work. The guesthouse cook even had to rush to my side at one point (I will tell you her story soon). I had a rash on my arms and legs, my hands were completely swollen and I had a fever. I was terrified I was going to miss the distribution, and if I wasn't well enough, they probably would have postponed it. I spent all day in bed willing myself to get better.

Friday morning I bounced out of bed, well enough to go. We rushed to the airport, and loaded up the truck with the boxes and sped off to find our security detail in place. It wasn't. The police didn't even seem aware of our plans. A Venezuelan soldier tried to convince us to not distribute to Charlotte's side. Charlotte and Maxido were nowhere to be seen. As soon as people saw we had a truckload of stuff, we were surrounded. This was not a good beginning.

We listened quietly to the Venezuelan's argument then politely thanked him and told him we would go ahead with our plans. We asked the police to get in place around our truck. We found a rep for Maxido and eventually Charlotte, in cowboy hat and long flowing dress, joined us. We ripped open our first box and started. And kept going. never ending. For four and a half hours, we marched back and forth through tents and to each side, handing out one flashlight to one family representative that had to be in their tent to get it. It was hard, gruelling work. It was a hot humid day with no shelter or shade. The soccer stadium ground was just dried mud layered over with rocks, and for some reason, kind of hilly at one end. There was constantly a mob of about 20 people surrounding us and following us (and occasionally grabbing at us). Trying to weave our way through all this was really not easy, especially as we were dodging people's laundry on lines, weaving through dirt, garbage, people cooking, people just sitting and watching. We sometimes had to look into the tents to determine if they really needed a flashlight (because we didn't quite have enough for every family) and the sights inside the tents were bleak. These are strong but small tents that were housing 2-3 families. Inside each was a sheet on the ground and 2 mattresses, if they were lucky. That's it. The tents were completely dark inside so there is nothing to do there. So people come sit outside where it is hot and sticky and still nothing to do. It's not as though they have jobs to go to. These people literally have nothing. It was sobering. More than sobering. It was devastating.

Eventually I started to feel like I was going to pass out - not sure if it was because of my sickness the day before, or the heat, or the sights and the smells, but I started to get really claustrophobic from the people clawing at me (they became more and more desperate as time went on and boxes were dwindling). I kept asking them to step back and told them I would get to them, but they didn't believe me, and for good reason. These people are fighting for any little thing they can get to make their lives easier, since this is their situation for the next long while. Because it was taking so long, Jo and I ended up splitting up and taking a side each. My side was a little more disorganized from the beginning and things were deteriorating fast. I could only give a flashlight when Maxido indicated it was ok, causing people to beg me and then him for pity. They started to get more frenzied and they kept separating me from my guy who was holding the boxes (and then eventually just staying near me to make sure I wouldn't get hurt). I ended up being completely engulfed by a crowd of people and over their heads, Maxido told me I should just leave now because there was going to be some trouble. My guy grabbed my hand to pull me out and we hurried back to the safety of the truck. As soon as Jo got back, we sped off, leaving a mini riot behind us.

I felt terrible. We had 18 flashlights left that we had to stop giving out because of the mob that was forming (we will give those out to another smaller camp soon). We caused a little riot. We couldn't help everybody. I was taking deep gulps of air, trying get rid of my dizzy feeling. My skin around my neck and my arms were completely burnt. I had scratches everywhere on my body. I felt a little nauseated at some of the things I saw and some of the hands that touched me....but I would do it again in a heartbeat.