My final post

My home for a month....the tiny road to the left of my organization's sign led to the guesthouse I was staying in.


The Jacmel airport, where I spent most of my time for the first two weeks.


Peter Mackay's visit. Next to him is Major Spirrow, possibly the gentlest man I have ever met. Hard to imagine he is a Major in the military.


This is the entire tarmac. Tiny airport!


The Canadian military Hercules transport plane. It was a beast! The military packed up all their equipment in this plane the day they left. It was a sad day for everyone - not only did all their hustle and bustle in the airport disappear, but without their equipment and security, the airport had to return to being a domestic airport. This basically meant that no more humanitarian aid would be flying into Jacmel.


Two of my coworkers at the airport. Their jobs ended the day after this picture was taken and it is unlikely they were going to be able to find new jobs. Still, their parting words to me were that they would pray for me in life.


Jacmel - view from the hotel.


Jacmel - view on the streets.








One of the three gas stations in Jacmel - utterly destroyed. There is a danger of fuel shortage in Jacmel. Everyone is being told now to stock up for the rainy season, since once roads are closed off with mudslides, cities will be completely cut off from one another.






A cute little road with a nice view at the end.


Just to the left of the road with the nice view....a Displaced Persons Camp. This is one of the better camps, but people here will be uprooted once again. They are currently on a school's ground, but with schools reopening, these families will have to be moved.


A hospital's ambulance. Not very useful.


Charlotte, the 70-year-old lady who saved her 5-year-old adopted son's life during the earthquake, is sitting in the makeshift tent of a hospital. Conditions here, as in every hospital and clinic, are bleak.


Patients are squished side by side on mattresses or stretchers under tents that are unbelievably hot. Post-surgery patients, amputees, mothers that just gave birth....all of them could be found in tents.


The doctor managing this particular hospital lost it one day and decided to fire all medical teams volunteering here. He locked up the donated meds (resulting in a 15-year-old girl's unnecessary death) and there was some concern he was selling donated supplies on the black market for private profit. Worse, these patients would no longer be able to get medical help here.


The day of the flashlight distribution at Pinchinat, the largest Displaced Persons Camp in Jacmel.


Pinchinat.


A soldier from the Venezuelan army trying to convince us not to distribute to one side of the camp. I was furious.


The distribution is one of the hardest things I have done in my life - the heat and the crowds, the sights and the smells...mostly the realization that these people have lost everything in their lives and are now living in horrible conditions.


A little baby girl at the camp.


Painted inside the camp.


Our visit to Pinchinat at night after our singalong. These kids followed us to the gate as we left, chanting our names. Some of them found me the next day and ran up to me, shouting my name.


Port-au-Prince. A lot of irony in this sculpture.


A long line up for food outside a church. The line up extended far beyond the frame of the picture.


Driving through downtown Port-au-Prince.












A church completely destroyed, but the cross is still up on the wall.


Houses built on the hills in PAP. When the earthquake hit, some of these houses cascaded down, destroying houses below them.


The Presidential Palace.


Scrawled across many buildings in both PAP and Jacmel: "A verifier" (to be checked) and "A demolir" (to be demolished).


Tent cities are everywhere in PAP...










I loved their colourful buses. Nice, cheerful sights in an otherwise dismal city.


Back in Jacmel, we heard a lot of music one night near the guesthouse. We stepped out of the gates and into an all-night Vodou ceremony, led by a Vodou priest. The group stopped and did a dance for us.


A representation of one of the Vodou spirits.


A cute visitor in one of our guesthouse bedrooms. I found another frog in my sink the next morning while brushing my teeth....it is definitely disconcerting to see a frog with it's head down your drain when spitting out toothpaste.


A Creole sign. All you French speakers out there, see if you can read what it says!


One of the two working gas stations in Jacmel. There was always a ton of activity here, as you could fill up gas, go to the pharmacy/medical depot inside, visit the bank in the building, or refill some drinking water off the side - busy place! This is about 8:30am, the lineup for gas is already three-deep.


I joined a group for a food distribution at a primary school. The little kids looked so excited to have us visit. Unfortunately, the group I was with had a definite agenda and preached their own faith to these unsuspecting kids in such a manipulative way, that it soured their work for me. I never joined them for a distribution again.


Shirley, one of the coolest ladies ever, is changing the flat tire on the truck while the rest of us stood around helpless. One of the funniest moments of the trip.


My last day in Haiti - we were trying to get to the waterfall to have a picnic, but our poor, overheated, old truck couldn't make it up the mountain. So we took pictures of the scenery while the truck turned around and we headed to the beach instead.


Another volunteer and I, in the back of the truck, headed to the beach.


Hanging out at our little secluded area of the beach. I went to the more crowded area down the strip and ran into a few people that I knew - it was like being in my own hometown.


I fell in love with Jacmel and felt like I was leaving my home behind when I left the following morning. I know I will go back one day.