Konbit Pou Ayiti

The flooding is happening again tonight. It is only 6:25pm, but it has been dark here along the coast near Jacmel, Haiti since 4pm. It started raining heavily in the early afternoon, in time for the kids to go out and run around in it for a half an hour. Before it began, the thunder rolled across the sky, bouncing off the mountains.

We live in the shadow of the mountain here in Cyvadier, but then everyone in this country is either on the mountain or below it. There is so little flat land, and much of it is coastal floodplain. Without trees on the hills to slow it down, the rain gathers in ravines and rushes down the mountain to flood the homes and roads below. I am sitting in one of the very few houses in this region with electricity (thanks to our landlord’s generator), watching lightning flicker on the face of the mountain, running to check the baby each time the thunder crashes.

And it crashes!

Yesterday KONPAY staff Joe Duplan and Guypson Catalis drove to Port-au-Prince to claw their way through the iron market downtown with the goal of buying back-to-school materials to distribute throughout the storm-ravaged Jacmel region. (That's cornmeal being distributed last week at left.) Buying cases in the capital and taking care of the transport in a KONPAY 4x4 saved a lot of money, although gas prices are still painfully high. This morning the distribution began with the Youth for the Development of Cyvadier (JDS) and then continued in Oban, Cayes-Jacmel and Kabik to the east. The crew was in Kabik when the rain started this afternoon, and about an hour ago they called to say they were stranded by floodwaters in Cayes-Jacmel. After crossing the river on foot, they had me send money for a taxi so they could get back to the village.

During the last month and a half, Haiti has withstood a tremendous amount of rainfall. I can’t say Haiti has completely survived it because so many Haitians have lost their lives, and their survivors have lost homes, fields and possessions. But Haiti has withstood this string of tragedy just as it withstands so many tragic realities: without losing hope. I was trying to finish up a blog entry a few days ago, something I started the morning after the last hard rain passed through here four days ago. It went like this:

Yesterday Haiti received several hours of heavy, unwanted rain. A tropical depression formed over the island of Hispaniola and the rain started midday. Since the four major storms, there has been rain here in the Jacmel area almost every afternoon. The country is already saturated. Most floodwaters have not receded, and in the southeast the rushing water pouring down the mountainsides has not ceased for more than a month.

Right now the region is suffering from complete blackout, so in the mornings I travel less than a mile to the Hotel Cyvadier to use their internet to communicate with the world and check the tropical storm predictions. This morning we crossed a small mudslide and a road that is now a river. At the beach a waterfall is cascading down next to the stairs. It is picturesque, yes, but all the suffering it represents is the bitter reality.

Our D.C.-based friends have put the word in that Jacmel needs more urgent food assistance to stave off a major famine, and the response to our appeals has been awesome. But here in Cyvadier it is still hard to keep from feeling overwhelmed – by the hungry faces all around, the fields filled with floodwater, the houses without roofs and walls, and the markets without produce. Rain last night means suffering this morning, and more is predicted for today.

Today I know how that story ended, and it’s the same way the story of today’s floods, mudslides and rain will end. With people getting up in the morning, just like every morning - without a choice. With children going hungry all day, but still finding a moment to kick around a soccer ball under the tree in the field across from my house. With women laying out the clothes to dry in the too hot Caribbean sun, and men heading out on their fishing boats. Everyone one of them kicking the mud off their feet and hoping for something better tomorrow.

Tomorrow Joe and Guypson will navigate new hazards from tonight’s rain on the road to Port-au-Prince where they will purchase exactly two hundred and two mosquito nets for beds. Two hundred needy families, and yours truly, will benefit from these wonderful inventions that prevent mosquitoes from feeding on you at night and passing on diseases like malaria. The island is absolutely saturated, and I have never suffered mosquitoes like this – except maybe in my brother’s swampy yard in Massachusetts!

The mosquito nets and school supply distributions are part of KONPAY’s ongoing Emergency Hurricane Relief. We still need help to meet the urgent need, so consider giving a donation today if you can. Check out the letter of thanks we received from the people of Oban for an emergency food distribution you helped make possible. And keep kicking the mud off your feet, hoping for something better tomorrow.