Where I’m from, sleeping under the stars elicits feelings of happiness and poetic romance. It reminds of me of countless summers camping in the wilderness with my family, and experiencing a unique sense of freedom. Here in Haïti, however, sleeping under the stars means the opposite these days: sadness, desperation, fear, and a feeling of deep loss is entrenched in people’s faces wherever you go, and sleeping outside is not a choice but the only option for many.
Suze Chery, a mother of three and grandmother of four, lost everything she owned when her house collapsed on January 12th. All she has left are the clothes she wore when the quake struck. The house that had been her family’s home since 2001 is now nothing but rubble.
“What makes you smile?” I ask carefully. A long pause follows my question. And then she slowly shakes her head. “I don’t believe in that, I don’t believe in that,” she responds. “But the most important thing is that I’m alive,” she says. And starting today, her life will become a little easier now that she has a tent and other important supplies for her family. She might not have her house back, but at least she will be protected from the rain that has started to fall now that we’re nearing the wet season.
Geralda Octave, mother of two and seven months pregnant with her third, has also been spending the nights outside – dans la savanne – with her family. She and her husband had nearly completed their house when the earthquake struck. “My life has completely changed,” she says and gazes into the distance. “I was a teacher before, but the school is destroyed now. I feel sad.” And like many women who are about to give life, she worries about the Haïti her child – a boy she thinks – will grow up in.
But at least, she too, won’t have to spend another night outside. The tent she received today is big enough for five, and it will resist the rain. She also received two mattresses and a hygiene kit that will last her for a couple of weeks.
After the CARE team and the local volunteers have finished distributing 775 tents, mattresses, hygiene kits and 1550 jerry cans to the families that had been lining up, we ask Suze if there was anything she wished for her country and her people. “I really hope that the people of Haïti will take this opportunity to reconcile, and that this time it’s open and real. We have to work together. And then we’ll see.”
