PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti – Even as darkness fell, sticky heat smothered Port-au-Prince like an electric blanket turned all the way up. As I stepped from the cool sanctuary of the Land Cruiser, my glasses fogged up; so I took them off and slipped them into my shirt pocket.

Nancy and I walked into the camp past young men who were wearing Haitian Boy Scout uniforms and were serving as security guards. Dr. Joseline Marhone came out from under a tarp that was stretched like a flat roof over tables piled high with boxes of bandages and medicines.

I greeted my old friend, and kissed her on both shiny cheeks. The last time I had seen Joseline was in November under much happier circumstances. We were in the shady parking lot of the Montana Hotel, transferring 225,000 doses of anti-parasite medicine into her vehicle. She used those pills to kick off a nationwide anti-parasite program. That was a happy day under the trees at the Montana.

Now the trees are gone, the Montana is gone, and much of Haiti is only a memory, but my friend remains, still smiling and still strong. Kissing her cheeks, I tasted the salt in her perspiration and felt that I was in the presence of a hero.

Joseline invited us to sit with her in the cubbyhole behind the piles of supplies. I asked her to tell me about the quake and what had happened since. For the next hour, she told the stories—about how, in an instant of thunderous horror, her house crashed down around her; how she urged her terrified grandson to squirm through a narrow tunnel out of the rubble, and then waited for her own rescue more concerned with where her grandson was than with her own fate.

She pointed to the skirt she was wearing and said it was all that she was able to salvage from her earthly belongings. Then she told us about the camps, and how they are getting worse instead of better, and how she regularly serves 200 patients a day at her makeshift clinic.

The saddest story was about what women and young girls are experiencing in the camps. Far worse than hunger, thirst and disease is the sexual abuse. Hundreds of women and young girls have been attacked since the quake.

Joseline then showed us around the camp and asked me to take a water sample and test it for contaminants. She said that the last two times she drank camp water she got diarrhea. I filled a bottle and promised to return.

I asked Nancy to take a photo of Joseline and me. I wanted one to go with the happy photo from what seems like so long ago.

As long as I am breathing I will work with every fiber of my being to help Joseline and Nancy help the Haitian people.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 6th, 2010 at 10:48 am and is filed under Bill Horan, Caribbean, Clean water projects, Disaster Relief, Earthquake, Haiti. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.