Hands On in Haiti: Defying Disaster and Questioning Humanitarianism
by Michelle Chen
-USA-
It's been weeks since I left Haiti, but the fractured images of the ruined city replay themselves like a battered flipbook.
Speeding through the streets of Leogane, near Port-au-Prince, on a sputtering moto-taxi, you see two-story houses with pointed roofs that look frozen over from colonial times. They are flanked by crumbling edifices, or half-buildings with collapsed top floors. In this cosmic landscape of rubble, rolling in endless peaks and valleys, barefoot children scramble around sidewalk markets. Women hawk popcorn or mangos, their faces staid and of indeterminate age. The constant presence of people—buying and selling, or idling in the heat—makes the landscape seem not so different from a poor seaside neighborhood anywhere else in the world. The low buildings are painted in dull, happy pastels. Pockets of decay peek out from panes of Caribbean color, warding off everyone except stray dogs and a cabal of pasty Americans and Europeans. They pull up in a tap-tap (a hired truck), leap out the back, and march in with sledgehammers, wheelbarrows and shovels, ready to finish the job the earthquake left only half done.