One of the few trees in the camp. Trees of course provide sadly lacking shade from the hot sun.
At this point we had hopped back in the Dodge and driven to the other end of the camp, where we then saw several large tents standing side by side. Curious, we first approached this one above, run by the NGO "Save the Children". Unfortunately this all we ever saw of it, because the official we met refused to let us in or photograph them unless we first traveled to headquarters and obtained permission, which we weren't about to do at this point in time, so we simply walked next door to this big tent, run by Plan:
Plan is an NGO dedicated largely to helping children, particularly in Haiti.
See what I mean? Scores of young children are in here being looked after and taught, and the matron could care less if we wanted to take photos.
Closeup of some beautiful kids.
More of the kids inside the Plan tent, distracted perhaps by us as a teacher carries on in the background with some kind of lesson. It was heart-warming to see all these kids out of the hot sun and looking healthy, decently dressed and carrying on with at least a modicum of learning.
Closeup of the instructor explaining images from her book.
Back outside in the sun, this young girl has figured out one way to beat the heat.
As we drove further into the camp, we began to talk more and more with adults. Here Andre is talking with one woman, who is describing the conditions she faces now. All is not right in the land of milk and honey so to speak. Things are generally materially better than Camp Canaan next door, but Camp Corail has its own unique problems to deal with.
Closeup of her.
More kids hamming it up for us as they follow us around, always curious.
As a reminder that showcase camps often come with a price such as increased surveillance, what looks like a US Army helicopter took off from the periphery of the camp and started circling overhead for several minutes before flying off toward the horizon. UN trucks were also patrolling the perimeter. However, we managed to avoid attracting their undivided attention. We did not want any interference with our own investigation.
After we had parked in a strategically central position in the camp, we soon had attracted a crowd of adults who wanted to express themselves about their situations. Frustration was a common emotion with almost almost all of them, frustration with being stuck out in nowhere with little opportunity to work, frustration with delayed or empty promises. In fact a new work for food and money program was supposed to start this very day, but had been put off.
Andre translates for a man with much to say as Georgianne questions him.
A woman addresses her concerns. Women still have tough times with health issues, taking care of their children and babies, even getting enough food. When asked who was out of food in the crowd, everyone responded affirmatively. Apparently the NGOs had miscalculated how long the alleged three month supply they provided would last, because the camp had only opened month or so earlier and these folks were already in a quandary.
A young woman with baby listens on.
This tall, strong-looking man explained vigorously how he had multiple skills as a painter, carpenter, artist and many other talents, but could find no work through camp officials. So how, he asked, if he can find nothing with all his abilities, will those with fewer skills find work? This is the Catch 22 of aid that only keeps one on a level of childlike dependency on handouts from NGOs and the government. At some point, men and women have to become producers and achievers again to sustain their integrity and satisfy their souls. Things have got to evolve. Haitians have to get back on their feet collectively and begin to build the new Haiti that so many of them deeply desire.
At this point we had hopped back in the Dodge and driven to the other end of the camp, where we then saw several large tents standing side by side. Curious, we first approached this one above, run by the NGO "Save the Children". Unfortunately this all we ever saw of it, because the official we met refused to let us in or photograph them unless we first traveled to headquarters and obtained permission, which we weren't about to do at this point in time, so we simply walked next door to this big tent, run by Plan:
Plan is an NGO dedicated largely to helping children, particularly in Haiti.
See what I mean? Scores of young children are in here being looked after and taught, and the matron could care less if we wanted to take photos.
Closeup of some beautiful kids.
More of the kids inside the Plan tent, distracted perhaps by us as a teacher carries on in the background with some kind of lesson. It was heart-warming to see all these kids out of the hot sun and looking healthy, decently dressed and carrying on with at least a modicum of learning.
Closeup of the instructor explaining images from her book.
Back outside in the sun, this young girl has figured out one way to beat the heat.
As we drove further into the camp, we began to talk more and more with adults. Here Andre is talking with one woman, who is describing the conditions she faces now. All is not right in the land of milk and honey so to speak. Things are generally materially better than Camp Canaan next door, but Camp Corail has its own unique problems to deal with.
Closeup of her.
More kids hamming it up for us as they follow us around, always curious.
As a reminder that showcase camps often come with a price such as increased surveillance, what looks like a US Army helicopter took off from the periphery of the camp and started circling overhead for several minutes before flying off toward the horizon. UN trucks were also patrolling the perimeter. However, we managed to avoid attracting their undivided attention. We did not want any interference with our own investigation.
After we had parked in a strategically central position in the camp, we soon had attracted a crowd of adults who wanted to express themselves about their situations. Frustration was a common emotion with almost almost all of them, frustration with being stuck out in nowhere with little opportunity to work, frustration with delayed or empty promises. In fact a new work for food and money program was supposed to start this very day, but had been put off.
Andre translates for a man with much to say as Georgianne questions him.
A woman addresses her concerns. Women still have tough times with health issues, taking care of their children and babies, even getting enough food. When asked who was out of food in the crowd, everyone responded affirmatively. Apparently the NGOs had miscalculated how long the alleged three month supply they provided would last, because the camp had only opened month or so earlier and these folks were already in a quandary.
A young woman with baby listens on.
This tall, strong-looking man explained vigorously how he had multiple skills as a painter, carpenter, artist and many other talents, but could find no work through camp officials. So how, he asked, if he can find nothing with all his abilities, will those with fewer skills find work? This is the Catch 22 of aid that only keeps one on a level of childlike dependency on handouts from NGOs and the government. At some point, men and women have to become producers and achievers again to sustain their integrity and satisfy their souls. Things have got to evolve. Haitians have to get back on their feet collectively and begin to build the new Haiti that so many of them deeply desire.
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