Haiti Earthquake

ON THE LONG flight back to Los Angeles I had a lot of time to think about the eight days I spent in Haiti. I learnt a lot about a country I knew very little about before the earthquake, and I feel an urge to return in the not too distant future. I’ve always considered myself to be fairly hardened emotionally – but nothing has opened my eyes like this trip. I met a four-year-old girl in a refugee camp that’d lost both parents in the earthquake and she simply would not let go of my hand. I honestly didn’t know how to react or what to do. You can’t just detach yourself and pry your hand away but at the same time you’re powerless to really do anything. It felt like a real kick in the stomach.
In the desperately deprived area of downtown Port-au-Prince, fires were breaking out everywhere as scavengers, looters and police played out a running battle in what looked like a real war zone. One lady stood crying in front of the smoldering remains of what used to be her small store. She told me that the earthquake had taken almost everything she had, and the fires took the rest. I was speechless. I had to just walk away.