W
e walked out of the airport to be met with an onslaught of Haitians, each trying to solicit their services to us. The look of desperation was unmistakable on each of their faces. They were literally fighting with each other over who was going to carry our bags to the car and we didn't even need help. There are no jobs in Portau-Prince so they gather at the airport hoping to make a little money off of the "missionaries" leaving the airport; there are no tourists. It is very overwhelming when your first impression of a country is complete chaos and sadness. We boarded our waiting tap-tap, which is a little beat-up pickup truck with steel railings and wood bench seats in the bed, and headed to our hotel. The only way to describe the majority of Port-auPrince is with the word crumbling. There are over 10,000 street children, no electricity, dust, humidity, exhaust, and a huge feeling of political unrest, which is well demonstrated by graffiti along many of the street's walls. In passing a group of street kids, they spotted that we were white and raced to jump onto the back of our tap-tap, hoping to get a handout. I wish we could help every single one of them but we knew that if we started handing
out money we would be sw ar med and could quite possibly insight rock throwing. I couldn't help myself and gave one of the boys a packet of about 30 hand wipes (anything but money), while we were stopped at one of the few traffic lights in Port -au-Prince. The light turned green just in time before he told his friends to run after us because we were handing out stuff. The rest of our team yelled at me. After we dropped our stuff off at the hotel, we went to Cité Soleil to see the building we would be working out of for the next three days. I described Port-au-Prince as crumbling so the only way I can describe Cité Soleil is worse than Hell, worse than Hell because at least in Hell you are not starving. Pulling up to this slum, the first of your senses to be effected is sight, followed closely by smell, mixed with a little fear of the unknown. A rancid smell penetrating from their water supply almost knocks you off your feet. Gullies filled with trash and sewage are being used to bathe, swim, and wash clothes in. IT IS ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE. I wish I could transport you there through my words so you could feel the utter (Continued on page 4)
Corinne with six month old baby only weighing 6lbs.
Trash build-up, there is one of these approx. every 50ft.
W
hat would you do if you woke up and went outside to get the morning paper and saw children walking around naked, homeless, extended bellies from malnutrition, begging for their next meal? You might think you are still dreaming or maybe in Hell. Unfortunately, this is the truth and the reality of the people living in Cité Soleil, Haiti. Cité Soleil is the worst slum in the Western Hemisphere. This is a place where children only have a 50% chance of reaching the age of 4. This is a place where children drink from the same water they play and urinate in. This place could be the starting point of Hell on earth. I would say that the desperate children of Cité Soleil all hold a special piece of heaven in their hearts. It's something you can only explain by visiting these forgotten souls. While in the village, I ran across reality at its finest. It was a newborn; well at least I thought it was a newborn until the mother told me that the baby was 6 months old. It was devastating; the child only weighed 6 pounds. I weighed two more pounds when I was born than what this baby weighed at 6 months. The child's arm was about the size of my index finger and the baby had bumps and lesions that broke out all over her body. Malnutrition caused the baby to have no hair and still be the same size as an infant. We gave the child some nutrition drops and then tried to develop a game plan to get this child some help. The mother let Corinne hold the child for a little while. Corinne held the child to show it the Call (954) most love she could possibly show this beautiful
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Picture of Cité Soleil
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WORLD NEWS
(Continued from page 1)
pain of these people’s living conditions. The babies run around naked, with their bellies full of worms. The women's beautiful skin is tainted with an unstoppable rash because of the water they wash in. The scene was devastating, but the children always smiled. They had an amazing energy and just wanted to hold my hand as I walked through their dwellings. I take some words from Gandhi by not calling them homes, but dwellings. They have never seen a different life so why would they be sad about the life they are living? Every city has a slum and every slum has poor people but Cité Soleil, the slum of Port-au-Prince Haiti, is the home of the worst possible living
conditions imaginable. The Catholic Church has deemed Cité Soleil as the worst slum in the world. We knew going in to the situation that our medical supplies and food distribution would not change how they live, but it did change a couple of lives and make us much smarter. An average American "visiting" Cite’ Soleil would say that this place has no hope, it can never be fixed, but I beg to differ. The children are filled with hope. For me, I knew I had accomplished my trip goals when I made the children smile. They would gather around me just wanting to be held, smiled at, or just touched. Corinne Coffey ccoffey@naaiacharity.us
Tin-roofs
Our team accompanied by kids from Haiti
A
s my flight left Haiti and we were in the clouds, I realized that the sight I was looking at was no different than anywhere else in the world. There are mounds of white in all shapes, looking like they were constructed of snow. Looking out into the distance it looks like something growing up out of the clouds, just as it did when
I flew out of Alaska...the difference being that in Alaska it really was snow capped Mt. Everest poking it’s tip up through the cloud layer. Below the clouds was a completely different story. A story that words can’t properly describe or explain for that matter. Today is Monday and Sean and I with Paulette arrived in Haiti
yesterday about 7AM. We were met by Corinne and Aaron (of our NAAIA group) at the airport. They had flown over on Thursday with a large supply of medicine, to meet up with doctors so they could help the children there. These two kids have so much love in their hearts and enthusiasm in their actions. What a wonderful thing they were doing. Sean was actually supposed to leave with them, but the word from our own US State Dept. was, “Don’t go into Cité Soleil! If anything happens, we can’t/won’t come in to get you.” You know the country is in a state of political unrest and cities are supposedly ruled by gangs, of kids yet. Actually, there was a major problem just before we made our trip. But our kids had their minds made up, nothing was going to stop them from helping these children of Haiti. They had researched, planned, proposed the plan...this baby was theirs and nothing was going to stop them. The plight of the
people of Haiti touched Sean's heart and he too was going to help, but he had another consideration which was vitally important. Sean is not one to write a “made up” story, he needed to see and know for himself...but was it worth putting his life in jeopardy? Any sane person would answer NO to that question. And he knew he had responsibilities to his family and to this charity. According to the State Department one of the hazards in Haiti for people of Sean's social status was to be kidnapped and held for ransom. This has happened to some people who are frequently in the news, as Sean is. In Haiti, there are really no safeguards where the law is concerned and should anything happen what recourse would he have? A story is one thing, but he truly wanted to see for himself the living conditions of these people and more importantly, these children. The stories and information supplied by Corinne and Aaron would make your skin crawl. (Continued on page 5)
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Special Edition
HOMELESS VOICE Water in which kids bathe, drink, and play (Continued from page 4)
As much as I wanted to go, I was content with whatever Sean decided because for some reason, I have always trusted him...his decisions and his actions. The kids left with all their supplies and we stayed behind trying to reason, plan and consider any and all scenarios of “what if”. I have always lived by the thought...if you are doing good, God will watch over you, but as I was reminded, missionaries wind up dead as well as nuns and priests have been slaughtered. So again, Kevin changed reservations. We had already started taking our malaria pills so at least our health would be protected, (only to find out that there was an outbreak of Typhoid) but still, now we would be on our way. So after all the rigmarole of getting out of our country, we were there...the plane had landed. I didn’t get to sleep the night before and as “dizzy” as I was anyway, we got off the plane and had walked for a minute or two before I realized where we were and that we had come down stairs and were walking across the tarmac. Once we got through security etc, our driver was right there waiting for us at the curb with Corinne and Aaron. Enter another world
Were we expecting a car or similar vehicle? Yes? Was it? No. It was a pickup truck with a fiberglass top and we sat on wooden benches along the two sides which were bolted to the bed. Those of us closest to the cab could help balance ourselves...feet against the spare tire and our hands and arms holding on for dear life on the sides of this rig. This was in Port-au-Prince and as we drove along it looked like some poor slummy area that we see in movies. What we would see later would be called nothing less than a nightmare. We had read up on the country before hand so we were prepared for the driving habits. There is no direction for traffic, there are no lights or signs nor speed limits posted...only the “toot toot” of the horn when you are passing or about to and the rule of thumb seems to be: the largest one goes first. At one intersection there were actually 9 cars ( or vehicles I should say) all merging onto the same road. There aren’t lanes either and during the whole trip I think there were two roads that were “paved” and that was only that they had been graded. We had been told not to give any handouts, money or anything else because it
would bring everyone in the vicinity around us and crowds were not something that we wanted to cause. As we drove, we asked what city we were in, and as I said, it was Port-au-Prince. There was hardly a building intact. So many were empty and half built up or half fallen down...the latter easy enough to spot because the rubble was still there in a heap at the base. The rest were put together with whatever it took to make a wall...wood, tin, car door, what have you. Windows were paneless, graffiti and filth everywhere and street vendors had their ware either hanging on “clotheslines” or heaped in piles and those who sold food were cooking it in the street. At least they were working at some sort of a living though, as meager as it would be. So as we bounced up and down the hills, avoiding potholes big enough to swim in, we finally reached our hotel and within 5 minutes were on our way to church. The service was entirely in Creole and lasted three and a half hours. I had gone to Mass in a church in Spain onetime and thoughts of there drifted though my head, but here it was just the opposite. In Spain there was
a beautiful old church and from inside we could hear the jackhammers of construction outside and the voices of song filtering in over the noise. This church we were in now was open. Folding chairs to sit on. The roof was sheets of tin. And the voices of song and praise, (though we knew not a word, you could feel the reverence) were inside with us. Surprisingly, our Haitian church goers were clean and nicely dressed. This left me more unprepared for what I would see in the next fifteen minutes, the surrounding getting more horrid as we drove. We pulled up to a concrete building to unload the supplies we had and proceeded to walk into the town going along the paths between structures hardly a car’s width wide stepping over puddles of putrid water. The adults, young and old, and the children all in tattered clothes and some half naked, all returned our smiles. Big lifeless brown eyes and wide white smiles. I commented to Sean sometime later, did he notice how all the children had beautiful white teeth. He returned with, “Of course...they don’t have anything to eat to p r o mo t e c a v i t ie s . ”
School and Church
(Continued on page 7)
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Poverty Press
Page 6
WORLD NEWS
O
ur International Teams went to Haiti at the end of July. At first, I was advised by the US State Department that we should not go because the Haitian government is in a state of unrest and because of the number of American kidnappings by Haitians in certain towns. These warnings led me to stay behind to investigate and plan my trip better but the warnings didn't stop our teams from leaving on time. I was facing the dilemma of whether I should or should not go because of my responsibilities to our homeless here in South Florida. But once I got a driver over in Haiti, one who was recommended by an official, I felt more secure with a well organized safety plan. I decided it would be safe for Lois and I to leave. There is heavy terrain in Haiti and you need a driver who has the experience of knowing which roads to take in which towns. But let me tell you, the terrain is nothing compared to the teens in certain towns, ranging from groups of 40 or so, who are armed with AK-47's. They apparently carjack and in most cases kill or hold Americans for ransom. Along with finding out about the group of well-armed teens we were also advised, by our own Embassy, that they would not take responsibility to rescue us from any trouble if we went into a town called Cite’ Soleil. They basically said if an American goes to Cité Soleil, they are on their own because the town is controlled by several governments which are against each other because of conflict among its own residents. Knowing all these hazards, we still took a shot at it and snuck into town. At least that‘s what we thought until we found we had the only vehicle roaming the streets of Cité Soleil. We were not worried about the poor people harming us but rather the gangs of thugs running the ghetto, was our main concern. This town is the worst I have ever seen in all the world. Let me start off by telling you about the services they offer. Well, there are NONE! The water they use comes from a river that is full of garbage and raw sewage. Why? Because none of the homes have toilets. The kids play and take baths and clothes are washed in this river of sewer water. Our team of volunteers was accompanied by Doctor Chuck Presti and his nurse. Keep in mind that our volunteers are certified as First Responders and can offer emergency medical help if needed. In our initial First Responder class we were taught that in the event of a natural disaster you color code victims with tags. Victims that maybe had a little of an injury receive one color tag and ones who need immediate medical help get another color tag and finally the ones who are going to die no matter As you can tell, Sean what help and Lois were you give them get andisturbed other color tag. This process is called triage. Guess what? Trying to apply the triage process does not work in Haiti because all
Sean and Lois standing in front of a river of sewage in which kids play and bathe
the kids in the town, several thousand of them, all require widespread immediate medical help. The problem is not so much the emergency medicine...it's starvation, worms, rashes, AIDS and anything else so bad if it's not treated with antibiotics within a few days, it results in death. Now let's talk about water or should I say the lack of it. The only clean water that they get is brought in from a church across the country somewhere. Not one single child has a temperature under 99.8 degrees, which by the way comes from dehydration and the infections they all so commonly have. And in most of the cases the kids had temps over 101 from severe infections. Before we left Florida we purchased large amounts of worm medicine and antibiotics. MAP International sold the medicine to us at what they call a handling fee for mission work. The medication was valued at over 15,000.00 (our costs were obviously much lower) but once we got there we realized the amount of medicine we brought would not even make a dent in what the people need. We also found out that no hospital in any town will admit a kid without money. You can’t imagine how we felt when we found out that the meds we brought would only take care of the problem for a week or two because that's the time it would take for them to become re-infected with the same diseases again. Why? Because at this point there is no chance in the world no matter how much medicine is brought in by us or any other institution that it will stop the diseases. The situation is hopeless! You must be wondering how could that be? First of all there is not an ounce of electric in the town, no sewers, and no clean water. Absolutely nothing that will keep them safe in the future. Most of the kids and parents do not know anything of AIDS and in all of the cases no one knew what a condom was. You ask how can this be? Well, how would they find out if there's no educational materials and very little knowledge if any coming from any other source. It's not like they're sitting at home watching TV and learning about these things. That’s if the places they live can even be called homes! Let me explain what their homes look like, that is if they are fortunate enough to have a place they can call home. In the next few weeks, as well as this issue, you will be shown Haiti, I am sorry I have to show it to you this way. If a person or family is privileged to have a home it consists of one or two walls. But let me elaborate on the walls and what they are made of. Picture this... old washing machines, car doors and radiators, as well as planks of wood. (Continued on page 9)
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Special Edition
HOMELESS VOICE
(Continued from page 5)
Really, that’s true, but I would think being so malnourished, their teeth wouldn't be so good. We came to the school where men, women and children had gathered with their numbers to be seen by the doctors and to be treated however possible. Each day 100 numbered tickets were given out to be filled in with their name, their vitals, their diagnosis and any referral information. I was told that they were all dressed in their Sunday finest, that usually they are as I described the ones we saw on the way in. All the children had worms and all were running a low grade temperature. Again, this building was open. There were I think four or five rooms on the long sides of the building and the last one on one side was barricaded with a sheet of tin and set at an angle so the children could get through the opening. This was the bathroom. 3 stalls with a hole in the floor and the ground below receiving the feces and urine. Nobody had a bathroom in this town....Cité Soleil.…sun city.” They had no electricity. They had no clean water to drink (only that which is carted in from far away.) I could go on and on, but I wonder how much of an impression it would make on most Americans. You know, even in our “4 star” hotel where we stayed, they only had electricity part of the day. We had lights, yes...from the generator. What we didn’t know, until I asked if there was a trick to getting our wall air conditioner to work, was that they too...in Port au Prince...had to wait until the city gave them some electricity. Earlier, our driver had proudly shown us around his home. (Taking someone to your roof top must compare with our showing someone some special part of our home here.) As we walked around his roof, we walked over yards and yards of what looked like speaker wires. When Sean asked about it, we got the explanation of when they got electricity and Serge pointed to “those orange wires” that dangled from roof top to the next. He explained how they “hook up” to the power when it goes on and pointed to here and there the itinerary of wire that went criss crossing in a very large area
around his neighborhood. He had two different colors of wire, exposed from the insulation and joined together in a knot. That was safe though, he said, as he pinched his fingers on it, the lines were dead. This one though, as he picked it up and touched another exposed wire to a rebar, was alive and sparked. And all these we had walked on and were standing on! The first evening there, that was the night of the A/C episode, we called back to the office here. “Kevin please get us a flight out of here tonight or in the morning at the latest...something, anything! This place was heartbreaking. We didn’t need to see any more! (we stayed though) Sean and I wracked our brains trying to think of some way to help the people of this country. The ample supply of medicine that was brought has just about run out and they are only going to get sick all over again.” I told Sean the country needed to be bull dozed flat and started all over again. And even if that were possible, how do you teach the people how to live? There was one little baby girl we met less than a year old who has AIDS. Her mother knew nothing about AIDS, about protecting one’s self. And sadly, neither did the pastor’s interpreter even know what a condom was. We say there is no hope of helping these people, but there has to be. These poor people can’t do it, they probably don’t even know how bad their lives are. The government doesn’t seem to want to do anything. We, every one of us, in all the countries of this world need to stand up and speak out about the conditions in Haiti and make something happen. It sure won’t work overnight and maybe not even in their lifetime, but it has to happen...it just has to! What We Saw It is like entering the gates of hell. Rusted tin and cardboard hovels squat in fetid fields of garbage mixed with human and animal excrement. Hunger-swollen children scamper feverishly down charcoal-dusted alley ways while solemn adults lean listlessly in doorways. Dust, stench and heat hammer the senses. Winding through the shacks and garbage fields is a small canal 8 feet wide, 2 feet deep, and pitch black. -Haiti Progress 4-10 Dec. 1996
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The entire article can be read at the end of my story. I'm sure there are places in the United states that are called the gates of hell, but can never compare...that is, not now. Both here and there, this treachery stems from people not caring. It starts with the lowest on the totem pole of society right up to the president. It is already starting. People who can, d on ’ t v o te . Those who know that wrong is being done don't speak up. Those who have the means (some of them) keep it for themselves. Cities condemn those who try to make a difference instead of working together to solve the problem. There is corruption on all levels of government. We already have classes that have been ostracized...the homeless, the mentally ill, the poor are being shoved further and further away. If you stop and think, honestly, ostracized is exactly the word. Every city, every state, every country in this world has an obligation to care for their own to the very best of their ability and means and if it lacks funds or expertise then it is up to the neighbor next door or across the continent or across the globe to pitch in and help. There is enough food. There is enough money. There is talent in all areas that can be used and shared. When I was a youngster and would go to a babysitting job, I would wash the dishes that might be left dirty or pick up things that the mother maybe didn’t have time to do. Kids do that all the time. Whatever needs to be done at home is a chore, but go to your friends house and the same thing is fun. My aunt used to tell me that charity begins at home, and it does...it should and it shouldn’t stop there. This world contains everything and the people it needs to make a difference...all it needs is love. ******* Haiti Progress, This Week in Haiti, Vol. 14, no. 37, 4-10 December 1996 Cité Soleil Government throws oil on fires of frustration It is like entering the gates of Hell. Rusted tin and cardboard hovels squat in fetid fields of garbage mixed with human and animal excrement. Hunger-swollen children scamper feverishly down charcoaldusted alleyways while solemn adults lean listlessly in doorways. Dust, stench and heat hammer the senses. Winding through the shacks and garbage fields is a small canal 8 feet wide, 2 feet deep, and pitch black. This is Soleil 9, a desperate corner of the giant Cité Soleil slum on the north-western flank of the capital. The toxic black liquid which coats the canal banks and flows sluggishly into the bay of Port-auPrince is carcinogenic waste motor oil, dumped everyday by the Various plant of Electricite d'Haiti (EDH), about one half mile away.
EDH uses the oil to lubricate the giant turbines at Varreux which generates hundreds of kilowatts, going in large part to power the refrigerators and air-conditioners of Haiti's elite in the far-off mountain heights of Petionville, while only a trickle goes to light up a few bare bulbs which dot the dark and smokey slum next door. They never give us any electricity, but every day they send us their oil, quipped one resident. But at 1 a.m. on Nov. 29, Soleil 9 was lit up-- by a giant oil fire when the canal ignited. Another fire had started on the afternoon of Nov. 27 as well. The two blazes destroyed close to 200 shacks, according to local residents. Many of the tiny ramshackle structures house 8 to10 people and rent for 125 gourdes ($8.30US) a month. I lost my home with all my things inside, all my money, explained one distraught woman. All I have left are my 6 children who lived with me in the house and the clothes on my back. Another victim was a young man from the countryside whose family had sent him to Portau-Prince to attend school. I had malaria fever and missed the whole month of October, the student explained. Now I've lost everything. The fire burned my uniforms and my books. I have no money at all and I can't ask my parents to send me money again. But the overwhelming sentiment expressed by residents of Soleil 9 is anger. We have repeatedly called on the Haitian government to help us with this problem, but they ignore us, explained EstinGilles Williams, a member of the Organization Jeunes Bas Soleil 9 (OJBS9), one of the most active popular organizations in the area. If the government had responded in some way, this might not have happened. They live like humans, while we are forced to live like animals. The young men in OJBS9 feel that they have been betrayed by the Lavalas government, because they resisted and fought the military rule of the 3 year coup d'etat. Rather than make false promises, the government should just say it's going to do nothing, said another bitter OJBS9 militant. When we protest, they send in the police and call us the 'Red Army.' Red Army was the spin word which Haitian authorities and the U.S. Embassy and mainstream press coined late last year to characterize popular organizations in Cité Soleil to cast them as dangerous and revolutionary. In fact, there is no Red Army. However, following the U.S. Military intervention in Sept. 1994 under the banner of disarmament, Cité Soleil became even more militarized than it was during the coup. On the one hand, Macoutes
“This world contains everything and the people it needs to make a difference...all it needs is love.”
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Poverty Press
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WORLD NEWS
Aaron finds baby in abandoned building
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little girl. Corinne came to me like ten minutes later and said the mother is nowhere to be found and asked me to hold the child while she looked for the mother. The only thing I could think of was that the mother had abandoned the child so the kid could get help. To be honest, Corinne and I were kind of happy that we could not find the mother. The child needed help and we were ready to give her as much love as possible. I closed my eyes and asked God to not let the mother come back and that I would take responsibility for the dying child. Corinne was already going over in her head things she would need to buy for the baby like baby bottles and formula. As I was holding the child, the mother walked up 3 hours later and took the baby. Corinne and I were happy that the mother was back but also sad that now this baby might not have the same chance at life that Corinne and I could have given her. The nurse that was with me at the time said there was nothing we could do for the child today but she could come back in two days to take the child to a nutrition center to get the baby back to health. I was very concerned that the lady would not come back with her child and I would never see them again. The
Aaron with six month old 6lb baby after we put her in hospital
village has close to 300,000 people so it would very difficult to track them down. I told the lady if she comes back we would make it worth her time. Well, two days later when we opened the clinic again, she showed. That was a very big relief to me. We all loaded up in the truck and started heading towards the nutrition center. On the way to the center, we got the idea in our head to take the child back to the states. We turned the truck around and now were heading to the US embassy in Haiti to see if we could get the child in to the states. They agreed that the child would be allowed back into the states only if we paid for everything. The child could not cost the American taxpayers one penny. American tax dollars went to invading Haiti in 1991 when we placed a brutal dictator back in power that is responsible for the worsening situation in Haiti. When we really think about it, the same reason the child is starving in the first place is because American taxpayer’s money is being used wrong. God forbid! Help the kid with our tax dollars! We made arrangements for the child to fly out the following day. Later that night Corinne
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Dr. Presti and Aaron giving medical attention
and I were heading out to dinner with Doctor Presti. Doctor Presti told us that transporting the child could be fatal. He thought the child would be better off in a private hospital in Haiti for a little while. Let the child build back her health, then see about the child coming back to the states to get additional help. Corinne Aaron & Dr. Presti and I agreed that this would be the best plan of action. We took the mother to our hotel and told her what we are doing. The mother had never been in a hotel room before. She did not know how to turn off the light or turn off the airconditioning. We ordered her some room service and got them prepared to go to the hospital the Corinne and she was all tearyeyed too. next day. The doctor at the time We took the child to a private Catholic hospital in Port- said the child would at least need au-Prince. The doctor saw the 15 days at her clinic to be stable child and immediately gave the enough to travel back to the child some nutritional formula. states. And if she needed more The most breath-taking moment time she would inform us so we of my life was watching this could wire more money. I am child suck down this formula. I happy to say the child is doing wish everyone in the world could much better and is starting to go through an experience like make a tremendous turnaround. this, watching the child eat the This child has one more chance formula like she did. My eyes got at life. -Aaron Jackson all watery and chills ran up my spine. I turned around to look at
“I will not turn anyone away� -Sean Cononie
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HOMELESS VOICE
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I actually saw two or maybe it was three homes that had a complete roof to cover their heads. Cooking is done outside. Now I'm not talking BBQ here, just cooked on the ground and while they cook, flies swarm all over the food. By now you must be asking yourself how we survived the trip. To begin with we sprayed ourselves with a special "perfume" throughout the day. It’s called "OFF." And we had to take Malaria pills starting the day before we left for the trip. By the way, we will be taking them, the Malaria pills, for the next four weeks. The Malaria pills were the first part of the trip I did not understand. Why is it that I can get the pills to be protected from Malaria and they can't? Is it because I'm an American white male who has a little money? It is an atrocity that our industrialized nations find it so unimportant to provide the poor people of Haiti with Malaria pills. I repeat, how do we allow this to happen? I came home completely lost in thought, wondering how I could figure out a way to change their town. My conclusion is, that it would need to be leveled and rebuilt as a completely new town. Keep in mind that the President of Haiti lives in a nice palace with lots of I have seen pictures of starving electricity and all the comchildren, but to hold one in forts of home. How does he your arms is a feeling I cannot live like this himself, knowing that his people are living explain –Sean Cononie such a gruesome existence? As I thought more about the people of Haiti, I also thought about our homeless. The homeless in America are multimillionaires compared to the Haitians. They may live in the streets but their problems are few, trying to figure out what soup kitchen they can go to get their food for the day. There are other problems that our homeless experience such as medical and trying to find a shelter and the lack of mental health medication that would keep
them not homeless if they would have access to it. I am not saying we should not help our people because if we don’t America would be just Sean and Lois with very sick baby like Haiti in on the way to get help the years to come. I'm just saying our homeless are privileged compared to the Haitians. As Americans we must never forget what real poverty means. We can’t harden our hearts because the simple truth is that if we allow ourselves to become uncaring in the future we will create a town called Cite’ Soleil. Every social service agency in Florida, even if you provide no services to the poor, you need to appoint teams of experts to save these people. Yes, all you who belong to social service agencies, all of you who say you want to make a difference, form committees and begin doing what we know we are supposed to do. Help people! As for the charities of South Florida who say they help the Haitians, and maybe they do, I did not see any American charities helping. Yes there were some churches that had missions, and some faith-based hospitals however these agencies just like us become nothing but a band-aid only covering up the problem for a few days. There were other missionaries who were spreading the word of Jesus. Christians, I know it's important to spread the word, love and faith, but keep in mind Christians that we need to do what God commands us to do. This guy who is pretty famous, named Jesus, once said that when we feed one of them, the least of our brethren, we are feeding Him. How simple is that? If every Christian gave $10.00 just once in their life maybe we could bring purified water, sewer systems, and a 6’ x 6’ home with four walls and a roof to the people of Cité Soleil. May God Bless these people of Haiti , and of course bless our homeless here in Florida. I am left with no other words to describe what our team and I saw. -Sean Cononie scononie@homelessvoice.org
days. (Continued from page 7)
and putschist henchmen easily hid arms from the cosmetic confiscation drives of the U.S./U.N. troops. With the weapons, ruthless gangs continued to bring crime and violence throughout Port-au-Prince and in particular to victimize the residents of Cité Soleil. Then, in November 1995, a nation-wide disarmament mobilization took place following the ambush killing of Deputy Jean Hubert Feuille and a fiery speech by then President Jean Bertrand Aristide at the National Cathedral castigating the U.S. and U.N. for not carrying out a real disarmament, or even wanting to. Neighborhood vigilance brigades raided dozens of putschist arms caches. The raiders turned over some of the weapons to the police, but, not trusting entirely the police and occupation troops, kept some weapons for self-defense. (Some youths may also have used their newly acquired weapons for crime, which is the picture Haitian government and occupation forces have sought to emphasize.) In the weeks that followed, Cité Soleil was the scene of several pitched battles between armed youths and police, usually after incidents of police brutality. Violence flared dramatically last March 6 in Soleil 9, when the Haitian National Police (PNH) descended with guns blazing. Official reports said about 20 people died that day. Residents of Soleil 9 say that more than 40 people were killed in violence which was brutal and arbitrary. For example, in a case of mistaken identity, a policeman executed at point blank range a man who was taking care of his infant daughter. His fly-blown body lay in the street for 4
River of Sewage One of the main leaders of the OBJS9 was Telixson Nexil, who people in the neighborhood had nicknamed American because he was always generous in giving money from his pocket, what little he had (in Haiti, American tourists are considered easy marks for beggars). Last May, the police arrested Telixson, along with 3 neighborhood friends -- TelusDieumaitre, Casseus Jean-Francois, and Wilfrid Jean -- while they were playing dominos at his aunt's house in the northern town of Limbe, which they we revisiting. Residents of Soleil 9 say they were charged and convicted on false accusations of being brigands and members of the Red Army. After appearing before Judge Edner Jean-Pierre, the 4 were sentenced to do time in the National Penitentiary, where they are now held. Macoute soldiers who repressed us during the coup are now high- ranking officers in the new police force, an OBJS9 youth, who did not want to be identified, said. Meanwhile, our leaders, who defend our interests, are put in jail. Is this what we fought and died for during the coup? Is that what Nurses administering Triage they call democracy? In early December, the residents of Soleil 9 plan to hold a demonstration to demand the release of the OBJS9 members as well as government action to stop the flow of oil - which they call the grease -into the canal. The direction of EDH has always helped finance the work of cleaning the Boston canal, said a Dec. 2 EDH press release, referring to the U.S. city nickname given this (Continued on page 10)
Poverty Press
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part of Cité Soleil. This years specifically, $18,315 was allocated to this end via the Delmas Mayor's office. Unfortunately, these projects did not achieve the expected results... In pursuit of a definitive solution, EDH is in the process of building a waste receptacle (puisard) to hold the waste petroleum from the Varreux plant. The people of Soleil 9 view such promises very skeptically, whether coming from EDH or the government. [Prime Minister Rosny] Smarth says that he is going to clean up the grease in the area, explained Williams. But if EDH continues to throw its grease on us, it is like washing one's hands and drying them in the dirt. It would be better if he did nothing and instead found us a new place to live. Smarth, Social Affairs Minister Pierre Amedee, and Interior Minister Jean Moliere visited Soleil 9 on Nov. 28, after residents denounced government indifference to their plight on the airwaves. However, the visit seemed to only increase resentment. After stepping
from their giant jeeps in pressed suits, the ministers heard little of what the people had to say. When the Prime Minister got to the head of the canal, I said ' You see our situation here in Cité Soleil', one outraged woman recounted. The Prime Minister then held his nose and I said to him 'You see how you are holding your nose when you come here just for one day, how you can't even breathe. I live here every single day, morning, noon, and night. Here is where I eat, drink and sleep. So what do you have to say about that, Prime Minister?' But then, the big shots took him and put him in a car and drove away with him. Other residents felt the visit was entirely hypocritical. It looks like those guys only came because they thought we were going to burn down EDH, shouted another man. Otherwise, those guys never come here. There was even war going on here, and those guys never came. So they didn't come because of this canal. Ironically, rather than addressing the problem of Haiti's accelerating urbanization, the government of President Rene Preval is
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aggravating the situation. By implementing foreign dictates such as lowering tariff walls, the government is allowing cheap agricultural imports to flood Haiti and destroy the livelihood of thousands of Haitian peasants, who then have no choice but to pour into the cities - primarily the capital - in search of a way to survive. They pack into shanty towns like Cité Soleil, which are becoming popular time-bombs whose fuses have been lit by neoliberalism. The oily canal which snakes through Cité Soleil is poisoning both Haiti's people and its ecosystem. The fires are only dramatic warnings about the subtle everyday destruction occurring. Meanwhile the Haitian government remains immobilized to act, due to its fixation on foreign aid to solve every problem. Our government looks only abroad for solutions to our problems here at home, said one OJBS9 militant. They don't have the imagination to use the human resources which are right here. They wish we would just disappear. This situation has to change. **** Has anything really changed since then? Why did we devote a whole paper to Haiti and why did we
change the name this month to Poverty Press. How could we not? Please pray for our International Team so they can push the Haitian Government to do their job. Sean is making plans for an International Conference and is trying to go before the United Nations and Congress. When people ask him why take care of people from another country, he gives a simple answer, and now I understand. If America hardens their hearts to anyone worldwide, then America one day will treat the poor and homeless the same right here. He claims there will be a new class of poor in America. To stop this path, there needs to be some softening of hearts and more determination to change, and I think our International Teams will try their hardest to make Haiti a nice place to live or to visit on vacation one day. As Sean says, “Lets soften the hearts of all people for the cause of Haiti, (and others. ..in time) lets make them as soft as a babies bottom.” -Lois Cross lcross@homelessvoice.org
Just Get To Know Them
Y
ou shouldn’t think the people here were always homeless. People in this shelter were once children with parents, and grew to have shiny new cars and new houses. They had nice clothes, and new shoes. They had showers each night, and their own beds to sleep in. They had a better confidence in themselves, too. But I guess those shiny cars, new houses, clothes and shoes can come and go. The confidence in any person would change the way they would live and think. For example, when people who don’t know them, they are scared of them, or think badly of them because of where they live. The confidence lowers in them and makes them feel worse about themselves. I have gotten to know quite a few people here and they are smart, funny, friendly and nice. They have made mistakes, but are proud to say that they made it to our shelter. The people I’ve met here have become my friends. Like Mr. Harrison, Mr. Friendly, Johnny, Mr. Davis and even more people too. There are also some people who live and work here that have become my friends too, like Kevin, Joyce, Mr. Buchanan, Mr. Lyman and Mr. Sawyer. These people are either staff workers, vendors or mental health consumers. They are all people I’ve made friends with and maybe you can too, if you just get to know them. By Daniella Morales Staff Reporter dmorales@homelessvoice.org Age 12
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HOMELESS VOICE
We Need Your Help
We at the Homeless Voice thank you for all of your donations; in the buckets, in the mail, and for the ones dropped off at the shelter. We are still trying our best to get this mortgage paid off, for this is what will save us. Once this gets done there should never be anymore problems. I gave you all a dare: go out and let your friends read the stories written about us. All we do, is try our best. Just come by and work with us for the day and you will see how important this place is. Again, we thank all of you for your help. Help us make the thermometer grow.
Don't forget friends we still have many options to help us pay off our mortgage. Below you will see our chart of how you can send in a check to get the mortgage down as much as possible. We are still looking for a mortgage broker to help us get a rate better than 10 percent. You also may become a block captain and get involved in the new car raffle. This block captain can get others to also sell the tickets.
Does your organization want to raise funds? We have a program where your charity can earn money by selling tickets for the raffle.
HELP PAY OFF OUR MORTGAGE We need just 42,700 people to send in a check for $20.00, Or 17,080 people to send in a check for $50.00, Or 8,540 people to send in a check for $100.00, Or 854 people to send in a check for $1,000, Or Just one wonderful person or business to send a check for the entire $854,000.00 Remember the donation is tax deductible!! Please send your checks to:
The COSAC Building Fund P.O. Box 292-577 Davie, Florida 33329 We do thank you It is not wealth one asks for, but just enough to preserve one's dignity, to work unhampered, to be generous, frank and independent. -William Somerset Maugham
Things We Need Donated Soda Sneakers Laundry Detergent Pillows Linens for Bunk Beds Blankets Towels Cars Computers Motor Homes
Over the Counter Pain Medication Copy Paper Pens Notebooks House Telephones Sugar Butter Salt Coffee creamer
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Coffee Coffee Frequent Flier Miles Toilet Paper Lysol Spray Clorox Wipes Industrial Mops Brooms Pillow Cases Recreation Items
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Call 954-925-6466
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