Wednesday, April 28, 2010

2010 a bad year for earthquakes?

[cross-posted from Tracy's blog, Millennial Law Prof]

That seems like a silly question, all things considered.  But the following from Reuters alert.net for journalists covering disasters suggests otherwise:

IS 2010 WORSE THAN USUAL FOR QUAKES? To the untrained eye, it may seem like an unusually high number of earthquakes has occurred in 2010, including fatal tremors in Haiti, Chile, Mexico and China. But scientists from the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) say the level of earthquake activity is nothing out of the ordinary, despite the devastation caused. The important thing about quakes is where they happen - how near major urban centres, in poor or rich countries, how far below the surface? A researcher with the Brussels-based Centre for Research on the Epidemiology of Disasters (CRED) says the risks are growing in low and middle-income countries  with rising populations concentrated in cities. Meanwhile, aid workers are struggling to help those made homeless in the remote quake-hit Chinese county of Yushu after a choking sandstorm and heavy snow severed a vital air link. And May 12 marks two years since the Sichuan earthquake killed more than 80,000 people, including thousands of children who were crushed to death by collapsing schools.  

Sunday, April 18, 2010

It's raining.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince.

There is no end in sight.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince

And thousands are without shelter tonight.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince.

Tarps and Twine will not do.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince

And will continue at least through June.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince.

That’s where I met a baby only a few weeks old.

It’s raining in Port Au-Prince

And she can’t protect him from the cold.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince.

I wonder what they will do.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince

But I don’t see it on the news.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince.

I wonder what we can do.

It’s raining in Port-Au-Prince

And I ask you to feel the rain, too.

It’s Raining in Port-Au-Prince.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Part 2: Haiti


The hotel was known as the compound. We were locked in and out. It provided us all with a sense of security. The compound was filled with relief workers and journalists. Many were picked up by a driver and taken directly their destinations and never stepped outside on their own. After only a few hours in the compound the faces become familiar. Without speaking you give a polite nod and muster up a smile that says ‘we get it’. The scene always reminded me of something out of an Indiana Jones’ movie or Casablanca. Picture it- an old cantina, a room full of ex-pats, and everyone sort of knows everyone else without saying a word. Maybe it wasn’t quite that exotic, but you get the idea.

Well, why others were being transported door to door to their destination we decided to step out on our own. I would like to say this was because of our sheer bravery, but it was because of our first day naïveté. When we stepped out the front door we were not sure where we were going except towards the closest tarp city (just across the street).

We had just stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of our hotel when a man approached us and said that he was supposed to help us. Well, we weren’t quite that naïve. We started to walk away but he continued to follow us and said that our driver told him to look out for us. We were still more than a bit leery, but he spoke English and we really had no idea where we were going- so we took the chance. At that moment, Michael became our official guide and translator for the week. Although, I’m not sure his fragile frame could have held up against a strong wind but he took responsibility for protecting us. Whenever crowds would get too close or start grabbing us he would step in, he cleared a path for us to walk through the busy streets, and he guided us around Port-Au-Prince. He truly made a difference in our experience and whether it was luck or we were lucky- it all worked out. And every morning we could count on Michael to be waiting for us.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Part 1: Haiti




Upon arrival in Port-Au-Prince (PAP) you are hit with the devastation. It is as if God himself reached down and crushed the country in his hands and let the crumbs fall back to the Earth. And there it stands. Virtually unchanged for 77 days and counting. The pictures on TV, when there were pictures, do not even begin to portray the wreckage. As you walk or drive through PAP you don’t just see a building or a block that has been impacted, it is every building and every block. AND every block thereafter. The entire city. You hope to see some space that is untouched if only to give you mind a rest from what it is seeing.

There are piles and piles of rubble, which is understandable and something the mind can easily comprehend. But there are also dozens upon dozens of buildings that have collapsed, stacking its sometimes numerous floors like pancakes. Schools, churches, homes, and businesses. Some of those buildings were empty when they collapsed. Some were not. Without large construction equipment, pulling those layers apart will be nearly impossible. No equipment has come. These buildings are now serve as unceremonious tombs. Tombs that kids are playing around. Tombs that people hover near for shade from the midday sun. Tombs that people are picking through with pick axes trying to salvage metal to be sold. Tombs that are next to the house you live in, the place you work, the places you eat. After 77 days the tombs are still there.