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.
