Doctors and nurses, despite limited resources, are caring for the victims.

She hands me a silver chain with a crucifix pendant, as I stooped over her cot which serves as a bed for this three-year-old and her mother Madame Velázquez. She is in pain, the look on her face shows it, her amputated left foot tells of what the earthquake did to her. I use the best Kweyol I can muster amidst the pain and suffering at this makeshift hospital, to speak to this mother who watches over her daughter.

“Part of the wall fell on her foot and I went over to save her,” she tells me. Their home is now gone, but they are happy that they are together, distressed that the whereabouts of other family members are uncertain. “Di bon monsieur a merci” her mother says as I turn to leave after handing her a bag of Doritos and she forces out a few words barely audible. It is a tone that I recognize—a knowing and thankful expression that in the face of this tragedy, people care.

All over Haiti, there are stories, personal ones about the day the earth quaked on Tuesday January 12, 2010 at a magnitude of 7.0, 4:53pm EST. From the moment we get off the American Eagle flight at 6:40am on Thursday February 4, there are stories to listen to, each one as compelling as the last. On that day, I accompany a team of journalists from Saint Lucia, Antigua and Puerto Rico for a glimpse of the situation in Haiti. The actual setting there tells an even grimmer picture, than those television images and still photos on the internet.

The trip was organized by American Airlines who have been working with various relief organizations to fly supplies into Port-au-prince. So far, AA and American Eagle have shuttled more than 200,000 pounds of aid into Haiti, via San Juan, Puerto Rico. Their eighteen relief missions to date have transported medical personnel, relief workers, humanitarian supplies, bottled water, food, medicine and other non-perishable goods. The mission that we are on is actually number eighteen and one of ten that the Sandals foundation has agreed to fund between February 2 and February 23.

Our instructions are clear before we get there. The American armed forces are in control of the airport. We have just about an hour to get our story and get out. Otherwise we miss our departure slot. Next flight out might be the next day, or God knows when. The airport has been that busy, not with commercial flights, but with military aircraft and relief cargo from all over, including the United States, Brazil, France and Venezuela.

As we deplane in the dim light of dawn, the air is musty and everyone including the doctors and American Airlines’ personnel who accompany us get busy seeing about their cargo. Hyacinthe Jean Cetoute who has been working at the Toussaint L’Ouverture airport since December helps to place the supplies into a nearby vehicle. There is an awkward look of desolation on his face. I go over to speak to him and at first he looks surprised that I speak Kweyol. He had assumed that I was an American.

“On the day of the earthquake I was at work at the airport,” he tells me. Luckily for him, not so lucky for his family. “I lost my only child, my aunt, my niece, my nephew and my home,” he says as his voice drops.
“So where do you live now where do you go to after work?” I asked. “Right now I am on the streets,” he explains. After leaving work at eight in the morning, Cetoute says he walks around aimlessly all day, sometimes in search of something to eat then sleeping on the sidewalk before getting up for work at 4am. He is now anxious to talk about the food supplies which have been a nightmare since the disaster struck.

“Some people are getting, some are not getting. If I am nearby I would get but most times I have to go in search of the food,” Cetoute says. It is ironic that on a daily basis he helps load tonnes of food into trucks for distribution, but sometimes can’t get any. Cetoute thinks that the coordination and distribution is lacking and that people are getting frustrated and impatient. Recently thieves broke into the airport storehouses to steal some of the supplies. As I turn to leave Cetoute is handed a turkey and cheese sandwich, which may be his only meal for the day.

The aid workers admit that there is not nearly enough to feed and keep content the more than three million who have been affected by the earthquake. Getting things to all of them in a timely fashion is another issue.

“We are happy to be helping out. We know that every bit counts and that we may just be scratching the surface, but this is really sad and we are trying to play our part,” Minnette Velez, Corporate Communications of American Airlines tells me.

As early as 7am a few men hang out outside the gates near the airport, in search of food for themselves and their families. But American soldiers stand guard. Looting has been a problem and not only are they guarding the supplies, but ensuring that relief workers and volunteers remain safe.

We come to the hospital near the airport and it is hardly what I expected. It is a jigsaw of tents and makeshift shelters. Outside a cordoned off area are small tents with the sign “Isolation” written on most of them. “There are persons in there suffering from Typhoid, Malaria, Tuberculosis and Tetanus,” Michele Chin, a registered nurse from Jackson Memorial in Miami tells me. She is in Haiti as a volunteer, working with the group Project Medishare and says the situation is overwhelming.

The saved: In Haiti everyone who survived the quake has an equally horrifc story.

“Just yesterday we had to send someone with Tetanus to the ship Comforter and another we are trying to fly over to Miami,” Chin relates. “I am working with the intensive care unit and we see severe cases every day. On Tuesday we had a child with severe respiratory distress and she had to be placed in an incubator to help with her breathing. Later we inserted a needle into her chest cavity and had to withdraw 1000 cc of puss,” Chin says. Though they are limited in terms of technology, the team of doctors, nurses and volunteers are doing their best. The last thing they need is a breakout of Typhoid or Malaria to add to the situation, but there are fears and the mosquito infestation adds to that.

Inside one of the large tents, the doctors and nurses caring for the patients welcome us as personnel hands out stuffed toys to the children compliments American Airlines and Sandals International. Some force a smile, for others the pain is till unbearable.

But amidst all the hurting and anguish there is a sense of appreciation. The proud and mighty reflection of the Haitian Rouge et Bleu, converging with the Rouge, Bleu et Blanc of the mighty USA

Just four months old, these twins who were born ironically on September 11, stare at me. They were also pulled from the rubble, another survival story, but too young to understand what has happened. But for those old enough, after all the food, medical supplies and shelter has been taken care of, their psychological wounds will have to be attended to, the colour of which the international community will also have to understand and give some attention and outstretched hands and hearts to.