#hurricanematthew | Clean Water for Haiti

Hurricane Matthew – Does It Make A Difference?

Oct 15, 2016

It’s been over a week since Hurricane Matthew blasted through Haiti. There are so many feelings and thoughts swirling around in my head and heart, and it’s been hard to sort it all out. I don’t think I have yet, and I don’t know when I will. Little nuggets keep popping to the surface, and I’m thankful that they’re small because that’s what I can digest right now. Like so many here, I’ve been seeing posts from friends and other organizations on the ground that are helping with relief work down south. It’s devastating. Heartbreaking. I wish we could be there and on the ground, but I know that’s not our role in this.

It all feels overwhelming at times.

Yesterday I was thinking about the clash of emotions and thoughts. The conversations in my head where I would remind myself that we do something really well, and we’ve had experience with this kind of thing and know how we can best be supporting relief efforts right now. And yet, I would daydream about what other things we could be doing. Then I would remind myself that I needed to get filter forms prepared for another delivery day and get stuff ready for the guys to take out. That tomorrow we would be building filters again and preparing stuff for the next batch of installations that are most likely happening on Monday. That there’s a Community Promoter taking orders and collecting the co-pay that we require from each household so they invest in their filter and care for it well. All of these pieces working together like a well oiled machine, because it is. We know how to do this well from many years of trial and error, from making mistakes, from working with the local community and our Haitian staff, and we keep tweaking. Always trying to do it better.

I think about the press notes released from the WHO (World Health Organization) this week. The documented cases of Cholera throughout the country are starting to climb. The numbers grow most rapidly in the south, but the Artibonite is in there too. It’s several departments away from the southern regions, but showing the third highest increases in the country. This is our area. This is where we’ve been working for years.

I feel overwhelmed again because Cholera brings with it a sense of immediacy. For those with weakened immune systems, it can kill in 24 hours. The Artibonite is the area that has been most affected by this stealer of life since 2010 when cases were first reported. I want to shift into high gear. To get out there faster. To push harder.

But then I remember that this is not who we are. It’s not what we do.

No. Harder and faster is not the way we work. We work steady. We work calculated. We work in a way that means we can provide the follow up and care in line with our initial output of filters. Our whole goal is to be a constant presence for the long term. We’re not running a sprint, we’re running the marathon. We know how to do this well, and the answer right now, no matter how much we might feel we could be doing, is to stick with what we know works. What others have affirmed works.

I find my thoughts shifting from what I wish we could do, to what we have done.

And then I feel the conversation turn a bit.

We have been working in the Artibonite for years. We have been working in the Artibonite for years.

We have installed thousands of filters there. We have installed THOUSANDS of filters there.

I think of the number of new Cholera cases again. And I remember when the outbreak started back in 2010. The cases climbed by the hundreds every week. It was out of control. It came so fast, and so hard, that people were blindsided. Running to try and catch up. Running to try and save lives. To educated people on how to protect themselves. To provide access to medicine, water treatment, help…

And I think about the numbers slowly going up. No case is a good case, but what if those thousands of bio-sand filters weren’t there this week? Would the numbers be going up by the hundreds again?

And I feel overwhelmed.

The full weight of what we’ve been working so hard for, of everything we do here at Clean Water for Haiti hits me like a wall.

It’s working.

People have filters. Not everyone, but thousands upon thousands do. They’re getting clean water. They know how to protect themselves from this killer. We have communities waiting for filters because they’ve seen their friends and family and neighbours with one and they know it works. People who have filters aren’t getting Cholera. Plain fact.

We’ve done this thing, pushed at it and worked so hard for so many years because we know it works. But in that, we don’t get to see every life affected. We don’t because those people don’t get sick. We can’t count numbers of people that are protected because of the work we do, because it’s not possible. You can only count the ones that aren’t, the ones that don’t make it. We often talk about the fact that we will never truly know how many lives we’ve helped save because of what we do, simply because those people are still walking around today, healthy. Those kids might be going to school and sassing their parents. Moms might get to see their babies grow up, and grandparents live into old age. Dads might be out working in the fields to provide for their families. We will never know how many.

My heart feels so overwhelmed right now, but it’s not from feeling helpless this time, it’s from gratitude.

Gratitude that we get to be part of this. Gratitude that all the hard work, the worry, the sweat, and even the tears over the years has been worth it. So very worth it.

It settles in. This deep knowing.

There are thousands of people at work in the south right now helping in relief. This is their role. They are saving lives after this disaster.

And we are here. This is our role. Continuing to do what we’ve been doing all along – preventing a different kind of disaster.

So does it make a difference? This work we do? The support you give? All the dollars sent and used here in Haiti over the years?

I know it does. Thousands upon thousands in homes all through the Artibonite know it does.

Thank you for supporting the work we’re doing, whether you’re sharing about us with people in your circle or sending your hard earned finances. You are helping us save lives here. That isn’t an exaggeration, that is a fact.

~Leslie

Hurricane Matthew Day 2… or 3?

Oct 4, 2016

Hurricane Matthew finally touched down in the south of Haiti early this morning. Reports from other expats and missionaries are coming in, but until all the rain passes I don’t think we’ll have a full picture of what the country is looking at as far as damage and what needs to be done.

The last few days have been long. The anticipation was nauseating. All of the two to three day out predictions had the storm kicking into full gear on Sunday night, and here we are a full two days later finally feeling like we’re on the back end of it.

The waiting for this thing was brutal. Gut wrenching, really. I’ve been here for 11 years. In fact, today is my 11 year Haiti anniversary. In that time I’ve seen some active hurricane seasons, but nothing of this degree. Knowing it was coming, and having no idea how bad or how long it would take to get here and pass through was hard. Knowing that it wasn’t a case of IF there would be damage, but rather how much and where. It was the first hurricane at our new facilities. We had no idea how they would hold up. My kids are older now and much more aware of things going on around them. I had no idea how they would hold up. And, to top it all off, Chris left for the US on Wednesday and won’t be back for another week. So it’s just me and the kids and I was hoping and praying that things wouldn’t be too crazy.

Things in the past two days were ridiculously calm. Eerily calm. Yesterday as I wandered around the yard and stood on our deck looking out over our neighboring fields I couldn’t help but wonder about the birds and other animals. Did they know this thing was coming? Would the leave? I found a tree frog on one of our window panes last night as I was closing up, so I don’t think he got them memo that evacuation might be in his best interest.

Things stayed calm all through the night. This morning at about 5:30 the rain started. All morning it was light, but steady. Around 10 am the wind started to pick up a bit, but would go in bursts. The kids and I were hanging out in our room where they were watching movie after movie to stay occupied, while I kept checking for updates from our expat and missionary group on Facebook. I kept seeing the large work yard roof fluttering in the bursts of wind. This was the biggest question mark with the new property. Would they hold when we had a big storm, or would they just blow off. Out of everything that was the one thing that I felt confident would get damaged.

I didn’t have to wait long to see if I was right. Minutes later I saw it flap up, and then down, like a piece of paper being caught in the wind. I need to tell you, this sucker is made up of 2×4 steel beams embedded in concrete at the top of posts. Chewie, our friend that helped us with so much of the construction last year, and his wife Kendra are staying with us after a year absence while they get their house cleaned up and liveable again. After the roof sagged we decided to run out and move the two work trucks away from the overhang. I was worried that things would rip up and fly, and the last thing we needed was a much needed work truck with a giant section of tin embedded in it’s roof.

About 10 to 15 minutes after we moved the trucks I was on the phone with Chris telling him what had been going on when I heard a giant groaning. I then watched a 60 foot long flap of steel bend down and come to rest against the four posts that hold up the front side of the roof. And that was it. It hasn’t moved since. And, honestly, for that I’m thankful. I had been worried that a gust would get underneath the roof and rip up sheets of steel and send them flying to hit who knows what. The other two smaller roofs held amazingly well, and the damage that we do have is something we can repair. I think we’ll even be able to salvage most of the roofing tin.

Through the afternoon the eye has passed by Haiti and is now heading out toward Cuba. It’s still running at a category 4, which is amazing considering it touched down on land in Haiti. Usually that takes the power out of a storm like this.

There was about an hour of calm, which was a bit eerie again, and then the rain started and it’s settled in. This is the part that scares me for our area of the country. We’ve had places, like Gonaives, that have experienced bad flooding in the past after big storms. We’re anticipating the same this time around, especially if the rain lingers like it has been.

There are so many things that I’m thankful for right now, but my heart is also heavy for what has been lost here. And, it’s going to take days to figure out how bad the damage is through the country and what needs to be done. We know that many will be eager to give to the relief efforts here. After the experience of the earthquake in 2010 we, and many other organizations here on the ground, are asking supporters to be very intentional about where you donate. Please consider supporting smaller, grassroots organizations with long term people on the ground full time, over the big name ones. These smaller organizations already have relationships within communities, and have a better understanding of the culture and how to truly help.

We know that with a storm like this there will be flooding in areas of the Artibonite Valley where most of the communities that we serve with filters are located. There is already a demand for filters, but after something like this that will only increase. Also, when flooding and excessive rain occurs, there are spikes in water-borne disease, so we know that it’s going to be more important than ever to be going in and making the filters available to people who were already in areas heavily impacted by Cholera. In the coming days as we have a chance to assess where we can best focus our attention we’ll share how you can be involved in helping to support the work we’re doing.

Until then, know that we’re safe, that our staff and their families are safe, and that we are so very thankful. Please pray for Haiti in the coming days.

~Leslie