Mar 6th, 2010
PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti — Thousands of schools in and around this devastated capital could remain closed for months or never reopen, according to Haitian and United Nations education officials. That leaves vast numbers of children languishing in camps or working in menial jobs as they struggle to survive.
Even before the Jan. 12 earthquake, only about half of Haiti’s school-age children were enrolled in classes, a glaring symbol of the nation’s poverty.
Unicef, basing its estimates on talks with government officials, said that more than 3,000 school buildings in the earthquake zone had been destroyed or damaged. Hundreds of teachers and thousands of students were killed, and officials are questioning the safety of the remaining buildings after violent aftershocks in recent weeks, making the goal of Haitian education officials to reopen many schools by April 1 seem increasingly remote.
“We have six engineers in the Education Ministry to survey more than 10,000 schools to see if they’re safe,” said Charles Tardieu, a former education minister who is pushing for schools to reopen in tent camps. “Let’s face the reality that many schools are never going to be used again, and that we urgently need other ways to revive the system,” he said.
With their options limited, thousands of children are toiling on this city’s streets instead of going to school. Marckin Sainvalier, 10, helped his grandmother wash clothes one recent morning alongside the rubble of Rue Bonne-Foi in the central commercial district. As for school, “that was before the earthquake,” he said, explaining that his mother left him in his grandmother’s care in the chaotic days after the quake struck. “A lot has happened since then.”
On another street in the commercial district, Dieuvenson Semervil, 12, scavenged for padlocks in a collapsed hardware store. Before the quake, Dieuvenson said, he dreamed of becoming a mechanic. A body decomposed next to him to as he picked through the rubble. Near the ruins of the partly destroyed Lycée Alexandre Pétion, one of the city’s public schools, Samanta Louis, 11, swept the sidewalk, work she said helped support her nine siblings and parents who lived in the tent camp of Champs de Mars. A former student at the Lycée, Jean Pierre Lestin, 15, scavenged brick from a collapsed wall to sell. “I would like to be an engineer someday,” he said.
Children staying in the camps face trials beyond laboring in the streets. Health workers in the camps are reporting a rising number of young rape victims, including girls as young as 12. Alison Thompson, an Australian nurse and documentary director who volunteers at a tent clinic on the grounds of the Pétionville Club, said she had cared for a 14-year-old girl who was raped recently in the camp.
“The entire structure of the lives of these children has been upended, and now they’re dealing with the predators living next to them,” Ms. Thompson said.
The government here has recognized the urgency of reopening schools to provide some structure to those picking up the pieces of their lives. But its efforts to do so have faltered. Officials declared schools open in unaffected areas as of Feb. 1; some students have trickled into those schools, but many have not, say education specialists.
Here in the capital, symbols of the devastated education system lie scattered throughout the city. Metal scavengers are still picking through the wrecked Collège du Canapé-Vert, where as many as 300 students studying to become teachers died in the earthquake.
Foreign aid groups here say that Haiti differs from other poor nations recently struck by natural disasters, like Pakistan and Bangladesh, in that the quake gutted the education system of the capital in a highly centralized country. In New Orleans, more than half of the public schools remained shut a year after Hurricane Katrina struck in 2005, said Marcelo Cabral, an education specialist with the Inter-American Development Bank.
Haiti’s education system was already dysfunctional before the earthquake. Only about 20 percent of schools were public, with the rest highly expensive for the poor. Even in public schools, poor families struggled to pay for uniforms, textbooks and supplies. While other countries in Latin America and the Caribbean spend about 5 percent of their gross domestic product on education, Haiti was spending just 2 percent, according to the Inter-American Development Bank.
“The quality of education was very low, with about a third of teachers having nine years of education at best,” Mr. Cabral said in an interview here, after a recent meeting with Haitian officials in an attempt to come up with a plan to reopen schools. Mr. Cabral said the Inter-American Development Bank estimated that Haiti needed $2 billion over the next five years to rebuild its education system.
“The quality of education was very low, with about a third of teachers having nine years of education at best,” Mr. Cabral said in an interview here, after a recent meeting with Haitian officials in an attempt to come up with a plan to reopen schools. Mr. Cabral said the Inter-American Development Bank estimated that Haiti needed $2 billion over the next five years to rebuild its education system.
Children make up about 45 percent of Haiti’s population, and they are flooding the camps. Hundreds of children milled about the latrines of a camp at the prime minister’s office complex one day at the end of last month. “I have nothing to do,” said Belle-Fleur Merline, 11, who lives at the camp with her father and two siblings.
Placid Francoise, 17, said she had hoped to become a nurse before the earthquake destroyed her family’s home and forced them into a camp in front of the ruins of the presidential palace. Her mother, a street vendor, had used her meager savings to pay Ms. Francoise’s tuition at the Frères Monfort school.
Now Ms. Francoise lives in a one-room shack with more than a dozen relatives. She said she had no idea when she would return to school. “I work for my mother each day now, so that we may eat,” she said, pointing to the bags of charcoal they sell in front of their hovel.
Some educators and relief officials are not waiting for the government to act, deciding to open their own schools on a piecemeal basis in some camps.
Alzire Rocourt, a headmaster at a private school here before the earthquake, opened a school last month under tents donated by the Israeli Army in the sprawling Pétionville Club camp. She teaches reading, math and geography. The students play volleyball on the dirt outside during recess. And they sing, with vigor, Creole folk songs.
“Apran yonak lot,” the children sang, beaming. “Learning together.”
“Rinmen yonak lot,” they ended. “It means, ‘Loving each other,’ ” Ms. Rocourt said.
She smiled, too, until she recalled how much more needed to be done. Of the more than 25,000 children living in the Pétionville camp, just 260 are in her school.
Mar 2nd, 2010
Dear Friends,
I’m writing to share with you a link to some extraordinary photos. They were taken by photojournalist René Merino during his recent trip to Port-au-Prince. René visited the food program at St. Clare’s, so be sure to look for these pictures towards the bottom of the page. Click here to go to his photo website.
It’s hard to believe the month of March has arrived and that seven weeks have passed since the January 12th earthquake in Haiti.
I am excited to let you know that our partners at St. Clare’s just launched a special education program for children that takes place every afternoon before the food program meals are served. With schools closed in Port-au-Prince and no date set for their reopening, this two-hour gathering is treasured by the hundreds of kids who attend. Members of the education staff are teaching the children songs, providing materials for arts and crafts, and leading group discussions. Lavarice Gaudin, our earthquake relief coordinator, told me the teachers choose one subject a day to explore with the children. Topics have included the earthquake and related fears, courage, service to others, life skills and values. The history of the food program is also shared as 
Lavarice feels it’s important for the children to know where the meals come from and who is involved in making them happen. That includes all of you who provide the funding through the What If? Foundation and the extraordinary cooks who work many hours/day in the rectory kitchen.
I continue to be inspired by the vision, resilience, and faith of our partners in Port-au-Prince. With everything they’ve been through since the earthquake, they have doubled the size of the food program, created educational opportunities to keep students engaged, and have provided an environment of healing, hope, and progress.
Thank you for your continued support through our Tell-A-Friend campaign and all of the other creative ways you are sharing news about our work with others. Your help with expanding our donor base makes such a difference and will help ensure that the programs we fund can continue into the future as the community of St. Clare’s rebuilds.
Piti piti na rive! Little by little we will arrive,
Margaret Trost
Feb 20th, 2010
By Bill Quigley. Bill is legal director at the Center for Constitutional rights and a long time human rights advocate. This article was written with the assistance of Vladimir Laguerre in Port au Prince. You can contact Bill at quigley77@gmail.com.
The United Nations reported there are 1.2 million people living in “spontaneous settlements” or homeless camps around Port au Prince. Three people living in the camps spoke with this author this week, before the hard rains hit.
Jean Dora, 71—
My name is Jean Dora. I was born in 1939. I live in a plaza in front of St. Pierre’s church in Petionville [outside of Port au Prince]. I am here with twelve members of my family. We all lost our home. We have a sheet of green plastic to shade us from the sun. We put up some bed sheets around our space.
I have many small grandchildren living here with me. My son and daughters live with here too. My daughter will soon have a child. She will go to the Red Cross tent when it is time for the baby to come.I worked for the Chinese Embassy for 36 years. I cleaned their offices. I retired in 2007. Until the earthquake I lived in an apartment with my family. The building was destroyed.
At night we put a piece of carpet down on the ground. Then we lay covers down and try to sleep. When it rains, the water comes in. We bring bottles to fill up with water. But we have very little food. There is no toilet in the park. We must go behind the church.
My son used to work to support us. He is a good chef. He worked at a restaurant by the Hotel Montana. The restaurant was destroyed. He lost his job. There is no work.During all my days, I have never seen anything like this. I am not in a good position to say what will happen next. I think things are not going to change. I hope things will get better. But I don’t think so. My son has no job and he cannot help our family. If my son is working, we can all stand up. If he is not working, we are down. The future is not clear. It looks dark for us.
Nadege Dora, 28—
My name is Nadege Dora. I am 28. I have three boys and one girl. I am supposed to deliver my baby this month.
I now live in the plaza in Petionville with the rest of my family. Our house was destroyed. I used to sell bread on the street to make a little money. The father of the children does not help us. It is as if we are not alive to him. We are just trying to survive. No one in our family is working. There is no work. If you get a ticket you can go get a bag of rice. But I am a pregnant woman. I cannot fight the crowds for a ticket. I tried. But people were squashing me and I was afraid I would get knocked down and crushed.
My niece helped a woman bring rice back from Delmas [another neighborhood outside of Port au Prince]. She shared her rice with us. Right now we still have some rice. But we have no oil. No meat, no milk, nothing but rice. We have no money to buy other ingredients. Since the earthquake I have never eaten a full meal. When my baby comes, I will go to the Red Cross tent to have the baby. I went there to see a Doctor. They gave me some pills. Those pills made me sick.
The mayor came here and asked people if we had relatives in the countryside. They would help us go there. But we do not want to go to the countryside. We don’t know anybody in the countryside. We need to have a better life than this.
Garry Philippe, 47—
My name is Garry Philippe. I am 47. I live by the airport entrance. I built my own tent. I tied a sheet to a tree and I put up poles to hold up other sheets. I live here with my five children. My wife was killed in our house in the incident. We lived in Village Solidarity. I owned our house. I built our house over 4 years, step by step, as I got the money. I was outside when it happened. My girls were by the front door and ran out. My wife ran back to help the boys and she died.
We had no funeral for my wife because we have no money for a funeral. I buried her myself in a cemetery by Cite Soleil. The children cannot imagine that their mother is gone just like that. They are always thinking about their mother.
We do not have beds. When it is time to sleep we put bags on the ground. Then we put our covers on the bags and sleep. We wash ourselves by putting water in a bottle. Then we stand in a pot and pour the water on our selves. When it rained we went to a place where they had a plastic tent. We stayed there till the rain stopped. More than 20 people were inside that tent. Before, I was a mechanic in a garage. Where I worked was destroyed. There is no work since the quake.
We heard other camps got bags of rice. In our camp, nothing. I ask friends for food. Sometimes someone will give us something to eat. We have no toilet in this camp. When we have to make a toilet, we do it in a bag. Then we bring the bag to the edge of the camp. It is about a one minute walk away. We see the trucks going in and out of the airport. Many trucks. But the trucks never stop for us. It is not safe here. But what can I do? I accept it, it is God’s work. We pray in the camp together.No one has come to talk to us to tell us what is going on. We know nothing about tents or tarps. There is no school for the
children.
I cannot tell you exactly what is going to happen next. I am not the Lord. I think it is going to get worse for us in
the camps. We need tents and food. We need water and school and jobs. We need help to find a place to stay. The rain is coming soon. Water is going to come and our babies will lose their lives.
