HAITI
“IT’S LIKE HELL ON EARTH IN
HAITI BUT I HAVE TO HELP”
Flying over Haiti last
month, the Red Cross
emergency response plane
was eerily silent. From the
window I could see the capital city,
Port-au-Prince, surrounded by
a shimmering Caribbean-blue sea. Yet
instead of buildings, all I could see was
a mountain of concrete rubble. This
hillside city looked like a collapsed
deck of cards. The earthquake on
12 January which measured a massive
7.3 on the Richter scale had turned a
poor but thriving city into hell on earth.
Driving in on a rickety old school
bus from Santa Dominga, hordes
of desperate people swarmed the
streets. Outside, the smell of burning
combined with clouds of dust stung in
my throat. ‘I can’t do this,’ I thought,
tears prickling my eyes. Then I looked
around me. There were children with
broken limbs and no
parents, trying to get
on with things. For
the Haitian people
there is no respite.
I decided in that
moment to suck it
up and get on with it.
I had a job to do.
Pleasant?
Glamorous? My work
is anything but. I’m
responsible for a team of five and it’s
our job to bring toilets, sanitation and
basic hygiene training to two of the
worst camps in Port-au-Prince (there
are between 500-600 in total).
Conditions there are appalling: people
have fashioned tents out of bits of
wood and old sheets but some were
just sleeping in the open air. There’s
a tiny washing station in one corner
but no toilet facilities at all. Almost
1,000 families live there in an
unbearable stench of raw sewage,
rotting vegetables and burning.
Everybody has lost someone and
thousands upon thousands here
have suffered horrific injuries.
When locals see us arrive they
assume we’re bringing food and water
and they’re so desperate for basic
supplies that when we start talking
����WWW�STYLIST�CO�UK
It’s now a month since the devastating earthquake hit Haiti killing
more than 100,000 people. Red Cross aid worker, Sharon Reader, 30, tells
Stylist what it’s really like in a disaster zone
THOUSANDS HAVE BEEN
LEFT HOMELESS AND INJURED
BY THE EARTHQUAKE
about sanitation
they sometimes
get angry. In
some camps
people are
going to the toilet all over the place. It’s
a serious health risk. There are still
dead bodies under the rubble.
The Red Cross camp, Wood Wear,
seems luxurious in comparison. I share
a tent with Liz, a hygiene nurse. Our
three male colleagues, Theo, Richard
and Peter, sleep outside with just a
mosquito dome between them and the
dust-filled air. They lie on thin mats on
a cobbled stone floor. Two toilets are
shared between 250 of us. We have
water for two hours a day and there’s
no electricity. To make sure we don’t
spread disease ourselves, we take
malaria medication, drink only bottled
water and eat only vacuum-packed
food. We are the lucky ones.
Poverty was a huge problem here
before the earthquake, but now people
are destitute and the atmosphere is
SHARON READER, 30, FLEW OUT
WITH THE RED CROSS ONE WEEK
AFTER THE HAITIAN EARTHQUAKE
lawless. It’s dangerous outside the
camp at night. Men walk around with
machetes, many women have been
raped and there’s looting everywhere
– not to mention the people who take
the law into their own hands. My days
are so busy it’s always a rush to get
back to base before the 6pm curfew.
“Cholera, malaria and
typhoid could kill more
than the 100,000 lost
in the earthquake”
One of the most amazing people
I’ve met is 24-year-old Stanley, one of
our translators. He got a scholarship in
engineering and had almost finished
his degree before the earthquake hit.
Now his whole future is shot to pieces.
When the earthquake hit he threw
himself into helping people trapped
under the rubble. One of the victims
he pulled out was his grandmother.
He had to carry her to six different
hospitals till someone could treat her.
Stories like Stanley’s are all over
Port-au-Prince, with people being
pulled alive from the wreckage weeks
after the earthquake. It gives hope to
everyone here, but I still feel frustrated
at not being able to do more to help.
The worst part of my job is having to
turn away desperate people who come
to the Red Cross compound looking
for work. They beg to drive, dig and
unload trucks but I don’t have enough
resources to help all of them. It’s so
hard; some of them couldn’t work
anyway because they’re injured or too
weakened by lack of food and water.
My way of coping is to take half an
hour alone in my tent each day, then go
back to the camps to see the resilient
spirit of the Haitian people carrying on.
While the camps battle day to day
for food and water, we’re now in a race
against time to prevent further damage
from another potentially catastrophic
problem: Haiti’s looming wet season.
The rains normally hit the island in
mid-February and last for three
months. With hundreds of thousands
still living in camps, the onset of rain
would destroy the sanitation systems
we’ve worked so hard to set up and
accelerate the spread of disease.
Cholera, malaria and typhoid could
sweep through the city in a minute
and could kill more than the 100,000
already lost to the earthquake.
My social life and wardrobe of
clothes back home feels like a million
lifetimes ago. My friends and family
are proud of what I’m doing here but
I know they worry about me. My only
outlet is the daily blog I write for the
Red Cross website. I don’t know how
long I’ll be stationed out here, but
thanks to my close-knit team and
the inspiring strength of the
Haitian people, my work will
make a difference.”
To donate to The Red Cross
Haiti Earthquake Appeal, visit
redcross.org.uk/haitiearthquake
WORDS��AMY�GRIER���PHOTOGRAPHY��PA�PHOTOS
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