Lest We Ever Forget

Rarely a day has yet gone by, that I don't think about Haiti and all the myriads of people living under tarps with only one outhouse per two thousand people, and no shower facilities. There's no big pile of firewood to grab wood for a campfire tonight. There's no privacy. There's no soft, squishy moss under the cedar trees, no dappling shade, no secret little strawberry or raspberry patch, no babbling brook, or raging, gurgling river. There's just an endless sea of people- no privacy, no facilities, no lawn chair. This is not camping, this is a nightmare.

I'm a fair-weather camper. If the weather is poor, I'd rather be at home. My record for camping at the same time as God decided to send refreshing rains to quench the parched, dry ground is about 90%. That's excellent odds if you were buying a 50/50 ticket, but if you were hoping to have beautiful, sunny, glorious weather all your trip, it's pretty poor. Last year we bought a tent trailer after a particularly bad camping trip where visibility was horrible and we were in a small tent while outside a thunderstorm raged on for 12 hours!! We had the opportunity to experience 2 inches of rain, and unfortunately for us, we had the last tent site with dappling shade and a little strawberry patch in a LOW SPOT, so we had water running through our tent right where our dog was sleeping. Come morning, there was nothing wonderful about our location. We were wet, our dog was wet, (and stank), and everything we owned was wet and dirty. It was time to go home. Trust me, to us it was a big deal, and we talked about it plenty. Then we bought a used tent trailer, nothing fancy by North American standards, I assure you. It still rains when we camp, but we stay dry now. What a huge difference to be up off of the ground, in a fairly decent accomodations, featuring an indoor/outdoor cook stove and soft, squishy mattresses. Ahhh, life.

The earthquake was 54 days ago. I cannot imagine living under a tarp for half that time. I would have gone home after the first rainstorm, for sure. But in Haiti, they are home.

I'm really happy to say that some now are in tents, that's wonderful. Those are the luxury sites-at least they won't have to take shifts poking the tarp up to make sure it drains the puddles off. At least those people don't have to wonder if the sticks are damaging the tarps, and when it's windy, the are protected. At least those people have a place where eyes won't be on them all day or all night. At least.