Port-au-Prince, January 12th, 2010

Hi everyone,
First and foremost, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your prayers and thoughts. All of the emails and facebook messages were overwhelmingly beautiful and I was told that so many of you were on conference calls praying for our team and Haiti. So thank you. I'm writing this email because I want you all to know what happened in Haiti but at this point I can't answer questions of "how was it?" or "what was it like" very well and I'm not sure when I'll be able to. It's hard for me to process everything still, so this is one of my first attempts to do so. I've posted the full story on our blog, but I've pasted the last three paragraphs below because they're the most important. So I'm going to share what happened from my point of view and ask for your prayers.

I guess I have to first explain what I was doing there. I was in Haiti from January 7th to January 14th. I was part of a research group from my school (there were 6 students and 1 professor who leads our research team). I'll try to give a brief summary of our research: since after the hurricanes in 2008, Haiti was becoming more stable and a lot of people saw this next season as a window of opportunity for Haiti to develop well. We were focusing on how the private sector can impact state building and development in Haiti. We went to Haiti to do interviews with key stakeholders in this process (government, the UN mission (MINUSTAH), NGOs, private sector, etc). We had five days of jam-packed, incredible, eye-opening interviews before the earthquake hit, and ironically, some of Monday's interviews highlighted the need for a greater focus on the environment in Haiti. But it was truly an incredible experience, and to hear about the exciting developments that were taking place. I also got to see my grandma, my great-grandma, my uncle and one of my cousins on Sunday, which was lovely. So that was what happened before Tuesday afternoon.

So right before the earthquake (3:53pm Haitian time), we had just finished a meeting at the Hotel Christophe, which was the main UN building that completely collapsed. We drove to a different UN building (UNDP) for another meeting that was supposed to start at 4. We had driven up a hill and seen all the school kids in their uniforms coming out of school, and commented on how cute they all were. Our driver had just parked the car on top of the hill in the UNDP parking lot and people had started getting out of the car when the earthquake started. I was still in the car. I honestly thought it was a bomb at first; I kept thinking to myself, Haiti doesn't get earthquakes. I don't really know how to describe how it felt, except terrifying. Once it stopped, we heard screaming and we went to look over the rail to see the other side of the hill. The road that we had just been on, including the cars that were on it and the buildings on the side, were completely demolished by rocks that had fallen from the hill above. I could see a woman's arm flailing and hear her screaming. I burst into tears; the other students ran down there to help but my professor told me to stay, because I was a wreck I think.

All of the people from inside the UNDP building ran out and thankfully, that building did not collapse. I felt absolutely helpless and for a while I was just sitting in the parking lot, crying. The guys, along with other Haitians, were able to get that woman out from under the rocks. A bit later, they started carrying injured people into the parking lot (there was a gate to get into the compound). We had one doctor and a couple of us were trying to help in any way we could; all we had were first aid kits though to treat gaping wounds and broken limbs. The doctor had gone out to bring people in, and had put tape on the heads of people she was worried about but couldn't carry herself. So she asked me to go find and bring this girl with tape on her head. As I ran out there, I passed a school that was completely flattened, and I started freaking out until someone reminded me that the kids had already left school. It was already getting dark but thankfully, I found the little girl and carried her inside; her grandmother and little brother who were also under rubble came in afterwards.

As the night went on, more and more people came in, with worse and worse injuries. I sat by children who were by themselves and sang or prayed with them to calm them, and myself, down. I spent most of the night with a little boy (8 years old, I think) who was all by himself and didn't even know how to get to his house. He had a broken wrist and multiple head wounds, and was in so much pain. As I write this, the injuries don't sound so bad but the scariest thing was not knowing how serious it was. He kept asking me if he was going to die; I reassured him that he wouldn't but it was difficult to make him believe me when people around him were screaming in agony and two or three people had already died in the parking lot. Every time an aftershock occurred (about 4-5 times that night), it would set off another round of screaming and praying. I couldn't really sleep because of the aftershocks, the cold, and the fact that the parking lot cement isn't exactly comfortable. I tried to call my grandmother and uncle but the communication lines weren't working; I was able to send texts to a friend and my uncle to tell them I was okay. But when I thought about my grandmother as I was comforting people, I had this strange feeling that they were all ok. Later that night, I finally reached my uncle and he confirmed that they were all fine.

One of the scariest parts was when our team talked about evacuation, and we were told that the international staff may be the only ones that would be taken out and we'd have to leave everyone else there. Thankfully that didn't happen. The next morning, we walked over to the outside of the other UN building and all of us who were in the parking lot (injured, local and int'l staff) were driven to the UN logistics base. The devastation we drove by was unbelievable. It all felt unreal. It was weird because in many places, one building would remain while the ones next to it were completely flattened; that pattern repeated throughout the city. And the roads were filled with people walking. Where, I don't know. But walking. The truck we were in had to turn around and go different routes multiple times because the roads were blocked by debris. When we got to the UN base (by the airport), we were overjoyed to see two of the people we had met from MINUSTAH and they had survived although they were in the building. We heard that most of the people in the building were still unaccounted for, but there was still hope that they could be found alive. One guy we had met survived by jumping out of the window on the 6th floor; his two legs were broken, but he was alive.

That morning, we sat together for a while; then the doctor sent news that she needed help in the infirmary. So we went; I can't explain what it was like when we got there. The only description I could find was hell on earth--the agony was almost unbearable. But people did--and we just had to get to work; those first few hours are a blur. So many people were calling out to me, "Dokte!" because they thought I could help them. All I could do was listen to them and beckon the doctor to come to them when she was free. I found the little boy I had been with the night before; thankfully, he seemed much more stable physically but all he wanted to do was go home to see if his family was there. We had a bit more medical supplies but not enough/the right stuff; people would ask me for pills to take away the pain and I couldn't give them any. At that point, there were about three doctors for about 120 patients. There were about ten-twelve volunteers. Almost everyone had a fractured limb and , most had multiple injuries. There were two babies with injured mothers. I did my first splint, after assisting a doctor to do one; the poor woman who I worked on, her bone was sticking out of her leg...I had to clean the wound out with little alcohol wipes and then put the stick, and wrap it with gauze. The first time I did it, the stick was crooked, so I had to readjust it--honestly, the night of the earthquake, I desperately wished I could be a doctor to help more. But the next day, I wanted to never see anything like what I saw again. We tried to assist the doctors in any way we could: getting the supplies they needed, translating, etc. I'm trying to think of more details, but like I said, it's a blur now.

We went back to the other part of the UN to eat and while we were in one of the buildings, an aftershock occurred and we all ran out. You can only imagine how that affects the people who were already injured in the infirmary. We spent a couple of hours resting after that--to be honest, part of me wanted to go back to the infirmary but another part of me really, really didn't because of how sad and terrible it was. As we walked back to help that evening, my friend prayed with me that we would comfort the people and bring them peace. And there was such a difference from that morning and that evening; that morning, there were multiple times where I was frantic and would forget what I was supposed to do next. But that evening, I was blessed to spend time with three little girls. The first was Emmanuella, who is 14; she has the sweetest demeanor. I asked her if she'd like to pray--she started, and what blew me away was, she prayed for me before she prayed for herself. She thanked God for me being there and prayed that God would use me how He wanted to. And then she prayed that she would be able to draw closer to Him and that He would use her as well. There was an indescribable strength in her prayer. After she finished, she asked for my email. And she said, God sent youu here to be with me. The next girl, Shalinda, was still in her school uniform. I was able to pray with her and her mom. The last girl, Marie-Olene, wasis seven years old and was all alone. She had a broken wrist, but her arm was so swollen and she was in such pain. It was gruesome. I don't know how to explain the time I spent with her, but she's the most beautiful child I'd ever seen. I made her laugh by making silly faces and telling silly stories. My favorite part is when she interrupted me once to touch my hair and ask me if it was real. Some things never change. lol. She shared how she didn't live with her mom, but with her aunt. I was just grateful I could be with her, and her smile is one of the most precious things in the world. As I looked into her big brown eyes, I kept telling her how strong she was and that she wasn't alone at all. Later that night, a man across from her died--the doctor desperately tried to revive him, but to no avail. And Marie-Olene asked me why he had a sheet over his head, and if he was dead, and I couldn't tell her yes. I just said I don't know. I wish I could have stayed by her side all night.

But we had to distribute food--that was the first time we had food to give them. A lot of people couldn't eat on their own, and had to be fed. By that time there were about 150 people. The president of Haiti and his wife visited the infirmary that day. That night, this little boy started screaming, "Ca fait mal! Ca fait mal! (It hurts!). When I got to him, I smiled to try to comfort him, and to my surprise, he stopped crying and smiled back at me. He's probably four or five years old and he has two broken legs. It was amazing to me, and I def think more was going on than just me smiling at him. He was so strong and peaceful. I kept telling him that he was okay, and I know that he is. When he'd fall asleep, he would have nightmares and so we'd wake him up to comfort him. His name is Woodson. The next day, his dad had left, presumably to take care of other family members, but this child was left alone. Another man who didn't know him and could barely walk stumbled over to him to take care of him. That night we went to sleep, praying that the people would survive that night--most of them had blankets but it got so cold at night. But some more doctors had rushed in from the University of Miami that night, and we were so thankful. That night we slept in a bus.

The next morning, we went back to the infirmary; some people had left because we didn't have much to care for them with and they hoped they'd find a hospital that had more doctors and more supplies. At first I was scared because I couldn't find the little boy I was with from the first night, but he just refused to stay in his bed; he had become really attached to another guy from the team, and he'd just keep asking for him and would say "Kenbe-m" over and over (hold me). I spent most of the next morning (Thursday) taking care of patients and distributing food; more and more people came, with terrible injuries. My friends were picking cement bits out of people's wounds. More doctors came in with more nurses, which made us happy. But as the doctors went around looking at the different patients, they stopped at Marie-Olene and stated that she'd lose her hand, because it hadn't been properly taken care of in time. I can't describe the feelings... We had been told that we would probably be leaving that day to the Dominican Republic on a helicopter, but when the time came when they told us we had to leave immediately, I was heartbroken. I had to walk away so fast and not look back because I was afraid I would break down in front of the patients. As we walked out of the infirmary, we all broke down. When we got to the logistics base, we found out that the students and our professor who tried to get stuff from the hotel in which we were staying were unable to get stuff from most of our rooms because it was partially destroyed; my friend couldn't open the door into our room due to the rubble.

So we left Haiti with the clothes on our backs, and I didn't have any ID on me (never doing that again...), but I was grateful to be alive. Leaving Haiti tore my heart, but I also knew that there was very little we could do in the state we were in: no change of clothes, no money, nowhere to sleep. This was my first helicopter ride, but it was not fun; we were able to take one of the patients in really bad condition to the DR to be treated but it smelled terrible. The difference between the DR and Haiti was so striking. So at this point, I've written a lot. I think you can delete the previous sentence. We were well taken care of in the DR, by the Canadian embassy and the Clinton Foundation; after three days, we had our first shower. We bought clothes to change into. And the next day, we went straight to the Canadian embassy to get emergency travel documents, and the Canadians took care of my ticket back to Montreal. I broke down when I found out I had to travel alone, because I had thought one other girl would be able to come on the same flight, but it was sold out after they bought mine. These are little things obviously, but I think it was a bit of a tipping point or something. I had a four hour layover in Newark that I was dreading but my friend Sy, Sy's mom, and my aunt, Tatie Micka, came to see me and it was soo good to see them. It really meant a lot to me. I made it to Montreal and it was wonderful to see my family. So now I'm in Montreal until I can get my passport, which will hopefully be by Tuesday.

Like so many people, I’ve asked the question, “Where was God in all of this?” And I asked God that question. I felt like the Lord responded, “I was there, through you, and many others who were caring for people.” While that doesn’t answer all of my questions, it did give me a certain sense of peace, in the sense that I am so grateful that I was able to be there to help people in any way, even if it was so little, because there was practically no one there to assist them at that point. Although it was incredibly difficult and horrific, it was worth it to comfort one child, to hold one person’s hand. And I pray that you’d use your resources, your time and your heart to help people inI Haiti as well. I saw the desperate need firsthand, and I implore you to contribute as much as you can. When I get back to New York, I will figure out how I will contribute, and I will keep you all posted about that if you want.

Most of this story has been about what I saw and experienced, because I felt like I needed to share that. I am grateful for the exact location we were when the earthquake hit; everywhere else we could have been/were a few minutes earlier collapsed. Honestly, it's difficult to say that when so many others were crushed. I'm also incredibly grateful for the team of students I was with, and our professor. They worked tirelessly, gave all that they had, were the best comforters you could ask for, and inspired me to keep doing all I could for the people. Please pray for my team's psychological well-being and healing; emotionally, I've been going through waves of intense sadness and then periods of numbness. But the Haitians that remain in Haiti and those who have lost loved ones now need to be the focus of our prayers and efforts. As you've probably seen on the news, they desperately need medical doctors, medical supplies, food, water, and so much more. This is really one of those things where we're going to need everyone's skills and resources, but the efforts have to be well coordinated. Please pray that that would happen and please contribute as much as you can. While I was on the ground, I saw and heard of Partners in Health, the Red Cross, Doctors without Borders, and World Vision doing great work.

But the greatest heroes are honestly the Haitian people. While there’s so much on the news about looting and such, I pray that you would put yourself in their shoes, pray for them, and contribute your resources. I don't understand how people can call it looting when people are starving, have absolutely nothing, and have no other options.But please pray that the violence that has begun can be stopped. I can just say that I saw Haitians digging out strangers, feeding strangers, and doing all they could. Wednesday night, two parents who were there with their injured child chose to go around the entire hospital and ask each person if they’d like prayer. People would come up to tell me about people who were doing really badly, that they didn’t even know. I’ve never seen such strength and compassion in my life, and their prayers are what strengthen me. Again, thank you for all you've done so far, and please do all that you can.

With love,
Gabrielle