Personal report from Haiti

“Time is very limited to write, so pardon short, succint sentences.

Am with "Natan", a NGO umbrella org of which Brit Olam is a part. Named for Abie Nathan. [The late peace activist – ML]

We are the 2nd delegation working with, learning from and in the process of relieving the 1st delegation leaving in a few days - we will continue the work. We are in a refugee camp of 5000 - lots of horrific wounds from the event (now 13 days ago), just now getting attention or follow up from whatever was provided initially. We are not sure of what the local hosp can provide - we provide a lot of treatment normally administered in a hospital - and we are using our skills to the max.

Our delegation is composed of 1 doc, 1 nurse (me), 2 SW's and 1 psych. I am working w/ my friend Dr. B and I must say, we are quite a team - but he is truly incredible, working w/ his French, Creole (which he really doesn't know), German, Yiddish - whatever works. By 1:00 yesterday, he was totally exhausted - from translating complaints and other translations into something we could work with. We make many decisions together on treatment and follow up. We have Sister Marie working w/ us, in her 70,s - a nurse - who really runs this show - triage, guidance and a good dose of Amoxicillan for just about everything (which we try and prevent). She is truly wonderful and introduced us as "miracles from Israel, the land of Moses and Abraham" and led the waiting patients in prayer and song before opening the clinic.

Everyone has lost someone, their entire family, their only child. No one is left unscathed. The loss in souls is unspeakable. Haiti is in rubbles. Shattered. Bodies are still visible on the streets - the stench of bodies not recovered is everywhere - that aspect of recovery not yet begun. People are everywhere, sleeping out in the open in any available space, throngs in the streets, many w/ masks to try and block the smell.

BUT - they are dressed and trying to keep clean and they are grateful and dignified and tremendously resilient. We all feel privileged to be a part of this process in their recovery.

Distribution of foods is very difficult - we don't do that but we hear from colleagues that it is extremely difficult w/ some real disasters in the process - having to leave w/o finishing the distribution or simply having to delay a bit until a safer plan is in place.

We are greeted on the street with much respect and thanks - they know we are from Israel and Israel's contribution is deeply appreciated. At the same time, going out carries what some might consider a risk, but what our group considers privilege: people asking for our help and guidance and organizational assistance - it is a deeply moving experience. They want to help themselves, but on a good day, there was no infrastructure to speak of - and now?

And how am I - I think I'm okay. I felt from the beginning that this was the right thing to do even though I didn't have all the information and not every detail solidly defined - in fact, none of us knew much and we all knew that whatever we thought was going on or going to happen could change in a second. And all of that has been true. And we have coped w/ the chaos that is here, the plans we made that had to be remade and remade, dependency on drivers and interpreters, on each other, the mosquitoes, the flies, 3 hrs of electricity that miraculously now has stretched into a bit more, the "shower" I took this AM (no hot water) on my knees with a little dribble coming out the faucet-whatever - none of it really seems hard. We are in a rented house - I sleep w/ Adi and Adi - we are welcoming 8 Israelis from misrad habituchon (security) to sleep w/ us as well. Reporters from the NY times are staying nearby - it's like a war zone where some of us have found places to stay w/ some semblance of comfort. I have a bed - who imagined?

And yes, the kids are adorable and sweet and run after us. Covered with flies. Beautiful smiles.

I don't know where my feelings or my tears are."