29.4.10

In Haiti's shattered capital, metal scavengers take to the streets


Metal scavenging and salvaging in Haiti
In Port-au-Prince, Haiti, recovery is ongoing and any sense of normal life is still being pursued. To that end, foraging for metal to sell has become a common pursuit for villagers.


LAUNCH PHOTO GALLERY

By Manuel Roig-Franzia
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, April 29, 2010

PORT-AU-PRINCE, HAITI -- They pound concrete. Smash it over and over. Smash it until it powders.

The pounding starts at dawn, when the men with the calloused hands crawl by the hundreds, antlike, over and into the ruins of this broken city, from the toppled old market-houses on the Grand Rue to the humbled schoolhouses of the central city, from the shattered shacks along the waterfront to the crumpled mansions up the hill. You hear them before you see them. Heavy hammers tapping out a beat.

Concrete played the villain's role in the Jan. 12 earthquake drama that savaged Haiti's capital. The city's dominant building material was weak when it should have been strong. The men with the hammers hit the stuff hard, as if exacting a kind of communal revenge, pulverizing a symbol of failure in a search for something more trustworthy.

Embedded in all that concrete are countless tons of steel and iron, there for the taking. Long rods of it, short planks of it. Sprawling, arching loops of it. Metal twisted, but still of value, still suitable to be melted down in China or some other faraway land with the money and means to turn pieces of Haiti into something new. The metal is everywhere. So much of it that Port-au-Prince should be a wonderland for the metal scavengers, the Caribbean conduits for an international scrap-metal market.

Should be.


The metal doesn't come easily, even with hands as strong as Fritz Mesca's. Mesca, a 28-year-old with a wide, flat nose and a worry-lined face that makes him look much older, leads a small band of scavengers. Each morning, they survey the cityscape for opportunity. Sometimes the prospecting takes hours, interrupted by false starts and demoralizing setbacks. Some days, his stumbles come in the form of police shooing him away, accusing him of looting. Sometimes it's rival scavengers, laying claim to entire buildings, even though there's plenty for all.

One time, the youngest of Mesca's three-man crew -- a puckish 14-year-old named Pyrus Jean Rousier -- tried to stand up to a territorial metal man. The sore spot on Rousier's upper right arm is a reminder of that encounter -- the claim was staked with a fist. "He was a big, big guy," Rousier says one afternoon. "It really hurts."

On this day, though, Mesca, Rousier and their friend Wilio Petit-Home find an uncontested hunting ground. And what a spot! A collapsed hardware store holding a trove of metal, not only embedded in the concrete but wedged beneath it. The rumbling earth left the structure a mere skeleton -- brick walls and arches intact -- but the meat of the place collapsed into a lumpy heap of cracked concrete and contorted rebar.

Mesca crushes concrete slabs with heavy hammers and wrests the metal out, straining to rip it away. The concrete, though too flimsy to stand during the quake, clings stubbornly to the metal treasures, unwilling to give them up without a fight. Mesca works so furiously that a concrete dust cloud forms, turning his face ashy white, like the ash-covered office workers fleeing the fallen towers on Sept. 11, 2001.

A fire charred the fallen building where the scavengers work. So when Petit-Home, a 26-year-old with a wispy mustache and sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes, clears a patch of concrete from the upper reaches of the collapsed building, he pulls out a curious sight. There in his hands rests a weighty, basketball-size lump of nails fused together in their bins by the heat into a grotesque form resembling a metallic porcupine. A big score.

Mesca works in bare feet -- his soles sturdier than any tattered flip-flops. He rakes debris with his fingers, sifting handfuls of the concrete he batters for nails and screws. Before the earthquake, Mesca roamed the fetid shoreline of Port-au-Prince's bay and combed its side streets for discarded metal. There were days when he found nothing worth selling. On this day, he finds so much, he's run out of room in the heavy bags he's brought along to carry his haul.

Petit-Home shreds an umbrella he's found into fabric strips that he twists into ties to close his bags of metal. Mesca starts collecting tools, but stops abruptly. He stands and calls out in a loud voice: "Where's the saw?"

He and Mesca all turn to Rousier, who shrinks under their glare, confessing he let another scavenger -- someone he'd never met -- borrow it. While they were distracted by tying the bags, the man -- a graying fellow with a kindly smile -- slipped over the back wall of the shop, and disappeared.

Rousier, nervously, begins to laugh. The saw was his responsibility. Mesca rages at him, but it's hard to stay mad at Rousier long.

"Just because you have pretty teeth doesn't mean you have to laugh!" Mesca says, pointing at Rousier's surprisingly glistening smile. Mesca's own teeth are stained and chipped, but Rousier was blessed with straight, bright choppers and parents who were not so poor that they couldn't afford toothbrushes.

Rousier tries changing the subject. Faintly, he says, "My heart is hurting. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I haven't had anything to eat since this morning." His pals don't even look up.

Out on the street, they assemble their loot: three heavy, waist-high bags of metal and a gangly pile of rusted rebar and scraps. It's too unwieldy to carry, so they wait in the shade of a building with Doric columns, now only a shell, a relic of pre-earthquake Port-au-Prince, but one with an air of shabby dignity. Twenty minutes pass before a spindly man comes along pushing a wheelbarrow. He agrees to be their hauler.

Rousier trudges alongside the overstuffed wheelbarrow. He struggles with a half-dozen six-foot-long bands of rebar slung over his right shoulder, flopping dangerously on the crowded street. He can't help but look around, distracted by the vendors selling cooking oil and the mashed vegetable stew called "legume," the rum stands and the ubiquitous lottery shops where impoverished Haitians place tiny quixotic bets. A woman bends at the waist, just avoiding being slashed by Rousier's bars. She yells at him and he drops his load.

The street clogs with tap-taps, the top-heavy, wildly painted pickup trucks with covered benches welded on the back. These serve as this city's main form of public transportation. Each is painted with a message, often in foot-tall letters: "Thank you Jesus," "Man proposes, God disposes," "God of Love," "Mercy."

Ten feet more and Rousier drops his load again.

They pass smoldering garbage piles, where rotting fruit mixes with burning plastic, kicking off a toxic haze.

Rousier drops his load for the third time. Finally the wheelbarrow guy comes to his rescue, heaping Rousier's tangle of rebar on top of an already wobbly pile.

An hour of stops and starts later, they wearily pull off along the roadside, where 20-foot-high piles of metal stretch the length of a typical city block. There's hollow tubing, metal boxes, girders, door frames, posts, window grates, scaffolding, a lacy screen door, a fan, a purple bicycle frame. Smaller piles conjure Gothic public art, abstract forms that take on emotional power.

To weigh the metal, the owner of this enterprise, a sour 24-year-old woman with a do-rag on her head and named Christa Rene, has dangled the screen of an electric frame, now serving as a weighing tray, from a swing set. The swing set balances on cinder blocks to get extra height. She will send the metal to a plant several miles away, where it will be compacted, stuffed into cargo containers and loaded onto ships.

The weighing and negotiating do not go well for Mesca's crew, who worked six hours in wilting heat to get to this point. Mesca is illiterate, and Rene's calculations confuse him. She imposes rules he's never heard of: less money for the first 60 kilos than the second, less money for the nails. Always less money. Bewildered, Mesca accepts her offer: 420 Haitian gourdes, the equivalent of $12. It's only two-thirds what he would have made before the quake, when there was less supply but the same demand.

And he won't keep much of it. The missing saw, borrowed from a friend, is going to cost him $2. The wheelbarrow guy gets $2. That leaves about $4 for Mesca, and $2 each for Rousier, Petit-Home and a fourth member of their crew who had to leave before they packed up. As soon as the money is in his hands, Mesca spends the equivalent of 50 cents -- one-eighth of his payday -- on an armful of plastic pouches of water, his first refreshment of the day. The temperature tops 90 degrees, but the water evokes cooler climes -- it's called Eau de Alaska.

Mesca feels good. He walks another hour to the huge encampment he's called home since the quake destroyed his house, killing his mother, a sister and an aunt. Along the way, he dreams modest dreams. If he could just get a little more money together, he would buy a motorcycle and start a sidewalk business selling clothes. But he knows the money he made today will be gone within minutes of his arrival. There's a girlfriend and son to support, and relatives to feed. Even though he's making a little, they'll still need handouts from relief groups to survive.

Navigating the labyrinth of tents, he steps past an elderly woman, naked to the waist, soaping herself without a hint of self-consciousness. A vendor sells edible brown patties called "Dirt," a favorite in Haitian slums, made of mud flavored heavily with salt. Finally, he gets to the 10-by-15-foot handmade shack he shares with six relatives, including an infant born to his cousin several hours before the quake. The walls are bedsheets fastened to wooden posts with nails punched through bottle caps. It's a grim existence, but better than their neighbors'. Mesca's door is made of corrugated metal.

God's house, man's sin


It's dusk on Rue St. Martin in Bel Air, a cramped, rough section of downtown Port-au-Prince where the gutters are filled with a gray, oozy slime. Since 7 a.m., Mathurin Lafontant has been picking at the remnants of his church.

Down below, beneath the concrete, lie the bodies of his friends, Rose Amicie Milorne and Issionesse Fontus. Long ago, the faithful gave up trying to find the women. They had been the guiding lights of the small Methodist church's women's association, but their spiritual home is now their grave site.

Lafontant is a tall, thin 47-year-old man with intense black eyes, long arms and long fingers. He and his friend, another churchgoer named Wilbien Valcin, race against the fading light. They've pounded enough concrete to expose 30 feet of intricately laced rebar and metal-support beams, which they hope to stash away before dark.

Using a set of rented pliers, Valcin, a 36-year-old whose toes stick through gaping holes in his high-tops, has spent hours untwisting the metal straps that hold the long strands of rebar to the heavier metal-support beams. It's as if he were deboning an enormous fish.

While they work, Lafontant frets to Valcin that the earthquake was a sign that "Jesus Christ is coming." The men are enraptured by their talk of Judgment Day. They are slow to notice the thickly built man with dreadlocks and a yellow basketball jersey who steps over the broken roof and jumps into the church's courtyard. The new arrival considers the scene before him, pacing with a confident swagger.

"You need to stop!" he says, startling Lafontant and Valcin.

"No, we're not," Lafontant calls down, and keeps tugging.

Within minutes, four other men strut into the churchyard, lining up alongside the man in the basketball jersey. One of them, a stocky shirtless man waving a sloshing plastic cup of clairin -- a clear, highly potent type of rum popular in the city's slums -- clambers onto the roof. He teeters uncertainly, woozy from the drink. Now he's in Lafontant's face.

"You're nothing to the church," the drunk man says. "Nothing! We took care of the church after the earthquake. We're the ones."

A crowd is forming outside the gate. Even the roosters, tied to a post nearby, are riled up. Their crowing competes with the escalating argument.

Another of the interlopers, cutting a lean sinewy figure, points his finger menacingly at Lafontant. His hands are clean and he wears a chunky gold ring, in the style of high school class rings, that says "LOVE." He says his name is Evens. He has a kind of stage presence, and he waits until everyone has stopped to look at him.

"We live in this area," Evens says to Lafontant. "We're going to fight for this metal."

Valcin, sensing trouble, untwists the final metal strap and drags one of eight long strands of steel up the side of the collapsed church, farther from the argument. The drunk man scrambles up after him, brusquely taking hold of the other end of the strand and yanking it out of Valcin's hands.

An official from the church appears from a doorway of the lone building still standing in the small complex. He pleads with the thugs, saying Lafontant and Valcin have been here since early in the morning and deserve the metal they've extracted.

"We can ne-gooo-tiate," Evens says coolly. "We want two pieces."

Lafontant is appalled. Two of the long strands of metal would amount to one-fourth of their treasure, he pleads. His voice shifts from confrontational to conciliatory as it becomes clear to him that he is dealing with neighborhood thugs who might be lethal.

Evens turns to the half-dozen people now watching through the bars on the churchyard's remaining wall.

Calmly, he makes eye contact with each spectator.

"No one around here," he says softly but firmly, "can do anything without my permission."

Flummoxed, Lafontant and Valcin freeze. The man in the basketball jersey mounts the rubble pile with two other men in tow. They reach down, clasping two long metal pieces -- the thugs' cut of the action. They drag the metal away. The drunk man laughs.

washingtonpost

28.4.10

Wyclef: Haiti's gov't should stress education

April 28, 2010

SAN JUAN, Puerto Rico – Haiti's government should emphasize education to help the country recover from its devastating earthquake, Wyclef Jean said Wednesday.

The Haitian-born singer and producer said in an interview with The Associated Press that the government and nonprofit organizations should focus on raising the impoverished country's literacy rate, which stands at 50 percent in a population of 9 million.

"If we're going to get to the 21st century, I don't know how we're going to do that with a population who can't read or write," he said.

The quake's devastation "gives Haiti a new slate," he said. "We have to think strategic on how we deal with the situation on a level beyond emotions."

Jean, whose Yele Haiti Foundation is helping with earthquake relief efforts, spoke a day before his scheduled performance at the Billboard Latin Music Awards in Puerto Rico.

He shrugged aside widespread rumors that he might one day run for president of Haiti, saying that's not part of his plans.

"If I take a job being a president, I can't do as much as I'm doing for my country," said Jean, who organized an all-star telethon after the quake that organizers said raised $66 million.

Jean said Haiti needs stronger leadership, but he avoided direct criticism of President Rene Preval, who was barely seen in public in the days after the Jan. 12 quake that killed an estimated 230,000 people and left 1.3 million homeless.

"I can't criticize President Preval. He did what he could with what he had in his hands. It's always debatable: Could he have done more? Said more?"

Jean said he is going to Haiti in two weeks to help build temporary shelters for earthquake survivors — a happier task than the one he faced on his first trip home after the quake.

"I was on the ground picking up dead bodies," he said.

yahoo

26.4.10

Good camp, bad camp: The shortfalls of Haiti aid

Associated Press
CROIX-DES-BOUQUETS, Haiti

April 25, 2010

CROIX-DES-BOUQUETS, Haiti (AP) — You name it, Camp Corail has got it. And Camp Obama does not.

The organized relocation camp at Corail-Cesselesse has thousands of spacious, hurricane-resistant tents on groomed, graded mountain soil. The settlement three miles (four kilometers) down the road — named after the U.S. president in hopes of getting attention from foreigners — has leaky plastic tarps and wooden sticks pitched on a muddy slope.

Corail has a stocked U.N. World Food Program warehouse for its 3,000-and-counting residents; the more than 8,500 at Camp Obama are desperate for food and water. Corail's entrance is guarded by U.N. peacekeepers and Haitian police. Camp Obama's residents put up a Haitian flag to mark their empty security tent.

The camps, neighbors in the foothills of a treeless mountain, are a diptych of the uneven response to Haiti's Jan. 12 earthquake. More than $12.7 billion has been pledged by foreign governments, agencies and organizations, including $2.8 billion for humanitarian response and another $9.9 billion promised at the March 31 U.N. donors conference.

In one camp, which dignitaries and military commanders visit by helicopter, those billions are on display. A short hop down the road, they barely register.

"We've heard the foreigners have given a lot of aid money. But we're still living the same way as before, and we're still dying the same way as before," said Duverny Nelmeus, a 52-year-old welder-turned Camp Obama resident-coordinator.

Haiti's needs are still enormous, but more than 100 days after the quake, the plan for dealing with them is unclear. Even the death toll is confusing: Government estimates hovered around 230,000 until the U.N. donors conference when, without explanation, the total jumped to 300,000.

There are officially 1.3 million people displaced by the magnitude-7 earthquake. Hundreds of thousands have massed in settlement camps that, like Camp Obama, sprouted with little or no planning. These Haitians live in makeshift tarp homes and shanties, govern their affairs with self-formed security committees and make do with whatever aid arrives.

It was said early on that nearly all the displaced needed to be moved ahead of the arriving rainy season to carefully planned camps like Corail. But it took months to procure land.

By March, aid officials decided instead that people should start going home, saying thousands of houses are still habitable or can be repaired.

It was even better, they said, for most to stay where they were: Agencies deemed just 37,000 people in nine camps at high risk for flash floods, said Shaun Scales of the International Organization for Migration.

But many people are not moving, nor do they want to stay where they are.

Persistent aftershocks and rumors of more to come — President Rene Preval warned of an impending earthquake at a news conference this month — are keeping people from going back. Private landowners and schools are threatening to evict squatters. Those who remain are suffering.

What they want is a better option. And for a few lucky people, right now, that's Corail. The product of a coordinated effort by aid agencies, the United Nations, the U.S. military, the Haitian government and other entities, it has sprung up seemingly overnight on a cactus patch where the Cite Soleil slum meets the suburb of Croix-des-Bouquets.

There was little here but a few concrete homes, disorganized camps and brush until a few weeks ago, when Preval announced that the government would seize — with compensation for the owners — 18,500 acres (7,490 hectares) of the arid land.

Authorities began moving people in immediately, even before services were in place. Croix-des-Bouquets officials say they were unprepared for the onslaught. Aid groups Oxfam, World Vision and CARE criticized the rush as violating human dignity.

Now ecstatic arrivals are streaming in aboard air-conditioned buses, clutching laminated ID cards with maps of the settlement, wearing green bracelets bearing their names. Nearly all come from the most famous camp in post-quake Port-au-Prince: the Petionville Club golf course, home to 45,000 quake survivors, elements of the U.S. Army 82nd Airborne and a gaggle of Hollywood volunteers led by Sean Penn.

Aid workers lead the smiling tenants to their Chinese-made cylindrical tents, pointing out the floodlights, the police tent and where the 342 toilets and 24 showers are being built.

The plan is to stage about 6,000 people here along the 50-acre (20-hectare) "Sector 4" as the rainy season gets under way, even while U.N. trucks, U.S. Navy engineers and aid groups continue construction. Then they will start building sturdier shelters of wood, plastic and metal in adjacent Sectors 2 and 3.

There's no word yet on what will be built in Sector 1, but locals are expecting some major development. Concrete homes and stores are also being built around the new camp.

Manushka Lindor, 23, is among the lucky. She sat in the shady tent with her 3-year-old son, Peterson St. Louis Jr., who squealed "Vroom! Vroom!" as the big construction trucks went by. Just a few hours after arrival, she was already planning to stay.

"I don't have anywhere else to live. If they come here and build a house I can rent, I'd be very satisfied," she said.

Her husband, Peterson St. Louis Sr., pushed a green wheelbarrow full of welcome bounty: a week of ready-to-eat meals for the whole family and hygiene kits with soap, toothpaste, toilet paper and sanitary napkins.

They had been living in the golf-course camp, dealing with crime, mud and danger. One day, Lindor said, a water truck slid backward into a tent and killed two people.

Their new home offers quiet, assistance and a chance for a fresh start. St. Louis, a 27-year-old barber, is setting up shop in the back of the tent with an office chair and a car battery to charge his electric clippers.

Outside it is a different story. Roads are cracked, and rubble lines the route. Twisted webs of steel rebar lie in heaps, collected by residents sick of waiting for help and now setting out to rebuild on their own. Police cars pull over by the side of the road to buy pirated gasoline amid fuel shortages.

In Camp Obama, the help has been spotty and often ineffective. Almost everyone has at least one plastic tarp, the "emergency shelter material," in aid-worker parlance, that was a focus of relief efforts in the months after the quake. But those are leaking and falling apart.

Nobody remembers what aid group came when — the parade of foreigners becomes a blur. Someone left a rubber bladder to hold drinking water, another a black tank for the same. Both are broken and empty.

"We'd thank God for a glass of water," Nelmeus said.

Cuban doctors have come and provided anti-malarial and other medicines, as did some Americans. But while Corail's hospital tent is fully staffed, Camp Obama's is usually empty. Nelmeus' two children are sick with fever and awaiting treatment.

They cannot go to Corail, where organizers rejected a request by the Croix-des-Bouquets mayor to take in 10,000 homeless squatting on land in his town.

Corail's organizers worry about the discrepancy.

Camp leaders told U.S. Southern Command chief Gen. Douglas Fraser on Wednesday that they have ruled out fences but are debating stepped-up patrols or other measures to keep aid-seeking neighbors out.

Obama residents said they had nothing to worry about: Getting into a better camp isn't their goal.

"The better life is in America. If I went there, I would look like a young man. I would dance," Nelmeus said.

___

Associated Press Writer Frank Bajak contributed to this story.

foxnews

25.4.10

Haiti earthquake toll up to 300,000, says UN report
From correspondents in Port-au-Prince

From: AFP April 23, 2010 10:15AM

HAITI'S devastating January 12 earthquake killed between 250,000 and 300,000 people, the head of the United Nations mission in the country says.
Until now, the Haitian government death toll was more than 220,000.

April 21 "marked the 100th day since the devastating earthquake that struck Haiti, leaving between 250,000 and 300,000 people dead," said Edmond Mulet, the head of the UN mission in Haiti.

Mr Mulet also said that 300,000 people were wounded in the disaster, and more than one million people were left homeless.

The 7.0-magnitude quake left much of Haiti's capital Port-au-Prince in ruins, destroying infrastructure and the seat of government and causing a humanitarian catastrophe in a country already considered the poorest in the Americas.

Mr Mulet, speaking at a press conference, said that he wants the UN Security Council to send an extra 800 police officers to provide safety in the refugee camps.

"In the history of humanity one has never seen a natural disaster of this dimension," he said, adding that the Haiti quake death toll was twice the toll of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima at the end of World War II.

Mr Mulet said that the next 12 to 18 months will be "critical", noting that peacekeepers in the UN Stabilisation Mission in Haiti (MINUSTAH) will focus on five areas: helping support the government organise quick elections, coordinate "post-disaster" humanitarian aid, provide general security, support the Haitian government in carrying out its reconstruction plan, and "help Haiti rebuild its human capital".

Concerning security, Mr Mulet said MINUSTAH forces will help the Haitian National Police have "a more visible presence" to help the tens of thousands of people living in 1200 refugee camps.

Mr Mulet, a native of Guatemala, took over the UN mission on March 31, replacing Tunisian Hedi Annabi, who was killed in the quake. If the Security Council accepts his recommendations, the overall number of UN police in Haiti will rise to 4391.

When the MINUSTAH peacekeeping soldiers are also counted - though Mr Mulet has not asked for an increase in this force - the total UN force would reach 13,300 supported by more than 2000 civilians.

Separately, he said the Haitian government on Thursday ordered a three-week moratorium on the forced evacuation of refugees camping out on private land, schools or markets. For nearly two weeks, the authorities and private property owners have urged people squatting on their property to leave.

More than 7000 people who took refuge at the Port-au-Prince stadium were moved out 10 days ago, and last week some 10,000 Haitians living in a school were ordered out.

"There are students that want to return to their schools to continue their studies, and there are refugees living in the schools. So in order to avoid clashes, a moratorium was established," Mr Mulet said.

UN officials have opened two refugee camps on the outskirts of Port-au-Prince in order to accept some 10,000 refugees currently in danger of being affected by flooding as the Caribbean rainy season is set to begin.

Mr Mulet also said that Haiti "is going on the right path" towards reconstruction, and that he was showing "prudent optimism". He also urged people to "not underestimate the size of the task and the challenges that Haiti faces".

heraldsun

23.4.10

Haiti Wants Food Aid to Stop?
Government Says Generous Public Outpouring Is Interfering with Economy, Drawing Non-Victims to Camps and Enticing Corruption

April 21, 2010


U.S. Army Pvt. Dylan Los Huertos of the 82nd Airborne Division gives a thumbs-up to women who received bags of rice during a food distribution operation by an aid organization in Port-au-Prince, Jan 31, 2010

(CBS) Of all the things you've heard about earthquake aid to Haiti, here's something you probably didn't know: Haiti's government wants large-scale food assistance and free health care to stop.

If it's news to you, it was to CBS News too, when Katie Couric recently visited Haiti and spoke to Erin Boyd, a nutrition aide for UNICEF. Boyd disagrees with cutting back on aid, but told why it's being done.

"When you continue having a lot of food distributions, you lower the price of food so that people can't trade, and it disrupts markets, basically," Boyd said.

In other words, CBS News correspondent Sharyl Attkisson reports, there may be such a thing as too much help. The public outpouring is so generous it's interfering with the Haitian economy.

If food is free local farmers can't sell what they grow.

Desperately poor residents who aren't earthquake victims are moving into refugee camps for the free food and health care. But the government wants residents to be less dependent on foreign aid, not more.

Susan Reichle is with USAID, the U.S. agency that distributes foreign aid. It's already spent $562 million on Haiti relief.

"As they've requested that these large-scale food distributions end as well as some of the large-scale programs which are really pulling people into the camps, we're working with them. We're in complete agreement with them on this point," Reichle said.

Pulling back on aid means something a lot of American donors might find unthinkable. Even as many go without meals, relief food that's already made it to Haiti is now being sent to warehouses for future disasters. USAID calls it "prepositioning."

The Long Road Back: More Coverage

Help to Haiti "Not Good Enough"
The Struggle to Rebuild
The Long Road Back for Haiti's Children

The World Food Programme - the food aid branch of the U.N. - also tells CBS News it's scaling back food aid at the request of the Haiti government, "repositioning" food for future disasters.

The shift away from free food on a massive scale has been done quietly in Haiti and it has opened a can of worms. Relief officials who need to keep donations flowing worry that once word gets out, people will be less likely to give. Others say donations meant for earthquake relief shouldn't now be used for something else.

As of today, total donations to Haiti meet and exceed the biggest estimates of how much it will cost to rebuild - up to $14 billion. The record-breaking Hope for Haiti Telethon in January brought in more than $66 million. That's part of the $4 billion raised by non-government groups and charities. The U.S. government has given more than $1 billion and has pledged another billion-plus. Other countries and world bodies have pledged $8.75 billion over two years. That's $14.9 billion and counting.

With all that aid pouring in, some worry that it will feed corrupt and criminal elements rather than the needy. There are reports of gangs intercepting aid and selling food on the black market with impunity from high-ranking officials.

It's just one example of the complexities in play when trying to help the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere. There's money in the pipeline and food being sent to warehouses, while hundreds of thousands go hungry.

cbsnews

19.4.10

Luck of the draw for kebab-seller who hadn't heard of U2



The doodles are expected to fetch between € 2-3,000 at auction.


The series of sketches, drawn at a takeaway, is called 'Bono Hanging With the Five Lamp Boys'.

By Ken Sweeney


Friday April 16 2010

DOODLES drawn by U2 singer Bono in a Dublin kebab shop are expected to fetch from €2,000-€3,000 at auction later this month.

The three sketches, done on an A4 notepad the take-away used to write down orders and including a self-portrait of Bono, are expected to attract bids from as far away as US, Japan and Australia.

According to the auction list, the series 'Bono Hanging with the Five Lamp Boys' dates back to 1989 when U2, then one of the biggest selling bands on the planet, entered a kebab house in Dublin's North Strand.

"A friend of Bono's owned the kebab shop and U2 were such regular visitors, Bono was allowed behind the counter to make his own kebabs. What happened that night was there was a new member of staff on who failed to recognise U2.

"When Bono tried to get behind the counter, this guy thought he was trying to rob the place," Ian Whyte, managing director of Whyte's and Sons Auctioneers, told the Irish Independent.

Incredibly the man, in his thirties, told the group he had "never heard of U2".

This fact so amazed Bono that he began drawing on a nearby notepad which he then gave to the kebab seller.

"The guy really hadn't heard of U2 and was more of an Elvis fan," added Mr Whyte.

The drawings, which include a greeting to the man's wife's: "Kathleen is swell, Bono is well 89", have been in the possession of the man -- who wished to remain anonymous -- ever since, until earlier this year when he looked into having them auctioned off.

'Bono Hanging with the Five Lamp Boys' will be part of Whyte's next auction taking place in Molesworth Street on Friday April 23.

- Ken Sweeney

Irish Independent

independent
US military to stand down in Haiti around June 1: general


Haitian earthquake victims shake hands with a US Marine in Leogan on January 20, following a massive 7.0-magnitude quake that shattered the country. The US military will end its disaster relief mission in Haiti around June 1, nearly six months after sending in thousands of troops in the wake of a devastating earthquake that killed an estimated 220,000 people, a senior officer said Monday.


1 hr 55 mins ago
WASHINGTON (AFP) – The US military will end its disaster relief mission in Haiti around June 1, nearly six months after sending in thousands of troops in the wake of a devastating earthquake that killed an estimated 220,000 people, a senior officer said Monday.

Lieutenant General P.K. Keen, the deputy commander of the US Southern Command, said there were currently about 2,200 US troops deployed in Haiti, down from 22,000 in February at the peak of a massive international aid effort in the weeks that followed the January 12 earthquake.

"I expect us to -- on or about 1 June -- to be able to stand down the joint task force," Keen told reporters in Washington.

"We will be able to do that because of the capability that's being built up and has built up by civilian organizations, whether it be USAID's increasing capacity, but, more so, the increasing capacity of non-government organizations that are really running much of the humanitarian assistance efforts within the country."

About 500 US national guard and reservists will remain in Haiti after that, taking part in disaster relief efforts, he said.

For the moment, the US soldiers deployed in Haiti will focus on moving displaced persons from tent camps to areas that offer greater protection against the onset of the rainy season, he said.

"It?s a work in progress and there?s no mistake that obviously the rainy season and hurricane season is approaching, and living in a tent during a hurricane is not optimal," he said.

Keen said the security situation in Haiti "remains calm" despite isolated incidents of violence.

yahoo

************************************************************************************

Haiti, Three Months Later


Most of the tents are not waterproof. As the rainy season progresses, experts predict an increase in wet, muddy conditions leading to increased mosquito breeding and associated mosquito-borne illnesses like malaria and dengue fever.

cbsnews

18.4.10

Op-Ed Guest Columnist
Africa Reboots


By BONO
Published: April 17, 2010

I SPENT March with a delegation of activists, entrepreneurs and policy wonks roaming western, southern and eastern Africa trying very hard to listen — always hard for a big-mouthed Irishman. With duct tape over my gob, I was able to pick up some interesting melody lines everywhere from palace to pavement ...


Calef Brown

Despite the almost deafening roar of excitement about Africa’s hosting of soccer’s World Cup this summer, we managed to hear a surprising thing. Harmony ... flowing from two sides that in the past have often been discordant: Africa’s emerging entrepreneurial class and its civil-society activists.

It’s no secret that lefty campaigners can be cranky about business elites. And the suspicion is mutual. Worldwide. Civil society as a rule sees business as, well, a little uncivil. Business tends to see activists as, well, a little too active. But in Africa, at least from what I’ve just seen, this is starting to change. The energy of these opposing forces coming together is filling offices, boardrooms and bars. The reason is that both these groups — the private sector and civil society — see poor governance as the biggest obstacle they face. So they are working together on redefining the rules of the African game.

Entrepreneurs know that even a good relationship with a bad government stymies foreign investment; civil society knows a resource-rich country can have more rather than fewer problems, unless corruption is tackled.

This joining of forces is being driven by some luminous personalities, few of whom are known in America; all of whom ought to be. Let me introduce you to a few of the catalysts:

John Githongo, Kenya’s famous whistleblower, has had to leave his country in a hurry a couple of times; he was hired by his government to clean things up and then did his job too well. He’s now started a group called Inuka, teaming up the urban poor with business leaders, creating inter-ethnic community alliances to fight poverty and keep watch on dodgy local governments. He is the kind of leader who gives many Kenyans hope for the future, despite the shakiness of their coalition government.

Sharing a table with Githongo and me one night in Nairobi was DJ Rowbow, a Mike Tyson doppelgänger. His station, Ghetto Radio, was a voice of reason when the volcano of ethnic tension was exploding in Kenya in 2008. While some were encouraging the people of Kibera, one of the largest slums in Africa, to go on the rampage, this scary-looking man decoded the disinformation and played peacemaker/interlocutor. On the station’s playlist is Bob Marley and a kind of fizzy homespun reggae music that’s part the Clash, part Marvin Gaye. The only untruthful thing he said all evening was that he liked U2. For my part, I might have overplayed the Jay-Z and Beyoncé card. “They are friends of mine,” I explained to him, eh, a lot.

Now this might be what you expect me to say, but I’m telling you, it was a musician in Senegal who best exemplified the new rules. Youssou N’Dour — maybe the greatest singer on earth — owns a newspaper and is in the middle of a complicated deal to buy a TV station. You sense his strategy and his steel. He is creating the soundtrack for change, and he knows just how to use his voice. (I tried to imagine what it would be like if I owned The New York Times as well as, say, NBC. Someday, someday...)

In Maputo, Mozambique, I met with Activa, a women’s group that, among other things, helps entrepreneurs get seed capital. Private and public sectors mixed easily here, under the leadership of Luisa Diogo, the country’s former prime minister, who is now the matriarch in this mesmerizing stretch of eastern Africa. Famous for her Star Wars hairdo and political nous, she has the lioness energy of an Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, a Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala or a Graça Machel.

When I met with Ms. Diogo and her group, the less famous but equally voluble women in the room complained about excessive interest rates on their microfinance loans and the lack of what they called “regional economic integration.” For them, infrastructure remains the big (if unsexy) issue. “Roads, we need roads,” one entrepreneur said by way of a solution to most of the obstacles in her path. Today, she added, “we women, we are the roads.” I had never thought of it that way but because women do most of the farming, they’re the ones who carry produce to market, collect the water and bring the sick to the clinics.

The true star of the trip was a human hurricane: Mo Ibrahim, a Sudanese entrepreneur who made a fortune in mobile phones.

I fantasized about being the boy wonder to his Batman, but as we toured the continent together I quickly realized I was Alfred, Batman’s butler. Everywhere we went, I was elbowed out of the way by young and old who wanted to get close to the rock star reformer and his beautiful, frighteningly smart daughter, Hadeel, who runs Mo’s foundation and is a chip off the old block (in an Alexander McQueen dress). Mo’s speeches are standing-room-only because even when he is sitting down, he’s a standing-up kind of person. In a packed hall in the University of Ghana, he was a prizefighter, removing his tie and jacket like a cape, punching young minds into the future.

His brainchild, the Ibrahim Prize, is a very generous endowment for African leaders who serve their people well and then — and this is crucial — leave office when they are supposed to. Mo has diagnosed a condition he calls “third-termitis,” where presidents, fearing an impoverished superannuation, feather their nests on the way out the door. So Mo has prescribed a soft landing for great leaders. Not getting the prize is as big a story as getting it. (He doesn’t stop at individuals. The Ibrahim Index ranks countries by quality of governance.)

Mo smokes a pipe and refers to everyone as “guys” — as in, “Listen, guys, if these problems are of our own making, the solutions will have to be, too.” Or, in my direction, “Guys, if you haven’t noticed ... you are not African.” Oh, yeah. And: “Guys, you Americans are lazy investors. There’s so much growth here but you want to float in the shallow water of the Dow Jones or Nasdaq.”

Mr. Ibrahim is as searing about corruption north of the Equator as he is about corruption south of it, and the corruption that crosses over ... illicit capital flight, unfair mining contracts, the aid bureaucracy.

So I was listening. Good for me. But did I actually learn anything?

OVER long days and nights, I asked Africans about the course of international activism. Should we just pack it up and go home, I asked? There were a few nods. But many more noes. Because most Africans we met seemed to feel the pressing need for new kinds of partnerships, not just among governments, but among citizens, businesses, the rest of us. I sense the end of the usual donor-recipient relationship.

Aid, it’s clear, is still part of the picture. It’s crucial, if you have H.I.V. and are fighting for your life, or if you are a mother wondering why you can’t protect your child against killers with unpronounceable names or if you are a farmer who knows that new seed varietals will mean you have produce that you can take to market in drought or flood. But not the old, dumb, only-game-in-town aid — smart aid that aims to put itself out of business in a generation or two. “Make aid history” is the objective. It always was. Because when we end aid, it’ll mean that extreme poverty is history. But until that glorious day, smart aid can be a reforming tool, demanding accountability and transparency, rewarding measurable results, reinforcing the rule of law, but never imagining for a second that it’s a substitute for trade, investment or self-determination.

I for one want to live to see Mo Ibrahim’s throw-down prediction about Ghana come true. “Yes, guys,” he said, “Ghana needs support in the coming years, but in the not-too-distant future it can be giving aid, not receiving it; and you, Mr. Bono, can just go there on your holidays.”

I’m booking that ticket.

In South Africa, with Madiba, the great Nelson Mandela — the person who, along with Desmond Tutu and the Edge, I consider to be my boss — I raised the question of regional integration through the African Development Bank, and the need for real investment in infrastructure ... all the buzzwords. As Madiba smiled, I made a note to try not to talk about this stuff down at the pub — or in front of the band.

“And you, are you not going to the World Cup?” the great man chided me, changing the subject, having seen this wide-eyed zealotry before. “You are getting old and you are going to miss a great coming-out party for Africa.” The man who felt free before he was is still the greatest example of what real leadership can accomplish against the odds.

My family and I headed home ... just in time, I was getting carried away. I was going native, aroused by the thought of railroads and cement mixers, of a different kind of World Cup fever, of opposing players joining the same team, a new formation, new tactics. For those of us in the fan club, I came away amazed (as I always am) by the diversity of the continent ... but with a deep sense that the people of Africa are writing up some new rules for the game.


Bono, the lead singer of the band U2 and a co-founder of the advocacy group ONE and (Product)RED, is a contributing columnist for The Times.

nytimes
Bill Clinton: Haiti's future will be violent if international community doesn't stay involved

1 hour, 16 minutes ago


By Matt Sedensky, The Associated Press


CORAL GABLES, Fla. - Former President Bill Clinton downplayed the possibility of corruption sidetracking rebuilding in earthquake-devastated Haiti, but said Saturday the international community must remain involved to stave off the potential of future violence.


Talking to reporters at a meeting of the Clinton Global Initiative at the University of Miami, the president said Haiti has the best chance in his lifetime of becoming a self-sustaining nation, but cautioned against complacency.


"We know one thing for sure: If you like the gunfight that's going on in northwest Mexico, you will love Haiti ten years from now," he said. "If that's what thrills you - this horrible chaos from Monterrey to the border, you will just love Haiti if you walk away from it."


Clinton said he loved Haiti and its people, and was truly optimistic the country could be rebuilt.


"I'm 63 years old. Do you think I'd commit the next five years of my life to working down there if I thought it was a losing enterprise?" he asked.


He urged continued vigilance in spending on Haiti to "hold us all accountable."


Asked about the 10th anniversary next week of the raid on the home of Elian Gonzalez, the Cuban boy who was found floating off the coast of Florida and prompted an international custody battle, Clinton said he wouldn't do anything different.


"I did everything I could to try to have this resolved in a peaceful way," he said. "The law in America and the international law was as clear as day."


The boy was returned to Cuba after federal agents, guns drawn, raided the Little Havana home where he was staying and seized him. Clinton acknowledged he "hated what happened" but said "if there is a law, we have to apply it even when we don't like the results."

yahoo

17.4.10

Philo v Bono: who is Irish rock's greatest frontman?
Ed Power picks our Top 10 singers of all time


Few can argue with Bono's drive and Thin Lizzy's Phil Lynott was central to the band's appeal.

By Ed Power


Thursday April 15 2010

Gobby uber-lad Liam Gallagher has been voted the world's greatest rock and roll frontman by readers of a British music magazine. The swaggering Mancunian beat Bono, John Lennon, Freddie Mercury and Jim Morrison to top the Q poll.

"There is Elvis and me. I couldn't say which of the two is best," was the reaction of the characteristically humble Liam.

Asked the secret to his charms as a singer, Gallagher, perhaps less than seriously, suggested: "Behaving yourself and not jumping around like a ***."

Scanning the Q list, you will be as struck by those who failed to reach the Top 10 as by who made the cut. While there is space for Blur's Damon Albarn and Muse's Matt Bellamy -- whose chief claim would seem to be his ability to simultaneously shriek and batter a guitar -- Mick Jagger is relegated to 13. And that's ahead of Morrissey, Bruce Springsteen and Robert Plant.

The always smackable Chris Martin, meanwhile, is at five. Is Q telling us that the whiney chap from Coldplay is a finer frontman than the leaders of The Rolling Stones, The Smiths and Led Zeppelin? Really?

Not surprisingly, the poll has been contentious. Kasabian's Tom Meighan who, according to Q, rates above The Clash's Joe Strummer, agrees that Martin's vaulted placing is a bit farcical. "Chris Martin is all right if you're 35 and feeling sad that your mortgage repayments have gone up," said the singer (29). "But Liam is the voice you want if you're young and free and up for anything."

Bono was second in the poll. Presumably, Q readers didn't dare rank him any lower, perhaps for fear that he would release another album as bad as No Line On The Horizon. Not counting Englishmen of Irish extraction such as Gallagher and Morrissey, he was the only Irish person on the list (come to think of it, non-British singers in general were under-represented). Which prompts the question: who would feature on a list of the greatest ever Irish frontmen?

Obviously, it depends on how you define 'greatest'. If you mean 'most influential', then it's hard to look beyond Bono. Gushing, preachy, larger-than-life Mr Hewson set the mould for a new breed of rock singer. Chris Martin, The Killers' Brandon Flowers and Snow Patrol's Gary Lightbody are just marching in his footsteps.

Incidentally, if you're perplexed by the omission of The Pogues' Shane MacGowan, bear in mind he was born and largely raised in the UK, making him no more Irish than Liam Gallagher or Morrissey or indeed Kasabian's Meighan (whose grandfather is from Mayo).

Controversially, we are also leaving out Ronan Keating (well, wouldn't you?). Furthermore, like Q, we are taking the notion of frontman literally -- meaning no ladies and no solo artists.


Phil Lynott

Thin Lizzy's stock has soared to the point where they are now regarded as one of the most influential bands of the 70s. Everyone from Metallica to The Cardigans has proclaimed themselves fans.

Lynott was obviously central to Lizzy's appeal. More than that, his twinkling gypsy charm marked him out as a rock icon for the ages. His statue on Harry Street has become a place of pilgrimage for touring bands passing through Dublin.


Bono

Granted, lots about the U2 singer raises the hackles. The sermonising, the mid-Atlantic drawl, the way he insists on wearing sunglasses indoors (if we promise to dim the lights, will you at least consider taking them off, Bono?).

Still, there's no denying his influence. Bono was the driving force as U2 conquered the globe.


Liam Clancy

For sure, the trembly-lipped warblings of Tommy Makem and The Clancy Brothers came to be synonymous with Green Guinness 'Oirishness'.

They also convinced the population of the United States that we in the 'old country' all wore enormous Aran sweaters.

Setting such reservations aside, the Clancys were among the first Irish artists to achieve genuine international success, such as when they followed The Beatles on to the Ed Sullivan Show in the early '60s.


Cathal Coughlan - The Fatima Mansions

Though criminally forgotten today, The Fatima Mansions blazed a furious, expletive-gunked trail through early '90s Ireland. Back when bishops were still venerated and divorce prohibited by law, Coughlan was the angriest Irishman on the planet.

Rage can be a fruitless emotion -- but East Cork-raised Coughlan channelled it into rattling, spittle-spewing agit-prop. To see exactly how radical and inflammatory The Fatima Mansions were, search the web for their 'cover' of REM's 'Shiny Happy People'.


Niall O'Flaherty- Sultans of Ping FC

The second Corkonian on the list, "NOF" (as Sultans fans dubbed him ) was of a generation of Irish musicians determined be as unlike Bono as possible.

Singing in an odd faux-English rasp (acquired during a summer working in the UK, by all accounts), the UCC graduate wasn't interested in changing your life or reaching out to the dispossessed.

He wanted to be the centre of attention every time he stepped on stage. How is it, then, that, in its own shambolic way, Sultan of Ping's 'Where's Me Jumper?' feels as profound as anything U2 ever committed to vinyl?


Gavin Friday- Virgin Prunes

Virgin Prunes' arty post-punk rates as 'interesting' rather than 'listenable'.

Nevertheless, in the early '80s, they proved it was possible for a cross-dressing Brechtian cabaret band to gain a following, even in sullen, recession-wracked Dublin.

If you thought it was impossible for a straight Irish man to look imposing in mascara and lipstick, our man Friday was happy to prove you wrong.


Van Morrison- Them

Van sneaks on to our hit parade by dint of fronting early 60s blues-rockers Them.

In addition, it's been pointed out to us that, by law, any countdown of Irish rock greats is required to mention Astral Weeks, his 1968 masterpiece.


Gary Lightbody- Snow Patrol

The North's answer to Chris Martin, the Snow Patrol frontman is living proof that if you keep toiling away you may actually achieve everything you've ever dreamed of.

After half a decade of struggling to sell out Whelan's, Snow Patrol morphed into one of the world's biggest bands. Regardless of your opinion of their music, who could deny they deserve their success? Or that Lightbody knows his way around a tasty arena anthem?


Neil Hannon - The Divine Comedy

Technically Hannon is The Divine Comedy. However, if the Dublin-based Fermanagh native is happy to pretend he's fronting a band, so are we.

Also, he wrote 'My Lovely Horse'. How could we not put him on the list?


Mick Pyro - Republic Of Loose

Mick Pyro? The bearded mumbler from Republic Of Loose?

Having demonstrated that Irish people can get their funk on, channel Michael Jackson and sing in a falsetto without lurching into national embarrassment territory, we reckon the 'Loose frontman deserves a Top 10 finish.

Is there a better homegrown single of the past five years than 'Comeback Girl'?

Besides, who were we going to pick instead? The frowny chap from Bell X1? Exactly.

- Ed Power

Irish Independent

independent

16.4.10

Haiti lawmakers OK Clinton-led rebuilding panel


The sun sets over the harbor with the destroyed Presidential Palace visible at left, and at right a makeshift camp for displaced people, in Port-au-Prince, Thursday April 15, 2010. Over a million Haitians are living as internally-displaced people following the recent earthquake.


By JONATHAN M. KATZ, Associated Press Writer Jonathan M. Katz, Associated Press Writer – 1 hr 35 mins ago
PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti – Haiti's soon-to-expire parliament has approved the creation of a commission co-chaired by former U.S. President Bill Clinton to oversee billions in post-quake reconstruction aid, the Ministry of Communications said Friday.

The vote was widely sought by international donors who want a high degree of foreign control over an estimated $5.3 billion pledged for 2010-11 at a March 31 United Nations conference.

Thirteen senators voted for the legislative package in a late session Thursday night, Communications Minister Marie-Laurence Jocelyn Lassegue said. Already approved by the lower house, it now goes to President Rene Preval for enactment.

The vote extends Haiti's post-earthquake state of emergency for 18 months, leaving the billions delivered in that time to be overseen by the Interim Haiti Reconstruction Commission led by Clinton, who is the U.N. special envoy to Haiti, and Prime Minister Jean-Max Bellerive.

Preval will have veto power over the commission's decisions. His support was key: Twelve of the 13 yes-votes came from members of his newly formed Unity Party. One senator voted against the package and two abstained. Eleven senators were absent.

It is likely the last significant action parliament will take before most senators' and deputies' terms expire next month. Elections planned for February were canceled because of the earthquake and have not been rescheduled.

The commission is envisioned as a check on mismanagement and corruption, which a recent U.S. State Department report called "severe ... in all branches of government."

The report cited a lack of corruption prosecutions and limited filing of asset disclosures — though some of its accusations concerned officials who are no longer in government.

A survey of more than 1,700 Haitians released this week by the international aid group Oxfam said less than 7 percent wanted their government to manage reconstruction on its own, though nearly 25 percent thought it could work together with local authorities and community organizations.

Nearly 40 percent wanted control to fall to a foreign government. Yet in a separate question, less than half of respondents thought the international community would follow through on its pledges.

The commission will also include Haitian legislators, other officials and union and business representatives, along with foreign delegates from the U.S., Canada, Brazil, France, Venezuela, the European Union, the Inter-American Development Bank, the World Bank, the United Nations and the Caribbean Community trade bloc.

yahoo

15.4.10

To restore Haiti, reforest its denuded hills
Columbus found Haiti a place of lush plants. Exploitation destroyed that, and the population. Now, there's a chance to help the people and the environment by putting Haitians to work restoring the natural heritage.

By Tom Byers

April 15, 2010


A NASA satellite image shows bare dirt on Haiti's side of the border and greenery in the neighboring Dominican Republic


After the earthquake: surgeons operate at Gheskio Field Hospital in Port-au-Prince, Haiti

The world has mounted a determined effort to relieve the immense human suffering in Haiti. It is a remarkable outpouring of compassion that includes grassroots efforts to solicit donations on handheld devices, giant military transport planes loaded with food and water, and the quiet heroism of thousands of non-governmental relief workers, and it now seems well on its way toward meeting the immediate needs. As that monumental task is accomplished, and the attention of the world’s media shifts elsewhere, the challenge of creating a decent future for the people of Haiti will likely remain, because normal life in Haiti was unacceptably perilous even before the earthquake.

If there is to be any real hope for Haiti, a long-term and multi-faceted recovery effort must be mounted on a scale the world has rarely achieved. Fortunately, former President Clinton and many others are already looking ahead to that task, drawing up plans to rebuild the nation's homes, government buildings, ports, and roads. A group of us in Seattle and beyond, many from Federal Way-based World Vision, have suggested that the plan for rebuilding Haiti should also include a major campaign to put Haitians to work restoring the "natural capital" of their country — the once-verdant forests and clean rivers that were destroyed long ago, but ought to be restored as a birthright for future generations and a cornerstone of the nation’s future prosperity.

Long before the Jan. 12 earthquake leveled Haiti's capital, the devastation of its natural resources could be seen from outer space. Call up satellite images of Haiti on the internet and you will be shocked at the stark contrast between the barren hills of Haiti and the green mountainsides just across the border in the Dominican Republic. That deforestation is both a cruel legacy of Haiti's colonial past and a major factor in the poverty of her people today. It is a legacy that must be reversed to improve the future prospects of this fragile nation.

Modern Haiti's barren mountains could not be more different than the landscape first seen by European explorers. Writing in his diary on Dec. 13, 1492, Christopher Columbus described his first view of Haiti with these words:

"All the trees were green and full of fruit and the plants tall and covered with flowers. The roads were broad and good. The climate was like April in Castile; the nightingale and other birds sang as they do in Spain during the month, and it was the most pleasant place in the world."

The idyllic landscape Columbus describes did not fare well in the centuries that followed, nor did its stewards, a half-million Arawak natives whose ancestors had lived on the island for nearly 5,000 years. As Jared Diamond records this history in his book Collapse, the Spanish quickly enslaved the Arawaks and forced them to mine for gold, and then to clear the land for sugar plantations. Within three decades of Columbus's voyage, disease, maltreatment and outright massacres had all but eliminated the native population. As a result, the Spanish began importing slaves from Africa to keep their mines and plantations in operation.

Spain's attention eventually shifted to its more lucrative colonies in the Americas, leaving the French to fill the vacuum left in the western part of Hispaniola. The French accelerated the slave trade and cleared ever larger swaths of forest for plantations, shipping the timber off to France in the hulls of the same ships that had brought the slaves from Africa.

These practices were, to say it mildly, profoundly unsustainable, both for those enslaved and for the environment. In 1850, the Haitian slaves overthrew their masters, but by the time the Haitian people had freed themselves from colonial rule, much of their "natural capital" had been destroyed. What little remained of the nation's forests then has largely been lost since — cut down by the poor, who make up the overwhelming majority of the nation's populace, and who are almost entirely dependent on charcoal as a source of fuel for heating and cooking.

Today only 1% of Haiti's forests remain (compared to 28% of the Dominican Republic's forests). In Diamond's words: "The consequences of all that deforestation include loss of timber and other forest building materials, soil erosion, loss of soil fertility, sediment loads in the rivers, loss of watershed protection and hence of potential hydroelectric power, and decreased rainfall.

These deficits in natural capital are reflected in the stark realities of Haiti's persistent economic deprivation: It is not only the poorest nation outside Africa (where many nations suffer from the same environmental deficits), it is a nation of subsistence farmers with ever more depleted soil; a country of 10 million people who must often choose between unsafe drinking water or water bottled by corporations and sold at prices they cannot afford. It is a nation built of cinder blocks because it no longer had any timber.

If there is anything fortuitous for the Haitian people in the timing of the earthquake, it may be that it comes at the time when people are beginning to understand that the natural capital of any nation has value to all of humankind. It is conceivable that this new understanding could be converted into a form of aid for Haiti that would not only help the nation get on its feet, but have lasting value for all humankind — the restoration of Haiti’s forests.

Indeed, several forces are converging that could make this vision a reality:

•The nations of the world seem prepared to pledge hundreds of millions of dollars for relief and recovery in Haiti.
•There is a recognition that the concept of "recovery" cannot have meaning in Haiti unless the millions of Haitians without resources or technical skills can find meaningful work. The need to rebuild the physical infrastructure of the nation will create work for those with sophisticated construction skills, but many Haitians do not possess such skills, and will be without the money to support themselves and their families unless the means can be found to employ them to aid the nation's recovery with skills they can quickly acquire.
•A comprehensive plan to restore Haiti's forests and waterways could employ tens of thousands of unemployed individuals in a modern Haitian version of Roosevelt's Civilian Conservation Corps, quickly putting money directly into the hands of local workers for their work in replenishing forest resources that will help to ensure the durability of the nation's recovery over time.
•An initiative to restore Haiti's forests could serve as a model for reconciling the interests of the developed, developing, and undeveloped worlds so that they can act as one to confront the universal threat posed by climate change. For however deep their differences may be, it is hard to imagine that the world's nations could not find common ground in the opportunity to help Haiti's populace restore its forests, while sequestering carbon and slowing climate change in the bargain.
•Another critical benefit of reforestation in Haiti is that it will improve resilience to future weather events. Reforestation combined with agro-forestry (trees on smallholder farms) is critical to restoring watersheds, which will also enhance agriculture production. Therefore, a reforestation initiative could serve as both a strategy that helps Haiti adapt to problems created by global warming and as a strategy to mitigate those problems by reducing greenhouse gases.
Here is a rough outline of how such an initiative might get underway:

1.At modest expense, a philanthropic sponsor (or sponsors) could convene a two-day meeting of key players to create a schematic plan which addresses both short-term employment through a Civilian Conservation Corps (referred to by some as a "Forest Corps for Haiti"), and the long- term restoration of Haiti's natural resources.
2.The schematic plan would identify appropriate roles for local organizations, government agencies, NGOs and the international community, with special attention to building the capacity within Haiti's civil society to take responsibility for all aspects of the initiative over time.

3.The plan would identify working groups of individuals with expertise in all of the areas needed to implement the initiative. The working groups would flesh out the schematic plan, spelling out how Haitians will be recruited, trained and employed to accomplish immediate, mid-range and long-term restoration goals based upon the best available science.

4.To implement the plan, a Haitian Reforestation Trust Fund would be established, managed by an international organization selected for its transparency, effectiveness, and ability to act quickly and decisively.

A key part of the initiative will be the measurement of the value of the reforestation measures in terms of mitigating the factors that lead to climate change. 5.The trust fund would pool the voluntarily contributions from foundations, individual donors, and UN member nations. It would be used to achieve the complementary goals of employing Haitians and creating forest resources to replenish the natural capital of the nation and reduce climate change.

6.A key part of the initiative will be the measurement of the value of the reforestation measures in terms of mitigating the factors that lead to climate change. As the global environmental benefits of Haiti's reforestation are documented, the trust would be replenished through the carbon markets, so that a mechanism can be developed to pay Haitian communities for the ongoing stewardship of the forests.

7.Future allocations from the trust to communities would be based upon the actual performance of the forests in achieving environmental goals, creating incentives for the populace to maintain the quality of the forests.

8.In addition to paying the costs to plan, implement, and monitor the reforestation (using unemployed Haitians as the primary labor force), the trust should pay for alternative energy technologies — such as solar, wind, renewable biomass (e.g., dried grass briquettes), clean burning and more efficient cooking stoves and solar cookers — as alternatives to cutting the forests for fuel.

•Land tenure is a critical concern and must be addressed if reforestation is to succeed. One strategy is for government to grant long-term leases for land improvements such as tree planting and sustainable farming. Other solutions must be explored as an integral part of the forest recovery plan.

•The Haitian population must be engaged at every stage of the initiative so they understand the value of the forest recovery plan and will be willing to act as its stewards in the future. They should have a voice in decisions about what type of forest protections are imposed in a given area, with the understanding that the revenues from the trust are predicated on the health of the forests and the people’s performance in protecting it.
The outline above is just a rough sketch of how the reforestation of Haiti might be organized. We hope these thoughts are useful as a starting point for ensuring that the near-term and long-term benefits of restoring Haiti’s natural capital are considered in creating the vision of a better, more just and sustainable future.

Tom Byers is a partner at Cedar River Group, a Seattle consulting firm focused on projects in the public interest in the fields of community development and environmental preservation. Since writing this paper in January, he has been working with representatives of World Vision and other international relief organizations to implement the ideas contained in the paper. As a result of the group's efforts, experts from Haiti, relief organizations, government agencies, and private foundations will convene at Yale University in mid-May to craft a detailed plan to move forward. (Donations to World Vision can be directed to the Green Hills for Haiti Project.)

corsscut
ESPN Prepares Final World Cup Marketing Push
Network's "most comprehensive campaign behind a single event" will feature U2 and Soweto Gospel Choir
By Alex Weprin -- Broadcasting & Cable, 4/14/2010 3:14:10 PM

World Cup 2010
Special Report: World Cup 2010
NAB 2010: Net Insight to Deliver World Cup for ESPN
FIFA, Sony Unveil 3D World Cup Slate

ESPN has enlisted rock band U2 and South Africa's Soweto Gospel Choir as part of its final marketing push before and during the 2010 FIFA World Cup, which kicks off June 11 in South Africa.

At an April 14 press event in New York, ESPN production chief Jed Drake noted that there are 57 days until the World Cup begins, and 30 days of the event itself, giving the network just 87 days to flex its marketing muscle around soccer.

For the U2 and Soweto spots, the network is rolling out four pieces in advance of the tournament, and will feature clips in every program throughout the network's coverage of the event, including in highlight clips, match and studio coverage.

"This inspiring creative project with U2 and Soweto Gospel Choir will provide a distinctive, original voice to our coverage of the first FIFA World Cup to take place on the African continent," Drake said.

The network plans to target two key groups in its campaign: hardcore soccer fans and what Seth Ader, ESPN senior director of sports marketing, calls "big event sports fans" -- those who tune into events like the Super Bowl and Olympics, but may not watch sports regularly.

"Tens of millions of these sports fans that tune into these events on ESPN and other networks simply because they don't want to miss the drama that comes with competition of the highest order," Ader said, using the example of Michael Phelps during the 2008 Olympics.

For those fans, ESPN will be providing some key context, like players and teams to watch, the format of the tournament, and which African teams are in the event. There will also be deep-dive information for hardcore fans, hopefully delivering information they may not have known otherwise.

"This will be ESPN's most comprehensive promotional campaign behind a single event in the history of the company," Ader said. "That is saying something. We tend to promote things heavily, as you may have noticed."

ESPN will have over 300 staffers in South Africa, including 200 flown in from the U.S. and Europe. ESPN Executive VP of Content John Skipper says that the network plans to drive even more viewership than it saw with its 2006 World Cup coverage out of Germany, and that its multiplatform coverage and expansive marketing campaign are key to driving viewers.

"I believe that this summer, during the month of June, given our commitment to production, that the World Cup is going to dominate the discussion of sports fans in this country in a way that has not been seen previously," Skipper said.

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13.4.10

Michelle Obama in surprise visit to Haiti


US First Lady Michelle Obama (C) speaks with Haitian Prime Minister Rene Preval and his wife Elisabeth Delatour Preval (R) during a surprise visit to Haiti in Port au-Prince. Obama stopped in Haiti on her way to Mexico on her first solo trip since her husband, Barack Obama, became president of the United States in January 2009.


by Clarens Renois Clarens Renois – 2 hrs 1 min ago
PORT-AU-PRINCE (AFP) – US First Lady Michelle Obama paid a surprise visit to Haiti Tuesday and toured the Caribbean nation's capital devastated by a massive earthquake three months ago.

"It's powerful. The devastation is definitely powerful," Obama, said as she stopped in Haiti on her way to Mexico on her first solo trip since her husband, Barack Obama, became president of the United States in January 2009.

She was accompanied by Jill Biden, wife of US Vice President Joe Biden, the White House said in a statement.

After overflying the ravaged Port-au-Prince in a US Army helicopter, the two women landed in the grounds of the National Palace, where they were greeted by Haitian President Rene Preval and First Lady Elisabeth Preval.

Obama, wearing grey slacks, and a blue shirt with black flat shoes, hugged the Haitian first lady with whom she had a half-hour meeting -- along with Jill Biden and President Preval -- inside the damaged presidential palace.

Scores of US military staff and Haitian police have been deployed around the presidential palace, which for generations has been a postcard symbol of Haiti, and now sits in ruins.

They then visited a child care facility, where dozens of children sang as a smiling US first lady danced with them. Dozens of children greeted the women, singing "welcome" in English.

Another group of children sang a song in Creole, "We are glad to see you... We say let's be happy."

Obama and Biden were also due to tour a hospital in the capital of what already was the Americas' poorest country before the January 12 earthquake claimed 220,000 lives and has left 1.3 million people homeless.

The White House said the first lady's visit aims to reaffirm US commitment to continuing to help Haiti in its recovery.

"First Lady Michelle Obama and Dr. Jill Biden are visiting Haiti to underscore to the Haitian people and the Haitian government the enduring US commitment to help Haiti recover and rebuild," the White House said.

The visit was especially important "as we enter the rainy and hurricane seasons, and to thank the women and men across the whole of the US government for their extraordinary efforts in Haiti during the past three months."

Rainy season to spark 'minor disasters' for Haiti: ICRC

The White House added that the two women "will also reach out to the UN and international relief communities in recognition of the truly global effort under way to help Haiti."

Haiti is still struggling to rebuild after the 7.0-magnitude quake struck the country, leveling much of the capital Port-au-Prince and many nearby towns.

Hundreds of thousands of Haitians are still living in miserable conditions in makeshift camps which have sprung up around the capital, despite a massive international aid effort.

The United States deployed about 20,000 troops in the days following the quake and Washington has sent in dozens of staff with USAID. Almost 1,000 NGOs are on the ground in Haiti, according to USAID.

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12.4.10

Pop star Shakira prepares to build school in Haiti

Rodrigo Gutierrez, Reuters
April 12, 2010, 10:58 am

PORT-AU-PRINCE, April 11 (Reuters) - Colombian pop star Shakira met child survivors of Haiti's earthquake on Sunday as her charity prepared to build a school in the disaster-stricken Caribbean country.

The singer, who has already joined Hollywood actors and other global celebrities to raise funds for the victims of the Jan. 12 earthquake, flew into the wrecked Haitian capital Port-au-Prince aboard a private jet.

At the planned site of her Barefoot Haiti school, she met about a hundred children, some of whom danced to her songs. She then toured a camp housing nearly 50,000 people on a golf course. There, she met U.S. actor Sean Penn, whose own charity is also helping victims.

"We've come to make all the preparations to be able to start the building of a Barefoot school here in Haiti," Shakira told Reuters in a brief interview.

She explained that the school would be modeled on similar establishments created by her Pies Descalzos (Barefoot) Foundation, a charity that provides education, nutrition and psychological support to over six thousand Colombian children displaced by violence.

"We think we can employ what we've learned (in Colombia) here, apply it in this country which needs it so much at the moment," Shakira added. The Haitian school would be built and run with other non-governmental organizations.

The Haiti quake, described by some experts as the deadliest natural disaster in modern history, may have killed more than 300,000 people, the Haitian government says. It also left more than a million people homeless, many of them young orphans.

Shakira said that providing education to Haitian children would be a key part of the reconstruction of the quake-shattered country, which even before the disaster was already the poorest nation in the Western hemisphere.

"We need to think about the future of this country and of how Haiti's children can be useful to their societies tomorrow ... Education is one of the fundamental tools with which to develop and rebuild Haiti," she said. (Reporting by Rodrigo Gutierrez; Writing by Pascal Fletcher; Editing by Dean Goodman)

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11.4.10

Dublin oil find may upset U2, Enya, top Irish celebs
By JANE WALSHE, IrishCentral.com Staff Writer
Published Sunday, April 11, 2010, 7:25 AM
Updated Sunday, April 11, 2010, 11:57 AM


(Oil refinery production pumps tend to distort the view)

Residents of Dalkey, the poshest Dublin suburb of all, are less than impressed that a major oil find may be literally at their doorstep.

Ireland may henceforth be known as the Emerald Oil, but it is not good news for many of Ireland's biggest names - some of whom do not want their exclusive village turned into an oil refinery center.

Celebrities who live in Dalkey include Bono and The Edge, Van Morrison, Jim Sheridan, best-selling writer Maeve Binchy, Neil Jordan, former Formula One racing driver Eddie Irvine and Enya.

Providence Resources, a major oil company, announced findings that suggests that an area just off the Dalkey coast in the Kish Bank Basin, known to developers as the Dalkey Island exploration prospect, could contain as much as 870 million barrels of oil. It's estimated that Ireland currently consumes 200,000 barrels of oil per day.

If even a third of that figure (up to 300 million barrels) of the potential oil is recoverable, it could be worth up to €18.7 billion ($25 m) 

Despite some real excitement about the find, especially in the light of Ireland's current economic woes, Providence is distancing itself from overly optimistic guesswork. 

A leading Irish geologist quoted in the Sunday Independent says there are grounds for optimism. "At least it looks positive enough at this stage, and we're badly in need of good news at present, so the best of luck to them," he said.

However local residents in the posh suburb are not happy. "Possibly it will create jobs but I don't fancy the place turning into a refinery. They said it would be a long way off-shore so I don't think it will have that much of an effect on the views. It may be a sort of gold-rush," Patrick Riordan, who has lived in Dalkey for 36 years, told the Sunday Independent.

"If you look back into the history of Dalkey in the 1700s, there was a gold fever, so I think it will be similar to this and they will eventually find nothing," said another resident, who didn't want to be named.

"If it was April 1, I would have thought it was April's Fool but I do think it will interrupt the view from my house which I am worried about," said local Catherine Crothers.

"It wouldn't surprise me if oil was found. I think it could be an issue where the infrastructure is not attractive and it takes away from the view. That will be where the complaints will arrive. Job creation will be the only positive aspect," said Mary Barry, who has lived in Dalkey for three years.

"I feel sorry for Jim Sheridan if infrastructure is brought in as it will affect his views. I certainly wouldn't like to be looking at a big drilling station when I was fishing," said local fisherman Ciaran Hickey.

irishcentral
Haiti starts moving quake victims to safer refuge

By Joseph Guyler Delva Joseph Guyler Delva – 53 mins ago
PORT-AU-PRINCE (Reuters) – Haiti's government and foreign aid agencies started an operation on Saturday to move thousands of earthquake survivors to a safer refuge to avoid the risk of mudslides and flooding during the rainy season.

More than a million people were left homeless by the devastating January 12 earthquake that wrecked swaths of the Haitian capital, Port-au-Prince, and experts say thousands of those are at risk from seasonal rains due in the coming weeks.

Haitian President Rene Preval said special settlements were being set up by the government with the help of the United Nations and nongovernmental relief organizations to house quake survivors now living in crowded, vulnerable makeshift tent camps, some located in dangerous watersheds.

"Wherever there are people exposed to danger, we'll relocate them and give them priority," Preval told Reuters as he visited the Petionville golf club camp where nearly 50,000 survivors are sheltering, many of them on steep slopes.

"We start with this camp today," Preval said.

Over the next 10 or 12 days, up to 7,500 quake survivors judged to be at risk among those in the Petionville golf club camp will be given the option to relocate, either with host families or at a new settlement set up at Corail, about 12 miles north of Port-au-Prince.

"The (Petionville) camp is overcrowded and there are between 5,000 and 7,500 people that have been identified in these high-risk zones," said LeAnn Hager, a coordinator for the Catholic Relief Services, which help run the Petionville site along with a charity set up by Hollywood actor Sean Penn.

"They would be placed in grave danger once the rains begin. They would be exposed to flooding and other land movements," Hager said. The relocation would also help decongest the camp.

THREAT OF ANOTHER DISASTER

At least six other high-risk areas sheltering survivors have been identified as requiring evacuation before the rains.

Some aid organizations have criticized the government and the United Nations for being slow to set up alternative safer sites.

Haiti's government says more than 300,000 people may have been killed in the January 12 quake, described by some experts as the deadliest natural disaster in modern history. It hit a nation that was already the poorest in the Western Hemisphere.

Aid workers say that unless safer, more secure shelter is found for the hundreds of thousands of homeless quake victims, the imminent rains, and the hurricane season starting on June 1, could cause another humanitarian catastrophe.

Survivors who chose to move to the new settlement at Corail, where aid agencies have set up shelters, water points and sanitation, were being given a special pass for the trip in a convoy of buses and trucks.

Several said they were going because they had no other choice. But they were concerned about leaving their community.

"I've lost everything. They asked me if I wanted to go, I said yes. But I have no idea about the conditions there," said Manise Raphael. "I don't know anybody there, anyway, I don't have a choice," she said.

Penn said he was optimistic that Haiti could rebuild successfully after the devastating quake.

At a donors' conference in New York on March 31, governments, multilateral institutions and NGOs from around the world pledged nearly $10 billion for Haiti's reconstruction.

"As an optimist, I believe that if Haiti can turn the corner, not only on the earthquake but also on this long struggle in history it's had, Haiti can become the example of how developing countries can develop themselves," Penn said.

(Editing by Pascal Fletcher and Peter Cooney)

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7.4.10

Bono and Gavin Friday tell stories for boys
By Lynne Kelleher


Members of U2 and the Virgin Prunes in one of their living rooms in the early days of the bands


Tuesday April 06 2010

U2 SINGER Bono has told how he turned to painting canvasses with childhood friends Gavin Friday and Guggi to escape fame when he first became a superstar.

A new documentary about his best friend Gavin Friday follows the extraordinary friendship between a group of northside Dublin boys that has endured for five decades.

Bono tells how his boyhood pals, Gavin and artist Guggi Rowan, brought him back down to earth when his fame began to explode around the world in 1983.

He said: "I remember being on the road in America and you go through that self-consciousness that fame gives you.

"People know who you are and you get a bit weird. Guggi and Gavin called me out on that and said, 'You're very boring at the moment'. I would go, 'Yeah, yeah -- you're right'.

"We started to paint together. It was also to encourage Guggi, who we knew had not found a way to make the canvasses really matter."

The bond between the boyhood friends is traced back in the RTE documentary 'Ladies And Gentlemen, Gavin Friday'.

Bono, Friday and Guggi all lived on the Cedarwood Road in Glasnevin. The three became friends at the around the age of 10.

"When I started out hanging out with them, I found kindred spirits and there was a special bond between me and Guggi and Bono", said Gavin.

They were joined by Guggi's brother, Strongman, The Edge and his brother Richard Evans, Larry Mullen, Adam Clayton and David Watson.

Gavin, who was born Fionan Hanvey, was a painfully shy child, whose charismatic personality only came alive on stage as the frontman of glam-rock band, The Virgin Prunes.

He recently celebrated his 50th birthday with a star-studded concert at New York's Carnegie Hall.


'Ladies And Gentlemen, Gavin Friday' is on RTE One tonight at 10.15pm.

- Lynne Kelleher

Irish Independent


independent

6.4.10

Haiti schools reopen for first time since quake



Haiti appealed to the world's nations to donate $3.8 billion dollars to start rebuilding earthquake-ravaged Haiti. In the first minutes of a day-long conference, the U.S. and the E.U. pledged more than two-thirds that amount.



Elene attends a math class at the Bom Berger Baptist School, Cite Soleil slum, Port-au-Prince, Monday, April 5. Schools are opening across Haiti's capital for the first time since a devastating earthquake hit nearly three months ago.

PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti (AP) — The official reopening of schools among the ruins of Haiti's capital brought unbridled joy Monday to students like 12-year-old Moris Rachelle.
After nearly three months on the streets with nothing to do but help her mother look after two younger brothers, Moris wore white ribbons in her hair as she ran, laughed and hugged friends she had not seen since the Jan. 12 catastrophic earthquake.

"All my friends are here," she gushed, smiling broadly. "I'm happy they are not under the rubble."

Registration for the academic year provided a major step toward normalcy for Haiti's children, and offered the first sense for how many of them have survived.

But Haiti's hard-hit education system is just beginning to recover.


The yard at Moris' public school in the western Carrefour-Feuilles district of Port-au-Prince remained covered with smashed concrete, glass, torn notebook paper. Parents did not want their children to enter a pair of concrete buildings still standing for fear they might give way from damage or an aftershock.

And there was no sign of the tents promised by the Education Ministry in sight, so the school eventually sent all the students home until next Monday.

Only a few hundred schools are expected to open this week in a country where the quake destroyed some 4,000 schools. Many are waiting for tents to teach under because nobody wants to put children back under concrete roofs.

Some community-led learning centers already opened in homeless camps, but there had been no formal education in the capital until Monday, said Edward Carwardine, a UNICEF spokesman in Port-au-Prince. He said it was impossible to say how many schools reopened Monday.

About 40% of schools in the hard-hit southern city of Jacmel have reopened.

At Moris Rachelle's school, as many as 100 of its roughly 1,000 students died in the quake, including some buried in the rubble of an unfinished, six-story hospital that collapsed onto the yard during afternoon classes.

The only way to know for sure who survived was to write down students' names as they filed in Monday. Student council member Chilet Louis, a volunteer registering a line of arrivals in blue school uniforms, said it was his first time back since he helped pull bodies from the rubble that afternoon.

"It's good to see life starting again, but I also knew a lot of the kids who died," said Louis, a 22-year-old high school junior at the public Jean Jacque Dessaline school.

Educators say the regular curriculum will wait while they address the trauma of the disaster.

Administrators took groups of older students aside to talk about the quake. Without any psychologists available, they used a form of group therapy.

One by one, the students stood up and described their experiences of Jan. 12. One girl said she was so startled by the bodies on the streets that she didn't eat, bathe or sleep for two days. Another said she survived only because she left her neighbor's house for an errand a moment before it collapsed, killing everyone inside.

The group applauded after each student spoke.

The magnitude-7 quake that killed a government-estimated 230,000 people left the education system to start from scratch. The Education Ministry and all its records were destroyed, and more than 700 teacher and staff were killed along with an estimated 4,000 students.

Schools are expected to open gradually across the quake zone, with the goal of having 700,000 children back in school by the middle of May, said Mohamed Fall, UNICEF's chief educational official in Haiti. The school year has been extended until August to make up for lost time.

Even before the quake, the system was in disarray. Only half of school-age children were enrolled and the government was unable to support more than a handful of schools, leaving a void filled by for-profit schools with fees that put them beyond the reach of many Haitians.

Many Haitian children leave school to work at a young age. Others are sent by their families to work as servants in more affluent households.

Fall said that as part of the quake recovery, the Haitian government and aid groups are developing strategies to extend education to children who had been excluded.

"We want to build back better," he said.

For now, he said, the immediate priorities are to clear rubble away to make room for classes, assure parents that students will not be kept anywhere near unstable buildings and ensure a minimum of sanitation for children who are often homeless.

Despite the joy of Moris and her classmates, it was a nerve-racking day for parents facing their first separation from their children since the quake.

Moris' mother, 29-year-old Jerline Ceuid, said Moris could have walked on her own from the campsite outside their collapsed home but she wanted to check on the school. She was startled to see only the two single-story concrete schoolhouses.

"If she went into those buildings, I think my heart would stop beating," said Ceuid, who added that she has taught her daughter to avoid unstable buildings in case of aftershocks. "There is still danger."

A bulldozer and frontloader parked outside had cleared a path from the street to the school, but the yard was still covered with rubble, including a pair of dusty children's shoes.

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