Huddled Masses

Huddled Masses

Bon Chance Refugee Camp

After finishing up some meetings in Petionville a few days later, Kevin receives a panicked request via Tele-Joel to place a collect call to NYC. He finds a Telco, pays the “seating fee” to wait for a phone and makes the call. He’s connected to a woman from a church that donates to NGO Tech. Apparently, they are escorting several hundred Haitian cane workers back from the Dominican Republic. They don’t have a plan for when they get to Haiti, which is why they need his advice. Kevin quickly advises that they turn around before they cross the border, but learns that they’ve already talked their way past the Haitian border guards. The refugees have been deposited at the Bon Chance government refugee camp. The American “facilitators” needed to return to Miami but were unable to make arrangements with the camp staff.

Before Kevin can interrupt, she goes on at great length to explain that the DR regime was expelling entire Haitian families and it’s such a relief to get the group safely into Bon Chance. When she takes a breath, Kevin explains that the refugee situation is common knowledge. Did she know that the Haitian government has no funds and everyone in that camp is already starving to death? Since she doesn’t have anything to say about that, Kevin asks if she knows this DR-initiated crisis is an intentional tactic to overwhelm and destabilize Haiti’s democratically elected government. After a lot of crackling silence on the line, Kevin adds that if churches are unwittingly compounding the problem it might be best if they stop trying to be the solution. Then the line is cut.

Kevin considers dismissing the whole situation as someone else’s bad decision but decides he can’t live with that. The next day, he goes to the Bon Chance camp to see what’s going on. Before he’s even figured out who’s in charge, his Lada is surrounded with shouting, angry people, who see his tool kit and lead him to their power generator. After convincing them that the fuel tank is empty and he can’t fix that, another person leads Kevin across the camp in the opposite direction from his SUV. They weave through the dozen or so squat cement buildings that used to be a mission school campus. Every open door shows at least four curtained off sleeping areas with multiple cots inside. The desks and chairs have already been turned into firewood and the blackboards are the only reminders that the refugee camp was once a school.

They pass a line of Haitian women over large cauldrons of rice and beans and turn the corner to see an endless food line stretching across a soccer field and around the corner of a building 100 meters away. Just then, a fight breaks out in the food line. Two young boys tumble into the dirt and roll around until one screams as the other bites into his ear lobe and tears it away with his teeth. Blood flows but no one intervenes. Kevin’s escort tells him it’s “pa gro bagay.” The kids have no parents. No one will make trouble.

They finally arrive at the camp’s medical clinic. It’s a small room in the school’s former admin building. Kevin’s escort pushes him inside and then disappears. The clinic is crowded with a line of waiting patients outside. A very tired looking government doctor is being assisted by a young French nurse. The nurse has just arrived in country. Her French allows her to communicate with the doctor. But she doesn’t understand or speak Creole, so she can’t communicate directly with the patients. A Haitian man approaches Kevin and introduces himself as Pastor Tomas. He’s one of the pastors the church brought here. They’ve been having problems getting medical care due to language barriers with the staff. The Haitian cane workers were living in the DR so long that their Creole is now mixed with Spanish and most local Haitians can’t understand their dialect.

The doctor, nurse, and Pastor Tomas all start speaking in their own languages at the same time and then look at Kevin expectantly. He asks them to explain again; slowly and one at a time. Eventually, Kevin pieces together the problem. One of the children who came with the group has a severe throat infection. The doctor hasn’t prescribed any antibiotics. Instead of reminding them that he has no medical knowledge and is only competent with English, Kevin jumps in and tries his best to be the interpreter for everyone. There’s a lot of shouting and hand waving and Kevin quickly becomes overwhelmed. He asks everyone to calm down and repeat things slowly but that seems to panic everyone more. If he doesn’t understand, why is he here? But Kevin’s into it now and can’t bring himself to call a timeout.

Everyone finally agrees that the child should receive antibiotics. The doctor’s concern is that the child may not take all the pills. Kevin finally gets frustrated and announces, “Fine! I’ll take accountability. Just give me the pills.” However, by the time all the arguing has stopped, it escapes everyone’s attention that the sick child is an infant who can’t swallow anything because of her throat infection. Kevin only learns this when he returns to the family’s corner of a classroom with some penicillin tablets. He watches helplessly as the parents try to get the little girl to swallow them. Then he has to attend her funeral on behalf of the NGO that created the entire mess in the first place.

After that disastrous performance, Kevin doesn’t expect to get any more phone calls from the US. But despite his inadequacies and lack of experience with refugee resettlement, Kevin is the only English/Creole speaker on his NGO’s staff. Kevin writes up a report on the child’s death, which finds its way to the Aristide government. A commission is formed to investigate the camp’s conditions. It includes any disaster aid NGO that has grant money left and a collection of new officials from the GOH. USAID takes one look at the whole situation and says, “No thanks.”

Due to his previous relationships with some of the GOH officials, Kevin finds himself negotiating with the Ministry of Cults, the Red Cross, and dozens of NGO representatives. They’re all concerned about the situation in the camp but Kevin is the only member of the entire commission who’s actually set foot in the place. After a very long meeting with lots of high-minded rhetoric about the importance of integrating the refugees into Haitian culture, Kevin has had enough. When the NGO and GOH experts have finally stopped theorizing, Kevin clears his throat and says, “It’s obviously important that we think about the long term. But if we don’t do something to help these people right now, they’ll be too dead to immerse themselves in anything.”

But even after that, Kevin keeps getting invited to meetings and his NGO keeps finding new ways to dig him in deeper. Even though he’s been in country less than a year, Kevin’s reports about the coup and human rights atrocities are thorough and difficult to ignore. This brings him to the attention of other audiences as “someone who knows things” but more dangerously, “someone who will tell things”. Unfortunately, the audience taking the most notice seems to be at the US Embassy. Kevin learns from several reliable sources that his name on their list of “human rights and democracy advocates.” As his Haitian friends remind him, it’s not good to be on that list.

Despite all the distractions, Kevin is able to stay in touch with Pastor Tomas at Bon Chance. Conditions are atrocious but there is nowhere else for the refugees to go, since few have friends or family in Haiti. Kevin works out an arrangement with Pastor Tomas’ wife, Esperanza. Her Creole is very mixed with Spanish, so Kevin struggles to understand her and she him. But since Esperanza is responsible for getting supplies from the nearby market, they quickly learn to communicate with lists and prices. Kevin gets his NGO to send funds through his personal checking account, so he can take cash to Pastor Tomas and Esperanza. At this point, his Lada usually contains about a year’s worth of Haitian wages at all times, wrapped in old newspapers under a box of Bibles. Kevin prefers the French Bibles. Thieves love those because they’re worth more on the secondary market.

Because language barriers continue to cause problems in the camp and Kevin’s learned that lesson, he starts bringing Jè and Solange along to help. NGO Tech agrees to pay them as translators. Esperanza and Solange become friends instantly. They quickly organize the women in Bon Chance and living conditions start to improve. Kevin and Jè are at the camp one day, when Kevin suggests bringing Henri in to meet with the group. Jè thinks for a while, “I don’t think so. Henri isn’t really anonymous anymore. He’s been so effective that the Macoutes know him in the south, just like in the north.” Jè pauses and looks like he’s wrestling with something before continuing, “And honestly Kevin, you’re so visible in that Lada. I hope you know you’re being followed every time you leave the camp.” Kevin’s face pales, “Are you serious?” Jè nods, “There’s a new sheriff in town…”

Kevin, Jè, and Solange agree it’s best for Kevin to keep handling all the meetings with concerned NGO and alphabet agencies. Since Kevin owns the only typewriter, Solange promotes him to “Cultural Attache”. Jè and Solange will keep working quietly with Pastor Tomas and Esperanza to get the Dominican-Haitians out of the camp, but not before they have a chance of survival outside. They’ll call for Kevin as needed to deal with the Haitian administrators or to scare any of the Americans that keep showing up at awkward times. But no matter what side you’re on, meetings must happen and those meetings should be in a comfortable setting. This keeps Kevin quite busy in Petionville but at least he’s not driving back and forth to Carrefour every day.