New Zealander James Addis has been deployed to Haiti with World Vision following last week’s devastating earthquake.
The former Mount Roskill Grammar School pupil began work with World Vision’s New Zealand office in 1996.
Soon afterwards he was regularly dispatched to cover the organization’s work in a variety of war zones, notably Sudan, Afghanistan, Iraq, East Timor, and Kosovo.
Before joining World Vision, James worked as a newspaper reporter, and even further back, graduated with a bachelor’s degree in history at Auckland University.
In 2005, James transferred to World Vision’s US office, where he is senior editor for World Vision’s magazine.
James, whose parents still live in Green Bay, Auckland, is married to kiwi Sharon and has a daughter, Nicole, and son, Michael.
He is currently blogging from Port-au-Prince in Haiti.
Port-au-Prince
By James Addis
Orecchi Debras, 8, can still manage to flash an impish grin sometimes, which is a remarkable feat under the circumstances.
He suffered a serious head injury when the quake demolished the house of a friend who he was visiting when the quake struck.
At the same time his sister, Madeline, was buried in a collapsed church building. It took two days before she was discovered and pulled from the rubble. At the time of writing, she lies on a stretcher wrapped in bloodied bandages outside the Hospital Universitaire La Paix.
Orecchi also lost his home. He is now living on the street with his mom and dad, sleeping under the stars on plastic sheets.
They have only the clothes they stand up in. Orecchi’s mother, Marie Rose, says she did try to wash some of them once, using water from a drain. She has not tried it again. She says she hates living on the streets.
"You can’t find anything that you need. The streets are dirty and they stink," she says.
Perhaps even more troubling, the family has run out of money, which they were using to buy food and water. When spoken to by this reporter, around 3 p.m., they had not eaten all day.
Strangely, this does not trouble Marie Rose as much as one might think.
"God is going to help us," she says.
So what other positives are in Orecchi’s life? Probably two. Firstly, World Vision is supplying medicines--such as dressings, antibiotics, tetanus shots, and materials for the treatment of broken bones--to La Paix hospital where he and his sister are getting treatment. Secondly, both his parents are alive.
In particular his father, Rosmond, had an extraordinary escape.
The family home was built on a hillside and he was the only one at home when the quake struck. His wife was at work. Seconds before the quake hit, he had gone to the outhouse to relieve himself. It will probably be the most fortuitous call of nature of his life. He had just stepped outside again, when the quake hit. Three houses slid down the hillside and crashed into and demolished his home.
Rosmond and the outhouse remained standing.
Port-au-Prince
By James Addis
Well, a heart-stopping moment this morning when a powerful after-shock, just after 6a.m. had me making a hasty exit out of my hotel.
I was soon joined by the rest of the World Vision, staff, mostly in pyjamas.
Once we had recovered our breath, the conversation quickly turned to how many more fragile buildings might have been brought down.
The whole thing maybe lasted six or seven seconds. I’m writing at 6.30 a.m. and my heart is still pumping quite hard. It’s certainly the biggest quake I’ve ever been in, but I imagine peanuts for others.
You can’t help feeling the people of Port-au-Prince could use a break. Yesterday, I spoke to a man at one of the city’s hospitals, where World Vision was delivering medical supplies. He was holding his bandaged up son, but had actually come to visit his daughter, who was lying on a stretcher, wrapped in multiple bloodied bandages. She had been trapped in a church building for two days before being rescued.
But it was the father, Rosmond’s story that struck me on this occasion. He and his wife and 8-year-old son had been living on the street since the quake, sleeping on plastic sheets. He had been using the cash he had on him to buy food and water. That morning, his money had run out. It was about 3 p.m. and he and his family had not eaten all day.
In one sense though, he was remarkably lucky. His home is built on a hillside and he was the only one at home when the quake struck. His wife was at work and his son at a neighbor’s house. Seconds before the quake hit he had gone to the outhouse to relieve himself. It will probably be the most fortuitous call of nature of his life. He had just stepped outside again, when the quake hit. Three houses slid down the hillside and crashed into and demolished his home.
Rosmond and the outhouse remained standing.
Port-au-Prince
By James Addis
When you see help reaching people who really need it and are intensely grateful for it, the sense of exhilaration knows no bounds.
The exhilaration happened for me after a visit to an orphanage in Delmas, Port-au-Prince.
The orphanage had 150 kids with no supplies. Most of them were suffering from diarrhea.
We heard about the needs at the orphanage and arranged to visit. It was very difficult to find a vehicle. Almost every hour new specialist staff turn up from all over the world - logistics people, health specialists, child specialists. Major food distributions are being organized, staff need to get to UN coordination meetings.
Eventually we found a vehicle and loaded up with food and water and multi-vitamins and set off to visit the orphanage. They are running out of food and they have not had fresh water in two days. They’ve been boiling water from a local river.
It’s massively overcrowded. They took in dozens more orphans from another orphanage damaged in the quake. The children are in a terrible state. Malnourished and suffering from scabies. There is no electricity.
The orphans press around us. Holding their arms up begging to be picked up. Their need for affection is intense
Rosmond and the outhouse remained standing.
Port-au-Prince
By James Addis
I’ve been deployed to many humanitarian emergencies. For me, this is the most shocking I have ever seen. I will never forget the corpses piled outside the city morgue.
Travelling back to a modest hotel at 2am last night we drove past hundreds, maybe thousands, who would have no shelter that night and perhaps not for many nights to come. Some slept under vehicles. Some on sidewalks. Some dangerously on the road.
Some had set up chairs in the middle of the street and remained talking into the early hours. Vehicles were parked haphazardly. We had to ask bystanders for one to be moved. Our driver got out and helped push it. People were good natured about it all. So far I have not seen a hint of the violence that some have predicted may erupt if conditions do not improve. On the contrary, for now, a spirit of cooperation seems to prevail.
At the hospital on my first day, where World Vision was distributing medical supplies, the hospital manager spoke enthusiastically of the volunteers who had come to help out.
It took ages to reach the hotel. We lost our way several times in the narrow streets, many blocked by large bits of rubble.
The good news is World Vision’s flights bringing emergency supplies have started to land. We are expecting several in the next few days. The next challenge will be to distribute it. Everything takes an age. It’s hard to find trucks and gasoline.
The simplest things—getting a driver, finding an internet connection, finding a place to stay at night require a lot of effort and planning. It’s tiring work. But one only has to walk the streets for a few seconds. Take in the smells emanating from the makeshift camps to realize that ones own position is a thousand times better than that of those all around you.
Port-au-Prince
By James Addis
The last time I was deployed to a humanitarian emergency I had no wife and no children. This time I have a wonderful wife, Sharon, a daughter, Nicole, 3, and a young son Michael, 6 months.
In previous emergencies I never got homesick. Now the tug of home hits more powerfully than ever. I keep needing to pull myself together. “For goodness sake man you have only been here a few days.”
It’s not only missing the family of course. The heat, the smell of sickness and despair, the tragic stories that one hears, it makes one long for peace and tranquility, the comforts of home, familiar faces; a strong cup of coffee--taken at leisure and not in a mad rush.
Yesterday, I attended our first distributions of relief aid to the homeless – biscuits, health kits, clothes, and bottled water. Chatting to people waiting patiently in the lines, they all have a story.
One woman was trapped for days, hugging her infant son. She says she spent most of the time praying. Another woman, Gina Jean, was pulled from the rubble almost immediately. Bewildered, she ended up sitting in a street full of screaming people. When she eventually composed herself, and was able to thank God that she was still alive, and her children had also got out, she was then struck by a fresh fear: what about her husband out at work?
He has not been seen since the events of Tuesday. Gina has since checked the local hospitals without success. If things were not bad enough, she now lives on a patch of waste ground with her two children. One of them is only 4 months old. The other is 10. A few strung up bed sheets and a washing line hung with clothes, are their protection from the sun. These things amount to their home at the moment. “It is shameful for my children to have to live like this,” she says.
Soon I expect I will be able to go home and be reunited with my family. One can only guess what the future holds for Gina.
Port-au-Prince
By James Addis
I’ve been deployed to many humanitarian emergencies. For me, this is the most shocking I have ever seen. I will never forget the corpses piled outside the city morgue.
Travelling back to a modest hotel at 2am last night we drove past hundreds, maybe thousands, who would have no shelter that night and perhaps not for many nights to come. Some slept under vehicles. Some on sidewalks. Some dangerously on the road.
Some had set up chairs in the middle of the street and remained talking into the early hours. Vehicles were parked haphazardly. We had to ask bystanders for one to be moved. Our driver got out and helped push it. People were good natured about it all. So far I have not seen a hint of the violence that some have predicted may erupt if conditions do not improve. On the contrary, for now, a spirit of cooperation seems to prevail.
At the hospital on my first day, where World Vision was distributing medical supplies, the hospital manager spoke enthusiastically of the volunteers who had come to help out.
It took ages to reach the hotel. We lost our way several times in the narrow streets, many blocked by large bits of rubble.
The good news is World Vision’s flights bringing emergency supplies have started to land. We are expecting several in the next few days. The next challenge will be to distribute it. Everything takes an age. It’s hard to find trucks and gasoline.
The simplest things—getting a driver, finding an internet connection, finding a place to stay at night require a lot of effort and planning. It’s tiring work. But one only has to walk the streets for a few seconds.
Take in the smells emanating from the makeshift camps to realize that ones own position is a thousand times better than that of those all around you.
