It’s 3:45 am. I just woke up from a short sleep in the front of a car. I am at Roody’s house in Ave du Travail in Port-au-Price. The house stayed opened and every body is lying on the floor sleeping on the street.
It’s dark out there. Roody has an inverter and an internet connection which make his place useful to me.
I had a good time talking with Roody and Azad, two old school friends in Haiti. They both survived the eartquake by a slight chance.
Rody told me that the roof of Ministry of Commerce where he works as a senior counsellor collapsed. He was very lucky to put himself under his desk and jumped out from the debris.
Azad was at a meeting at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs at 4:53 last Tuesday Jan. 12 when he heard a terrible noise. “I don’t know what happened next”, he told me looking at the sky. I got out and the building collapsed on hundreds of colleagues. Some of them did not make it.
I heard on and on such stories for the last 5 days I’ve been in Port-au-Prince. Stories after stories prove me that each and evry one of us has our own path and events shape us differently.
I walk a lot in Port-au-Prince. As much as I can. Until I get too hungry because food is scarce and money is not a commodity. You can have money and can not find food to buy. I just sure I have water.
As I walk in the streets and talk with people and friends, I undertand that the very same way some buildings are destroyed, collapsed, cracked, while others survived and stayed strong ; people also have been destroyed, collapsed and cracked while others survived and stayed strong.