37 Dutch Down

There is no time for sleep, especially when you wake up to a 6.1 earthquake. Not aftershock but earthquake. The epicenter on this was one was quite bit farther away but that still didnt stop it from violently shaking my bed. I could lie and say that it was terrifying and that I was scared for my life but the truth is that I was so tired from the last couple of days that I was annoyed that the ground would dare shake and wake me up. I litterally groaned and turned over in my bed, trying to get in those few extra minutes of sleep. The night had been a rough one to begin with, dogs barking, roosters crowing (apparently no one has explained to them that crowing is for when the sun rises)and sadly enough you could here the community mourning. Lots of crying and sadness, and I am pretty sure at one point I heard gun shots. Cant say for sure as it seems very unlikely considering the neighborhood we are living in. And then to wake up to an earthquake... I knew what had happened but didnt have the energy to even care. That was definitely not the case for the Nannies. When we arrived at the Main House at 8am, the Nannies had the kids sitting outside in the driveway on blankets. I dont think you could have paid them a thousand dollars to go back in the house after that. They basically set up camp for the day right there on the cement, laying out blankets and stringing tarps above them for some shade. The boarded the perimeter with a few cribs and amazingly managed to keep the kids together and entertained.
We were told that the Dutch and Luxenburg kids were being evacuated today and that all hands would be needed. It started by seperating these kids from the main group, dressing them, labelling them, and getting them ready for the long journey ahead.
We left for the airport with 37 kids at just after 11am. The Main house is located at the bottom of quite a steep hill so we had to pile into GLA vehicles and drive to the top. It was here where we met with a team of Dutch Search and Rescue members who were waiting to escort us to the airport. It was here that we piled into a shuttle bus and each adult sat with a minimum of two kids on their laps. Seat belts and car seats are foreign concepts in Haiti, so we made due with every inch of space that we had and headed towards the airport.
When I had originally driven up to GLA with our convoy it was dark and we took a more secure route. This meant bypassing the majority of the devastation. It was much different this time. It was early morning so there were people everywhere. Nothing seemed out of place at first until we hit Delmas street. The devastation there is indescribable. Building after building was pancaked, rubble and garbage had rolled into the street. A make shift body bag that exposed the feet and the head of a woman was lying in plain view on the side of the road. A man pushing a wheelbarrow held a body wrapped in potato sacks as he powered down the street. This was not the Haiti I remembered. Thankfully the kids were too young or too occupied to see or notice what was going on.
The Dutch Search and Rescue team was amazing. They were singing, handing out cookies and keeping the kids, and the adults throughly entertained. I overheard them saying quite a few times throughout the day that it was these kids that made the trip worthwhile.
I dont think I have ever sweat so much in my life as I did sitting on that bus. For the last mile until we reached the airport we were at a traffic standstill. We were barely inching along with the sun beating in through the windows. All the windows were open but the air was so stagnant that you couldnt help but sweat. The two girls that were sitting on me had fallen asleep and had quickly sweat through their clothes as well as my own. It was pouring off my face and rolling down my back. There was just no relief.
When we finally made it to the airport we drove straight to the Dutch camp. It was there that we were given our very own tent and were able to allow the kids to play. The Dutch Rescue team was joined with their air force and together we created a lot of attention. They all clapped as we walked off the bus and it wasnt long before each adult had a baby in their arms. It was great to see how much joy these kids were bringing to all the soliders and airmen.
Then the wait started. It was a little before 2 when we got there and our flight wasnt arriving until 7:40 pm. I will be honest in saying that 5 hours does not go by quickly with 37 children in a military tent. We played games, we changed diapers, we fed them, we changed more diapers and we waited.
The send off was very bitter sweet. As exciting as it is knowing that these kids get to go home to their forever families the selfish part of me was sad to see them go. Even in that short amount of time you can create a solid bond and the thought of never seeing them again is admittedly upsetting. This was the first time I had been emotional the whole trip. I couldnt seem to hold back the tears for these kids. A mixture of sadness, relief and amazement that I get to see and be a part of Gods work being done.
It was wierd the way they took the kids to the plane though. They needed to call each kid out by name, check them off the list and then send them with the Search and Rescue team to board the bus and the eventually board the plane. As GLA Staff and Volunteers we literally had to hand these children off to total strangers. For some of them it was exciting and fun, to others it was scary and then of course there was the group of children that were far too tired to care. It may not have been the best way to get the kids checked and loaded but in the end the goal was accomplished. About 10 hours since leaving the orphanage, the tears were flowing as we waved goodbye to 37 kids.
The same bus that brought us in took us home. You might not think that that is worth mentioning but this same bus that would have easily held over 50 people was now barrelling through the streets of Port Au Prince at 60 miles an hour with less than 10 people on board. We made it from the airport to the GLA drop off point in 32 minutes. This was only possible due to the constant horn honking, red light running and eratic driving that only a Haitian bus driver can do. It was impressive, not necessary, but impressive.
37 kids gone and a 32 minute bus ride....life is good.