Haiti: A lesson in perseverance after the earthquake

On-the-ground report:

Eustache Ouayoro, World Bank Country Manager for Haiti

As I write this my hands still hesitate from remembering last week’s earthquake which cut short the lives and dreams of thousands of Haitians, but have also taught us a lesson in resilience, perseverance and hope.

That fateful Tuesday, January 12th, started off as a bright, promising day for most of us, but ended up being possibly the worst day ever for Haiti, myself, and all of us working for its courageous people.

Our office was bursting with excitement because we were expecting the visit of the Finance Minister, Ronald Boudain, to discuss accelerating the pace of disbursement of our projects so we could make a difference more quickly in the lives of so many Haitians.

The Bank's country office in Haiti was fully energized for this work. I was mentally reviewing my conversation with the Minister while giving the final touches to a new issue of our newsletter when all hell broke loose. Out of nowhere the building started shaking furiously, as if the whole office was riding a concrete and steel wave. Nevertheless, it took me what seemed a long while to realize it was an earthquake. It was unimaginable. An earthquake in Haiti!

As I was trying to maintain my balance in the middle of a mess of flying desks, glass shards and deafening sounds, I was saying to myself “this is disaster.” People who have lived through earthquakes before often say that an earthquake feels like an eternity, even though it lasts only a few seconds. This one felt longer than an eternity.

All sorts of thoughts were going through my mind as the earth shook for an excruciating 35 seconds, the recorded duration of the 7.0 magnitude earthquake. Pondering to myself, I thought: why is this happening at a time when things are looking up in Haiti? The economy has been improving, communities across Haiti are making progress in key areas, and for the first time in many years, Haiti’s future is looking brighter.

I thought about my family, my staff, about dying before accomplishing so many things. When the shaking stopped, we came outside and that’s when everything started to sink in.

The first sight when you come out of our office is the proud six-story Hotel Montana. When we came outside it was just a pile of debris engulfed in a thick cloud of dust with badly injured people lying around. This is bad, I thought, as I saw good Samaritans running to the site with no equipment but their courage to try to save lives.

Suddenly I felt depressed. Why — I wondered — is this country that has been so badly beaten been hit again?

I was glad to be alive — and that my staff was alive — but at the same time I could not understand why I was one of the lucky survivors after realizing that so many people seemed to have died. But as I watched the impromptu rescue efforts around the Montana Hotel it became clear to me that the Haitian people are resilient and strong, that they are not afraid and their imagination is just another tool in their survival kit that gives them the ability to do things for themselves and their communities.

In a flash, I understood that, now more than ever, we should be ready to continue to help the Haitian people.

I’m ready to go back to my duties. We are ready to start the long –probably decades-long- reconstruction process, with new and innovative ideas to support Haiti's resilient people.

We will continue involving Haitian communities in projects — which have yielded great results — and listen to them to figure out what needs to be done. This is where we can make a difference.

Even though this has been a life-changing event for most of us, I’m ready to be part of the challenge of rebuilding Haiti.