Deployment diary day 25: Friday 12th February

Today has been a significant one here - the 1st month anniversary of the Haiti earthquake. Officially the day has been kept as a day of mourning. Throughout the city churches have maintained a day of prayer and it has been interesting seeing so many people gather together to uphold those who are suffering loss of loved ones. The streets have been markedly quieter as businesses were encouraged to close for the weekend. Churches were packed - and as we drove out of the city this evening we witnesssed crowds pouring out from services of remembrance. Sadly, life here looks much the same as it did when I arrived 4 weeks ago (except for the presence of many informal camps) - I hope that still will not be the case in another month's time.

Even after many years participating in relief programmes there are still things that happen that bring a lump to your throat. This morning we had 7 team members leaving us and one new one coming in. It was sad to see the folks from the USA Central Territory leave. They had been here for four weeks and had worked tirelessly - long days and short nights - to help establish the Army's programme. It was the least that I could do to drive them to the airport and see them safely off. It also gave me opportunity to meet and great our one new arrival today, Agnes. I know what it's like arriving in a strange county and how nice it is to exit the airport terminal and see someone bearing the famous SA Red Shield on their shirt. I was also looking forward to seeing Agnes again - having last worked with her when she was helping to manage the Tsunami relief programme in Indonesia.

While we were waiting for Agnes, Evelyn and I sat in the small park area opposite the airport. After a while 2 young boys came up to us. One of them, I guess aged about 11 or 12 said to me in broken English, 'my parents are dead - please will you adopt me?' It was one of those moments. I've never been asked that question before - how on earth could I answer? Of course, I had to say that this was not possible. He looked at me, 'why not?'

How do you measure the desperation in those few words? In Haiti such a request is sadly not unusual. In our camp we have 32 unaccompanied minors - which, if you remove the technical vocabulary, simply means they haven't a single living relative in the world to care for them. Remember these children in your prayers and pray we might find ways to reassure them they are not alone.

You will remember me saying that our food trucks to Petit Goave got held up by the demonstrations yesterday. They stayed outside the UN compound last night and the distribution began early this morning. We had designed a security plan but the local UN troops decided they didn't approve of our proposal to block the road. They had their own plan. After a short while the distribution had to be halted because the crowd was uncontrollable. A call from our team leader to the senior UN officer in Petit Goave brought another 30 troops and an agreement to implement our original plan. I'm told that it then went smoothly! Nice to know that our experience is teaching us a few lessons. The good news was that around 200,000 meals were distributed, along with water. I think that brings us well past the 1.5 million mark to date.

As this day draws to a close the thought on my mind is not the unknown 200,000 but the face of that young boy and his simple but incredibly challenging question, why not?'