A loving home

At the moment we don’t have water since the water pump broke again. Every day I establish new records in using minimum amounts of water to shower. When I wash I try to collect used water by means of a little bucket which I use to flush my toilet. Those are the things I think about before my workday begins. Next, we need to find a driver to bring us to a supermarket that accepts cards. It is complicated and risky to withdraw cash, so I only have 35 Gourdes (less than a US Dollar) with me. We want get some shopping done while the situation is still calm. This week, most of our international colleagues will be leaving for christmas. Election results of the second vote count are being announced and protests and riots are likely to resume once more.


Small businesses pop up everywhere among the ruins. Photo: Sophie Preisch

 Right now things are calm on the streets of Haiti’s capital. Everything seems peaceful. On every corner people are selling goods: fruits, phone credits, sugar cane, snacks, chicken, plants, vintage clothes and shoes, scrap metal, wheels and even medicine. On a dusty road with enough potholes to force us down to 12km/h, we pass a house where wedding dresses are sold. Two dresses hang in protective plastic covers beside the door, inside someone is sewing another one. Everything is makeshift. Soft kompa-sounds, palm trees and bright hibiscus blossoms contrast starkly with dust, stones and the chaotic traffic. Christian slogans are written on taptaps (colourful pic-ups used as public transport), walls and signs. Industrious small businesses indicate that not everything was destroyed in the earthquake while huge tent cities and sweating people repairing ruins by hand, one stone at a time, show how much was.

Transportation, or rather the lack thereof, is a constant issue marked by chaos, roadblocks and fuel shortages. Photo: Sophie Preisch

We pass a police car with its emergency lights on to the right and then a taptap to the left. On the next corner four boys run up to our car and start cleaning the windscreen. The supermarket in Delmas, quite a big area of Port-au-Prince, is about an hour away. Our driver tells us that he lives near by, but that it still takes him about two hours every morning to get to work and then about three hours every evening to get back. The public transport system is complicated and often it is entirely blocked by demonstrations or turmoils.

When we get to the supermarket, we buy some crayons and craft supplies for the children with donations from friends and family. It is a small christmas gift we want to give every one of them at the end of this eventful year.



While the children in the SOS Children's Village are safe, many families have to protect their scarce posessions from looters. Photo: Sophie Preisch

 Once we're done with our shopping we drive back to the SOS Children’s Village Santo. The 19 family houses were constructed in 1985 for a total of 190 children. This year 327 children are spending christmas here, and 73 more in the temporary shelters. For our SOS Mothers it is an incredible effort to care for more than 20 instead of 10 children. One mother says, "when you only have 10 children everything is easy. Food is always enough and when you clean the house it actually is clean afterwards. But with almost 30 you clean and it gets dirty again in the same instant. This was a hard year for us, but it was for everyone in our country".

At this point we want to express our deep appreciation for those women - SOS mothers and SOS aunties - for giving a loving home to our children, regardless of continuing difficult circumstances and an unpredictable situation in the country.

Christmas cookies under palm trees

"I'm wishing for peace", says Delva. "And a good president", adds Clorene, while Antoinette carefully braids her hair. "I just hope the city will be safe again. That you can leave the house without having to worry", answers Julianne. The SOS Aunties do not desire any material things for christmas. What they want is that life in Haiti improves. For all of them it is the first christmas they spend inside the SOS Children’s Village. They care for children in the temporary shelters that were set up on the grounds of the SOS Children’s Village Santo after the earthquake. "We will decorate our houses and the whole area, then we will cook and eat together", says Clorene. "I hope we can get some gifts for the children. They like toys and educational games. It is their first christmas in SOS Children’s Villages, all of the kids in the shelters came here after the earthquake".

SOS aunties from the temporary shelters discuss Christmas plans and Haitian politics - Photo: Sophie Preisch

The international team of SOS co-workers is also preparing for christmas. For many this means packing their suitcases and heading home to their families and friends. For others it just means to find a way to participate in Haitian christmas: exchanging stories and traditions, learning and teaching. And: baking cookies. First, we managed to get to the supermarket, which was difficult enough after last week’s turmoils on the streets. We bought ingredients very much like what we would put into cookies at home. Then we started preparing the cookies. At nine o'clock there was a blackout - usually we have electricity until ten o'clock in the evening. For the next three hours we were cooking in the lights of candles and mobile phones. It was raining cats and dogs while we mixed salted nuts with butter, eggs, flour, sugar and cinnamon. The result is delicious, you top it with peanut butter and chocolate. And on Christmas eve we will hopefully find out what traditional Haitian sweets are.


SOS mother Louianne with nine of her 20(!) children. This Christmas also marks her first year as an SOS mother - Photo: Sophie Preisch


Eating is an important part of christmas celebrations all over the world, and the SOS Children’s Village Santo is no exception. "Each group of houses will celebrate together. Everyone will prepare and then share their food. The children will dance and sing... and we will celebrate all day long, both on the 24th and 25th of December", says Louianne, SOS Mother in Santo. This christmas is also her fist anniversary as an SOS Mother. Looking back at this year she says: "In December of last year the former mother of this SOS house retired. I lived here with eight children. The peace of christmas lasted exactly until 11 January", she says with a sad laugh. Louianne still keeps her humour in spite everything that happened after the earthquake. "At one point we had 29 children living in this house. But that was not all: some SOS youth community houses were destroyed as well, so four of the teenagers also came back to live here. And then it was three SOS Aunties and me", she says laughing. Now Louianne lives with 20 children in the house. Her wishes for the upcoming year: "That my children stay healthy and that we can go on living here."

The rule, the exceptions and the normality of unrest

Normally, the flag is raised at seven in the morning, followed by the singing of the national anthem. But today is different. Children run to and fro across the schoolyard of the SOS Hermann Gmeiner School, the classrooms are empty and there is not a teacher in sight. There is also no sign of the students who don't live inside the SOS Children's Village in Santo, Port-au-Prince. "It's because of the elections", says 14 year-old James, "there's no school today".


As the riots spread all over the capital, children return home from the closed schools. Photo: Hilary Atkins

The students from the SOS Children's Village next door are officially sent home shortly after this; lessons are canceled for security reasons and offices will remain closed as well, since the way here is much too risky today. In this respect at least, the presidential elections have produced the result everyone expected: it caused riots and violent clashes. The key to survival here is to react to new situations every day and make decisions quickly. "Nobody should go out on the street today", says the guardian at the gate in the morning. "People are burning tires in the street and setting everything on fire. The protest aren't taking place anywhere near just yet, but we expect things to get worse throughout the day".

And sure enough, as the day goes on, the scenes of civil unrest are spreading. There are demonstrations against corruption and fraud, the television cameras show pictures of angry young men running through the streets of Port-au-Prince, the stench of burning tires wafts across the village grounds every now and again. The schools and other public facilities remain closed the whole day. Those who don't absolutely have to go out stay home. Both public and private transportation has become impossible due to the ubiquitous road blocks. Air travel has been canceled as well, only the helicopters are doing their rounds above the city. Haitian co-workers in the village say that while there have always been numerous demonstrations in Haiti, they can't recall the level of violence ever having been this high. The people of Haiti feel betrayed and nobody knows how the situation will develop. Meanwhile, the children react to the situation much the same as children all over the world would: they're happy they get a day off school.


In the long run, class sizes will have to be reduced to better focus on the individual child. Photo: Hilary Atkins


On a normal schoolday, 921 students are taught at the SOS Hermann Gmeiner School, double as many as before the earthquake. Some lessons are being held in the old school building which suffered no damage in the tremor, some take place in tents iset up in the school yard. The emergency relief programme is to be transformed into long-term solutions. This also implies a reduction of class size to allow better education for each individual child as well as additional training for the faculty. New solutions are to encourage long-term stability rather than immediate help.

Everyone hopes that the protests will ultimately lead to stability. As one protester puts it, the protests are like seeds and will continue until they have ripened into fruit. Taking that into account, it is safe to assume that this will not be the last day the schools stay closed. And while many adults gradually despair at the situation in Haiti, the children rejoice that they have the whole day to play as much as they like.

A man of few words

My co-worker and I are sitting on the terrace in the pale blue glow of our computer screens when all of a sudden a little figure emerges from the dark and runs towards us. Marc gives us each a hug and then stands behind us to watch us working. The 9-year old boy does not need many words to say a lot. Usually his reply to any question is a single word followed by a bright smile. He exudes calm and, as my colleague said, "he appears wise". Marc's presence made me wonder what his story was.

Marc is a man of few words, but he always has a cordial smile to give. Photo: Sophie Preisch

I got to know Marc by the name of "Chiquito" (spanish: small). He is the youngest of a group of children that rehearses a choreography on Saturdays. At one show a few weeks ago he was apparently the only child dancing in a group of SOS youth, all significantly older than him. Marc likes dancing - everyone can see that. To the question whether he would like to be a professional dancer he replies with a simple "yes". Asked for his career aspiration, though, he says "doctor".


Nine years ago Marc was brought to the SOS Children’s Village in Santo as a baby, barely a month old. He grew up in one of the 19 family houses with his SOS mother Wilna amongst his SOS brothers and sisters. Wilna is retired by now but she still visits the family and keeps in touch with her former SOS children - just as any part of the family would. Today, Marc shares his house with eight other boys, seven girls, two SOS aunties and his SOS mother Lannecie. Before the earthquake he lived here with seven siblings. Then, the house filled with 28 children and now, after some children could be reunited with their biological families, Marc is one of 16 kids in the SOS family house. He likes being here, and he especially likes playing soccer with the other children. Marc shoots all of this at me in characteristic one-word answers to my questions. He is striker, he adds.


Four of the children who came to live in his house after the earthquake on 12 January 2010, are now living in the temporary shelters that have been set up on the premises of the SOS Children’s Village in Santo. Each of the prefabricated houses is a home to five children and one SOS auntie, four houses make a unit and share housework tasks like cooking and cleaning. Mum Lannecie tells us that those children still come to visit her and the other children.


As she describes her SOS child Marc, she smiles: "Well, he’s very intelligent. He likes studying, he’s good at school. He writes poems. Marc is a good boy, he will be successful".


The first paragraph of this blog was written in a corner of the SOS Hermann Gmeiner School, where I temporarily use a desk as my working place. I was interrupted by a visitor: Marc came to me, bringing me his smile again. I did a short word-by-word interview with him: "Don’t you have classes?". Marc: "Yes", smile. "Where is your classroom?" Marc points at one of the tents in front of the school building: "there", smile. "And what will you do in the afternoon?" - Marc: "Work", smile. "What kind of work?" - Marc: "Homework", smile. "I am also working." - Marc "Yes". He keeps smiling at me for a few moments before he says goodbye and runs back to his class.

Dancing to an unstable beat

It began at the airport, where a Haitian band was making music before we even got on the bus to the airport gate. Canadian police men and women, who apparently were sent to assist during the presidential elections, started nodding with the beat. As I walk through the SOS Children’s Village Santo two weeks later, I see a group of boys standing around an empty plastic barrel dancing to the rhythm they are drumming on it. Two girls on the way home from school sing together as they balance their schoolbags on their heads. A few steps further on I walk past a house where children are practicing a choreography for their christmas show. Music coming from a radio from an SOS family house accompanies a group of children as they play. Music is omnipresent in Haiti and everything has it’s own rhythm.



Dany’s barbershop is exactly what it sounds like, except it is also a bar. Haitian compas tunes flood from crackling speakers at deafening volume. Several men drink their beers while the barbershop owner sways her hips in a slow shuffle. Next to the hairdresser's chair a couple is dancing cheek to cheek. Outside, two men get up and, keeping a one-meter distance, mirror each others movements. All this happens in the face of instability, as uncertainness in Haiti increases around the presidential elections. Just a few days later hundreds and thousands of Haitians fill the streets, clamoring for a system without corruption and economical injustice.


Dancing is an important thing on the caribbean plate. Children learn to feel the rhythm, dance and sing at the same time as they learn to walk and talk.



A sense of rhythm, dance and song come as naturally as walking and talking to children in Haiti. - Photo: Sophie Preisch

 Sunday morning, Ylasse is tired. Asked whether he would participate in the elections after work he reacts almost appalled: "No. That’s too dangerous. Haitians kill other Haitians". He’s in the last hours of his 24-hour shift as a guard. Every week he does three of those shifts. At the end of the month he earns about 6.000 Gourdes, which is about 150 USD. Prices in the supermarket are as high as in central Europe, for some products even higher. That is just one thing that corners Haitians more and more. And in this corner Ylasse is just one of many who decided to not participate in the elections, one of many who seem to be just waiting until a decision is made and life can go on.


For some days around the elections public life seems to be sleeping. Only a few means of public transportation remain operational, protesters on the streets keep others from leaving the house and most public institutions stay closed. On Tuesday 30 November the SOS School opens again, the SOS Social centre as well. Still, there are many co-workers who have to leave at noon since public transport is still unreliable. During the nights it sometimes gets noisy in Santo: it seems like small demonstrations take place just at the other side of the fence. But the noise is not just shouting, it is people drumming and singing. Meanwhile, Ylasse walks around the SOS Children’s Village, listening to bachata music on his mobile phone.


"There was quite a lot of movement", states Cap Haitien’s SOS Children’s Village Director Arrol Francoise on the Monday following the presidential elections. Fortunately, no one in the programmes of SOS Children’s Villages has been hurt. And fortunately, as well, Haitians know how to dance to the beat of the eternal back-and-forth between tranquility and frenzy.

The world on a soccer ball

"Chile" shouts a boy, indicating to Felipe that he should pass the ball over to him. The sun is already setting as this group of children of the SOS Children‘s Village in Santo runs after the ball trying to score as many goals as possible. "I did not know a single word in Haitian Creole when I came here", says the Chilean social worker Felipe, "but as long as we are playing soccer, language does not matter. I just came here, told five children to go to one side, five children to go to the other side, so we had two teams and started to play. You really don't need more than this to understand each other.“

The basic principles of soccer know no language barriers - Photo: Sophie Preisch

Felipe came here with the Chilean organisation "América Solidaria", which cooperates with SOS Children‘s Villages and provides professional staff. He has been picked out of many candidates to do this voluntary work with the organisation. Felipe was told that he would work in the Dominican Republic and was already well prepared, when he received a call one week prior to his departure. "They told me I‘d be going to Haiti instead. It was quite a change for me, but then I just said to myself: 'that‘s probably where they need me the most.'"


Working with children is important to Felipe. Here, he usually works with youths from the SOS Children's Village, so he decided to spend his spare time with the children. He has the idea of training boys and girls in soccer and probably organising a SOS Children‘s Village championship one day. "When I entered the children‘s village trying to get to know the families and the kids I did not think: I need to do that in order to be accepted here. I just did what I wanted to do. I wanted to get to know people."

Felipe sees soccer as a way of getting to know people without speaking their language - Photo: Sophie Preisch

These days you hear a lot of talking about aggression against white people, against the strangers here in the country. Indeed, says Felipe, there would be some dissatisfactions amongst Haitians with regards to international staff. "I do understand that. Everything is chaotic here, some organisations bring voluntaries for one week or two. Everyone starts working on a project, and leaves it after a few days. To me, that seems more like some kind of social tourism than actually helping this country to get stronger", Felipe says. To him, it is important to actually understand people and their culture to be able to work together.


Language, of course, is one big part in the act of getting to know someone. Felipe takes classes in Creole. "I‘m here for a year, so of course I want to be able to talk to people. But the matter of not knowing the language should not be a reason to avoid contact with people either.“ After all - all you need is a soccer ball.

Bonjou Ayiti!

All of a sudden I‘m torn out of my dreams by all those chickens clucking and fighting over their breakfast grain. It must be almost six o‘clock in the morning... and step by step I realise that a new day in the SOS Children‘s Village in Santo is about to begin.



"There is only one armed force in the children‘s village of Cap Haitien: the mosquitos", says my Haitian co-worker Samy, asked whether he knows how much the village was affected by the tense social situation in Haiti. After riots in this northern city, official buildings stayed closed for some days, children of the SOS Children‘s Village in Cap Haitien did not attend school last week. News about riots and conflicts in this country spread around the world, while I am spending my first few days here. So far nothing has threatened us in the village, but there are some security measures to be taken.


While the tension rises in Port-au-Prince, the children inside the SOS Children's Village Santo feel safe. Photo: Sophie Preisch


The presidential elections on Sunday 28 November ended in confusion and allegations of fraud. Houses, walls and ruins in the capital Port-au-Prince are still covered with posters of the 19 candidates. UN-peacekeepers have been accused of bringing cholera to this country; and during the past weeks and days the aggression against internationals here in Haiti has apparently been increasing.


But the situation is difficult for Haitians as well: "We don‘t know for how long people will be on the streets", says Francoise, an SOS Mother. "We need to buy food and prepare to stay indoors in case of riots. But if we go out it might already be too late, there might already be too many demonstrations, riots and barricades to bring everything home safely." Still, Francoise says, she has always felt safe here in the SOS Children‘s Village of Santo.


Everyday life does not seem too tense so far: as I walk towards my office - a metal table at the corridor of the SOS school - curious children want to know my name, want to touch me and start to wonder where the freckles on my nose come from. They kiss me, hug me, make fun of my poor language knowledge and ask me to take a picture of them. For every „bonjou“ I offer, I get warm smiles in return.


As I am sitting here, writing this blog, I am scratching the wounds that mosquitos left on my skin. This armed force, mentioned earlier by Samy, is fighting in Port-au-Prince as well. A rooster calls the chicken to an early morning meeting; a group of children from the SOS Social Centre passes by in single file, repeating what the caregiver sings to them. During this time of political tensions life in the SOS Children‘s Village of Santo just goes on... - and bit by bit I realise with satisfaction that I am part of this life now!