Intense – Jon Rose

Sometimes experiences are difficult to put into words. The ones so rich, that you can actually feel yourself changing right then and there. I guess the best word to describe yesterday is INTENSE. Each day seems to get more and more enhanced. Maybe its because I’m getting more in rhythm, or maybe because I’m pushing a little harder – probably a combo of both.

I went back to Delmas 31, with Sylla, first thing in the morning. We brought another local with us to drive, so that Sylla could focus on translating. Dr. Raul Ruiz, our chief staff doctor, decided to tag along as well. Once again, we had no real plan other than giving goods to the 2 or 3 other camps located near the one we did the previous night (Syla’s family’s camp).

We packed a bunch of product into the back of the truck. It’s a little pick-up, with a metal cage welded over the bed, but still open entry to the back. I felt a little weary about going into the thick of it with so much product exposed and really no manpower. When we do food drops to areas like this we have security, etc. Once again I had to trust my gut and charge onward.

There was one thing that we were unaware of though – word had gotten out from the previous night. People from Sylla’s family’s camp had already started using the systems and word was spreading like wildfire about how clean their water was. Apparently one woman said her baby had diarrhea for two weeks and it finally stopped with only one nights worth of filtered water. Coincidence? Maybe. Although, clean water will do wonders for just about anybody, especially a baby. Whatever the case, the local word-of-mouth news network certainly messed up our strategy to fly under the radar.

We arrived at the first camp and as soon as I pulled out some materials to do a demo, Dr. Ruiz and I found ourselves pinned against a wall … on the INSIDE of the compound! The truck was parked outside and Sylla was trying to organize the crowd. Everyone was hustling to form a line because they thought I was going to give stuff out one by one. All of the merch was still in the truck and Sylla had asked some guys he knew from the neighborhood to help with crowd control while we did the demonstration. I felt claustrophobic and trapped.

Whenever I’m in situations like this though, somebody random always comes out of nowhere to help … like an angel of sorts. In this case it was a man named Jean Paul. Right away he started organizing the crowd, and they listened to him. I found out later that he is a community organizer for that area and not only did he obviously have the respect of the people, he also had an office with a lockable door next to the camp. I knew I could give him all of our filters & buckets and he would then get names to distribute them at a later time. It was the only option. Had we tried to give stuff out from the back of the truck, it would have started a riot – no doubt in my mind!

People were already agitated and once again we didn’t have enough for everyone, and there never is – the numbers are just mind boggling, so there’s just never enough.

After my demo, Jean Paul and his crew somehow got about half of our stock unloaded, through the crowd, and into his office. I exchanged info with him and he said he would update me once the filters had been distributed. Dr. Ruiz and I climbed into the back of the truck with the rest of our goods AND, the guys who watched it for us.

As we pulled away, someone came out of nowhere, reached through the cage, and stole a filter right out of the box.

I realized that they weren’t getting out. Sylla said that he promised to give the guys who did security for us some filters, in return for their efforts. Of course I was more than happy to do so. So we stopped a little ways down the road and I quickly pulled out some stock for them.

Instantly the truck was mobbed again. I banged on the tailgate for the driver to move. As we moved away from the growing crowd a man, in a beanie, started yelling at me in English – “Why do they get some and not me? Huh bro? What about me?!” I could see the desperation in his eyes and frankly, I couldn’t blame him for. He started running after us and since we were going so slow, he got within a few feet from my leg, which was hanging over the tailgate. He yelled some more and began to lunge towards me. The driver accelerated just in time. The guy stood in the middle of the street with his arms raised. As we got further and further away, I watched closely at his shrinking silhouette.

Lesson Learned! and thankfully, not at the cost of anyone’s safety. What happened there, was exactly the reason why I only try to work with the bigger local networks to help organize and get our supplies out. But, I have always loved the intimacy of a grassroots, street level drop. I’ve done them many times in villages, all over the world, and it always works great. But this is a completely different scenario. The urgency that accompanies catastrophes completely changes the whole dynamic.

Sylla and I agreed that he and Jean Paul would meet at a later time to coordinate a covert drop for the rest of the goods I had allocated for that area.

In retrospect, I can clearly see we were only one click away from a serious predicament. I’ve said it before, but I really do believe that in doing this work, from the heart, I am protected. I have to trust that … or else I have nothing.

I’m in my tent and though it’s a crystal clear evening, I put my rain-fly on so I can have some time to myself … I need it!

Much love,
Jon Rose