The Days of Noah

The images flooding our television screens showing Governor General Michelle Jean's visit to Haiti revealed her remarkable personal odyssey as she toured the ruins of her homeland. Defense Minister Peter McKay was with her as they saw Jean's sister in Jacmel, a cousin and an uncle at a mill Canada was in the process of refurbishing, and he felt the emotion of the moment.McKay told me of the deep impact Canadian troops have been leaving in the reconstruction effort. He spoke of 3-4 story buildings that were "pancaked" in such a way that it appeared as though a "giant had stepped on them." His pride in the troops was contagious. To date, they have delivered 2 million litres of water and 1.3 million meals. Over 20,000 people have been treated for injuries and he was shocked to discover that there are as many as three million internally displaced people. To assist with this, Canadian troops have constructed a medical clinic and are averaging 15 small framed houses a day. He has every right to be proud, as has every single Canadian. I appreciated his heartfelt briefing.It's a race against time for all relief workers, and most especially the Haitians themselves. Last Saturday there were floods in the southwestern part of the country, and rains began arriving Thursday, then Saturday and Sunday as well. It is the imminent arrival of the rainy season that causes the most worry at present. What will happen to the 16,000 living in flimsy shacks in an outdoor plaza, or the 70,000 who have occupied a nine-hole golf course above the capital? No one knows, and that's worrying.For the leaders of Haiti and the relief organizations themselves the choices are drastic and limited. When the rains come, all bets will be off. Do they permit people to stay in fragile settlements where there is no hope of a future. The government has opted to send as many people as possible - tens of thousands - back to the devastated streets of Port-au-Prince before the rains arrive. Though the Prime Minister of the country approved the plan, he wonders at the prospects. Camps are being overrun, and if drainage is a problem now, it is nothing compared to what's coming shortly. There is so much rubble, nobody knows to where it should be moved.There are no easy solutions here. Most relief organizations fear the government's plan might be ineffective, but, in truth, there are no other choices. When the rains arrive, it is inevitable that the body count will grow and that the misery will mount. Mud will wash down from the mountains. The rains will fill every street, most devastated homes, and even the public places. No one, not the military, the government, relief organizations, or even the United Nations know how this will play out.The options are bleak, yet in the middle of all this chaos, despair, and occasional hope, stand our men and women in uniform. Instead of wrapping themselves in the Canadian flag, they have linked their own emotions to the collective travail of the Haitian people. Every bottle of water, building constructed, injury treated is administered through the hands and sympathy of these dedicated troops.The rains are coming ... soon. The challenge is too great to get it perfectly right. Like the days of Noah, the people will search for some kind of ark of rescue from the cataclysm but will be met instead by the caring embrace of Canadian troops, who will face the deluge with them. They will weep at what they behold and jointly celebrate those moments of hope. They are the face of this country in a world of pain. An ark would be good, but the best bet is to get ourselves behind our military and pray for their own emotions and victories in the difficult days ahead.