Interacting with International Aid

When I Googled ‘Anse-à-Pitres’, in addition to articles about its relevance as one of the four main land crossings between Haiti and the Dominican Republic and as an area defined by its camps sheltering many Haitian migrants and Dominicans of Haitian descent coming from the Dominican Republic, a bulk of the search results were narratives by journalists, international development and aid practitioners writing about their experiences. This is instantly reflective of warnings from NGOs telling us to be mindful that the people we will be meeting are inundated with an international presence that they do not always perceive as leading to immediate relief.

As we drove into one such camp in Anse-à-Pitres, ten of us on the back of a pickup truck, our first interaction took place a little outside of the camp with a rather old man rushing out of his settlement, shaking his fists and screaming after us. The translator explained that this man was angry that those with food aid tended to go past him, to the others in the camp. This reinforced the need for being cautious an honest with the people about what we were doing there – we are students conducting research, research that we hope will create awareness about this situation and divert resources to help them; however, we are unable to provide any immediate tangible aid at the time.

Before going into the camps, we saw women carrying USAID bags, UN cars and logos in multiple places including UN Food and Agriculture Organization trucks and other signs of an overwhelming presence of international aid channels. Yet, one is forced to consider the extent and effectiveness of these schemes, in the short run and long run, when confronted with the grim helplessness that underscored our conversations that day.

The conspicuousness of a group of foreigners was evident upon our arrival in the camps, with curious glances and what seemed like hesitant inquisitiveness. However, after a disclaimer of sorts from our translator about who we were and what our purpose was – and the admission that we did not come with direct aid – the gradual swelling of the crowd around us revealed their desire to just be able to tell their stories and have someone listen productively.

As some told of their personal journeys and instances of injustice, others rushed back to bring their forms of identification to add to the contention that they had done everything they could have – highlighting a sense of loss, helplessness and having been wronged that is seldom captured in static depictions of these camps that focus more on the poverty that is clearly prevalent than his decisive feeling that this journey that was forced upon them is perhaps unfinished.

Amidst this chaotic discussion, the man who had shouted at us as we entered the camps came along with his ID cards to tell us his own story as well, affirming my inference that while they certainly needed immediate aid in the form of food, clothing and shelter, they wanted more to be able to move on from this empty instability – they wanted to be heard wholly, about where they came from and where they should be, such that it leads to real change, without merely being fit into static pictures of where they are right now.