Anatomy of a Village Shelter Distribution

By Adam Koons, IRD Haiti Emergency Team Leader and IRD Director of Relief

The rains are coming and people are living in tattered, porous semi-covered structures of salvaged cloth, bit of plastic, sticks, wood, metal and whatever. Our priority is to provide protection in the form of “emergency shelter.” Ultimately we will be helping families build “transitional shelter” that should suffice for several years while the rebuild their own homes. For the moment, there is no time for that. It will come later. Since they already have “structures” of sorts, we are providing families with very high quality and strong plastic sheeting with which to cover their shacks. Each sheet is really quite large, about 15 feet by 6 feet, and each family get two sheets, to use, for the moment as they see fit. Later, with the additional lumber and other materials we will supply instructions for how to construct a well-designed and spacious structure. For now, against the rain, the priority is providing the plastic sheets.

Eventually we will provide support to over 3500 households. We are distributing it to 500 families at a time, or about 4000 people. We already distributed to the first 500 families recently. I am sure it is obvious that this is extremely more difficult and complex than it might sound.

First the preparatory work. From thousands of families, ten of thousands actually, how do we chose 500? We have already selected a set of villages to work in. In those our Haitian field staff asked local government leaders to select the 500 most vulnerable, i.e. poorest and in worst need, households, to start. To those households our staff gave vouchers, little squares of color coded and numbered paper. We had to tell the community members again and again and again and again that there would be many other distributions; that this was just the first; that just about everyone would eventually receive the plastic. This process only took two full days time of five staff members.

The staff also needed to select a central location within walking distance to all the villages: a specific spot that was safe and where access and process could be “controlled.” Then there was security. This is essential. With many thousands who are desperate for assistance and only hundreds receiving it, there is always the threat of “problems,” “disturbances,” or much worse – use your imagination. Or check the news reports, since this frustration-based “agitation” happens all the time. And it is perfectly understandable. So, as much as NGOs like IRD and others try to avoid and distance ourselves from direct military association, in this case we could not afford to. Through the UN, our security was arranged with the Canadian Military.

Then there is the transport. And the cutting. The plastic had to get from the UN warehouse (it was donated by the US government, by way of the UN) to our warehouse, for which we needed to request and schedule one of the tremendously overworked and overscheduled UN trucks. The plastic comes in big rolls, not sheets. At our warehouse, we had to arrange for a bunch of workers with scissors to spend two full days measuring and cutting it into sheets. Then we needed to find – a very difficult task right now – and hire and negotiate a private truck large enough for the 1000 sheets of plastic, to load and carry it from our warehouse in Port-au-Prince to the delivery site in Leogane. Only 20 miles away, but with traffic, and poor roads, three to fours hours distant. Hard to imagine but that much plastic sheeting, for only 500 families, mostly filled a large 30 foot long truck. But maybe it was because there were also 500 rolls of duct tape!

Day of the planned distribution. The truck arrived at the warehouse late for the pickup, and then arrived in Leogane three hours late. But that was actually irrelevant. Because the distribution had to be postponed to the next day anyway. We were told that due to a communications misunderstanding there were no security forces available to assist us. So, clearly it was a no-go. So, back to the villages to let everyone know about the one day delay. Already hundreds had lined up waiting at the distribution site.

Next day. Actual distribution day. The truck full of plastic (and its owner and assistant) had stayed overnight at the Canadian Military base, for protection against looting. And we paid for a second day for the truck. After the drive from Port-au-Prince our various Haitian and international staff all met at the Canadian base to collect our escort for the 20 minute dirt road drive to the abandoned school which was serving as the distribution site. Our security detail consisted of 35 soldiers and two trucks.

There were dozens of people in the school yard and many hundreds waiting outside the gate, significantly more than had vouchers. Possibly thousands. Word travels instantly (actually since the previous days when the vouchers had been distributed), and the arrival of a big truck and military escort is not the best way to keep a secret. The Canadians expertly helped remove the people inside, organize the lines. They set up controls that would allow only voucher holders into the line.

Inside the school yard as we started unloading the truck to prepare, a touch of panic set in. We found that the plastic had been rolled in sets of ten. And they were huge. We had to find a large empty area and start as quickly as possible separating out sets of two sheets from the rolls. Remember, there were 1000 sheets, i.e. 100 boxes that had to be unrolled and re-separated. And the temperature was now about 90 degrees. And dusty.

The Canadians started letting voucher holders through the long roped control-way they had set up. Most of the family representatives that arrived to claim the plastic were women. Many of them older women. Invariably the huge, folded plastic sheets went onto their heads, and then we handed them one roll of duct tape also. Some received the goods silently and stoically. Some, mostly the younger women, smiled. And some meekly and quietly in Creole said “merci” or “merci an pil,” thank you very much. And they exited the school yard, walked down the street controlled and guarded by the Canadians, and off to their villages.

And, not unexpectedly, the process was not perfect. The fortunately sharp eyes of the Canadians, and our own staff, started catching counterfeit vouchers, even with the correct shade of green heavy stock paper. We even somehow found some already-used-and-collected vouchers resurfacing. (Our next set of vouchers will be much more difficult to duplicate, with more carefully controlled code numbers, names and signatures, and logos – we’ll see what happens). Again and again and again we, and the Canadian soldiers – every one of them was French speaking, to the credit of the Canadian military planning – had to explain to the masses of non-recipients that there would be other distributions and other opportunities soon again. That our goal, and the goal of the other aid agencies, was to provide every single household in need with the supplies and assistance they needed, but a little patience, as difficult as that was, was needed.

Almost three hours later the truck was empty. We were all totally exhausted, thirsty, soaked with sweat and covered with a thick layer of dust, and happy to be finished, and starting to feel a bit satisfied that we had helped so many families. But with so many more to go. And there was a huge pile of 100 large empty carton next to the truck. What to do with them? No problem at all. Sadly, but understandably, the cartons were in huge demand for the semi-protection. As soon as the school gates were re-opened, there was a mad rush to get the boxes.

For us the only thing left to do, back at the office, after cleaning up a bit, was to diagnose the process, find any weaknesses, discuss together what we could improve and do better next time. And then, plan our “next time” as soon as possible. And there would be many more.

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