Hurricane Katrina remembered after Haiti's earthquake

The news of of the earthquake in Haiti reminded me a lot of Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. I was about to head down to New Orleans when Hurricane Katrina happened. So I wasn't there for the hurricane, but I went there shortly after and spent six months as a volunteer and living in a volunteer camp.

Much of what people need during these times is the same. The circumstances of an earthquake and a hurricane are different. Along the Gulf Coast, there was warning and most of the people evacuated. In the Haiti earthquake, there was no warning, so there were many more deaths and many more injured people. In most areas that were severely affected by Hurricane Katrina, people were not allowed into the area for an extended period of time. For people in Haiti, generally, there was nowhere to go. So, the immediate needs were different. And, because Haiti is on an island in the Caribbean, how help arrives and who goes will be very different.
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Seeing the destruction of Hurricane Katrina on television was a shock. I normally would not have a tv, but at that time I did, and I watched it for three days. Since I was planning to go to New Orleans in a few weeks, I looked online for a way to go there to help. I couldn't think of going anywhere else at the time.

I found one ad hoc group on the ground providing meals, clothing, and community for people returning to the area. This was outside of the metropolitan area of New Orleans. The was group formed by some of the Rainbow people around one of their portable kitchens. They were already experienced in feeding large numbers of people from a kitchen on a truck.

Hurricane Katrina took place days before the long Labor Day holiday weekend, which was also the weekend of Burning Man. The Rainbow people were joined by Burners after their event.

The reason why this group and residents were allowed in the area was because it was several miles inland. The area between the camp and the Gulf Coast was severely damaged, but at the point where the camp set up, roads were passable. Tech savvy members of the group maintained a web presence and called for volunteers. I chose this place to volunteer.

I began the drive down to the Gulf Coast with a stop in Atlanta. I did not have wifi on my computer at the time, but I did find a coffee shop with limited public access computers. I had a couple of things to do in Atlanta and checked for new messages from the group on the Gulf Coast a couple of times. Just as I was ready to leave Atlanta there was a message from the group that they were not accepting more volunteers, at least at that time - things changed rapidly.

After that, a notice that the municipality asked that the group leave after Thanksgiving. It was a well meaning request, meant to allow the residents to be independent and begin the rebuilding process without outside help. Later, it turned out, the mayor admitted that he regretted making the request because he realized people still needed help and the locals appreciated the community presence. There were many photos published of uniformed officers, volunteers, residents, and hippies side by side.

What happened around this time was an odd confluence – and different voices will tell this part differently, I'm sure. The Rainbow kitchen would leave and others, Burners and friends of Burners, would take over the operation. It was a kind of friendly take-over. They made arrangements to move the camp.

The notice that the operation in Mississippi would be closing brought my plans to a jarring halt. I knew no one in Atlanta. I took temp jobs, but I was homeless for a couple of months. In late December, there was another call for volunteers. The call was put out by someone I recognized from the former location, so I was able to piece together that it was the same organization in a different place. I responded, there was a 30 minute phone call in which I was on hold for more than 20 minutes. I arranged to arrive at the camp at the beginning of January, 2006.

The take-over group set up the kitchen and camp in St. Bernard Parish, an area just south of New Orleans with borders on the Mississippi River, the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet (MRGO), and the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans.

The State of Louisiana must be known as one of the most corrupt states in the country and St. Bernard Parish must have been known as one of the most corrupt parish in the state. The organization that formed, which no longer exists except in memories, also gained a scandalous reputation. Probably the only organization more corrupt than these was the Federal Government at the time. A politician stored cash in a refrigerator; a sheriff brought ATMs and casino machines to his home during the hurricane.

I came to three bridges were completely wiped out along Highway 90. And I visited two other encampments along the way.

When I arrived in St. Bernard, I looked for the person I had made arrangements to meet. I didn't ask anyone. Everyone seemed to be still in shock. I thought I would recognize him from the photos he posted. The next day, I continued to keep an eye out for him. It was half raining, half drizzling and cold outside, but I stepped out to walk around and someone spoke to me finally. It wasn't the guy from the phone call, but it was someone in charge. I related my story and he simply said that there was an orientation the following morning.

It turned out that the phone call guy had recruited me for a side project that wasn't wholly endorsed by the organizers. I met his girlfriend at lunch and learned that he wouldn't be back for two weeks.

The next morning, someone asked me to go with them to gut a house. I had the orientation to go to. But I joined house gutting crew the day after. In the days, weeks, and months ahead, I would be doing many different things, in many different situations.

The range of people who came to this place was wildly diverse. There were retired teachers and young burners; there were drug addicts and drug dealers, alcoholics, and people recently released from prison; there were cross-dressers and hermaphrodites, hippies and hangovers. Drug deals were common, and at least two rapes were reported and charges filed.

Green builders and permaculturists came, including a man who wanted to build concrete houses that he claimed would float in the next flood. Rarely did these ideas fit into the local culture. The one thing that did catch on was vegetable oil recycling for running diesel vehicles, but that was only because of the huge market for fried food in New Orleans.

There was greed, there was corruption, but there were many who came to help. And, when all was done, what people remembered was the place and the meals cooked for them.

What people need. Water. When the infrastructure is broken, there will be no running water. I read about a U.S. ship with a power plant and desalinization system on-board that could give out 200,000 gallons of its water daily, so maybe water needs are taken care of in Haiti. In St. Bernard and the Ninth Ward, sometimes people would go to a Red Cross truck and get meals to go and throw the meals away. I wondered why they went. Each bag contained one-half liter of water, one apple or orange, one ounce bag of chips, one ounce package of chips, and one styrofoam container of food. People needed the water and many threw the rest away.

What people need. Food. People will survive on MREs (Meals Ready to Eat in sealed packs), but food cooked locally will make people feel cared for. And community forms. Of all that I saw, this was the one most important thing that happened at the volunteer camp. There were three meals served every day like clockwork. Up to 3000 meals a day were served at the peak. People gathered and community formed without directors or leaders.

I read on some web sites that people were not happy about sending help to Haiti when so many are in need and homeless in their own backyards. But why did they need the earthquake to express this? When the camp in St. Bernard closed, there was food left over. There were truckloads of clothing carted away. Even after the hoarders and greedy had their fill.

The message I get from all this is this and what I want to end with is this: there is enough for everyone. There is more than enough. One of the greatest kindnesses anyone can do for themselves is to help someone else. It doesn't matter who it is or how it seemed to you in the midst of doing it. When it is done, you will remember something of that experience that will reveal the light inside you. That light will be reflected back to you over and over again.

I have written a couple of times before about my experience as a post-Katrina volunteer. There are many other stories and anecdotes to write. Here are links to previously posted stories:
Happy Birthday, Chance
Elegy for Rob Matson
Also, I've chosen to include a link to a small organization that I believe is doing good work within the Haitian community:
Haiti Project, Inc. link with brief description