Orphan Evacuation Update

Last night Patrick and I received encouraging e-mails from CCAI (our US adoption agency). Paperwork seemingly is coming together quickly and with the new passage of Humanitarian parole for Haitian orphans, the evacuation of the kids in the orphanage (and thus Salomon) is looking all the more imminent. “Get ready!” they told us, encouraging us to stay close to the crèche because when the evacuation happens, there likely will be little lead time (hard to believe in Haiti and its uniquely relaxed sense of time). We talked to Pierre at the orphanage last night to confirm that they were indeed getting ready to mobilize the kids.

Wow. All at once. It seemed too fast, too sudden. We had made plans to help CONASPEH, to deliver water and medicines to communities. And yet now in the dark of night, we had to pack bags and get ready. A strange sense of shock took over. Are we really leaving? Now, when there is so much to do? Feelings of joy in the anticipation of seeing family and friends intermingled with the sick ache of abandoning our Haitian friends at their darkest hour. Sure we'll come back, but it is hard to leave regardless of homelessness and dwindling supplies.

This morning we answered a phone call at 5am from Pierre explaining that the orphanage was planning on mobilizing the children at 7am and we were to meet them there. Groggy with sleep, we shuffled through the darkness, no electricity to check e-mail to see if our friends in the States could confirm it was all really happening.

At 6 this morning, Tara and Troy were down to help us get sent off. Suddenly I felt my head swimming. Again. The dishes rattled, the floor pitched. We ran for our sleeping children, and soon the house emptied itself of its sleepy inhabitants with one of the biggest after-shocks since last week’s quake. Later we learned that it measured 6 on the Richter scale. Once again, thankfully, the Livesay home held strong.

However all our nerves have just about had it with such trembles. My legs shook long after the ground stopped moving. Flashes of all that came to pass a week ago were hard to shake long after the earth settled once again. Thanks to a few housemates running out in little more than a sheet, we were able to wriggle out of the lingering nerves with laughter.

Patrick and I arrived at the orphanage today to meet 3 of the For His Glory orphanage board members who arrived last night. They were interested in heading to the embassy to put pressure on the bureaucracy from this end. Patrick and I offered to drive and off we went.

The scene at the embassy is growing more obnoxious as the days stretch into weeks. Hundreds of Haitians, from newborns in their mothers arms to the elderly toting walkers, stand in overlapping lines in the heat of day without food or water, waiting to be issued travelers’ visas. Securing a border around the building stands a mix of US military troops and guards from the embassy. Traffic sludges by the embassy as waves of people pour in to join in line or take their chance at the gate. We ran into a CONASPEH student while there who told us that he was here to get a visa because the US was letting all Haitians in. We explained our doubts, but he was not to be deterred.

We were able to get into the embassy relatively quickly as American citizens working with orphans, and were escorted by an assertive official with a gun strapped to his thigh and another to his back. We waited in one line after another and eventually found someone who knew of the orphanage, reviewed the paperwork and sent us out after only short consideration with instructions that each file needed a picture. Files weren't complete. There was nothing else to be done today.

Typical, I thought. Bureaucratic delay. The news came as more of a blow to the board members who had high hopes of securing visas in one fell swoop.

So we drove back, a little defeated, in the same stand-still, stifling traffic, but this time a little quieter and devising what to do next.

The exhaustion following the emotional marathon starting at O'dark hundred is weighing heavy on us tonight. We'll await more official news from CCAI or the embassy tomorrow. We have to coordinate Solomon's exit with the orphanage kids while securing visas and plan to help fly the children into the States on the "orphan plane" when the magical visas finally come to be.

We know many people have been busy State side advocating on behalf of Haitian orphans and their adoptive parents-to-be. We know certain Senators and Congressmen are doing what they can to put pressure on the State Department and USCIS. We thank you all for your prayers and advocacy as we tread the thick waters and jump the hoops to get our children home.

Hopefully tomorrow the only moving and shaking that goes on is with papers processed and aid distributed. I don't know how you Californians do it. I'm so over the quakes. Give me a tornado any day. :) (There's no place like home *click*click*)