Both Oars In The Vocabulary of Disasters

Feb 5, 2010

There is the language of elections, of war and, of sports. There are terms peculiar to the economy and to fashion. Natural disasters also have their own vocabulary of key words—words that can teleport us into the reality they represent by causing images to involuntarily explode in our minds. 

Living in the aftermath of an earthquake, I have learned that “trapped” is such a word.  Crushed buildings line the streets looking like sat-upon birthday cakes, trying to goad you into thinking about those who survived the initial quake only to be held captive in the rubble. But you will not make it to the corner if you do.  So, “trapped” is expunged from daily conversation for now.

Somehow, I have even become adept at discussing the miraculous possibility that a friend’s family member may still be alive after ten days in the unnatural caves created by the quake without letting my mind contemplate what it would be like to be in her place—trapped.   Unfortunately, she did not make it.

I have also learned that “shock” in the term “aftershock” refers more to us than the earth. Ironically, the earth settles down with each subsequent trembling; we do not. We may be drawn from its clay, but we do not share the earth’s point of view on aftershocks. I have yet to meet a person who has said following an aftershock, “Wow, I feel a lot more settled now!” Aftershocks are like the bark of the dog that bit you. They are immediately unwelcome.

The toughest word of this particular disaster is “amputation.” Unfortunately, falling debris, when it does not kill, often crushes appendages.  Journalists have quoted doctors saying that amputation will be the defining wound of Haiti’s January 12, 2010 quake. While I have witnessed both local and relief doctors save limbs with the most amazing assortment of orthopedic erector sets, I have also seen far too many patients covered by sheets that fall flat in odd places.

Asked to translate for an English speaking orthopedic surgeon, I stroked the forehead of his twenty year old patient, hoping to reassure her that she was still young, strong and beautiful. She gesticulated to her missing leg and asked like a veteran of several survivals, “When will I get a prosthesis?”  The people of Haiti deserve an honorary degree in resilience and steeled pragmatism.

“Aid” is another word that gets bandied about a lot these days.  The world has rushed to give it, and there is no doubt that Haiti needs it. The devastation to the country is immense. But, this word conjures up its ugly partner, “dependence.” How does the world help without crushing the nascent, but significant, ability of Haiti to help itself? Imagine how quickly the infrastructure of any major U.S. city would atrophy if it were suddenly replaced completely by charity operations.  It is hard to resist just coming in and mowing the lawn while ignoring the sparse, but beautiful, flowers that have grown up here and there.

To avoid unnecessary dependence, more emphasis needs to be put on fixing the airport so normal air traffic can resume. There also needs to be more support to shoring up the heavily damaged commercial sector.  The aid caravans will leave someday; we need to keep the original trade routes open.

In the rush of a disaster, not all words are chosen well. Ever since I saw the first USAID banner roll in on the side of a semi loaded with food stating “Support from the American People”, I have wanted to make a call to the USAID PR writer who myopically overlooked the fact that any aid dispensed in this hemisphere is also going to the American people.  Aid with a pre-written thank you is bad enough, let alone one that is off-putting. Support from the people of the United States would at least be more accurate, even if it is still patting oneself on the back with one hand while giving with the other.

Disasters heighten one’s senses and uncover nerves. Words have a way of taking on larger meanings in such circumstances. I can’t imagine words such as “trapped,” “aid,” and “shock” ever being the same. Having fallen in love with Haiti, despite our roots as U.S. Americans, I will always be an advocate for not referring to citizens of the United States as “American.” 

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