Stadium refugees safe, hungry and alarmed by choppers (Feature)

By Anindita Ramaswamy Jan 21, 2010, 18:44 GMT

Port-au-Prince, Haiti - Two boys wearing surgical masks kick around a worn, deflated football in Haiti's national stadium. This is how children play in Port-au-Prince: The only appropriate gear is one that protects you from the smothering odour of death, acrid smoke of burning garbage and clouds of dust from the rubble.

The pristine green turf of the Stade Silvio Catore is dotted with tents, where refugees from the earthquake wait for international aid to arrive. Children lay around in the sun listening to music, women cook lentils, rice and beans on battered stoves and men discuss where the next meal will come from.

When the ground started shaking on January 12, and their world collapsed around them, many Haitians ran to the stadium because they knew they would be safe there - for once, they realized that it was better not to have a roof over their heads.

But more than a week after the earthquake, they say they have received no food or water, and the only assistance has come in the form of a rudimentary medical camp where those with minor injuries can be treated. Occasionally, Israeli and French doctors stop by and move the more serious cases to better-equipped centres.

The injured are brought in on wheelbarrows; two men carry a woman with her right foot wrapped in a filthy plastic bag. The rest wait outside the tent for a patient talking to an overwhelmed nurse.

'The population is suffering. You need medicines, but you also have to eat ... we need food, water, tents, mobile toilets,' one man said. Others said they would go out each day to scavenge for food, in order to keep starvation at bay. They're painfully aware of the fact that there is food available in the city - it just isn't reaching them.

As if they didn't have enough to worry about, there were rumours of a plan to oust them from the stadium to make space for US troops to land their helicopters. Word had spread of a powerful Haitian brokering the agreement with the soldiers. The helicopters whirring overhead intensified the paranoia.

'In Haiti, when someone is well-positioned, sometimes he's the one who has the right to talk,' said refugee Garbans Labbey, adding that if the US Marines really wanted to help then they could land their choppers elsewhere.

As four US soldiers entered the stadium, they were quickly surrounded by a large group of survivors, few of whom could speak English.

'We still have family buried in the rubble and I told the soldiers we are strong and they should use us in rescue operations,' said Roberson Joseph, a tour operator who used to ferry tourists between the Dominican Republic and Haiti.

'There is a saying here that one hand makes things heavy, but two hands make it lighter,' he said. 'But they don't want our help.'

'We have no more tears. Everyone has faced death here. We want to eat, just a little bit. We want a few sips of clean water. Is that too much to ask for?' Joseph said.

While there appears to be no assistance for the desperately needy at the stadium, the global football community is organizing fundraising events to help the earthquake survivors. Unlike the neighbouring Dominican Republic, where baseball rules, Haiti is a football-crazy country. The Haitian Football Federation has lost at least 30 people, including an undetermined number of players.

But hunger overrides everything else. Joseph, the tour operator said: 'Right now we are living from day to day, to eventually die.'