Dr. Franck Geneus with his 5-month-old niece Joelle. © CARE / Rick Perera
I've just returned from one of the most heartbreaking visits of my two weeks here: to meet the family of Dr. Franck Geneus, CARE International's gentle, dedicated health program director.
Their homes destroyed, his extended family of 30 is packed into Franck's brother's tiny house and yard -- from the littlest niece, five-month-old Joelle, to grandmother Inosie, who says she's 94.
Franck's father Ovanier, 64, and mother, Marie, 61, sit idly in the yard, restless and frustrated. Hardworking, middle-class Haitians, they've lost not only their home but their livelihoods: the grocery store on the ground floor run by Marie; upstairs, the private school where Ovanier employed eight teachers and taught 100 pupils.
Franck takes us to see the modest, tidy, pink-stucco villa, its three stories hanging precariously over the crushed basement, on the verge of crashing into the rubble-choked lane.
He was born in this house, grew up here, was married here. He intended to move his young family in when he returned to Haiti, full of hope at the prospect of running CARE's efforts to improve the country's struggling health care system. That was just two weeks before January 12. We all know what came next.
"It's my first time back here since the earthquake," Franck says, shaking his head. "I'm in shock."
He points through a huge gash in the facade that's spilling the guts of the house, including a large, wooden cabinet, battered and coated with dust. "My father and I built that cupboard, ten years ago," he says, his voice trailing off.
Funny how such small details can catch the heart of someone whose life has been forever changed by disaster.
And yet Franck is not destroyed. He is plunging into his work, readying CARE's strategy to manage camps for displaced people, address the threat of violence against women and sexual assault, and take on the daunting challenge of meeting the health needs of women and infants.
