STEVE INSKEEP, Host:
It's MORNING EDITION from NPR News. I'm Steve Inskeep.
DEBORAH AMOS, Host:
And I'm Deborah Amos.
AMOS: The president of Haiti says 7,000 people have been buried so far. That's more than the number of people killed on 9/11.
INSKEEP: NPR's David Gilkey told us what happened when he climbed a hillside in Port-au-Prince.
DAVID GILKEY: There's sort of six major arteries that go up this hill, and four of them we tried to go up were blocked with piles of bodies in the middle of the streets. I know there was some reports that people in the neighborhoods were doing this intentionally, out of anger for nobody coming to help them. I don't know the reason, but had to turn around four times due to the piles of bodies in the middle of the road.
INSKEEP: We'll be hearing from NPR's team of reporters in Haiti throughout this morning, including Carrie Kahn in Port-au-Prince.
CARRIE KAHN: The streets of the capital are chaotic as residents continue to try and pull loved ones from the massive piles of crumbled buildings. Dead bodies lay along side nearly every road. Those who made it out alive search frantically for medical attention.
(SOUNDBITE OF SCREAMING)
KAHN: At the tiny Eliasoch(ph), their main clinic, there are no doctors attending to a few dozen people who've made it to the undamaged building. The injured lay on blood-stained mattresses taking up every inch of the concrete floor. Jordani Fitzgerald(ph) says doctors have come by, but don't stay long.
AMOS: Yeah, no doctor. They come. They out.
KAHN: Fitzgerald says his family survived the quake, so he came to the clinic to sit with people who are here alone.
AMOS: I come here just for help people who don't have someone, to help them.
KAHN: Most of his attention has gone to an eight-year-old girl named Daphne(ph). She has a broken arm.
AMOS: You see her? She got no mother, no father. She is alone. I brought some food for her and help her to be, you know, comfortable.
KAHN: Fitzgerald says there were 11 people living in her home. She's the only one who made it out alive. Down the street, Lonardis Roche's(ph) mother and father got out, but he says he lost his daughter.
AMOS: She's still buried here, has not come out yet.
KAHN: How old is your daughter?
AMOS: She's 21 years old.
KAHN: Oh.
AMOS: Yeah.
KAHN: I'm so sorry.
AMOS: Yeah. We are - I've got - we've got so many people take out alive, take out dead, and we still have some buried there we can - we're going to try. You see these people here?
KAHN: He points to visible limbs exposed in the rubble of his crushed home and next-door business.
AMOS: No government come here, no help, no ask people if you can help us. What's going on? Nobody's coming. Nobody show up.
KAHN: A single police patrol car did show up with three officers. They didn't want to give their names. I asked them: What are they doing for the people?
U: (Foreign language spoken)
(SOUNDBITE OF CROWD CHATTER)
KAHN: They say emphatically, we are with the people, but we have nothing to give them. We have no help. As the government struggles, international aid is slowly making its way into the country. In the Port-au-Prince neighborhood of Petionville, a canine search and rescue team from Fairfax, Virginia combs a huge rubble pile of what was once a rehabilitation center for disabled children. Rescue specialist Darrell Casey calls to his black lab.
AMOS: Come here, bud. Come on, boy. Come here.
KAHN: A few minutes later, Figel Bruno(ph), one of the directors of the center, shows up. He's holding the luggage tags of one of his young American volunteers. He believes she's buried under the rubble.
AMOS: She's one of the volunteers.
U: OK.
AMOS: So, we remove three people. One dead, and two alive.
KAHN: Carrie Kahn, NPR News, Port-au-Prince, Haiti.