Tracey Badin, 6, was recently taken in by her cousin, Pauline Louis, 37, and her husband, Wilbert Jean-Louis after the girl's parents died. The couple were among the first to relocate from Place St. Pierre, a squalid tent city in Petionville into a neighborhood. The couple has been struggling to come up with the $325 to renew the rent on their tiny accomodations. Jean-Louis is a carpenter and Louis sells used clothing. Both say times are tough and there is no money on the streets. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Pauline Louis, left, talks about life a year after leaving a squalid Petionville camp. Among the first displaced Haitians to find refuge out of the camps and back into a neighborhood, she wonders if she would have been better off with a job over a $325-a-year shack that she and her husband, a carpenter can ill afford. Listening to her is her brother-in-law, Gerald Jean-Louis, 22; orphaned cousin Tracey Badin and neighbor Alexandra Benoit. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
A year after the first group of Haitians began moving out of the tent cities in a government-led initiative, their feelings of hope and happiness are turning to disappointment and disillusionment. The "Jalousie," or Jealousy slum above Petionville in Haiti's capital has become home for untold numbers of former camp dwellers who relocated there with international assistance in the form of a $500 rental subsidy. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Alexandra Simin, 25, thougth she had hit the housing jackpot when she got a $500 rental subsidy to help her move out of a fetid tent city in Petionville. But a year after the Haitian government began moving Haitians in droves out of the most visible camps and back into neighborhoods, feelings are mixed. Life today is tougher than before the quake, says Simin, a mother of two who was facing her second eviction in as many months after she was forced to leave the tiny shack she rented in a mountainside slum after she could not renew her lease. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Alexandra Simin, 25, thougth she had hit the housing jackpot when she got a $500 rental subsidy to help her move out of a fetid tent city in Petionville. But a year after the government began moving Haitians in droves ouf of the most visible camps, tent dwellers say disappointment and disillusionment are taking over. Life today is tougher than before the quake, says the mother of two who was facing her second eviction in as many months after she was forced to leave the tiny one-room shack after she could not renew her lease. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Alexandra Simin, 25, walks through Jalousie, a mountaintop slum community overlooking Petionville. Untold numbers of former tent dwellers, victims of the Jan. 12, 2010 earthquake, have taken up residence in the slum after being apart of a government rental subsidy program. A years later, many say it's clear the government and international community had no plan other than to get them off the public squares. Simin, a mother of two, was facing her second eviction in as many months after she was forced to leave the tiny shack she rented in a mountainside slum after she could not renew her lease. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Tracey Badin, 6, was recently taken in by her cousin, Pauline Louis, 37, and her husband, Wilbert Jean-Louis after the girl's parents died. The couple were among the first to relocate from Place St. Pierre, a squalid tent city in Petionville into a neighborhood. The couple has been struggling to come up with the $325 to renew the rent on their tiny accomodations. Jean-Louis is a carpenter and Louis sells used clothing. Both say times are tough and there is no money on the streets. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Tracey Badin, 6, stands in the walkway of the tiny concrete shack her cousin Pauline Louis lives in. Louis, who has taken Tracey in after her parents died, moved into the accomodation from a camp in Petionville as part of President Michel Martelly's initiative to clear out some of the most visible camps. But a year after the government-assisted move, Louis and her husband, Wilbert Jean-Louis are struggling to come up with the $325 to renew their lease for another year. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
After two years of living in a tent on the Champ de Mars, Jean Guerrier Sanon, 27, finally got a chance to get a real roof over his head when the government began clearing the public plaza. But with his year's lease due to expire in February, he says he doesn't know where he will go. He's been unable to find a job to renew the $500 lease, and his parents, who used to help him out, no longer can after their crops were ruined in Hurricane Sandy. Sanon says he's grateful he got out of the tent, but wishes the government and international community had a plan for what should come after. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Jean Guerrier Sanon, 27, stands in the hallway of the building in which he lives. He's renting a bedroom for $500 with the help of the international community as part of a Haitian government relocation program. Sanon, who lived in a tent on the Champ de Mars public square said the fact the tents are all gone is a "big victory." But with him unable to find a job to renew the $500-a-year lease on his place, he said he wishes the government and international community had more of a plan for what should come after clearing people out of the camps. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Gerald Jean-Louis, 22, lives with his brother Wilbert and sister-in-law Pauline Louis. He recently joined them for the countryside hoping to find a better life in Haiti's capital, Port-au-Prince. But instead, what he has found is tough times among a people "who no longer dream." His brother and sister-in-law were among the first tent dwellers to relocate from Place St. Pierre, a squalid tent city in Petionville into a neighborhood. The couple has been struggling to come up with the $325 to renew the rent on their tiny accomodations. Wilbert Jean-Louis is a carpenter and Louis sells used clothing. Both say times are tough and there is no money on the streets. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Before Haiti's Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake, Pauline Louis scraped a living by selling stylish secondhand American clothes. These days, they hardly sell. Among the first displaced Haitians to find refuge out of the camps and back into a neighborhood, she wonders if she would have been better off with a job rather than the $325-a-year shack that she and her husband, a carpenter can ill afford. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Jean Guerrier Sanon, 27, stands in the hallway of the building in which he lives. He's renting a bedroom for $500 with the help of the international community as part of a Haitian government from camp to neighborhoods relocation program. Sanon, who lived in a tent on the Champ de Mars public square said the fact the tents are all gone is a "big victory." But with him unable to find a job to renew the $500-a-year lease on his place, he said he wishes the government and international community had more of a plan for what should come after clearing people out of the camps. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Three years after Haiti's Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake, the picuture is mixed, say humanatarians. Out of the flood of international assistance came better access to water and sanitation. But with Haitians still facing tough economic times -- rising food prices, unemployment and deepening poverty, the country has to find a way to transition from short-term humanatarian assistance to long-term sustainable development, they say. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Three years after Haiti's Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake, the picuture is mixed, say humanatarians. Out of the flood of international assistance came better access to water and sanitation. But with Haitians still facing tough economic times -- rising food prices, unemployment and deepening poverty, the country has to find a way to transition from short-term humanatarian assistance to long-term sustainable development, they say. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
There years after Haiti's Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake, the picuture is mixed, say humanatarians. Out of the flood of international assistance came better access to water and sanitation. But with Haitian still facing tough economic times -- rising food prices, unemployment and deepening poverty, the country has to find a way to transition from short-term humanatarian assistance to long-term sustainable development, they say. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Haitians displaced by Haiti's Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake, say they are still facing tough times. With no jobs, they are struggling to keep a roof over their heads, even in slums like "Jalousie," or Jealousy, a teeming mountaintop community overlooking Petionville. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
After two years of living in a tent on the Champ de Mars, Jean Guerrier Sanon, 27, finally got a chance to get a real roof over his head when the government began clearing the public plaza. But with his year lease due to expire in February, he says he doesn't know where he will go. He's been unable to find a job to renew the $500 lease, and his parents, who used to help him out, no longer can after their crops were ruined in Hurricane Sandy. Sanon says he's grateful he got out of the tent, but wishes the government and international community had a plan for what should come after. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Pauline Louis, left, talks about life a year after leaving a squalid Petionville camp. Among the first displaced Haitians to find refuge out of the camps and back into a neighborhood, she wonders if she would have been better off with a job over a $325-a-year shack that she and her husband, a carpenter can ill afford. Listening to her is her brother-in-law, Gerald Jean-Louis, 22; orphaned cousin Tracey Badin and neighbor Alexandra Benoit. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
A year after the first group of Haitians began moving out of the tent cities in a government-led initiative, their feelings of hope and happiness are turning to disappointment and disillusionment. The "Jalousie," or Jealousy slum above Petionville in Haiti's capital has become home for untold numbers of former camp dwellers who relocated there with international assistance in the form of a $500 rental subsidy. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Alexandra Benoit visits the home of a neighbor, Pauline Louis, who has been struggling for several months to come up with the $325 she needs to renew her lease for another year on the tiny space she rents in a mountainside Port-au-Prince, Haiti, slum. A year after the first group of Haitians began moving out of the tent cities in a government-led initiative, their feelings of hope and happiness are turning to disappointment and disillusionment. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Haitians displaced by Haiti's Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake, say they are still facing tough times. With no jobs, they are struggling to keep a roof over their heads, even in slums like "Jalousie," or Jealousy, a teeming mountaintop community overlooking Petionville. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Wilbert Jean-Louis, a carpenter, says before the Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake his hand-crafted headboards and china cabinets sold. Today, they go weeks and months collecting dust and rain. More than a year after he and his wife thought they had won the housing jackpot as part of a government-led rental subsidy program, they are losing hope as they find it increasingly difficult to make a living. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Wilbert Jean-Louis, center, shows two young men how to properly hand carve a headboard. A carpenter, Jean-Louis says before the Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake his hand-crafted headboards and china cabinets sold. Today, they go weeks and months collecting dust and rain. More than a year after he and his wife thought they had won the housing jackpot as part of a government-led rental subsidy program, they are losing hope as they find it increasingly difficult to make a living. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Wilbert Jean-Louis hand carves a headboard, which more than likely will not find any buyers. A carpenter, Jean-Louis says before the Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake his hand-crafted headboards and china cabinets sold. Today, they go weeks and months collecting dust and rain. More than a year after he and his wife thought they had won the housing jackpot as part of a government-led rental subsidy program, they are losing hope as they find it increasingly difficult to make a living. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
The quake-damaged workshop along a busy Petionville, Haiti, street has no name, but every day workers can be found carving headboards and building wooden china cabinets. Since the quake it has been increasingly difficult to sell the items, workers say. A year after the first group of displaced Haitians began moving out of the tent cities with the government's and international community's help, many are disillusioned. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
As Haiti prepares to commemorate the third anniversary of the Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake, the number of displaced Haitians living in tent cities has dropped from 1.5 miliion shortly after the disaster to 610,000 just before President Martelly took office in May 2011 to 347,000 today. Those still living in tent cities like Place St. Anne, a public park, in downtown Port-au-Prince say they too want a chance to get out with a year's rental subsidy. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
While former tent dwellers say neither the Haitian government nor international community seems to have had a plan for them after getting them out of the camps, those involved in Haiti's reconstruction say there has been progress. Among it: the most recognizable building and symbol of power in Haiti -- the National Palace -- has finally been razed. The site of the presidential palace is now an empty space, waiting to be rebuilt.
PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Mario James Michaud, 37, is a camp leader at Place St. Anne, where displaced quake victims recently protested their living conditions and have clashed with students at a school across the street. Both tent dwellers and students say they are fed up with the situation three years after the disaster. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
With Haitians leaving the tents for the slums, concerns over public health are a big issue. A doctor at Les Centres Gheskio examines Tuberculosis patient Porky Henry, 25, in the clinic. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
Students in the Village of God, a slum in Port-au-Prince, have been vaccinated against cholera as part of an effort to protect Haitians against the waterborne epidemic. The children were vaccinated through Gheskio, a Haiti clinic that increasingly has been working in the slums since the Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake. PATRICK FARRELL / MIAMI HERALD
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