Open Doors of ESMONO

A very special thank you to a friend of ESMONO school founder Otto Hegnauer! Thank you, Arthur, for the extremely generous contribution that was needed to reach the target amount! All the best to you and your wife. THAT is quite a gift! Thank you from Haiti and God bless you!

Anyone who also wants to send an empathetic signal can do so until 6.59 a.m. tomorrow, Saturday. All donations, minus fees, will go immediately, directly and in full to the school management account in Haiti.

Thank you very much for all your support - in any form!

P.S. Perhaps you could celebrate the 1st of August with your friends - and organise a small collection of donations? That would be 1 A! Magnifique!

If it hadn't been for that terrible earthquake in 2010, in which Otto Hegnauer's seaside villa hadn't been completely pulverized, and if the retiree hadn't thought and acted in such a socially and philanthropically minded way, the ESMONO would not exist. The ESMONO, at least ONE positive consequence of the horrific natural disaster.

The following is an excerpt from Hegnauer's book "ALMA ZOMBIE - The End of the World is Being Rehearsed in Haiti": His recollection of that day.

Goudou-goudou - 316,000 dead
Only the sky doesn't fall

Last night, I left my beautiful house, my tropical garden, and my beloved animals, unaware that I would never see them all again. My Mazda needed a new clutch, a repair that could only be done in the city. So that Tuesday afternoon we drove to the Black Mountains above the city. I wanted to stay overnight with Melissa and her family; she's been my guardian angel for ten years, and that turned out to be true again. In reference to my "sea castle" with its turrets on the coast, I call the simple stone house up here the "mountain castle."

The mountain castle lies 1,000 meters above the city of two million and the Gulf of Port-au-Prince on an erosional ridge; there is a wonderful view down to the city, the Rift Valley to the east, and the chain of lakes all the way to the Dominican Republic, and the Gulf to the west, which looks clean and deep blue from here. Midway between east and west, directly opposite me to the north, is La Vigie, the last fire-breathing volcano. We've already read about it.

At around 5 p.m., the mountains of the northern peninsula shone unusually, as if they wanted to say something, so I took a photo of the atmosphere. Shortly before 6 p.m., it began to rumble, thunder, and shake. The walls heaved back and forth, furniture and bottles crashed to the floor, the top floor collapsed, creating an indescribable rumbling. While the building was still shaking, the walls heaved back and forth like devil dancers, flat screen TVs and other devices clattered to the floor, vases and bottles flew and shattered around my head, I grabbed my wallet, papers, and keys, as well as my laptop, which was still in use, under my arm and dashed down the stairs from the second floor into the open air, thankfully unharmed. The third floor was just beginning to crash down. Keep your distance, just keep your distance! That was my perception, or perhaps one should say imagination, because my perception was no longer functioning. According to Melissa's account, I sat in shock in front of the computer, not knowing what was happening. Minutes later, I came to my senses. I was outside next to the house. There was a crashing and rumbling noise. Family members and neighbors were all around me, everyone screaming and in shock. What exactly happened will never be fully understood. I was certainly no longer "normal," meaning the way I was before—I still am not. I've never been normal at all. I'll write about the psychological and physical changes I experienced later; they happened and they remain. For the moment, I've had an indescribable life, a life full of adventure, and I've never been afraid before. Now I am!

A glance down the valley froze me. The two-million-strong agglomeration had disappeared under a brown cloud of dust, even the nearby suburb of Pétion-Ville lay beneath a cloud of dust; not a single house was visible. Boulders and other objects were still flying through the air; I wasn't alone in seeking "cover." Cover is the wrong term, because in this case that meant open skies, only the sky wouldn't collapse. But at the same time, protection from the flying wall fragments was needed, a contradiction in terms. We gathered together on the highest point of the Montagnes Noires, the Black Mountains. The women made a nest with some blankets; it was already getting dark. The strong tremor lasted for minutes, followed by smaller tremors that seemed to keep coming.

I was "fine" and had to realize that. First, shake off my shock. I had experienced many earthquakes, but never one like this. It reached 7.5 on the Richter scale. In Gresye, where I was supposed to die, it was almost an 8, I was told later.


I still had power in my camera battery for one last shot, which I took from our outdoor bivouac site. It served as my living and sleeping place for ten days until the evacuation – the others had to endure it for months. There was no electricity, no flashlights, no batteries, and no telephone.

No one thought about sleeping that night. And every few minutes, later every few hours, the aftershocks, which repeated themselves for months, came by the hundreds. Each time, they plunged us into trauma and terror. Even today, I can't distinguish between real quakes and traumatic ones and flinch at every tremor.

The top floor of the mountain castle had collapsed. But the central floor was still intact, apart from the flood of rubble and broken glass and a few cracks. The next day, despite the landlord's prohibition, I ventured into the house during what seemed like a 'goudougoudou' break to do some essential work. I searched for a dynamo flashlight to at least have some emergency light on the hard stone bed and tried to connect to the internet, which I temporarily succeeded in doing. Instead of one of my usual daily stories, I sent a message to my friends and readers: "Rescued from the inferno. For now, a sign of life for my friends and readers." There would be time for further explanations later.

Some found a battery-operated pocket radio that trilled snatches of gruesome information. The parliament and cathedral had been destroyed, the Lyceum in Pétion-Ville had collapsed, leaving hundreds of students studying, as had the largest shopping center, "Caribeenne," and hundreds of people were buried there as well. Two pastors had sought refuge in the local church and prayed, but then the church ceiling collapsed, killing them. In addition to parts of the National Palace, all ministries and other public buildings collapsed, and most members of the government were also killed. At the luxurious Hotel Montana, 100 of the 300 people buried were still awaiting arrival; the arriving journalists and specialists will have a hard time finding accommodation. The UN General and important leaders used to hold their meetings here. All hospitals were also severely affected, and the remaining beds were overcrowded.

At our refuge, prayers were being held, services were being held, singing and screaming from the wounded, from babies and children, from those who had lost their relatives and their homes, from the terrified; it was chaotic. Even unknown dogs growled and barked, seeking close contact with people, their tails tucked deep between their legs as a sign of their fear. That same night, my daughter called from Paris. She was panicking and wanted to know if Dad was okay, and she told me what I didn't yet know. Television was reporting nonstop about the disaster. You, dear readers, also had better information from the media than we, the victims. That's just how it is in the information society. Shortly afterward, the Swiss embassy wanted to know if I was still alive. The last calls that came through were a miracle, and my cell phone was working. But then there was radio silence; all domestic and international telephone contact ceased. At five in the morning, the government gave the all-clear over the radio – that was premature! – and columns of residents searched for their houses. The first thing for me was the internet connection, but that remained silent; the problem lay outside. Perhaps an antenna or a server had been destroyed, or the provider's house lay in ruins. Then email, Facebook, the internet, and other means of communication could also be down for a long time, possibly even in the Dominican Republic and Cuba, because meanwhile, word was that the earthquake was raging worldwide. So I wrote this column offline, hoping to upload it online later, with an unknown delay.

It was still a long way off. The air was filled with horrific screams. Screams of the injured, of people who had lost their loved ones, their limbs, their homes, or their possessions. I didn't yet know that I was among them. People ran around in panic, shouting sayings about Jesus, who had returned, about the Last Day, which had come, that one shouldn't be afraid but rejoice, that everything would be fine now, but everyone was panicking. They were dragging up the seriously injured, the occasional corpse of a family member who had been found again. In endless columns of one person, the voyeurs were trying to hurry down to the city along every path to see what there was to see, perhaps also to help. They must have gotten stuck somewhere in the chaos they had created themselves, never having reached the city.
From the air, the eerie soundscape was complemented by the rattling of helicopters as they ascended continuously into the dawning day to assess the situation everywhere, what was still standing and existing, and how and where help could be provided first. And now the call from the radio, the only thing left to do, was to leave the houses again, as new waves threatened... And more terrible news. A tsunami had raged and caused the sea to rise; surviving fishermen and coastal residents had fled on foot into the mountains. A hundred meters further down, beyond the Wildbach ravine, where the highway ends and there are meager parking spaces for the few villagers with cars, a crowd had gathered. They were homeless, coastal residents, and fishermen who had had to leave their homes because of the rising sea.

We, too, spent the day again in the "Nest," which overlooks night were provisionally covered. Fortunately, because on top of all that, it also started to rain. The radio blared that special teams equivalent to the Swiss Disaster Relief Corps had arrived: two from the USA and one from Canada. Throughout the night, one could hear the whirring of helicopters, apparently "standing" in the same spot for long periods, presumably to lift large parts of buildings away from the victims, or the periodic rattling of pneumatic drills being used to free buried victims.

[The book is 46 chapters or 247 pages long.]

A huge thank you to the last two boosters for a total of 400!

We can do it! With a good final spurt! We can't run out of steam, because the Esmonians are counting on us.
They've already ordered some iron. You have to take it when it's available.

Let's not disappoint them! We live in safety, we can go on vacation. None of that is possible for those hard-working people over there.

Thank you for all your support! And have a wonderful vacation. With a donation, doing something for others, they'll be twice as nice. Bet?

Have you always wanted to be chauffeured by helicopter or motorboat and more or less choose your own destination?

NOW is your chance!
Do something good and fundamentally important with the Boost, and enjoy & relax. With friends or family.
(Helicopter flight for 2 people / Motorboat rides on Lake Lucerne for 4 people)
Where else can you find something like this?

Check out the Booster offers, get informed. And since you've already donated yourself—thank you so much!—spread the word about the offers—and let new Boosters invite you!

Donates by
- www.wave-sport.ch
- www.roseheli.ch

Thanks a lot!

Do you know that feeling? You try, struggle, hope, do, and act – and yet it still doesn't go the way you want it to.

That's what's been happening to me over the past few days. Also with this project. And suddenly, 150 CHF arrive (a big thank you to Buchs AG), 50 from a major ESMONO sponsor – thank you so much, 300 from a former student (soo sweet, Karin!!), and 100 from a board member. And as the saying goes – hope dies last! Thank you!

At ESMONO, the kindergarten had its graduation day last week; once again, the school administration organized a pool – much to the delight of the children.

The state final exams for the 9th grade began on June 30th. These are taking place at several larger school centers. Let's hope for a great success – like in recent years. A dry spell of anticipation begins for the students. Whether they passed won't be known for about two months. If the decision is positive, many will transfer to a middle school. Realistic hope for a better life! Thanks to the support of Pro ESMONO.

The many necessary renovations will be carried out at the school at the start of the holidays – and everyone is eagerly hoping to be able to weld and install the iron doors. Thanks to your donation!

It's true: "Whenever you think you can't go on, a little light appears from somewhere..."

Thank you, dear Booster, that all of you are such little lights, and that other readers hope to become one.

Heat makes you sluggish, I agree. Does it also negatively influence donation behavior? No, maybe... you would say. A look at the booster activities says... more likely YES.

The paycheck just arrived, the weather is great, the weekend and vacation are just around the corner. What could be better?

"IT IS MORE BEAUTIFUL TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE," as the well-known saying goes. 14 boosters have already experienced this through your donations. Many thanks.

You are following in the footsteps of ESMONO founder Otto Hegnauer, who donated his retirement benefits to the school.
Did you know? 12 years ago, with Otto Hegnauer's support, we also launched a crowdfunding project to finance the two containers of school supplies.
Learn more about it here and meet Otti in his video. www.crowdify.net

12 years later, the school is considerably larger – and so are the problems – albeit caused by politics. What remains: The incredibly brave, thoughtful, courageous, and selfless school administration! For the good of the children! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

And what about the summer heat? It also makes you thirsty… to donate?

Woop woop! We've reached the FIRST thousand! And now the next quarter to the second thousand.

Many thanks to all the boosters, especially to the two anonymous ones who set the milestones today.

Woop woop! This is how every email from Crowdify starts, letting me know that someone has donated. It always fills me with joy, and then my mind automatically starts calculating. ...how much do we have now, how much is left, will we manage it? Who else could we beg...?

Then a family member comes along and says, "You can't keep bothering the same people..."
But I can. I can see how important these doors are for ESMONO.
I see how Melissa and her colleagues are committed, preferring to starve themselves so that others can have a better life.

I see how the rich treat the poor, beyond the bounds of good and evil, I see how business and politics disregard human rights. In Haiti.

I think people who selflessly work for the basic rights of others should always be supported. Regardless of their skin color, nationality, or race. For me, these are role models. People who nonverbally let me know through their behavior how good we still have it here. And how ungrateful we often are and how little we appreciate our luxuries.

Thank you to everyone who has donated several times already. Very generous.

Many thanks to the first four boosters! We are truly delighted!

And we assure you that the money is being invested wisely and managed carefully in Haiti.
The school administration is investing skillfully and honestly, taking care of everything.

An example?
Did you see the beautiful doll carriages and kindergarten toys in the video introduction?
Does it look like a well-to-do school? But also a bit like Switzerland? No – and yes.

The toys were delivered via container in 2013/14 for the construction of the school (some from Recycling Paradies – thank you, Karin Bertschi), as were the large, high-quality pots (many thanks to Noser-Inox, Ms. Warnebold).
These materials, like most of the others, are still in top condition 12 years later!
I'm always happy when I see them in pictures and videos! Exemplary care is being taken, including the library that was sent along, which was flooded several times and had to be cleaned with extensive cleaning!

All of this is testament to a wonderful, appreciative attitude and exemplary school leadership.

Don't you agree that your donation to this project is worthwhile, sustainable, and trustworthy?

Thank you in advance for any additional donations!

Today, June 18th, we are launching a very important project!

A school without doors? Can you imagine THAT?

No?
What is unthinkable and inconceivable HERE has so far worked in Haiti, at ESMONO.

The effects of the prevailing gang violence are now so severe that ESMONO, a school for disadvantaged children above Pétionville, urgently needs to lock its premises.

Why?
Homeless people are sleeping in and around the premises, materials are being stolen; regular classes are being disrupted, and the school, as an island for the children, is beginning to falter.

Urgent action is needed!

We are collecting donations over the next 1.5 months to install urgently needed bars on classroom doors.

Will you help?
Donate hope, make a statement. Our support from wealth to the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere is appreciated; it provides motivation, breathing space, strength, and conveys courage and joy—and perspectives. A sign of solidarity.

It's worth it!

Thank you very much for every contribution, no matter how small.

And by the way:
Today, June 18th, is the international picnic and sushi day. In America, they celebrate Go Fishing Day and Treat Yourself Day. No-Panic Day is being proclaimed worldwide.

Isn't it a perfect fit for the project launch?!

Sushi and fish in Haiti? Wishful thinking. Picnics...luxury. Treat yourself...good idea, but what if you have no means and not even the bare necessities to survive?
Anti-Panic Day - that's EVERYDAY in Haiti!

With that in mind, let's treat our Esmonians to something, a little of our money - to help them cope with their stressful everyday lives more happily.

P.S. The 2024 Annual Report shows the current situation in Haiti. www.esmono.ch

Would you prefer something more official? Report from SRF 4 News on March 25, 2025 www.srf.ch