The UN base at Leogane is full of vehicles, equipment, food, water and men. They are stationed to the west of Port-au-Prince at the end of a road leading through the small settlement where we are told some 5,000 people have been left homeless.
But instead of being out in the village, the UN representatives at this base are clustered around the front gate, laughing as they buy shampoo from a local salesman.
And while they do this, just a two-minute walk down the road in the village itself, the injured and the homeless are waiting.
One man says the water is no longer safe to drink. People are thirsty. Some plead for help, to come and see the injured.
They bring one man out, his leg dragging behind him in the dirt.
A church and a school are damaged. The village pharmacy is flattened. Any medicine that might help here is trapped inside the rubble.
Under a sheet sits Marianne Deboulie. She has a bandage tied around each of her swollen legs. Both, she says, are broken. The concrete fell on top of her and pinned her down.
Up above, a lone military helicopter hovers for a moment. From inside, someone looks down at us, and then the aircraft flies away.
Time will tell the truth, one way or another, about Haiti's earthquake.