* Any views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author and not of Thomson Reuters Foundation.
Esther Williams works for Christian aid organisation Tearfund, which says its vision is to see 50 million people released from material and spiritual poverty through a global network of churches
A rat has moved into our campsite in Port-au-Prince, which tells me it's time to go home.
It has been quite a trip, from extreme driving on death-trap narrow roads wedged between the lush green country landscapes to being stuck in the traffic chaos in town.
To cheer myself up after listening to hours of stories of death and devastation, I cast my mind back to the cultural sensitivity briefing I received before leaving London for Haiti, to cover the January 12 earthquake.
"Long sleeves, trousers, and leave your hot-pants and mini-skirt at home," was the tongue-in-cheek advice given. The reality is I would have been less visible if I had worn them, rather than my standard NGO garb of linen trousers and cotton tops from various corners of the world, along with my hideous boots. For the record, I don't own any hot-pants or mini-skirts.
Haiti is a combination of scorching hot, and extremely wet. Wet is a problem for the 1.5 million displaced families. The rains are on their way and a disaster possibly worse than the earthquake is being talked about.
Camps are overcrowded, floodable areas are now packed with tents being used by families who are frightened to return home, and unstable soil from the earthquake means landslides will make for perilous roads.
Not to mention the many buildings yet to be demolished that balance precariously. I have never been to a war zone, but my photographer tells me that this is like one.
The rubble piled up in the streets is likely to block rain water and exacerbate the potential for severe floods.
I spoke to Guerda Lejande, 38, in Leogane who is camping on a football pitch that has been declared a floodable area by the Mayor.
I asked her if she planned to move, she points to the yellow flood marker on a nearby wall as she explains the dilemma she is in.
"We are very worried, but want to stay near to our home so we can protect what little assets we have left."
She lost her partner of 15 years in the earthquake and her eyes fill up as she speaks to us.
Another person living on the football pitch said. "We have little choice; we wanted to be as far away from trees and buildings as possible."
Aid agencies are working together to encourage the families to move out of the floodable area. Many of the people living there have safe houses they can go back to, but are understandably frightened about being inside.
Let's hope we are able to address people's fears, convince them, and move as many people as possible before the rainy season starts. I couldn't bear to hear anymore stories of lives needlessly lost.
