This is my first attempt to write a blog and for you who may be interested, I am writing from Pedernales, the most southwestern town in the DR, 2 miles from the Haitian town Anse a Pitres where I am working at a community health center. I arrived about 5 days ago to this dusty border town that is actually quite friendly and mellow even though I got sucked into the whirlwind of their annual ¨Patronales¨which was also combined with a celebration of Altagracia, the blessed virgin ofthe Domincan Republic. However I saw NINGUN cross or image of the virgin here, just a lot of super fria Presidente beer, merenge, slasa and bachata blasting from Marshall stacks and lots of ladies in skin tight spandex! I regret to say I couldn´t stay awake beyond 11 pm to see some of the great live acts they brought to this little town, artists who I have admired for years, but you have to stay up for hours and tolerate a lot of sensory torture before you are awarded with the ultimate prize. So far I whimped.
In order toget tothe clinic you either jump on a motorcycle and tear down the 2 mile road at 75 mph for about 75 cents, or you walk to the border where there are some officious, and sometimes inebriated dominican border officials who may or may not let you in. The first day I came with a duffle full of meds and only a copy of my passport but the official gave me a hard time, despite my having a letter from the organization I am volunteering for. All the other times I have crossed into Haiti I have never had to show anything, I guess my gringa face has been enough proof of identity up til now. Anyway, this guy was offensive and even though, Alexandre, the Haitian doctor I work with, was exceedingly polite to him, I complained that he was going to make me go back to ¨´ël maldito hotel,´ to get my passport and at that point he gave me a look that Irealized was not too pretty. Kind of like, ´¨Icould make your day really suck, lady.¨¨ So I backed off and said I would go get my documents and moreover, I would love to do an EKG for him and any of his companeros´. So now we are good buddies and I am treating several of the border police for high blood pressure, bronchitis, etc. I slide through the gate like a phantom. To get to the Haitian side there is a skinny little bridge over a amazingly clean river where a handful of women are washing clothes, someone else is washing their truck, some kid bathing naked. Across the bridge, although only 3 feet wide are motorcycles, wheelbarrels full of bags of rice or flour, etc, you have to watch your limbs so you don´t loose anything.
The clinic is only 100 yards from the border, in a compound which is shared by the UN peacekeepers, this particular team is from Peru. The clinic has been there for a long time but was neglected until Batey Relief Alliance, tagged with the unfortunate acronym BRA, signed a contractwith the Haitian Ministry of Health to begin acollaboration about one year ago. There are two doctors, two nurses, a pharmacist person, an outreach worker who also vaccinates children in the town and its outlying areas, and probably several other workers that I haven´t met. I am the only foreigner and I think the first one to have volunteered inthe clinic. The clinic is a square with a nice open courtyard in the center. I will try to send pictures but this computer is not cooperating at this moment. There is a little ER, a pharmacy, 3consultation rooms, a lab, a room for ´¨acouchement¨or labor and delivery, medical records, etx. I like it alot more than my office in Amenia, even though by mid day you are sweating like a racehorse and the fan in my consultation room squeaks and groans and acts like its going to come off its mount and decapitate me! Outside and with a separate improvised entrance are the temporary cholera quarters, as of yesterday there were about 12 people admitted, all with Lactated Ringers IVs and lying on camp type beds with a hole inthe middle for their buttocks, with a bucket underneath them so they can relieve themselves ad lib. Conditions are very clean and organized, other clinic employees and family take complete care of those who are admitted, andpeople are allowed to leave if they have no diarrhea in 6 hours. No deaths since I have been here.
I am working with the most adorable, intelligent and fun doctor, Alezandre Widner, who is from
Anse a Pitres but was educated in Cuba. He speaks good english and likes to sharpen up his skills with me. We speak a mish mash of english, spanish , french and kreyol when we are trying to get a difficult point across. My kreyol is coming along, in spits and spurts, thanks to some knowledge of french and all the studying over the past 6 months. I am also working with a translator who likes to call himself Peter, who is helping me say things correctly to my pts in kreyol, the problem is he doesn´t really speak much english and I sometimes catch him improvising what I am trying to say to someone. Again the melange of english, kreyol, french and spanish. But we are both learning and enjoying it with plenty of laughs. I pay him by buying him lunch, he´s pretty damn skinny......and soon I will begin to give him a few $$ a day.
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