OK, I´m back at it a week or so later, after another 4 days of clinics in the mountains and coast. Before going any further I have to finish the story of Rene'l, the unfortunate fellow that fell from the avacado tree. I went to the hospital in Barahona where he was sent last week and was able to locate the nurse who took care of him after he arrived from Pedernales. He remained conscious until the end, but died at about 5 pm the next day, with her at the bedside. She felt terribly sorry for him and thought maybe they could have saved him if someone had come with him and helped )$$$$$) transfer him to Santo Domingo. His fever remained 105 and he had multiple internal injuries. Eeek, I felt a little guilty hearing that. Instead of saving his life, I was romping around with a clown. But the obvious question is how would he have survived afterwards, paralyzed from the chest down? As of today, no family has appeared in Ansapit to ask his whereabouts. His body is still in the morgue in Barahona.
Rene'l's nurse Ingrid in Barahona; too bad I can´t photoshop me out
After leaving Grand Gosier last week we walked 8 km up to a place called Majofre to do a little clinic in a place where there is no health care at all for many miles. Chris did more shows for waiting patients and I saw many people, lots of elderly who complained they couldn´t see. My classic question is ¨Can you thread a needle¿¨ because the majority of them can not read. I would lend them my glasses and magically they could see!!! I have to bring a team of optometrists up here or at least a boatload of reading glasses. I can´t imagine how lost in the world I would be without my $18 pair. I saw about 100 patients last week, and thanks to your dollars, people were provided with antibiotics, hypertension, pain meds, etc.
Chris ready to boogie in Majofre
This week I returned with Dr Demosthenes (Dr.Demo) from the clinic in Ansapit and the rest of the team, including Susan Koppenhaver, our practice manager from Hudson River Healthcare in Amenia. I also brought along Patrick Howell, the director of an NGO in Barahona who was curious about Haiti and what I was doing. We rambled for hours over the hills on motorcycles to return to Majofre, where we did another few days of clinics, this time seeing twice as many pts since we were 2 practitioners.
Susan, Patrick and driver ready to hit the hills
With the help of local leaders, we have begun to hatch a plan to finish a clinic in Majofre that a Haitian American who grew up in the community has started. He (Mr. Fritz) came back to his home town after retiring and, responding to a need for healthcare in the region, he began to build a clinic but ran out of money before it could be finished. We stayed in his compound where he has the only electricity in town (2 hours), a bar, little general store and a bread bakery using a huge wood powered oven. Dozens of children come over at night and watche TV, sitting on the ground of his dooryard. We did a few days of clinics while Jean Paulin and Patrick interviewed the residents, met the local leaders and began to outline steps for finishing the clinic construction, brainstorming on how to get the Haitian Ministry of Health and an NGO to partner. It is an ambitious plan, but if the Gods are on our side.......
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| View from the road to Majofre |
Partially finished clinic
Dr. Demo with a cutie
Waiting room
getting stoked for some hot bread
Haitians continue to be, at least in this part of the country, the most gentle, surprising, kind hearted people I have ever encountered. It sounds like ridiculous hyperbole, but I have hundreds of simple examples = we were taking off from Grand Gosier in a vessel last night resembling a hollowed out 40 foot pirate ship without mast and sails. This boat had broken loose in Ansapit during hurricaine Sandy and floated 40 miles down the coast to Grand Gosier, getting severely beat up in the process. Chris and I saw it being repaired on the beach last week, they were jamming felt in the spaces between the planks that made up the side of the boat and painting the hull with tar bubbling over a little fire in the sand. I was surprised yesterday when doing one more clinic on a cliff I heard a roar of cheering down on the beach. They had finally launched
Le Souvenir after 2 weeks of repairs! We embarked last night to return to Ansapit on its maiden voyage. About 10 minutes into the trip the 40 hp engine sputtered and died. For 30 minutes the captain kept yanking the cord, sweating, groaning, huff'puffing, but not a swear word was uttered! This grease stained sailor still kept calling his deck mates
mache, ´¨ my dear¨¨ and saying his please and thanks yous even after repeated coughs, chokes, gurgles. When we finally got going, much to my disbelief, under the stars and above the phosphorescence in the waves, all hands on deck started singing thanks to Agoueh, the god of the sea. The chanting went on for two hours, along with the captain blowing a conch shell every time we saw some candle or lamplight on the shore.
Le Souvenir is launched
I must mention that at the same time Haitians can be extremely annoying, ruthlessly pushing you aside on the narrow footbridge with their motorbikes loaded with cargo 6 feet wide, standing in the doorway of the consulting room listening to everything privately said between doctor and pt, despite repeated chiding. You can not eat anything in front of anyone without sharing it, or open your wallet in public without pleading eyes watching you. It as if we are all a teaming mass of people struggling through life´s tortures and pleasures all together, no such thing as privacy, no being alone.
A few of my dream Haitian houses
secluded bungalow
for immediate occupancy
fixer upper
Fellow travelers on the road to Majofre
A 9 inch tarantula I found one night in my bedroom watching me undress!
