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Published: January 8th 2011
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We’ve all been there – clumsily standing in an elevator, or (more painfully), sitting next to that awkwardly close neighbor engaging in the coerced “small talk” on a long flight – an ungrateful exploration in the art of time wasting. It IS an art, and if 30 mere, yet abundantly-lived years of existence have taught me anything, it’s that I am
not an artist! I truly admire those who can hold a seemingly natural conversation about the most mundane of topics and somehow appear genuine while doing so. I envy them.
Let’s get back to that underwhelming plane conversation. As the lackluster banter unfolds, covering all the bases of pure dialectical boredom, the inevitable query arises: “So… What do you do?” Now, depending on the threshold of appropriateness, or maybe just the length of the trip, answers can range from “I’m an Albanian Trapeze Artist, to “I’m a Marine Biologist, writing a dissertation on the effects of coconut-scented sunscreen on Micronesian coral” … and everything in between. For me, to describe my profession is, in itself, a very challenging exercise. What usually transpires, when faced with such inquiry is a lengthy and hyperbolic depiction (bordering on hubris) of how great
my job is... Here’s the thing: IT IS! Which begs the question – how does one genuinely describe his or her enthusiasm while discussing work, without sounding like an embarrassingly overpaid executive or a careless vagabond, travelling the world and finding an excuse to justify it? It seems that, today, our professional vocation either falls under the category of “financial means” or a symbol of “status” to create and maintain an acceptable image in society... I digress.
I knew, since starting with Merlin almost two years ago, that this was not only a substantial career shift, but that I was embarking on a journey. I’ve given up on justifying why this has been the best decision ever. What I have not, however, given up on is my desire to explain (as best I can), the work of Merlin – not so much focusing on
what that work is, but
how it's done. Sure, it’s easy to see that, like so many organizations in this sector, the work and its overall mission are noble. But, again, the idea is not what but how. Over the past couple of years, I've visited several of Merlin’s field programs, from South Sudan to
Northern Kenya, to more recently, Haiti. I love the spectrum - each context so rich in diversity, with an incredibly heterogeneous staff and a wide breadth of activities from nutrition programs to reproductive health education, all carefully and sensibly adapted to each culture. These field visits put everything in perspective. Unfortunately, the dangers (political instability, civil unrest and the other security-related challenges) make these visits difficult. Therefore, since we obviously can’t always take people to the field, I’ve been trying to work my way backwards by
taking the field to the people in order to illustrate this perspective.
The mere concept of mobile clinics, as it was described to me, is extraordinary. After a careful assessment, Merlin focuses on certain medically-underserved communities, usually in far and/or remote outlying areas, to provide primary health care. This warrants a closer look for a better understanding and a clearer appreciation… And after almost a year since the Earthquake wrought havoc across Haiti, I was given the opportunity to visit such mobile clinics.
Petit Goave, a small coastal town situated in Haiti’s “Western” department is about 70 km South of Port-au-Prince. Visibly affected by the Earthquake, even more significantly by the January
20th 5.9 aftershock, the epicenter of which was almost exactly under Petit-Goave (and which I most definitely felt while in Port au Prince at the time), the area was most definitely in need of help. So in mid-March, Merlin started setting up two teams of health workers (doctors, nurses and midwives) to regularly visit and provide essential health care to seven rural sites in the areas and two Internally Displaced People (“IDP”) camps, where families continue to live in makeshift shelters, serving a population of about 43,000 people, seeing between 100-150 patients a day.
But, as I’ve learned, numbers don’t tell all… I was excited to see these mobile clinics in action. So, after a windy and bumpy one hour ride through the outlying mountains outside of Petit Goave, we finally reached Merlin’s mobile clinic, tucked inside beautiful, lush hills in an area known as “Tisavane.” The sheer remoteness of this site leads to an immediate sense of understanding the daily challenges that these communities face on a daily basis – to receive proper attention, be it medical or otherwise. In front of the clinic was one of Merlin’s outfitted 4WD ambulance, parked prominently and right next to it,
a proud driver – ready. A fascinating conversation with Charles, a 55 years old Health promoter ensued. This hard working, kind man has been with Merlin since mid-August. He, and a team of 42 other equally dedicated health promoters spend their long days going door to door or holding community meetings in schools and churches, educating families, friends and everyone around on various important aspects of health treatment and prevention, ranging from maternal/child health, STDs, hygiene and sanitation, proper nutrition and cholera. Until now, Charles and his colleagues have visited thousands of households, conducting 20-30 minute health education sessions - a harbinger of “community service.”
Shortly after, I spoke with Reglita a cheerful 29 year old Midwife who took a small break in between examining two pregnant women who had made the trek to receive prenatal consultations. “I get to contribute to the promotion and access of health care for so many in such a rural setting,” is how she describes her motivation for coming to work here. And contribute she most certainly does! Reglita, like her colleagues, was well aware of the conditions in this area before starting with Merlin. “People told me about how far and removed
these sites were before I started, but I was determined to reach the people who usually don’t have access to health care… For me, it’s extraordinary to be able to affect the community like this,” she continues… “We are not only seeing an increase in the quality of services we are able to provide, but also in the quantity of patients we are able to see.” One of such patients is Garola Gean, a 25 year old woman who had walked uphill 3 hours with her 7 day old baby girl to reach our mobile clinic to see Reglita in order to receive the proper postnatal care she needed. (Now, I hope you’re starting to get the point here…)
As I looked around in admiration, catching discrete glances of the perfectly-executed triage practices or the methodically-run makeshift pharmacy, it all came together…
THIS is why. This is why I love my job. Though I will continue to struggle to find the adequate words to describe this enthusiasm, its implications are lucid. I get it. 87,710 consultations since the establishment of our mobile clinics, the unyielding commitment of over 300 national health workers and the ability to continue to do
more and to reach more, all help to contribute to this undeniable truth: I love my job… I think I’m ready for that next high altitude conversation now!
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