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Published: February 6th 2010
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Dr. SueLin Hilbert
Onboard SV Ironie en route to the Maskelyne Islands. A story by Dr. SueLin Hilbert
I am not what you would call a “natural born leader.” I think I ran for some kind of class office in high school once. I don’t have that striking charisma that some people do where they can walk into a group of people and just own the room. I’m more of a “keep your head down” and work hard team member, happy to step up when needed, but equally happy to step down when not. Within the last year, however, I have somehow managed to find myself in two major leadership positions: Chief Resident of Emergency Medicine at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri, and Medical Director for Project MARC.
This is my fourth season in Vanuatu with Project MARC and I have come to learn that leadership takes many forms here. There are the more global offices such as “president,” “minister of parliament” and “director general” that are familiar to most members of the industrialized world. There are also local leaders within a community who focus on specific issues whether it’s religion, women’s groups, education, or cooperative businesses. What I find most intriguing, however, is role of the chief. In Vanuatu,
Not a Pedicure
Doing Work in the Sengalai Clinic. chiefs come in many flavors. There are Nassera Chiefs who are the heads of households, Kastom Chiefs who are responsible for maintaining local culture and “kastom,” Elected Chiefs who function as the village “mayors” of sorts, and Councils of Chiefs comprised of the Elected Chiefs within a given region. In the rural areas in particular, a vibrant and active community is a reflection of dedicated and involved chiefs.
This October, we stopped in a moderate sized village where we held a couple of clinic days in the local aid post that had been abandoned for the last several months. It had most of the trappings of a typical rural village in Vanuatu: thatch-roof huts with dirt floors, the occasional concrete slab, colorful hens and roosters pecking about the grounds, and small winding footpaths lined with deliberately spaced local flowering plants. There was also, however, this kind of “disorganized” feel to the place which is very uncharacteristic for rural Vanuatu--even in the poorest communities. Scattered throughout the village were small bits of wrappers, empty plastic bottles, and other remnants of where the “quick and easy,” disposable culture of mass produced goods had penetrated into village life. Buildings were in various
Office lunch meeting
Squeezing lunch in between patients can be tough on some days. states of unfinished construction and/or disrepair. The abandoned aid post had a rusty lock just above a comically large hole in the door that most full-grown Nivans could fit through. Many of the villagers, particularly children, had poor personal hygiene as evidenced by the fact that we ran out of ringworm cream and scabies lotion in one day. In fact, two young boys left the aid post nearly looking like mummies after Mich and I had cleaned and dressed their scabies sores that had developed superimposed infections on their arms, legs, hands, and feet. Access to clean water was limited to a couple of small taps several hundred meters outside of town that connected to local springs, and a few small wells that appeared rather murky and stagnant. Teenage pregnancy and maternal health were also major health issues we encountered.
After the second clinic day, as we motored back to Alvei in the tinny, several of us were discussing the state of things in the village. Something just wasn’t quite right. We had all seen villages with scabies and ringworm. Limited access to fresh water wasn’t anything new. The abandoned aid post was unfortunately a relatively common site as
Team Ironie
Capt. Steve, Dr. Hilbert, and Frank the Optimizer made up Project MARC's Team Ironie. well. Teenage pregnancy was a rather unusual rural issue, but it alone did not account for this feeling we had all expressed that something was missing. After some discussion, we realized that it wasn’t some “thing” that was missing, but rather someone. There was no chief! According to some of the villagers, they had been without an Elected Chief for some time. Essentially, there was no unifying force to bring the community together, to repair the water pipes, to encourage clean grounds and better health practices. Sure the village was surviving, people were fed and clothed--some even had cell phones--but it wasn’t thriving. While everyone was certainly friendly and inviting, there was little sense of the community pride I have come to know as standard practice in Vanuatu regardless of wealth or stature.
Throughout my involvement in Project MARC, I have met countless chiefs and community leaders. Some have been very direct and assertive, while others have been more casual and collaborative. Regardless of their individual leadership styles, however, I have always admired the strong and vibrant communities they have helped create. As I think about my own “chief” roles (both literally and figuratively,) I am inspired by these
Doing the work
Topical infection and festering wounds are the most common ailments treated during clinic days leaders to be a supportive and nurturing force in the various “villages” of my life. For me, Project MARC serves as an opportunity not only for me to support the communities I admire so much, but also for others to experience for themselves what a group of people with limited resources and limitless dedication can accomplish.
Dr. SueLin Hilbert
October 2009
USA
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Frank
non-member comment
Beautiful
Project MARC in a nut-shell. A beautiful read. Well done SueLin. Don't ever stop.