Vassar Haiti Project

After a relaxing couple of days by the beach, and some successful handcraft and iron sculpture shopping in Jacmel, we finally arrived safely back in New York. Everyone is exhausted, but already missing Haiti. It was difficult to say goodbye, especially to Pere Wildaine who stayed with us the entire trip.

There are not enough words to express how grateful we are for his presence, leadership, and especially his words of wisdom for every situation. During the hikes in Chermaitre, all of the trippers would try to encourage one another by saying they were “djanm” or “strong” in Haitian Creole, but it was Pere Wildaine who reminded us that we also have to be “djanm” in our minds.

The ever-talented Pere Wildaine

As we settle back into our daily routines, Pere Wildaine’s advice is at the forefront of our thoughts. We all have to be “djanm” in order to face the challenges ahead of us in our personal lives and in Chermaitre, and we thank Pere Wildaine for giving us the courage to do so. His partnership has been a gift and a privilege.

Below are some further reflections on the trip to Chermaitre. The first is by senior, Sarah Oliver, and her experience at the clinic in Fiervil. The second is by freshman, Siennah Yang who shares her knowledge of the music sung at a church service (led by Pere Wildaine) in Molas. Both are “djanm” individuals to the fullest!

– Ilse Heine ’15

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An except from my journal on the day I spent at the clinic (March 20, 2015). In short, it was a beautiful and inspiring day and I really want to be a doctor. ~ Sarah Oliver ’15

Wow! I have so much energy today, even after working in the clinic all day. It has been my favorite part of the trip by far. I sat with Dr. Gueslin for over 6 hours, writing his prescriptions in neat handwriting for the pharmacy to clearly understand. We saw over 65 patients. It was incredible. Dr. Gueslin was incredible. Even though there were so many people, he had the patience to talk to and examine each one, making sure to hear their concerns and make the right diagnosis. Many of the people had tinea capitis (a fungal infection in the scalp), worms, and/or scabies. We gave every patient multivitamins because many do not have proper nutrition. Many also received a prescription for Tylenol because these families don’t have the access and knowledge of OTC medications, so need a prescription for these “basic” things. A couple of the women were pregnant and Dr. Gueslin was able to find the baby’s heartbeat and let Clairiola and I listen to it. Ah! I just want to be a doctor right away!

I found it really interesting that Dr. Gueslin would only prescribe 2 weeks (at most!) of medication. This way, he could monitor how well the patient took their meds; it also forced them to come back for a follow-up. He would also write prescriptions for exams/lab work that either needed to be done at a later date or done by a specialist at the nearest hospital (1.5 hour walk away). I think that’s an excellent way to track patients and help them understand their care. I realized that the clinic is spatially organized in such a way that the patients wait outside the examining room. Many times the patients get antsy or impatient (some have been waiting for hours) and come into the examining room, demanding to be seen. Dr. Gueslin would first tell them to wait outside, then, if they persisted, he would move them to the front of the pile. At first, I thought that was unfair, but now that I think about it, it is actually his way of doing effective crowd-control. He knows that some people need to be seen urgently so that they continue to come to the clinic and take charge of their health. Dr. Gueslin also did not wear gloves most of the time. From my US-medical perspective, this is crazy! However, when I asked him why, he said it was for humility. In some way, that makes extraordinary sense. He did use gloves or hand sanitizer when the patient was infectious, but otherwise that barrier was removed.

The clinic day today felt very full-circle for me. I ate dinner in the very spot that I thought about becoming a doctor, exactly 3 years ago. I’ve seen this place transform from a temporary clinic with just the foundations of the building I’m currently sleeping in, to a lonely building with limited medications and potential nurse and doctor, to finally the fully-operating medical dispensary with a full-time nurse, a doctor 4 days per month, a stocked pharmacy, and patients who are starting to understand what is means to have access to healthcare. At our debrief tonight, I cried because I became so emotional about this place. I can’t wait for the freshmen to be seniors and for this clinic to have transformed into something greater. We are at a stage with so much potential and it excites me to think about the future. I want to come back as a medical student, with a completely different perspective and see where this clinic, this entity that has so shaped me as a person, is in its path to being the best source of primary care for the people of this region. This place is possibility, and that possibility is palpable tonight.

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Siennah Yang ’18

As my harmony professor quoted in class, “music has powers to unite men’s souls.” As a Christian and a musician, I always pondered the power of music to express feelings and to worship. The Molas service, though I don’t understand a word, truly empowered me to worship collectively with the Haitians. The service started off with a musical procession along the hilly way leading to the church. Throughout the service, the two choirs, one in the congregation and one in the upper nave alternatively sang and led the crowd. The musical worships were accompanied by the blind musician we saw in Chermaitre on keyboard organ, and a bass player. Everyone sang with a lot of passion and intensity– music filled the entire room with people dancing, praying, holding hands with one another. I was surprised to hear familiar hymns like the Doxology and the Lord’s Prayer sang in Creole. Yet, the accompanied walking bass and the somewhat offbeat, 5/8 feel chordal organ accompaniment made every song a blend of the Western hymnal tradition and the Haitian percussive and dance-like musical roots. Even after the service, I heard conga 5/8 drumming and konpa, the Haitian dance music, ringing in the mountains as we hiked down to Chermaitre. Perhaps with Haiti’s ever-changing socioeconomic and political scenes, music serves to connect the religious importance of Haitians abroad and in the country, Haitians in the countryside and in the city and Haiti’s past and present.