Translation of medicine
By Claude Bruny
I was born and raised in Haiti but I’ve never experienced doing a clinic before. Upon arrival I felt like we were anticipated. We were greeted with what seemed like a thousand smiles.
I was asked to help translate in the pediatrics side of the clinic. It seemed like a simple enough mission, since I was born speaking the language. What I didn’t realize was how few we native speakers were. The most interesting part was when I had to be in two to three places at once while maintaining perpetual hope in the patient’s eyes. I was asked to survey the patients on their household conditions. It came to my ignorant surprise how many people did not have a toilet to use nor did they know their age or the age of their offspring.
So many kids suffered from stomachaches, chest colds, anemia, and abdominal pains. Once I translated to the parents that we would prescribe their child medicine and they would be given the medication, it looked like we had just told them that poverty was a thing of the past. I replayed the moment over and over in my head and the feeling, of doing something that matters so much, never dwindled. We then mounted our caravan made of 7 SUV’s and with passing waves and smiles from the locals, we “rocked” our way back down the impossible mountain.