'm in the room with twenty other people. A bed is occupied by a sick woman. A drip attached to his arm ... it's rusty. The other three beds ci siamo seduti tutti noi, che attendiamo la visita dal dottore. Sì, perché non ci sono sedie a sufficienza per tutti. Due persone si scambiano un piccolo pacchetto plastificato, poi cominciano a ridere: quell’uomo incita la “mademoiselle" a comprare la cura magica; si tratta di una medicina tradizionale (un misto di erbe e pasta fatta in casa). Per 2.000$ haitiani potrebbe essere la soluzione più facile per risolvere o alleviare le sofferenze fisiche e psichiche di gran lunga più complesse. Nella stanza non c’è la corrente: le luci sono spente e l’aria comincia ad essere pesante ed umida. Il dottore arriva nella sala e propone alla signora stesa sul letto di andare a Port de Paix e, se avesse la possibility, in Port au Prince, to "solve" the disease that grips. Those present in the room listening to the response of the doctor. Here everyone knows everything, there is no privacy: the joys and hardships are shared.
Whenever it is repeating the same problem: small clinics scattered in the mountains of Mare Rouge is almost impossible to find a cure and doctors are able to cope with the problems and diseases of its inhabitants: the medicine and specialists do not come up here! Indeed, to reach Mare Rouge need four hours of off-road from Port de Paix, nine hours of off-road from the capital. It is clay and red one that goes daily steps of the multitude of people who travel to reach water sources and sell their products to market. It is slippery ground, which interposed between bananas and mangoes. It is a land that offers support, but at the same time requires an isolation that marks the border between life and death. People who live in the mountains is a Class B, between the poverty and misery afflicting the entire country. He died of diabetes because insulin is not! We die alone, as well as families abandon their loved one: is the law of survival of the fittest, everyone must think of himself. Life, like the earth, if it produces more fruit, no need to nothing.
now in the small waiting room, dispensary, which differ only in the eyes, restless, looking for a solution within the four walls. But the night has already fallen like a blanket on the whole: it covers the sufferings and hopes tomorrow is a new day and you Bondy VLE , he will still be present in which trust, He will indicate new ways ... if we still alive.
Elisa Brivio
Photos of Cardinal Stefan
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