I have never taken a stroll through Central Park. I have never seen a performance on the Broadway stage. I have never taken in the magestic view of city lights from the top of the Empire State Building. Yet, again I find myself among throngs of bustling New Yorkers in JFK International Airport. It is hard to imagine that only a short time ago, I slept on these same cold tile floors. For some, spending the night at an airport is a right-of-passage. For others, it is a cheaper alternative to renting a hotel room, or merely a necessity due to late-night layovers. But for me, as I lay my head on my backpack and sandwiched my suitcase against the wall, sleeping in the airport was undoubtably the most appropriate way to launch headfirst into the most extraordinary adventure of my life.
Studying abroad will be an unforgettable experience, say many older and wiser Tufts seniors. But, I cannot ignore the few pangs of anxiety that go along with such great anticipation - including, being far from home, missing friends, and leaving the comforts of internet access and first-world toilets. I have every reason to harbor these worries - I embark in three days and have not even begun to pack! But even as I fret over packing lists, visas, vaccinations, and last-minute homework assignments, I know that this is exactly what I want to be doing. So, I created this blog to document the joys and the stresses, the comforts and the discomforts, the goods and the greats of my study abroad experience.
My world-learning journey of the semester was truly birthed the moment I awoke fom my light slumber on the floor of Terminal 4. With bleary eyes, I boarded a plane to the Dominican Republic with eight other Tufts students. We combined forces with a young organization called Health Horizons International which aims to create sustainable access to healthcare in the DR. As our plane touched down in Puerto Plata, on the DR's north shore, we practically skimmed the surface of the Caribbean Sea. The world seems to be more colorful here - there are more shades of green than I could count.
Studying abroad will be an unforgettable experience, say many older and wiser Tufts seniors. But, I cannot ignore the few pangs of anxiety that go along with such great anticipation - including, being far from home, missing friends, and leaving the comforts of internet access and first-world toilets. I have every reason to harbor these worries - I embark in three days and have not even begun to pack! But even as I fret over packing lists, visas, vaccinations, and last-minute homework assignments, I know that this is exactly what I want to be doing. So, I created this blog to document the joys and the stresses, the comforts and the discomforts, the goods and the greats of my study abroad experience.
My world-learning journey of the semester was truly birthed the moment I awoke fom my light slumber on the floor of Terminal 4. With bleary eyes, I boarded a plane to the Dominican Republic with eight other Tufts students. We combined forces with a young organization called Health Horizons International which aims to create sustainable access to healthcare in the DR. As our plane touched down in Puerto Plata, on the DR's north shore, we practically skimmed the surface of the Caribbean Sea. The world seems to be more colorful here - there are more shades of green than I could count.
With only a minor bump in the road at Customs, where I nearly lost a suitcase full of medicine to a corrupt airport official, our group was soon loaded onto the back of a truck on our way to Crossroads, our headquarters for the week. Crossroads is an incredibly beautiful place, overlooking a deep valley of sugarcane fields and tropical palms. Because of barriers to citizenship and work permits, the only available employment for Haitian migrants is to cut sugarcane. However, five or six years ago, the sugar industry shut down in the Puerto Plata region (the US began to rely on high fructose corn syrup instead of sugar imported from the DR). This event left many people without any source of income and no political power to change their situation. It was especially striking to me to see what can happen when their is no safety net in place and no avenue for self-advocacy. This realization made me thankful for the work I am able to do at LIFT, where in comparison, it seems easier to help a struggling family make ends meet because of the existing network of services in the US. As I soon learned, in the bateyes, it is a whole different story. 
The day we began our series of clinic work, the rainy season descended on us. Each day, we trudged through the mud (our boots were both a fashion statement and a necessity) to a different village. We set up our clinics in either school houses or churches and saw close to 100 patients every day.
The day we began our series of clinic work, the rainy season descended on us. Each day, we trudged through the mud (our boots were both a fashion statement and a necessity) to a different village. We set up our clinics in either school houses or churches and saw close to 100 patients every day.
I rotated between the pharmacy and triage stations. In pharmacy, I took the role of translator where I communicated prescription instructions to every patient. I taught mothers how to give antibiotics to newborns and observed the implementation of the new prescription label project we compiled at Tufts. The labels will require more adjustments, but overall, they seemed to be well-understood by the patients. The labels contain pictograms designed to help illiterate populations read the dosage instructions for their medicine. It also includes the image of a human body where we highlighted the area that a particular medicine treats. Not only will this improve adherence to prescriptions, but also I hope it will help people take a more active role in their health by understanding why they take a certain pill. The next step is to make sure there is adequate information on how to prevent these health concerns once they have been identified.
While it was fascinating to see the pathology of the communities we served and to provide patients with tangible assistance for their medical concerns, I felt that it was equally important to be involved in the beginning of the process - triage. In triage, I sat down with every patient, took down their vitals, and engaged in conversation about their personal health issues. At times, the language barrier was further complicated when the patient spoke only Creole (as was the case for many people in the bateyes). Community Health workers trained by HHI, as well as Creole translators, were incredibly valuable during these challenging moments.
When clinic work was not being done, I played with the children, many of whom adored being photographed (and struck some pretty sassy poses!). However, a lot of the time, I felt hesitant to bring out my camera in the villages. I was sensitive to the fact that I am a guest in their community and they should never be made to feel like a "spectacle." But unlike the community where I lived in El Salvador, the villages we visited in the DR frequently receive international aid and often host groups such as ours throughout the year. The Community Health major within me struggles with the delicate balance between the severe need for the charity being received and the growing culture of dependence in these areas. I am happy to see that HHI is being crafted to address these issues. Laura and Angi are the hub of HHI's work in the DR - they are truly incredible, brave women (and you might not be surprised to know they are also recent Tufts grads!).
Every night we return to Crossroads and are typically passed out in our beds by 7:30pm. In the dormitory, we were plagued by bugs - one night, there was a beetle in my bed, a salamander in my shower, and the most gigantic grasshopper I had ever seen. But, despite all of these insect troubles, I managed to scrape by with only about 29 bugbites. Success.
Overall, I cannot wait to return to the DR (and I barely even left!) and now that I am familiar with the communities there, I know that my next visit will only build upon the great work that has been started.
Back at JFK, I am waiting for my flight home to San Diego. It will be a short, transitional visit home. Most of my time will be spent frantically packing for my program abroad before I ship off to my next destination. The months ahead are a giant unknown and I have no idea what is in store. Stay tuned for updates from Washington DC, South Africa, Vietnam, and Brazil!
