Report from the Caribbean – Day 6

Volunteer photographers Stephen Katz and Chris Tyree continue their work in the Dominican Republic.
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“Rafino, 49, didn’t travel much beyond a two or three block radius in the Vietnam Barrio of Santo Domingo – named that because it’s like a war-zone – after he lost his leg 17 years ago in a motorbike accident. Local doctors tried to use a traditional method to save the leg, which later became gangrenous and was ultimately removed. A couple of years later he lost his wife too. She walked out on him, leaving him to care for their two boys. One is mute.

When I first met Rafino just over two years ago, he was seated on a paint can in front of his mother’s green shack, where he and the boys eventually moved. His entire world, and that of his children, existed in one room. No bathroom. No kitchen. Just two tattered, stained mattresses with small piles of clothing and other odds-and-ends cluttering a space no more than 10 feet by 8 feet. It was his prison and his palace.

I made several photographs of Rafino perched on the rusted can that afternoon, before I even noticed he was missing his left leg. As I walked closer I smiled. He didn’t return the smile, but nodded his head ever so slightly. Though at the time he was 47-years-old, deep lines – a dried riverbed – across his face made him look 58.

He struggled to stand as I extended my hand, steadying himself and shaking at the same time. Although he was on a concrete step he was still several inches shorter than me. I asked Ramon to inquire whether or not he had a prosthetic. We were both shocked when he pulled out an artificial leg he had made himself with wood, the type of rubber used as a moisture barrier on roofs and a piece cannibalized from a partial prosthetic leg a friend had found. He demonstrated the contraption for us. Still his gate was labored, with a severe, awkward limp. Ramon took down his information, promising to arrange for him to be fit for an artificial leg. I’m sure Rafino wondered if this was just another hollow promise.

Yesterday, Ramon, Chris and I spent the day following around a small group of PFP’s Resource Mothers. The program is designed to educate 15 to 19-years-olds, in the first sixteen months of their pregnancy, to adopt lifestyles that ensure a successful birth and healthy baby. The Resource Mothers themselves are members of the community and have children of their own.

As we approached Arelis’s home – one of PFP’s nine Resource Mothers – Ramon called out to me “you remember the man with the leg he made for himself?” I nodded. “He lives just here,” pointing to the green shack I quickly recalled. As we parked just a few yards away, Rafino walked out. Walked out. No limp. No faltering. As his gaze adjusted to the bright Dominican sun and fell on Ramon he immediately threw up his hands, smiling like a child would smile at a brightly colored balloon. Before long the man of so few words just two years ago couldn’t wait to share with Chris and I how the mobility of the new leg has changed his life. Today, instead of scratching together a living and begging for money, Rafino collects and recycles bottles. He also earns money by shining shoes. Fancy shoes. The kind worn by people who don’t live in the barrio. Both tasks made possible by something most of us take for granted – walking. Walking free.”

Report from the Caribbean – Day 5

The continuing experiences of volunteer photographers Stephen M. Katz and Chris Tyree, as they travel in the Dominican Republic and Haiti for PFP.
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“Would anyone fall in love with her? Could anybody find her attractive? Should she even dare to dream of marrying one day? All questions familiar to many young women, especially those disfigured the way Ireline was.

At the age of twelve the lively Dominican held her brother’s waist tightly as the two zigzagged through traffic. It’s a common site. And the type of accident they were involved in is all too common as well. With roadways on which two lanes swell into four and driving is more sport than transportation, cars and motorbikes are foes. The emergency room at the public hospital in Santo Domingo sees nearly as many amputations as appendicitis. The fingers on Ireline’s brother’s right hand were severed and Ireline was flung into traffic. When she awoke in the hospital, her left leg was gone.

The barrios of the Dominican Republic are difficult to manage with two legs. Steep concrete stairways – tentacles stretching from the busy roadways above – creep down hills often slick with oily water and sewage, to shacks the poor call home. Pathways pitted with ruts and strewn with rocks wind through a dizzying maze. As a child going to school, and later an adult searching for work, Ireline navigated the obstacle course on a pair of rusting crutches.

But the day Ireline sturdied herself on those crutches and walked into the Asociacion Dominicana de Rehabilitacion (ADR) – the orthopedics and prosthetics center where PFP runs its Walking Free program – not one, but two dreams came true. She has been fitted for a prosthetic leg and eagerly waits for the day she can once again walk on two legs or dance the Pachete and not rely on bracing herself with her arms and hands. And with her arms free, she can walk proudly while holding the hand of her husband Monely. The athletic man, himself a double amputee, stole her heart when he worked in the back room of ADR making orthopedic shoes for children.
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Report from the Caribbean – Day 4

Another update from our volunteer photographers Stephen M. Katz and Chris Tyree, in the Dominican Republic.
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“Today’s blog will be a bit shorter than the previous three. I apologize for that, but I think you’ll understand. It’s just past 1 a.m. and Chris and I started this day – Tuesday, February 25 – at 6:30 a.m. I just finished uploading 16 photographs for the blog, so from my calculations I have already sent 16,000 words.

As Chris and I shared a quick dinner this evening at the Pizza House along the walking road that runs through the Old City of Santo Domingo, we had a chance to reflect on the day. Aside from the fact that Dominicans put cherries on their Hawaiian pizza, what struck me most was how Charles Horton’s often used motto about teaching a man to fish rather than giving him a fish proved to be so true today. I mentioned in yesterday’s blog that I accompanied PFP’s Walking Free mission to the Dominican Republic in November of 2005. I remember well a young man named Victor Diaz who absorbed with excitement the training he was receiving by the PFP volunteers. He eagerly followed each of their suggestions and hung on their every word. So when we arrived at the Asociacion Dominicana de Rehabilitacion – the orthopedics and prosthetics center where PFP holds the training – I was thrilled to see that the man enthusiastically training the new technicians was no other than Victor himself.

Five men huddled around Victor as he demonstrated how to ensure that the casts made from patient’s limbs would produce the most secure and comfortable fit. A little filing here, a bit of shaping there. Soon the blob of clay-like material looked identical to the limb from which the cast was made. His spark clearly hasn’t faded and the trainees were as engaged with him as he was with the PFP volunteers two years ago. One might imagine that years from now one of these young men may be training future technicians and the cycle of teaching and learning and healing that Dr. Horton dreamed of so passionately will live on.”

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Report from the Caribbean – Day 3

Another report from PFP volunteer photographer Stephen M. Katz, who is in the Dominican Republic with fellow photographer Chris Tyree, documenting our work.
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“I have shot thousands of images for Physicians For Peace and tens of thousands more for the many newspapers and magazines I have worked for. Most blend together and many are forgotten, but a rare few remain as crisp in my mind’s eye today as they were when I shot them. One such image I made two years and three and a half months ago.

She was in agony. Not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. Her wide eyes said it all and the zoom lens I used only seemed to magnify her pain.

She was motionless, except for her quivering lips. I still hear the sound she was making – a nearly indistinguishable whine, like the dull squeaking of an old exhaust fan. I wasn’t sure if she was pleading or praying or struggling to tell me what had happened. There was no one else with me at the burn unit in Santo Domingo to translate. That is if they could understand what she was saying. I held the camera up and motioned as if to take a picture, then gave a questioning nod. She nodded back.

She was burned from head to toe. Wearing no clothing, her arms were swaddled in bandages, a tube dangled from her nose. Thick white lotion was smeared over her raw, pink skin. The room was dimly lit except for a lamp pointed at her back to help dry the oozing blisters. The smell that cannot be mistaken for anything but burned flesh hung heavy in the air. As did her sorrow. A few clicks of the shutter and I was done. The emotions I typically struggle to suppress in these situations got the best of me.

I never forgot her and it wasn’t until today that I learned what had happened to so severely scar her body and so deeply wound her soul.

Ramon, Chris and my first stop today – Monday, February 25 – was to the Dr. Thelma Rosario Burn Unit at the Dr. Arturo Grullon Children’s Hospital in Santiago. There we met with Dr. Julio Marte Sime to talk about the types of burns most common among children in the Dominican Republic. Large pots of boiling water – often for cooking – and unattended children equal disaster in the barrios. The doctor was sharing some snapshots he had made over the years of interesting cases when one immediately stole my attention. “I know her,” I inadvertently blurted out. “I know this woman,” I said again stopping the rest of the conversation. And that was when I finally learned about the worst day in Ely Silvestre‘s life.

She, her husband and two children lived in a modest, but clean home in one of the many barrios surrounding Santiago. As he did many evenings, when the sun drifted beneath the azure horizon, Ely’s husband lit a candle in the kitchen around which the family could gather when there was no electricity. This night however, the invisible vapors of a leaking propane tank had seeped through the house, instantly exploding and killing the man. Ely, her four-year-old daughter Rossy and 8-month-old son Robert – named after his father – were also consumed by the blast. Much of Ely and Robert’s skin was seared off, Rossy was severely burned as well. Both children were taken to the Children’s Hospital and Ely was later taken to the adult burn center almost three hours away in Santo Domingo. And that is where I first saw her in November of 2005. I’m unclear if she knew exactly what had happened at that point – that here husband was dead, her son within a whisper of joining him, her daughter in agony and the home they built gone. Perhaps that was the noise she was making. Maybe she was asking me if I knew anything. Or maybe she was just saying their names over and over again as if to will their safety.

We use the word ‘hero’ much too indiscriminately these days. So I won’t call the people like Dr. Marte Sime who saved these three lives heroes. They are far too extraordinary for such a common word. Considering the resources available to them and the conditions in which they work, what those medical professionals did was nothing short of astonishing. And so today brought this circle to a close when this afternoon Ramon, Chris and I visited Ely and her family in the barrio. I was surprised at how nervous I was driving up to the home they now share with Ely’s sister and her family.

Walking inside, my mind half expected to smell that pungent odor and to hear that gut wrenching whine, but a smile as wide as the island of Hispaniola itself flashed across my face when I saw Robert playing with his tricycle, Rossy eating her lunch of rice and beans and Ely seated on a red plastic chair watching them. While both children – with the exception of their severe scarring – have made full recoveries, Ely still has a way to go. During the healing process her arms and legs fused together leaving her frozen in a crouched position and her elbows bent like a boxer blocking her body. Several painful surgeries have given her mobility in both arms and one leg, still the other remains permanently folded. She shuffles around the house after her rambunctious three-year-old son placing her weight on the bent leg, propelling herself forward with the healthier one as if she were riding an invisible skateboard. Dr. Marte Sime believes more surgery will eventually give her nearly full mobility, but he is doing the operations on his own time and at his own expense and trust me when I tell you the good doctor has little to spare of either. As we saw in the hospital today, there seems to be no end to the Ely’s and Rossy’s and Robert’s of the DR.”
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Report from the Caribbean – Day 2

A 2nd report from volunteer photographers Stephen M. Katz and Chris Tyree, currently on assignment in the Dominican Republic, shooting documentary footage of our activities.

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“It’s hard to believe that with all of the diseases and maladies in developing countries, the number one killer in the Dominican Republic of people between the ages of 15 and 49 is motorcycle accidents. For those who survive, these accidents claim countless limbs and leave people maimed and disabled, unable to work or care for their families.

With no real public transportation system and the price of cars and even taxi fare out of reach for most families, the roadways of the DR are filled with scooters and motorbikes. All day today – Sunday, February 24 – Ramon Lopez, Chris Tyree and I traveled to and from Santiago, Moca and La Vega and only twice did I see a person using a helmet. We were astounded to see how many people would typically squeeze on one bike. It was nothing to see two or three. Sometimes four, even five, often including a young child or two. On our way back to the hotel this evening Chris cried out, “We have a new record.” Six. Six people teetering on one bike. With traffic signals considered ‘a suggestion’ and few streetlights, it is no wonder that this has become a crisis.

This morning’s first stop was the emergency room at the one public hospital in the city of Moca. Four beds crammed into a room roughly 10 feet by 20 feet. Within minutes, two separate car versus motorbike victims were whisked into the room. One with head trauma, among other injuries, and one with significant abdomen trauma. On another bed was a boy, no more than five-years-old, who nearly sliced off his finger when trying to cut his kite out of a tree with a machete.

After covering the emergency room and trying to make images on the roadways to illustrate the issues of uninforced motorbike laws, we sought out a cockfight we had heard was going to be held near one of the barrios. It was a great opportunity to document one of the cultural activities that is very DR. Scores of men crowded the indoor ring, while still others gathered in small enclaves outside drinking green bottles of Presidente beer and catching up on the week’s gossip. We stayed for only a few fights. The last ended in a draw.

From there, we traveled to La Vega, the capital city of the neighboring province – also called La Vega – to document another cultural aspect of life in the DR. There, as well as in Santiago and Moca, the month of February is the time for Carnival. Each Sunday, between roughly 4 and 7 in the evening, the streets come alive with music and costumes and revelry to match that of Mardi Gras. Among the throngs of carnival-goers – walking a nearly mile-long route around the main square – are bands of costume clad teens. Faces covered in elaborate masks – lions, dragons, devils, skulls – bodies covered in shimmering and colorful robes. All dance to music pulsing from refrigerator-sized speakers spaced along the parade. And all carry objects that look like Nerf footballs attached to a rope. Before the days of polyester these were inflated, dried goat bladders. Participants sneak up behind unsuspecting spectators and whack them in the bottom. Most laugh, some yelp and rub the impact site as if to wipe away the sting.

Although the majority of this week will be spent covering the medical and economic issues that those in need struggle through, I think this afternoon was a great way to ultimately temper those somber images with sites and sounds of the people of the DR enjoying life.”

Report from the Caribbean

A report from volunteer photographers Stephen M. Katz and Chris Tyree, currently on assignment in the Dominican Republic, shooting documentary footage of our activities.

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“Long days are the norm when photographing these global health projects and today – Saturday, February 23 – was certainly no exception. But let me start from the beginning.

Chris and I left Norfolk Friday morning on a 6 a.m. flight to DC. From there we just made it out in time before the icy weather wreaked havoc on air travel in the Northeast. With a brief stop in Miami we were on our way to the Dominican Republic. Our trusted friend and guide Dr. Ramon Lopez met us at the airport. Before we even got our bags he was plying us with rum and cokes made with the DR’s much loved Brugal Rum. For the record, neither one of us could finish our first drink.

Chris and I gave ourselves a half-hour to freshen up and we were down in the lobby of the hotel planning our first several days here in Santiago. We set a bold agenda, but the passion we all share for communicating the needs of the people here will most certainly keep us moving forward. Today we started by visiting the Community Center of Fundacion Sol Naciente in Moca, a town 20 km southeast of Santiago. Doctors saw several patients at the clinic. One in particular stole our hearts. Eleven-year-old Lilibeth Reyes Brito fell on her head when she was just 3-years-old. Since then she has suffered from daily seizures. She is unable to go to school and lead the kind of life we would want our own children to live. Her only hope for stopping the daily torment is surgery, a kind that is not available in the DR. Our hope is to find a surgeon elsewhere who is willing to make the trip here to help Lilibeth.

From the clinic we visited a barrio called Sal Si Puedes, loosely translated “leave if you can.” I have visited many barrios throughout Latin America and it is always the same situation. Barrios are literally the sewer for the rest of the community. All barrios are at located at the lowest point of a town or city – typically where a stream or river flows. The end result is that all the garbage and sewage and waste travels down culverts and drains into these people’s homes. The smells are overwhelming and the filth is unimaginable. Still, the people always seem to maintain a sense of dignity and kindness to strangers with cameras. Chris and I watched children playing Puntair with a Trompo or top. The game follows the same general rules as marbles.

After a quick lunch of rice and beans with some chicken and fried plantain, we visited another barrio. This one was called La Espanola or La Punta – the point – depending on whom you asked. Men played dominos and children tugged at strings attached to kites fashioned with sticks and plastic bags. Again, the people were warm and friendly, many inviting us into their homes, typically simple shacks built from palm wood and corrugated steel roofing material.

We left the barrio to drive into the countryside a bit to see if we could find anyone working in the campos, or farms, surrounding Moca. We came across several children playing baseball in a field using a large branch as a bat and who knows what as a ball. The boys delighted in showing off for Chris and I. As the sun was beginning to set, we raced back to a village just outside Moca to document a political rally. In a couple of months the DR will hold its presidential elections and in this region, tonight was the beginning of the campaign for the favored incumbent President Leonel. The DR follows the same presidential protocol as the United States – two four-year terms. Purple flags waved from motorcycles zipping up and down the square. Young couples danced to traditional music and older men huddled together holding large bottles of Presidente beer. Local politicians gave speeches but for most this was simply a Saturday evening party.

Now I am back in my room downloading several gigabytes worth of work I shot and Chris is in his room doing the same while nursing a bad cold he brought with him from the States. Still, it was a good day. The first of many, we hope. Each image we can capture that helps the folks back home understand the needless suffering of so many, we pray is one step closer to making the lives of children like Lilibeth the kind that every kid deserves.”

Santiago Burn Unit featured in Dominican Today

Last week this story appeared in Dominican Today about PFP’s Burn Care Program in Santiago, Dominican Republic:

“Physicians For Peace (PFP), an American non-profit organization that establishes medical training missions in developing countries around the world, signed an agreement with the Dominican Ministry of Health last month establishing the unit’s regional significance after a successful mentorship exchange with a group of 14 American doctors and nurses.”

Read entire article.

More ‘Walking Free’ in the News

More personal stories about how the Physicians for Peace Walking Free program is changing lives were featured in the Philippine Daily Inquirer last week:Click to read.

Three Stories of Success in the Philippines

Over the past few months, our Walking Free program in the Philippines has been in high gear, with story after story about people walking for the first time after being born without limbs, or losing one or both legs to injury or disease. The champions of this program have been Dr. Josephine “Penny” Bundoc and her husband, Dr. Rafael “Peppy” Cruz Bundoc. Dr. Penny Bundoc is professor and Chairman of the Department of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation at the University of the Philippines, and her husband is an orthopedic surgeon at the same institution. With training they have received from Physicians for Peace volunteers, they have reached out to the amputee community in the Philippines, not only providing treatment and rehabilitation, but sharing the joy these patients experience as they learn to walk again. Here are just a few of the stories the Bundocs have sent us recently:

Two Brave Young Women, Stepping Forward Together

When little Cathy Itulde was referred for treatment by Physicians for Peace-trained medical professionals in the Philippines, she was incredibly lucky! Cathy had been born with a clubfoot on the right leg and knee disarticulation on the left. Brought to the Philippines General Hospital (PGH), she received treatment for her clubfoot, and was measured for a prosthesis, which she would be fitted for a month later. While undergoing treatment, Cathy was lucky to cross paths with another patient, Lea Medrano.

Leah, a teenage girl who had “walked” for the past 15 years in a kneeling position due to her missing leg, had recently been treated by the same caregivers, and is now a leader of the Amputee Support Group, where she assists in amputee data-base input and, most importantly, brings sunshine and hope to amputees and their families and caregivers.

Cathy hails from Antique (in the Visayas region of the Philippines) and her trip to PGH with her mother and youngest brother (who had to go with them because no one was available to care for him) was sponsored by the Rotary Club of Manila San Miguel.

All throughout Cathy’s surgery & hospitalization for correction of her clubfoot, Lea was by her side, and there were hugs, kisses and smiles all around when it was time for Cathy to go home – for one month only. Then she will return to be fitted for her new prosthetic leg!

Roxanne Navarette Finally Walks Free

Born without a leg, Roxanna Navarette refused to walk most of her childhood life. With the assistance of the Rotary Club of Clark, the Philippines, a very shy and withdrawn Roxanna was brought to PGH by her mother on piggy-back! She was one of the first children to be seen by the newly-Physicians for Peace-trained medical professionals at the PGH.

With just 2 weeks of training with her new Jaipur prosthesis, Roxanne was upgraded to a Physician for Peace-provided endoskeleton prosthesis, which was sponsored by the Kapampangan Development Foundation, an organization in the Philippines assisting amputees.

“We can not help but be overwhelmed by the confident, poised, independently-standing Roxanne beside her mother,” said one of the volunteers treating the young girl. Roxanne’s mother, to this day, is very thankful because with Roxanne physically & psychologically walking free, she too is “walking free” of Roxanne’s burden and is now able to increase the family’s income.

Marching Forward with the Help of the Military!

October 20, 2007 was another eventful day for the Physicians for Peace Walking Free program in the Philippines. The program has added a whole new group of members to the growing family of the Amputee Support Group — no less than brave men in uniform!
Philippine soldiers came down from their duties in the mountains of Bataan, laid down their guns and rolled up their sleeves to assist PFP Walking Free student volunteers, Rotarians and Operation Blessing staff in assembling wheelchairs for the disabled receiving treatment in the Bataan towns of Mariveles & Orion. The PFP Walking Free team had their hands full screening 35 amputees, measuring 23 stumps and assembling the initial 10 wheelchairs!

Each mission truly reinforces the existence of the Walking Free project…. a proof of how service to others can be highly contagious when the fruits of its benefits are so very laudable!

PFP’s Eritrea Program Featured on EastAfro.com

Asmarino5 recently reported on the opening of Asmara’s Orotta Medical School Post-Graduate program. This program was established through a partnership between Physicians for Peace, George Washington University Medical Center, and the Eritrean Ministry of Health.