Port-au-Prince - In the five years since Port-au-Prince
was devastated by an earthquake, staff at Haiti's largest hospital have had to
resort to examining patients in shipping containers.
More than half of the HUEH university hospital in the
already desperately poor nation was destroyed in the 2010 disaster that killed
more than 200 000 people.
A $50m reconstruction process, financed in equal parts by
France and the United States, began in earnest two years ago and is due to end
in late 2017.
French President Francois Hollande is due to visit next
week, but it is clear that much remains to be done - while the harried staff
struggle to keep services running.
Carine Cleophat has worked at the hospital for more 20
years. She is head of radiology, but finds herself dealing with all sorts of
disruptions as she makes her rounds.
Here, she shoos away a man selling fans. There she tells
a woman lounging on a bench to sit up. Now she remonstrates with a motorcyclist
who honked his horn on hospital grounds.
The hospital's structure may be dilapidated, but she is
battling to make order from chaos.
"It is very hard to manage the same number of people
we had before the earthquake in a much smaller space," she sighs.
"Paediatric emergency services are given under a big
tent. Some of the labs are in shipping container offices."
The cramped conditions will last another two years, and
there is one more major problem that wouldn't trouble hospitals in the
developed world: "We have electrical cuts."
Haiti's national power utility EDH provides on average 12
hours of electricity a day in the capital.
"Here, at the temporary hospital, we don't even have
a generator," complains Cleophat.
"So we just have to wait until EDH resumes service
each time. It can last for hours."
Nevertheless, for most of Haiti's largely poor
population, the HUEH hospital is their only source of serious medical care,
despite the construction work going on all around.
Most of the services had to be moved to the neighbouring
former military hospital, which has been opened to the civilian public for
nearly a year.
"We receive 80 to 100 people each day but only have
four offices for appointments," says Yolaine Paultre Bijou, assistant head
of dermatology.
Power cuts
The rooms are partitioned by floral print curtains.
"Several doctors work here at the same time. There
is no privacy," said Bijou.
"How can you speak normally with a patient when
everyone else can hear you? We cannot provide quality care in such a limited
space."
The hospital's director, Maurice Fils Mainville, points
to another problem: Holding on to qualified staff in a country with a history
of emigration.
"There are more Haitian doctors in New York state
than in the Haitian Republic," he said.
Nevertheless, he finds ground for optimism in the
foreign-financed reconstruction.
"The general hospital was more than 80 years
old," he explains. "Rebuilding it with modern buildings and a water
purification centre is a true step forward."
