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Perspectives in Health Magazine |
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 An Act of Love Vaccination Week in the Americas (continued) Cusubamba, June 4
When we arrive, a band is playing live music, and people are everywhere, many of them in indigenous dress. The plaza, with its church and small shops, is decorated as if for a festival. Bands of children run noisily after ice cream and candy vendors while adults gather solemnly and attentively for the official ceremony. Between songs, people give speeches thanking all those whose efforts have gone into the vaccination campaign. It’s like a festival—a celebration of health. And just a few meters away from the music and speeches, children are being vaccinated. It is a spectacle of color, goodwill and dedication. Río Daule, June 6
During an entire week, every day from sunrise to sunset, an army of 200,000 health workers will give their best so that 15 million children can receive their vaccines. For the children, this week marks a turning point in their lives. Instead of becoming victims of preventable diseases, they will have the opportunity to grow up healthy and strong. Instead of becoming mere statistics or fodder for public speeches, they will be honored by the actions of people who truly care for them. Instead of being simple survivors, they will be able to wake up each day to the morning sun and do what all children do: go to school, play and be happy. Manuel Calvit is a radio producer, video editor and scriptwriter in the Public Information Area of the Pan American Health Organization (PAHO) in Washington, D.C. Armando Waak is PAHO’s staff photographer. |
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The official launching ceremony for the campaign begins at midday. We get an early start and are buoyed by cloudless blue skies and a light breeze. A detour in the road delays us, but coming out of it we soon begin a serpentine upward climb toward Cusubamba. We notice apparent deforestation, which allows for clearer views of the mountainous, arid landscape. We drive on in silence.
Slowly the late afternoon sun begins to fade. We drive along a road that parallels the Daule River, whose green waters blend in with the vegetation along its shore. We leave the car behind and continue on foot along a narrow dirt path until we reach a clearing. We hear children laughing and playing, crickets chirping and the sound of a radio. In the midst of it all, I suddenly feel myself surrounded by silence. Someone whose face I never see says, "Do you see over there on the river, in the distance? Those are health workers going by boat up the river. During the rest of the week, they’ll visit all the villages along the river to vaccinate children who can’t come all the way down here." Three boats move gently through the murky waters, each in a different direction: upriver, downriver, onto a tributary—but each with the same goal.