On Shaky GroundMaternal InstinctsANNE PFITZER ’85The main university hospital in Port-au-Prince was plagued with problemsbefore the January earthquake. Sewagewould sometimes back up; bathrooms oftenwere out of order. But that was nothing comparedto what Anne Pfitzer ’85 found when shearrived at the hospital with Jhpiego, an affiliateof Johns Hopkins University that focuses onmaternal and child health.The hospital was vacant. Supplies, beds, andequipment had been dragged outside, and thematernity ward was housed in a cluster of tents.Obstetrics had used an indoor operating roomuntil about a week after the quake, when a giantaftershock hit. Pfitzer arrived in Port-au-Princethree days after that tremor. The Haitian Ministryof Health directed Pfitzer, Jhpiego’s associatedirector of global programs, and hercolleagues to the university hospital. “Wethought the best way to help was to leap intoaction as soon as possible,” she said. “FromJohns Hopkins Hospital and from stores andpharmacies in the Dominican Republic, we hadgotten everything we needed to establish a smallbirth clinic.”They got to work amidst the chaos. Maternitytents sat alongside pediatrics, which sometimesmeant that children’s limbs were beingamputated near women in labor. “You hadgangrene next to C-sections, which is not whatyou want,” Pfitzer said. Women in labor, sometimesattended to by medical workers withlimited obstetrical training, had no privacy andendured 100-degree temperatures.Richard LamporteAnne Pfitzer ’85Pfitzer described a frenzied scene: womenin labor ambling about, relief workers and missionarieshanding out water, the Army’s 82ndAirborne standing guard, even a youngstersmoking marijuana in the maternity ward.Among her stories is a portrait of one resoluteHaitian woman, Marlene Gourdet, the chiefnurse of the maternity ward. Gourdet foughtrelentlessly to move the ward back inside thebuilding, which had been deemed safe. Pfitzercalls her a hero. “She was haranguing supportstaff about getting back into the building,”Pfitzer said. “We latched onto this formidablewoman. With her help, we saved equipment.We started doing services inside.”For Jhpiego, Pfitzer’s work was hands-onand immediate, but also conceptual and longterm.She helped women in labor, handwrotemedical charts, and doled out prenatal vitamins,but she also drafted proposals, attended meetings,and coordinated planning with agencies ofthe United Nations. She returned home toMaryland after ten days, satisfied that she andher colleagues had helped reopen the maternityward and restock it with basic supplies. But shewas exhausted and pensive. She shared the concernsof her colleague, Richard Lamporte, whowrote in a blog:“. . . Seven thousand pregnant women—all expected to give birth in the nextmonth. After the earthquake, will theymake different decisions about theirfamily, the size of their family, healthychoices? Will they know where and whento seek care? . . .”C O N C O R D A C A D E M Y M A G A Z I N E S P R I N G 2 0 1 022Anne Pfitzer ’85 sortingmedical supplies inHaiti; above, the constantmedical activityshe witnessedPfitzer may not learn the answer firsthand.In March, she left Jhpiego after sixteen yearsfor a position at Save the Children. Haiti wasa sort of grand finale, an indelible memory.“The hardest thing is those stories,” she said.“Everybody tells you where they were on theday of the earthquake, the people who lost alltheir family. After a while that would reallyget to me, but doing the work was really inspiringand motivating.”No quake could quash the unique emotionsthat live in a maternity ward. “There was a lot ofjoy. Even though their lives had fallen apart,they had this new life,” she said. “There weresome sweet moments like that.”—Gail Friedman
On Shaky GroundA Dangerous CrossroadsELIZABETH “LIZA” MCALISTER ’81“In the face of a completelycollapsed social infrastructure,in the face of indescribablesuffering and suddensuffering, the only thing manypeople had is religiousresources . . . “Pierre MinnYou may have seen her on TV or read heropinions in major newspapers. In thedays following the Haitian earthquake,the media, searching for insight, repeatedly ranto Elizabeth “Liza” McAlister ’81, an associateprofessor of religion at Wesleyan Universityand a recognized expert on Afro-Caribbeanreligions. She was on NPR, PRI, Fox Radio,and New York Times Interactive. She wrotepieces for CNN and publications including theWashington Post and Forbes, and she was quotedin the New Yorker. Those reports, however,did not necessarily let on that McAlister waspersonally affected by the quake: her husband,Holly Nicolas, is Haitian, and much of hisextended family lives on the island. “The firstthree days were this particular kind of uncertaintywhen you just didn’t know,” McAlistersaid. “There was no communication. The stressof the uncertainty is very, very bad.”Slowly, she and Holly learned that familymembers had survived, though many were livingoutside, fearful of another powerful tremor.A sister-in-law lost the second floor of herhome; a nephew was buried under a schoolbut rescued quickly. At home, McAlister wasworried about her husband’s family. But on TV,radio, and in print, she was a scholarly voiceoffering perspective on the Haitian people andtheir culture. “Since my field is religiousstudies, I’ve been looking at various aspectsof the story of religion in Haiti and the quake,”she said. “How are people making meaningout of suffering? I also looked at the politics ofreligion and how religiously motivated aidgroups are operating.”McAlister believes religion is a key componentof the Haitians’ survival, physically andElizabeth McAlister ’81, second from right, with her husband Holly, his mother Andrée, and their son Julienpsychologically. “In the face of a completelycollapsed social infrastructure, in the face ofindescribable suffering and sudden suffering,the only thing many people had is religiousresources, that is, the resources of inner strengthand an understanding of a connection to alarger cosmic order, the sense of a connection topowers outside oneself,” she said. She noted awoman trapped for several days who had recitedpsalms to endure and the songs that waftedthrough Port-au-Prince after sundown. “Peoplewere singing hymns as a way to run painthrough the body, as a way to run pain throughthe psyche,” she said. “It was a way to breathelife back into the space of death.”McAlister’s first book, Rara! Vodou, Power,and Performance in Haiti and Its Diaspora, publishedin 2002, cemented her standing as anexpert on religion’s role in the poorest countryin the Western hemisphere. But her connectionsto Haiti were well-established even before shearrived as a sophomore at Concord Academy.During her childhood, the area where shelived in Rockland County, New York, experienceda substantial influx of Haitian immigrants.McAlister’s father, a civil rights activist,opened a community center and became “theunofficial welcomer to the community.” McAlisterwas intrigued by the people and their culture;slowly, she also became intrigued by thefield of anthropology. By the time she was ajunior at Concord Academy, she was urging theschool to offer a class. Then Head of SchoolPhilip McKean, who holds a PhD in anthropology,agreed to teach a small group of students.McAlister researched the Hare Krishnas. “Theylet me sign out to the Hare Krishna headquartersin Boston,” she marveled. “I remembersitting in my room in Haines House writingmy paper. I remember taking myself very seriously.I was doing anthropology of religioneven at Concord.”She went on to Vassar, and after a junioryear abroad returned home to find some friendsstudying under a master Haitian drummer. AtCA, McAlister had played piano and flute, butthat spring and summer, she learned to drum,eventually performing with the master drummerat religious services. “I was an anthropologymajor. When I started going to religiousservices in Brooklyn, I thought, ‘This is anthropology.’No one had written about ceremonialreligious services in New York.”The seed was planted for her undergraduate23C O N C O R D A C A D E M Y. O R G S P R I N G 2 0 1 0