The island nation of Madagascar should exist only in the movies. As the world zips by with its tools of globalization on the information superhighway, Madagascar sits, almost invisible, unnoticed, unaffected, 250 miles off the south-eastern coast of Africa. The island—the fourth largest in the world—is a haven for botanists, biologists, geographers, and humanists. Fifteen million people and diverse wildlife intermingle amid more than 10,000 species of flora in six climate zones. In fact, 80 percent of the plants and animals found in Madagascar can't be found anywhere else in the world. Were you to crisscross the 300-mile-wide, 1,000-mile-long country in search of these species, you would climb mountains, troop through rainforests, traverse river valleys, and trek through deserts.

For more than 2,000 years, this paradise has been home to the Malagasy people. Although of Indonesian and African descent, their relative isolation has forged a remarkably uniform society, with a common language and strong traditions. Malagasy culture stresses a strong bond with ancestors, and a fierce love and respect for their offspring. Which makes the fact that one in six Malagasy children die before their first birthday all the more chilling. In fact, a woman's lifetime risk of dying during childbirth is 1 in 27 (in the U.S., the risk is 1 in 3,000). The average life expectancy in Madagascar is 54.

For all its untouched charm, Madagascar is one of the poorest nations in the world. Only 3 percent of the nation's work force are wage earners. Roads are a relatively new phenomenon—the infrastructure to move goods and services and allow effective communication is nonexistent. The result: Health care in Madagascar is abysmal.

That is what brings Elaine Rossi to this rich and troubled land. For most of her adult life, Rossi has been an advocate for health and hope in places where roads don't go. The ornate lobby of the Omni Shoreham Hotel in Washington, D.C., is about as far as you can get symbolically from the country of Madagascar while still staying on the planet. Heavy crystal chandeliers, elaborate flower arrangements and grand antique furniture fill the expansive space in this classic D.C. establishment. In a span of 10 minutes, you detect at least three different languages being spoken. Suddenly Elaine Rossi appears. Even before she grabs a cup of black coffee, the 40-year-old health care advocate is full of energy. For someone who has spent a great deal of time living in undeveloped nations, Rossi seems surprisingly at ease in this bastion of capitalism and wealth. Then you realize it's not necessarily the place, but the company. Every few minutes she rises to greet a colleague or friend who is in town for the same reason she is: the Global Health Council's annual conference, which brings nearly 2,000 health and development professionals from around the world to rally around a common cause.

Elaine Rossi '82