Imagine working on a windswept beach. There would be sand in your eyes, your ears, your nose. It would cover your laptop, your notes, your camera, your everything. And no matter how many times you cleaned it off, it would be back again in the blink of an eye. That's what it's like to work in dusty, baking hot, eastern Chad. (Only without the ocean to cool off in.)

The International Rescue Committee (IRC) has just started operating in Bredjing camp, which is about 70km from the Sudanese border and home to 31,000 Darfuri refugees who've fled the fighting there. The nearest Chadian town is Hadjer Hadid, which has the feeling of a place time and the government forgot - sand roads, little infrastructure and a rundown local health center.

Given the remoteness, the area is prone to roadside robberies which means we travel to the camp in convoy for extra security. It's just one of the challenges of delivering aid to such an outlying area, along with having to bring in supplies from the capital Ndjamena, which can take two days by road or two flights.

And I soon realize the refugee camp itself has other challenges. Clean drinking water is severely limited and living conditions are basic and crowded. Families live in about 5,000 mud-brick huts with thatched roofing or perhaps plastic sheeting. Under such conditions, it's not surprising that the most frequent health complaints are diarrhea and respiratory infections, as both spread easily in cramped conditions.

Since August 2008, the IRC has been running a health center and smaller health post in the camp. As I go around them, about 70% of the cases I see are caused by diarrhea - something that can be so easily prevented. It's incredibly frustrating to see young children in such unnecessary discomfort, so I'm glad to hear that we're working with a team of local community health workers to tackle this problem.

The health workers will go from house to house to raise awareness about good health practices in the camp, such as only drinking safe water and maintaining proper sanitation. This is a big step in the right direction, although it's obviously hard to keep your family healthy when there's limited water supply, the recent rainy season has made distributions of hygiene products difficult, and 31,000 people are all living in such close proximity.

As we're chatting about this, suddenly a man appears carrying a young boy. The child lies limp in his father's arms and is clearly very sick. The boy is rushed to the observation ward, where he's examined and hooked up to a drip. From outside, I can hear him struggling to breathe and moaning slightly. It turns out he's got a severe case of pneumonia, but he's being monitored closely by staff now and should hopefully make a full recovery.

Health center manager Saleh Moussa tells me that many parents don't bring their children for treatment until they're extremely ill. Theirs has been a largely nomadic lifestyle, a long way from health facilities, so many families aren't used to seeking help immediately. In this climate, any delay means minor complaints can quickly escalate into something more serious. So again this is something that our health workers will be focusing on in their education sessions.

There's a lot to take in but as I'm rounding up my day at the health center, I realize how organized everything has been. Here we are in the middle of nowhere, in a structure that's simple plastic sheeting over wooden poles, and yet it works. Patients register, go for consultation and then on for observation or to the pharmacy. Pregnant mothers wait quietly for checkups or vaccinations, and malnourished children receive special food supplements to help them stabilise and gain weight.

In fact the only time there's any chaos all day is when I turn up. The sight of me - a white stranger - sends babies and children screaming in all directions, making the nurses sigh and me feel extremely guilty.

Despite the challenges, I leave the center feeing uplifted. I've seen health workers doing a great job despite the conditions and my day is made when I come face-to-face with one of the local ambulances - it's donkey driven! Perfect for weaving in and out of the camp's small houses and extremely cheap to fuel. Talk about adapting to the local environment ...

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