EN LAS COMUNIDADES --Outreach into the (more) Remote Villages
So off we go for a day away from the remote Urubamba district (where the Centro de Salud is located an hour or so from our EcoHotel) and up and up (to 3,800 meters/around 12,000 feet) two hours more into a remote village on slightly bumpy, hair pin roads into the beautiful stacks of the Andes -- some swirled by lovely transparent clouds and mist. Occasionally, there are layers of horizontal stairs made from stones stretching across a mountain. Stacked side by side,the stones result in horizontal stripes, all dotted by star-like bursts of Aloe plants. At the bottom of one mountain we see Incan ruins from our bus window ... then a river rushing down and a waterfall splashing over large boulders and stones ... continuing, it seems, endlessly.
We see wild boars grazing in the fields or walking along our road -- we see filthy, dust covered alpacas (strange the alpaca knitted products are so pristine), bulls, and of course, the ubiquitous colorful slings of the "Mamis" holding the children.
We have been anticipated by radio notices and cars sent out into the countryside shouting the arrival of today's arrival of the American doctors. I wonder if the announcement is also heard by some who might not like gringos ... (thank God, it doesn't happen).
We arrive. We are expecting a hut, but actually find a cozy little brand new clinic of course, without tiolets that flush or paper, but a clinic! A young, sweet, Dr. Marvin and a dentist are there. Mostly anyone we see has never seen a dentist.
We are met by two German students assigned to us by Corazones del Peru (an overseas organization with our name, but translated to Spanish, yet not associated directly with us). They help steer patients around.
We see, examine, and diagnose over 100 patients -- quite a feat since the dialogue has
to go round and round due to the three languages. Only the children speak Spanish, they
are thus given the opportunity to go beyond their home village, if they choose -- they go
to the school just minutes up the road by foot. The older generation speak only Quechua.
We see a 102 year old woman. We see very young children, some who come alone, or have
in a tow a younger sib (i.e., an eight year old who brings along a sick three year old).
We break for lunch, again provided by Jorge who transports beef milanese strips, fried cheese pieces, bread, fresh oranges, bananas de India (the tiny ones), water!, incredible
avocados and great marmalade made from Sauco (like blueberries) and Aguaymanto
(this magic fruit in sweet chunks which produces a heavy syrup when cooked). Unreal.
We decide to give everyone Albendezole even if they don't report symptoms or worms because the town is putting up a water system so the meds will get rid of them and then
they'll start drinking the potable water. Maybe we shall wipe out the parasite problem
for them!
All the children are rushing in to be seen by our eye clinic and want to be able to see
at school and read. If one of our "consultorios" is open, they all cram in at the door,
pushing to see and be seen.
The little building is a quadrangle which opens to a very, very small open air patio (patio
being a patch of dried dirt). Everyone is running between rooms, trying to get a doc's
signature, or get a Quechua translator. It's a dance set to De Falla music!
At one point, a bit desperate for help, I open the dentist's door (bilingual Quechua/
Spanish) and he breaks from his own case to help us next door. Can't imagine doing this
in the U.S. There is typically a foursome as mentioned before:patient/doc/translator/translator.
These people are dirtier and poorer than even those in Urubamba.
One of our docs is so sick now that she couldn't even come with us (while one of the young, recently graduated docs crashed yesterday but has returned to help us today.
Tonight I give into the hacking cough I've developed and which has kept me up for
nights, bloody dry nose, and burning eyes (all symptoms our patients exhibited today) and
decide not to go to the next Comunidad outreach tomorrow. I'm determined to recuperate
and not get as sick as my colleagues are. We are scheduled to go to
Pampallacta, in the District of Calca. (As I hear later, the bus ride alone was amazingly
beautiful and even more spectacular than today's!)
I try to at least take a hot shower, but after I undress and am ready for relief, my room , which has all along had intermittent hot water, has none tonight. I put on a shirt, my winter fleece jacket, and get into bed dirty, dusty, and cruddy from head to toe. My throat and
eyes burn, I'm coughing.
Got to get better -- want to go on our arranged trip to Machu Picchu day after tomorrow.
Can't read -- "ojos lagrimosos que se pican, que se rascan" -- I hear the patients' complaints as I experience the symptoms. So, I want to just see and hear the TV in my room ... hasn't worked
since I got here, so I call downstairs -- no one at from desk. One of the students gathered in
the common room picks up and it's one of my own "queridos" from last semester. His tone
is affectionate and polite, but clearly a bit amused -- that my lack of technology
(my standard line in class: "I know Spanish, not computers") extends this far. A TV?! This is pretty funny (I even think so).
He sweetly asks if I want his help -- yes, of course. He comes up, fiddles with these
crazy rabbit ears on the set which neither of us had seen in years ... milagro!
The one channel I get is great -- I dumb down and zone out -- just what I need -- it is
in Spanish -- por supuesto! -- and is about a director and his actors -- I hear all about
Gwyneth Paltrow ... then "las noticias mundiales" in Spanish and I crash ...
I drink hot water all night from the big thermos brought to each room each day.
One of the docs with stethoscope around his neck accompanied by our great
pharmacist had come earlier and left me some strong cough suppressant which (que no
se lo digas) I never did take.
I want to get better because I'm to accompany her husband and her plus one of our
Doctoras (my friend and colleague who has been a faculty facilitator for the trip) and Doctores
(her husband and Dean of Students) to Machu Picchu. I've made the hotel arrangements and am to "servir de interprete."
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