Happenin's

Written Tuesday Night

I'm sleepy all the time. Its 10:07 and I wish I had gone to sleep hours ago. Seven thirty would have been good, or at 9 after the Big Bang Theory.

Maybe instead of talking about that semi-good sitcom, I should tell you about my life in a foreign country. Sounds good.

Saturday, I went on adventure with my friend Stewart. We took the TeleferiQuo, a big fancy gondola system up the mountain Pichincha that creats the Western wall of Quito. Pichincha is semi-active and there was a huge ash eruption maybe ten or twenty years ago. Its not dangerous, just thrilling. Anyway, we went up to the top and started looking for horses to ride through this beautiful paramo that lies at the top. After walking uphill for an hour or so, we found no horses to rent, so we kept walking another two hours. This is not a tourist activity, you're at over 4000 meters and the altitude made even Stew and I take frequent breaks so that we could "appreciate the beautiful scenery that surrounds us."

Our goal was this giant rocky crag of black volcanic stone that we were calling Nono because we thought that was the name. It's not, though, Nono is the name of a suburb to the south of Quito. So we walk along, calling out to Nono, our nononovia. Once we reach Nono, there is heavy evidence of landslides, the black rocks look even bigger and scarier than they did from far away. We say Nono more; the oxygen is thin and we are hungry. We tromp down singing every song we can remember the words to. As we near the bottom, maybe 1000 meters away, we find the horses. They look very gallant with thier saddals and woven blankets against the mountain and sky but look pretty underfead and tired. However, there are llamas that you can take unlimited pictures with if you pay 50 cents. You can also wear a cowboy hat and a poncho. Stewart takes advantage of this deal and I almost feel like I'm betraying a secret to tell you how happy he was. Not that he was embarassed to be happy, its that it was an embarassment of riches. The pictures on my camera better come out well because they really restored my faith in the natural world and the bond between man and animals.

Sunday, I mostly just slept. Acually, I watched an entire season of The Big Bang Theory, but let's not talk about that. Monday, i didn't go to work. Rather, I worked on my paper for my ICRP and took a shower at abuelas because our house did not have water because the neighbors were not paying the water bills. Good job, neighbors.

Today, I was back at work in Puembo. it was a day that really broke the routine, in a way that was not particularly pleasant. Firstly, we went to a local high school to attend to the students. The Duk and I loaded up an offical Ministry of Public Health backpack with medicine and forms and walked ten or so blocks to the school. As soon as we turned the corner, I remembered why we mark the box "Rural" when tehy ask on forms. A block away from the center of town there are fields of corn and barley and onion. Pichincha is to the West and you could see the snowy tops of Cotopaxi and Antisana if it were to be clear. The roads are grey brick with straw in the cracks. A horse passes us, then a John Deere tractor. The houses are brick and mud. Its obvious that we are in the mountains. Not very high, and quite close to a giant city, but in the Sierra without a doubt.

There are some parts of this rural world that remind you of the poverty. Its customary to dress in many, many layers of clothes, four or five shirts and sweaters, pants under pants. And people wear these without worry for stains or marks or rips. They are patched and repaired and worn forever. And that in itself is not a sign of poverty, its a choice of consumption and wardrobe, but its does effect how people view you. Before spending time up here, I would have almost automatically judged someone for wearing stained clothes. Now I think twice about it and understand that rules of looking good, looking solid, looking and feeling healthy here are different than those I am used to.

Anyway, we got to the school and it was a relajo. They had set up this giant tent for us in the middle of the basketball court with a gurney, table, and some benches. We basically had to set the whole thing up with 400 high schoolers wandering around, asking questions, touching stuff, and trying to get out of class. Originally, about 70 kids lined up, all claiming to be sick. The Odontologist and I walked around, interrogating each one "how long have you had the cough?" "Does it hurt when you swallow" "How loud is the snoring" and sending kids who were obviously not sick back to class.

After a while, the Leci showed up with the many, many things we had forgot: the sharps bottle for tounge depressors, a trashbag, thermometers, and much, much more Ibuprofen.

Because there's not much you can do when you have a cold or a fever or even the flu really. You can throw up and feel hot and drink tea and soup for a few days, and sleep a lot. I am sure people here understand that for the most part, but part of my job is interacting with the people that do not. Today, for example, I spoke to five partents who were frantic and pleading with worry about their children that had sore throats and fevers. Strep is horrible and so is tonsilitis and H1N1 is a risk, but for the majority of those fevers you just have to lie there and be miserable. Once we give out the appointments for the day, there's no fitting anybody else in unless its a heavy-bleeding emergency. On one hand, I feel horrible telling partents to take thier kids home, let them lie down, give them water and juice and tea, and wait a few days. On the other hand, I feel that its not my place to tell them how to deal with children I don't have. On my newly-created third hand, shouldn't they know how to deal with a fever already?

So there's been a lot of that lately, a lot of sick-eyed kids and parents that grab your arm and plead and beg for the appointment with the magic doctor that will give the magic pills (avialiable over the counter at ten cents a pop) that will take the evil away.

Enough judgement and poor interpretation of cultural values. Time to sleep