Why Yes, I Did Just Get Catcalled by the Police.

And instead of a “ayyyy nena” or a honk, they just gave me a little “whaaaoooop” of the sirens.

Galapagos Feb 4

This was probably my favorite day of the whole trip. We had a relaxed morning which entailed me taking a two-hour nap. Being on antibiotics really takes it out of you. At 10, we went to the subcentro de salud on the island. It was fascinating, both to see it with my own eyes and see other people's reactions.

It was very similar to Puembo, same paperwork, posters, and organization. It was larger, with a special OBGYN and pediatrician and a trauma room. I was very impressed and pleased to be there, but I think many other people were not. Many pre-med students I was in a group with were surprised by how small and bare the spaces were. Additionally, they were shocked by the trauma room. Alcohol, agua oxegenada (peroxide?) and other cleaning fluids were stored in Gatorade bottles and most of the equipment was very old.

I'm really of mixed opinions about this. On one hand, yes, healthcare all over the world should be equal. The ecography machine should be less than twenty years old, records should be computerized, alcohol should come in its own bottle. On the other hand, its impressive that an island 600 miles from shore is integrated into a national health care system, that this system gives free care and medications, that there is alcohol and a trauma room to use it in. Additionally, when you think about it, most emergency room visits can be treated with a few stitches, a bandage, antibiotics, an IV for rehydration and other simple procedures. Probably 75 or 80 percent of medical care can be considered "basic." And cases that aren't basic might be just as likely to die in an excellent hospital or a basic one. It’s a matter of perspective and where to put your money. And in most cases, Ecuador has put its money where its mouth is.

Ate lunch, got on the boat to Santa Cruz. On the way there, I overheard a really interesting conversation between an unnamed student and an unnamed teacher/coordinator/guy in charge. Student was pointing at something and accidentally poked Adult's exposed belly (we were all sitting around in bathing suits)

Adult: Hey man, don't touch me

Student: sorry, it was an accident.

A: No man, I notice you, I see you touching a lot of guys.

S: We are a close group of friends. We are comfortable with each other

A: Its pretty gay.

(Silence for a long while)

S: so, you've worked with kids from K before? So you know what Crystal Ball is?

A: No, what is that?

S: Its a dance, where the guys dress up like girls, and the girls like guys and everyone just sort of goofs off about gender. So you have to understand that homophobia doesn't really exist in our culture

A: I'm not part of your culture; so don't touch me any more.

Wow. How do you respond to that, to a person in power showing such...bigotry might be too strong, but its also appropriate? And what if the Student had been gay? What if he was unsure about his sexuality? I'm proud of my friend for defending his relationship with his friends, the culture of K, his own rights. And I feel uncomfortable that the Adult went automatically to judgment and anger in a situation that started off as relaxed. Of course, its part of Ecuadorian culture drilled in early that being gay is the worst possible thing that you could be. But this Adult is hired to make international students feel comfortable. We had been speaking in English and using USA standards of behavior all day, the whole trip. Of course, in lots of parts of the USA, in places all over the world that kind of behavior is OK, but on that boat between two islands, we all felt uncomfortable.

Ok, moving on. We got to Santa Cruz and it was beautiful, island paradise style. Oh! We saw this giant solar-powered boat in the harbor that is traveling around the world-teaching people about solar power. So that was cool. We went to our hotel and it was lovely and had a pool. Of course, the guys were acting as though they were all in a giant romantic relationship so as to put off our favorite Adult. Also, because they are friends and like to make human pyramids in pools.

Highlights: Public heath and fighting homophobia where you see it: both things I think about on a daily basis.

Gender Bender

Written about Monday

Pretty quiet day yestearday, considering how things usually are. In the morning, the Leci and I prepared all the patientes to see the Duk and then went to Yaruqui. When I was first figuring out my ICRP, I was going to work at the hospital in Yaruqui, but its much farther away so I settled on little Puembo. However, its number 14 of the 26 public hospitals in the province of Pichincha. Babies are born by Ceasarian, virus loads are counted, you can go to a psychologist or an OB-GYN. The bus ride there isn't long, you take the Puembo bus out to La Y and then the Yaruqui bus another 30 minutes east.

We went there to drop off spetum samples from the TB patients as well as requests for more mecication and supplies, and to get a new set of Hep B vaccines. It was exciting to be in a larger hospital with better division of labor. A pediatrician, a pharmacist, someone who just works with the endless charts spilling out of thier shelves, they all have thier jobs in Yaruqui. Those postions would be redundant in Puembo, of course, but it would certainly make life easier.

I'm also getting to know Leci better. We talk about our families or learning spanish or english or how hard the job is. She's working in Puembo on her Rural Year too, which I didn't know. She'll be looking for work in May. She hopes to keep working in a sub-centro in a rural area, maybe Latacunca or Ambato.

the most interesting/embarassing part of the day came as I was preparing a patient for the afternoon appotintments. It was a one month old baby and its mother wanted to open up a history and get a infant check-up.

I'll back up a little bit and explain what makes this just so embarassing. On Sunday, sitting in a park in Cuenca, we were talking about how here babies live very gendered lives. Little boys are almost always in blue and girls are in dresses or pink or yellow with lace and they always, always have thier ears pierced. From a very very yongue age. Often its done in the hospital, but we have had a few times when parents march in with a three-month-old and ask for the earrings to be shoved in, sans gun. So earrings are omnipresent among little girls and I was saying I didn't like it. First of all, taking care of your earrings is something we equate with maturity. Its sort of a sign of growing up, cleaning and turning the posts. Second, and most strong for me, is the gendered behavior of earrings. For me, a huge part of how I grew up was being comfortable with gender ambiguity. I know that's not everybody's story and that not everybody wants that, but I also know there was no way I could have pulled that off with gold hoops in my earlobes. When parents pierce thier little girls ears when they are very yongue, they are demanding that thier daughters will act like women the rest of thier lives and that they cannot hide thier gender in profile view.

So that's what I was thinking as this mother brought in her baby to fill out the forms. The admission form in pretty arduous and by the time I get to the easy questions I usually breeze along to give the parents a break "Gender....male....civil status....single." Because at least the last one is obvious for a baby. And I thought the first question was too, for a baby dressed all in blue with unmarred ear lobes.

Of course, I forgot to weigh and measure the patient when I filled out the forms, so it was a good ten minutes before the mom wrestled the diaper and put her child (named Dennis Joannah) on the scale. Little Dennis might only have been a month old, but I know a vagina when I see one, and she was in possession. But still I didn't want to believe it. I didn't believe that a mother would dress her baby in opposition to her gender. I didn't believe that a mother might choose ambiguity, or choose hand-me-downs from an older child, or just like the color blue and the name Dennis.

I still didn't believe it, so I asked for the vaccine card they give you at birth: pink, niña. I had to use white-out all over the admission forms and staple another page on the chart: growth chart for girls, not boys. During this time, Dennis peed herself and the mom put her in a new diaper with trains and airplanes on the front.

For a girl who had short hair for years, for a girl who wore boy's jeans, for a girl named Dana, for a girl who isn't always so into being a girl, I sure made a lot of assumptions about what it means to be a girl or a boy in that office. I started my behavior because I wanted to make the patient comfortable. I've asked grown men and pregnant mothers thier gender and they always react shocked. Of course they do, they are presenting gendered signs on purpose. But this mother wasn't and I didn't give her the benefit of the doubt. Or the benefit of androgyny, or the benifit of just having a tiny baby and leaving it at that.