Back to the Grind (Sort of)

(A picture of me working hard! Actually, in this picture I'm in Peru blogging to you.)

So we've been back in the States for two days now and I started working again at my research/clincal job. It's not that I'm not grateful for my job or that I don't really like it at times but it's been difficult being back. The first problem is that I've got some sinus issues right now and I'm taking medicines that make me feel like a zombie all day at work. The ironic thing that being machine-like helps me get through the duldrums of research data-entry. Second, I finally broached the subject to my professor/mentor today about writing an article on the research that we are doing, but up until then it's been mostly aimless reading about nutrition and odd-jobs that I readily accept from co-workers to help fill my time. Hopefully I can find some mind-stimulating work as the summer winds down. I'm still committed to trying to get my first published article out of this.

Alas, I only have 2 1/2 more days until I have another entire week off. It's not really that hard being me. The last paragraph I built up pity for myself and now I show that I'm nothing but a softie. See, Meg and I are going to Celeste's wedding in Rome, GA and then we're going to go visit the famous, revered, and all too humble Dr. Ethelyn Smith from Senetobia, MS. I can't wait, I hope to get tons more doctorin' and small town stories out of her. Ethelyn was a physician in Senatobia for about 60 years and she cannot drive half a mile in her car without waving to someone or telling us a story about the town she knows everything about. I wish I had the same sense of belonging and home that she does. She's so thoughtful that she kicked her favorite cat out of the house two months ago and bought a HEPA filter because she knew we were coming to visit this summer and that my allergies were bad last time we stayed.

Anyway, I'll give some more ideas on Peru once I have the chance to decompress my sinuses and have clear thoughts. Also, I'm meeting with Carlos Torres-Sanchez tomorrow from the Jefferson County Health Department to see how I can get involved with the Latino health here in Birmingham. Hopefully, I'll have a chance to raise awareness at school, learn Spanish better, and be an advocate for some folks who don't have much social support.

3 & 4

(See Spanish word of the day)

Lesson 3: People treat you differently according to your supposed place is society. I've been called everything from friend and doctor to probably some really nasty words in Quechua. The reason is because I've never occupied such different places in a society as I do here. See, when I'm in the clinic working with Dr. Allen and Jose everyone sees me as helpful and caring; but, when I'm walking around Cusco or some ruins or riding a bus in San Jeronimo with a monstrous camera around my neck they see me as a tourist, and I know from my dad that locals don't take too kindly to tourists. I often ignore the fact that I am different than the rest of the world around me when I'm somewhere other than the Southeast. All this to say, I've learned that Meg was right about cultural sensitivity. She's always been there to inform me when I stepped out of sheer gringo-ness (gringo is what Latinos often call Americans, not a demeaning term here) into offensiveness. This makes me think about what I can do differently back at home. First, I'd like to be better at including people who feel outside of my Southern-american culture. Also, I think Will and I are going to find some UAB students who are native Spanish speakers who want to learn English better and form a friendship so we can both learn from each other. Most importantly, though, I've learned that I need approach other cultures recognizing that I'm an outsider and to take a learner's stance toward them. I know that I tend to be a little to aggressive with friendship and sometimes people take offense to me invading their lives or space.

Lesson 4: Peru is the land of mysterious nocturnal noises. Seriously, every night we hear things that make very little sense to us. We hear a guy walking down the street with a very distinct whistle, people on loudspeakers making announcements that they will buy our old belongings, dogs barking at all hours, rats training above our heads training for the Beijing Olympics, roosters crowing, pigeons whooing, and even loud explosions from time to time. So, if your coming to San Jeronimo, Peru, expecting quiet solitude you might want to reconsider. Now, I'm sure that these sounds would make a lot more sense if we were native Peruvians who knew how to interpret them, but to me they will remain a mystery.

Spanish word of the day: ojotas. This word in fact has no direct English translation, but allow me to offer my own: "really sweet sandals made by Quechua women out of old car tires". Okay, maybe linguistics isn't my strength, but Meg and I both bought a pair for a whopping $3. We were thinking about marketing these shoes as handmade, fair-trade, environmentally-friendly, and a local economy-stimulating product to sell to the trend setters in the US. I think we have a great marketing idea here, so if anyone is business-minded and can make a sweet logo give me a call.

One More Day in the Clinic

(Picture of ruins at Pisaq where Meg and I hiked today.)

Tomorrow is my last day to be in the clinic. I can't believe almost three weeks have come and past. The time has flown by. I'm not sure how much more time I'll have to write so I'll try my best to give some summarizing thoughts in the next two or three entries before we leave.

First, not all that glitters is gold. This comes from "Lord of the Rings" and it's basic meaning, I think, is that just because something has initial appeal doesn't mean that it is always worth pursuing. Our experiences in Peru here have been moving, difficult, beautiful, and thought/career-provoking, but even in three shorts weeks it has not always glorious. Peru is dirty even by my standards (and to the Johnsons that's impressive), people are always around you, I don't understand the language that well, there's poverty all around, the streams are open sewers, and there's simply a lot of things I'd need to get used to here if we were to come for a while.

Second, it takes a village to raise a child. In this case, the child is the clinic. Recently, Dr. Allen has been presented with the opportunity to expand his health services to a care more for the whole person. He's gotten some calls from a local hospital who is unable to provide for housing, community, spiritual, and daily needs to chronically ill patients and they have asked him if he could do these things for them. He's really excited about serving people who are the poorest of the poor here in Peru and these patients qualify. But, here's the village part: He can't do it on his own. This, of course, is true because he's already got tons of help from his staff, other Mennonite physicians, and short-termers like myself coming in, but he and is family need more. Currently, due to increasing patient volume, the clinic is running on a financial deficit. The friction lies in the fact that Hinterland Health Ministry is seeing the expansion of it's services to a more holistic model, but they will be unable to provide the proper medications, foods, housing, etc. if they don't get some financial help. My lesson: I've finally seen first hand the needs of people a long way away from home. When I hear able pleas for donations I think about how far away I am from the problem and how I can't really make a difference in people's lives, but it's now obvious to me how untrue that is. So if you want to give some money to the Hinterland Health Ministry you can click here and find info on how to do it. I promise they didn't ask me to do this, I just know that I want to see people get better and the only people I've seen doing well here are those at Hinterland. Also, if you want to peruse their website, a put a link on the right hand side called "The Allens Website".

Spanish of the day: el sapo meaning "the frog". I have not see one frog since I've been here in Peru. Sapo, in fact, refers to a game who's closest American relative is cornhole. Sapo is a game that is played with large metal, gold-colored coins about the size of 7 half dollars stacked together. The goal of the game is to get the coins into holes cut into the top of a bedside table-looking things. And to make the game more interesting there is a frog set in the middle of the table whose mouth is open and if you somehow get your coin in the mouth you get tons of points. All this to say, Sapo is an awesome game that should be imported to the States and I might do it.

Three Years In Peru

So Meg and I burned our Passports this morning and have decided to stay in Peru for at least three years. Actually, the title refers not to how long we are staying but our three-year anniversary today. Plus, I think if we burned our Passports we might be staying here for longer than three years! We're heading into town again tonight to eat dinner at a place the Allens highly praised called Cicciolina. The New York Times actually gave this restaurant high a review, so two recommendations is enough for us. We're also both taking most of the day off tomorrow to hike, relax, reflect, and enjoy our last few days in the Southern Hemisphere. (By the way, when the water drains in the sink it drains clockwise. What direction does your water drain?) So we won't be staying in a Bed and Breakfast like we did the last two years, but I can't say I'm disappointed about being in Peru and waking up to look out our our windows and see mountains 360 degrees around us. A good anniversary song that Meg and I both love is "Start with the Ending" by David Wilcox. Being honest and making each other stronger is what we try to make our marriage about. What I love about this song is that it says that death must come before life in a very domestic, artistic fashion. Here are the words:

The secret of a happy marriage,
maybe you should write this down
If you want to keep a love together,
the best way is to end it now
Because when you both know its over,
suddenly the truth comes out
You can talk about your secret passion,
you can talk about your restless doubt.

When there's no pretending,
then the truth is safe to say,
Start with the ending,
get it out of the way
Now there's no defending,
because no one has to win
Start with the ending,
its the best way to begin.

After you have both decided,
you were missing something that you need
The ways that you were too short-sighted,
get easier for you to see
And after all the expectations
shatter on the kitchen floor
You just see another human suffering,
and you wonder what the war was for.

When there's no pretending,
then the truth is safe to say,
Start with the ending,
get it out of the way
Now there's no defending,
because no one has to win
Start with the ending,
its the best way to begin.

Happy anniversary darling,
we go back a long, long time
I think about our lives together,
I'm so grateful you are here in mine
And I know you'll keep on changing,
you're moving in this dance with me
I love the way we embrace the future
and keep the past a memory.

So there's no defending
that the old ways could remain
We start with the ending
and things will never be the same
Now there's no defending,
because no one has to win
Start with the ending,
its the best way to begin.

Life In San Jeronimo

For all the faithful readers, sorry that I haven't written in a few days. I finally signed up for Skype, so I've felt connected enough to the US to satisfy my blogging desires for a few days. Plus, everything has been pretty normal lately except that Will left us for the States today. Also, I apologize for all the pictures today, but they tell a better story than I do.

This weekend we ended up in downtown Cusco again because the ruin, Saqsaywaman (sound it out, it's like Mad Gab), that's really close to the city cost more than we were willing to pay. So, I actually enjoyed walking around town more this time because it wasn't nearly as crowded as it was on Friday night. In addition, Meg, Will, and I took a good bit of time to just read and think as we sat in the plazas and on the overlooks.

Besides our Saturday excursion into town, we hung just around San Jeronimo the rest of the weekend. Yesterday we went to a little outdoor restaurant and paid under $17 for four people with hefty entrees, an appetizer, and four drinks. It's crazy how cheap it is to live here. A person who makes $1,000 a month here is well into the middle class and most likely owns his/her own home and car, which is a rarity. We also walked around the market taking pictures, smelling the smells, and being just much a spectacle to the locals as they are to us. It was sobering to think that the camera I had hanging around my neck cost more than what most folks make selling at market in a year. Greg (Will's replacement as apartment-mate) noticed something about the vendors in the market that I thought was profound, he said, "I think it's great that even though some people here are dirt poor, they still keep a sense of beauty about themselves in their dress and culture." It's true, even though poverty can dampen people's perception of human dignity, it doesn't ever completely mute the image of their creative Maker. These pictures prove it. (Pictures: 1. Saqsaywaman, 2. overlooking Cusco, 3. plaza de Armas, 4. folded mantas that women wear to carry their belongings and their progeny, 5. a stack of hats that I found in a store that sells these to Quechua women)

As an aside, I've been writing a lot about poverty in the last few days not because this whole country is poor and I feel sorry for everyone here. On the contrary, it is a very wonderful place full of cultural and historical richness, beautiful buildings, and resplendent scenery. The reason it's been such a hot topic for me is that I'm now seeing it for the first time in a concrete way and letting it sink into my bones.

Also, tomorrow I'll put a couple pictures of our abode as requested by my sister. Uploading these pictures has taken me all of the movie "Rudy" plus about 20 minutes, so I quit for tonight.

Downtown Cusco

Last night we rode a taxi into town (quite an adventure in itself) and took in the scenery of an evening in Cusco. We ate at this great place called Inka Grille and walked around the city and looked at all the beautifully lit cathedrals. Interestingly, when we got down there at about 8 pm there were kids getting out of school! I couldn't imagine leaving school past dark. Almost all the schools here require kids to wear uniforms and usually the elementary kids go to school from 8-1 pm and older kids from 3-8 pm in keeping with the mid-afternoon siesta. Walking around Cusco was great, but I have to say that I'm not much of a city boy. Cusco's excitement alongside its colonial beauty is marvelous, but there was so much homeless and poverty that I couldn't enjoy it without a mix of sadness. I think this mixture is true of every city and I can't really bring myself to enjoy it the way I enjoy looking at the stars or the waves or any other natural beauty.

We actually went downtown with Will and Greg our outgoing and incoming apartment-mates. Will is a fellow med students at UASOM with me and he's been down here 5 weeks with Dr. Allen. I've really enjoyed hanging out with him the past 10 or 11 days. It's been really encouraging to hear his perspectives on medicine, his experience here, and his desires for the future. His realism coupled with his hope for change is both motivating and refreshing. We've kind of run in different crowds in Birmingham, but there's not doubt we've developed a good friendship since we've been here. I hope when I start thinking more concretely about career, partners, and place to serve that Will and I can discuss the possibility of working together.

Greg's here from Bozeman, MT via his church. He's actually an ambassador for his congregation who is looking to partner with some missionaries abroad. He's been traveling by himself to Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Peru for about 4 weeks. He's a philosophy professor at Montana State University and used to work a L'Abri. I've really enjoyed getting to know him so far and I'm sure Meg and I will have some good conversations with him as well.

To all of you who have commented on the blog, thank you, we've really enjoyed getting your thoughts and feedback. Actually, I would say that you made our day yesterday with your humor, encouragement, and scholarly/technical efforts (Tim and Mom).

Spanish word of the day: El agua! The word that our taxi drive exclaimed as his favorite drink to keep him awake as he works late hours seven days a week. Also, the word for the stuff that we can't drink out of the tap because our digestive systems can't handle the bits of bacteria coming through the faucet.

Leshmaniasis

(picture of the clinic and the grassy waiting room)

Yesterday I saw my second case of cutaneous Leshmaniasis. The young lady's disease that I saw yesterday was much more progressed than the first case. Her nose was pointed at the end like a witch's from the destruction of her skin by the protozoan parasite. She had a scar from a previous ulcer that had manifested about 20 years ago. This type of dormancy is characteristic of leshmaniasis. The woman was Quechua and didn't know any Spanish so there were three languages being translated in one 4x11 foot room. (Quechua is viewed in Peru as a poor person's language and was the language once spoken by the Incans.) In fact, this lady is a really good example of how La Fuente (Dr. Allen's clinic) is trying to serve and bring wellness back to the whole person, not just the biological part. So last night the nurses took her home with them and gave her food and shelter, but we're looking for a temporary home for her here in San Jeronimo while she receives treatment. She lives 5 1/2 hours away-- a four hour walk to the closest bus stop and a 1 1/2 hour ride into town. So there is obviously no way she can get the medications and attention she needs at home. So the mission of the clinic is to give a social, spiritual, physical, and emotional support to those who are the poorest and this poor lady really embodies that need. So remember to pray for this young woman and the clinic who is going to be receiving more patients like her who have no hope, save the kindness of other people and the grace of God.

Spanish word of the day: La Fuente which means "the fountain". This is the name of the clinic that I've been working at and I think it's appropriate because it is a small, beautiful thing that gives refreshment to those who come it.