TUESDAY, JUNE 29, 2010
"Quien quieres masaje?" I shouted across the patio. No sooner had the words left my mouth than 4 boys came running at me, arms outstretched. "Yo! Yo!"
The first to reach my table was a small boy named Oscar, who I figured to be around 4 years old. In my very basic high-school Spanish, I asked him, "Tienes dolor?" - do you hurt? He simply grinned and jumped up on the table ( a 20-year-old narrow black osteopathic table with a duct-tape repair in the middle).
In my massage practice, I usually work on adults, so I'd forgotten just how squirrely a boy could be. But he's just four, I said to myself, so of course he's wiggly. Eventually he settled down enough that I could ask him how old he was. I was shocked to find he was 8 years old. That's the case with many of these boys at Kawaii - early childhood malnutrition has an enormous impact on the boys' growth, and many of them aren't even on the growth charts. Even though they are fed quite well here at Kawaii, by the time many of them get here much of the damage has already been done. It was another in a series of reality checks for me, which just seem to never end here in Peru.
Oscar and I managed to get about 10 minutes of massage in, despite his friends running up to the table, poking him, yanking at his arms and legs, then running away laughing. And I say "massage" meaning, I got my hands on him. There was no routine to follow, no specific techniques to utilize, no similar experience for me to fall back on that could help heal the deep pain and suffering this small boy had already endured. All I could do was turn off my logical, ordered left brain and work straight from my heart. And hope that in those 10 minutes, some of that love and respect would transmit itself through my hands and into Oscar's small and battered body.
As the day flew by, I worked on probably 25 boys. The pushing and shoving settled down, eventually, and we only had one instance of a boy getting pushed to the back of the line too many times. He ran to find Sean, another on our team, and cried and cried until Sean brought him over to my table, the boy Nando insisting that I HAD to work on him. That rarely happens in my normal practice!
I finished my first day in Peru exhausted, overwhelmed, but filled with delight and gratitude to have been given the opportunity to be in this beautiful place, to touch and be touched by such wonderful people, and to learn in a whole new way the power of love.
T.J. (aka Teresita)
SATURDAY, JUNE 26, 2010
For any of you following this blog. Our team arrived back safely in Lima yesterday afternoon. We beat the Friday afternoon absolute gridlock in Lima and made it to our hotel with just enough time to shower and head out to dinner. We were joined by our 2 week, additional volunteers, 9 in total while 3 left from the first week.Only one minor casualty, our new, young friend Hannah Neely fell ill on the bus ride home. As resilient as our bodies are, sometimes they don't always react as we'd like to new environments and especially new foods. Ms. Hannah has a food-borne illness, but she has been such a trooper through it all, and she and her mother Claire are on their way back home, not because she got sick but rather they were only with us for the first week. Hannah is a highschooler that really found her stride with the group in Peru. She was at first shy, which is understandable in a clinic setting in a foreign land, with a strange group of adults. Each day she opened up more and more and was definitely our first week MVP. She spent the week working with the dentist, helping with cleanings, fillings and extractions and she never flinched. Rather she showed empathy toward every single patient that sat in her chair, she held their hands and made a great number of connections, and all of this with barely knowing much spanish. The language she did however speak was love and kindness and that is all you really need on an outreach trip.Each night on our bus rides back from clinics, ranging in distance from 1.5 hours to 20 minutes, Hannah, exhausted from standing on her feet all day, giving 100 percent to each patient and only stopping for lunch, would fall asleep (mouth agape), on her mom's shoulder. It was amazing to see a young lady with such poise and grace, also balance the ability to be strong under the, at times, gory dental care (which I've seen many people become faint helping for just a moment). At the same time she was so delicately receptive, if not vulnerable to her mommy's care. A rarity in deed for most teenagers.
Because Hannah was so tired she was unable to hydrate properly so our Nursing director, Karen Falkenstein hung two bags of IV fluid for her while the rest of us enjoyed a wonderful team dinner. We toasted to Hannah and her mom for all their hard work. She seemed a little better upon return and she even had both the strength and goodwill to write everyone a goodbye note at the airport. She even went as far as to apologize for getting sick which was incredibly sweet. Ultimately Hannah we apologize for not protecting you, and we commit to keeping you well next time.
I know for a fact Ms. Hannah was not the only one this first week whose life was changed. My life changes every time I come back to Perú, and always for the best. It may sound cheesy, but when I lose my humility and focus I find them in the eyes of these children.
For Hannah I offer theses words given to me by my favorite person in the whole world: "Speak your truth and be your truth...create yourself just as you want to be...and acknowledge what good you bring to this world with every ounce of energy you give to your work and your conscientious life, we are very proud of you, all the time"
Thanks to Hannah and all of our first week volunteers for making it so special and successful.
TUESDAY, JUNE 22, 2010
After crawling out of bed, weathering the cold showers (some of us, at least), and feasting on oatmeal and hot cocoa, we are headed back to Chincha for another day of work. Much like yesterday, we will be establishing and operating a medical and dental clinic for the children who attend the school and, time permitting, many members of the community as well.
We’ve piled all the necessary equipment – including two dental chairs, a compressor, and a generator – along with enough medication and vitamins to stock a respectable pharmacy into a van, which is in tow behind us. After an hour and a half ride, we will arrive and immediately begin the unpacking process, converting classrooms into offices, intake, a medications dispensary, and sites for lessons on hand washing and dental care.
Yesterday, we arrived to find two classrooms cleared for our purposes. Within an hour, one was converted into a medical clinic with a pharmacy and six tables of average elementary school height ready for patient examinations. The other room became the dental suite as well as the working site of TJ, a fellow volunteer and massage therapist. For the next six hours, she would doggedly pursue and kneed the tense knots of the elementary and high school teachers, encouraging relaxation in spite of the extractions and fillings being performed all around her. (Adding to the atmosphere, a trigonometry lesson remained scrawled on the blackboard – no doubt creating odd associations for some of the students passing through.)
A DAY IN THE CHINCHA CLINIC (VIDEO)
I worked outside at the intake desk, gathering names and vitals for each of the roughly 200 patients that we saw. It felt great to be able to make use of my Spanish. However, in no time at all, mumbling children and unfamiliar names proved a challenge, especially without a clear knowledge of the pronunciation of the alphabet.
Other general assistants worked in various capacities, filling prescriptions and ferrying groups of people through the sometimes chaotic school yard. Augusta, a veteran HBI volunteer and retired elementary school teacher lead children in lessons on basic sanitation. All told, despite a few frenetic moments, the day went quite smoothly. We were even done earlier than expected, which, Wayne was quick to declare, is nearly unheard of.
As for today, we shall see. There is a potentially unlimited number of patients at each of the four schools we will visit in the area – the amount that we see being determined by our efficiency, the ratio of ill to well children that come through, and ultimately Wayne’s discretion. After all, we have to pack up and return to Camp Kawai by 7:30 PM for dinner or risk rustling the feathers of the gracious kitchen crew that cooks our meals.
Andrew Hallett,
Portland, Oregon
MONDAY, JUNE 21, 2010
It’s five am. The alarm goes off and a couple of us slip on our running shoes. It’s still dark outside, but the air outside is refreshing and there’s something magical about running on an empty beach with waves dimly lit by sodium street lamps. We sweep back around the palm trees across the grass field to our bungalow. The Union Biblica house and grounds where we are staying are beautiful. For a moment, we almost forget the poverty and strife just beyond these walls – the tin-roofed shanties just down the road with no running water. The boys that live in this “house” (“House” being a loose term for a rather large compound of middle-school aged boys who love to dance) are lucky enough to have running water, albeit cold. Part ofthe motivation for this morning’s run was in fact to warm up before we jumped in that cold trickle. We shower up using a version of hoakie-pokie – one limb at a time.
On the way to breakfast we’re greeted by a young boy of about nine. “Buenos Dias”, he shouts as he runs to give us a hug. The boys are so happy here that they don’t even care that they have to get up at 5:30 for breakfast before heading to the public school over 30 minutes away. It’s no surprise, being as they have wonderful mentors who teach them about responsibility, sharing, living together as a community.
They are able to attend school and play on sports teams. They feel like they belong, and they are loved. They are so thankful for this that they never take anything for granted. I think back to the time when I was nine… my mother literally had to rip the covers off of me and pull me out of bed before pushing me off to school. I would whine about the early hour and about my homework, but I didn’t know how lucky I was to have parents who loved me, supported me in my schooling and extracurricular – could afford to do these things for me.
These boys at the Kawai camp are here for varying reasons – some abandoned by families who could not afford to take care of them, some who ran away from abuse situations. Peru has a vast chasm in its social structure, and for those on the less fortunate side of the divide, everyday life is a struggle to find food to feed their families. When you’re a child whose most basic needs of health and sustenance are not met, there is little time and energy for other things such as education, soccer, watching movies – being a kid. Luckily these boys have found a place where they can thrive.
I’m sitting on a bus full of other volunteers as I type this. Doctors, nurses, translators and helpers – we’re all on our way to a primary school of about 1,000 kids a little over an hour and a half away from our Kawai house. We’ll only be there for a day, and we’ll see those children who are sickest and have the most need. From the outside, this may seem like a quick fix. How do you expect to change the life of a small child for the better with a month’s supply of vitamins and a course of antibiotics for whatever infection is ailing them? I will tell you. While we can easily treat the common illnesses that immediately affect these children – colds, parasites, scabies – but the long-term benefits really lie in the education. Education of the parents and teachers about how to avoid these things in the future. Education of the children about proper hygiene and how to brush their teeth. It’s just one visit to the doctor, but maybe now these children and their families are equipped with the
knowledge to help themselves – be involved in their own care and practice what us doctors (and pre-doctors in my case) love to call “preventative medicine.” If we can help one child, maybe even one family, to stay healthy, that is one boy we have saved from a life on the streets. One more boy that Union Biblica does not have to save. Life with Union Biblica is a great one, but if we can keep that family unit intact through our education and health interventions – then we have accomplished something amazing.
So I am going to leave you bloggers with this: The next time you take a warm shower, eat a bowl of ice cream, go to class, fill a prescription under your insurance, or even hug a member of your family – think of those who can’t. This thought is what has inspired me to continue promoting and volunteering with Union Biblica and HBI for the past three years. I am thrilled to be back in Peru with stethoscope in pocket, ready to accomplish something amazing.
Brittany Arnold,
Portland, OR
FRIDAY, JUNE 18, 2010
A packed day in Lima. We started off with a group meeting with the US v Slovenia soccer game on in the background. We were down 2-0 before half so it was much more of a conducive meeting atmosphere. From there we broke as a team. Our 2nd and 3rd volunteers arrived, Connie and Rainer Falkenstein, the wonderful parents of our Nursing Coordinator, Ms. Karen A. Falkenstein. After catching up we got them settled to rest a bit and we spread out over the city. Karen, Bob and Wayne began relocating medications and supplies along with the continue acquisition of necessary supplies to facilitate our campaign.
Daniel and I returned to the city center, just north of the Plaza de Armas in the Rimac region of Lima. We were in search of a portable dental chair. Something sturdy that basically folds up into a suitcase for traveling campaigns. We found ourselves in a similar spot having purchased our dental medications, a craftsman 3000 watt generator and 1.5 hp air compressor (after which I felt especially macho) the previous day in the area of town specifically designated for anything Dental. We were having little luck, and had to settle for a less than compact but very useful chair. We'll most likely see close to +/-120 dental patients per day, which means that dental chair, of two others, will see around 200 patients this trip, well worth the 240 soles or $85.
After purchasing the chair we left it at the store in the confidence of the store keeper that we'd return later with a vehicle that could easily transport the mound of fused metal. We moved on to the Northeast quadrant of Lima, a different world from where we are staying. We went to the home of our Peruvian project manager and lawyer, Daniel Bueno, where we store our supplies post trip. It takes about 2 hours, including a wonderful lunch waiting for us, prepared by his mother. At his house he manages effectively 12-15 large duffel bags full of supplies, medicines, equipment etc. to facilitate our campaigns. It doesn't take long to get all of the bags out and down to the street in a giant, conspicuous jenga like pile of duffels. What takes the most time is acquiring Taxis de confianza, or taxis in the area that we have confidence in. When I say we are in a different world, we are only 25 minutes from our hotel but on the polar opposite of the "have" culture. Don't get me wrong, it is a safe place, with a guide, and the communities support each other in ways we can't understand. Still it is an area of great need. It is never, not an eye opening experience trying to comprehend how people live here. Daniel's family, as I'm sure many others in the area, are like those flowers or trees you see that grow up through the cracks in the sidewalk. They flourish, how or why, because as a family and community "they are their brothers keepers".
THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF OUR LIMA PROJECT DIRECTOR (VIDEO)
Returning to our hotel, after fighting through the ever-growing, impenetrable wall of traffic, we do our best to inventory our supplies and efficiently repack everything for travel. This takes another two hours.
PACKING OUR MEDICINES AND SUPPLIES BEFORE VOLUNTEERS ARRIVE (VIDEO)
At this point in the day, we've completed a normal workday 8am to 4pm. So it is understandable that it is time to recharge, reenergize, recaffinate, refuel, rewhatever you do to prevent the desire to sleep. Wayne and I can usually do this with a run, as caffeine his little to no affect at this point. We reconvene to have dinner with the group at one of the more locally famous broasted chicken restaurants. It is called Don Tito's Pollo a la brasa, but most call it Mario's though we're unsure why. It was called the best Chicken restaurant by Perus most famous Chef Gaston Acurio. We ate at one of Gaston's places the night before, Panchita, or The litte pig, ¡Hay, Qué Rico!
Mario's chicken and french fries easily vies for best on the planet. After demonstrating group-self control on the number of chicken's we consumed we moved on to a homemade ice cream shop close to our hotel.
MARIO'S/DON TITO'S POLLO A LA BRASA (VIDEO)
From there, some volunteers head out for a night cap or a little dancing, while it is back to the computer to check on flights of incoming volunteers, enter receipts in for the day, and trying to slow my brain down so I can sleep. You'd think an 18 hour day would make you exhausted, but the constant motion makes me restless contemplating the next days activities and the steps necessary to complete them. Around 3:30am I drifted off to slumber with an 8am alarm I've set that I feel a little guilty about, but know is necessary as tomorrow will be even longer.
Director of Operations for HBI, Benjamin Grass
I couldn't be more excited for our upcoming adventure outside of Lima and Arequipa, Perú. This is Health Bridges International's largest annual outreach group, and ultimately where the idea for the organization was conceived. Some 16 years agos Wayne and Lee Centrone started collaborating with Uníon Bíblica del Perú and Father Alex Busuttil and the St. Paul Mission. During the two week period we will host 22 North American volunteers, a dozen Peruvian volunteers and other in country partners. Volunteers are coming from Hawaii, Oregon, Wisconsin, Colorado, Washington, New York, Connecticut, and California. This is an inaugural post from myself, Benjamin Grass, the director of Operations for Health Bridges International. I am sitting at the Panama city airport waiting for my connecting flight to Lima and doing my best to avoid a hot dog from the Flying dog food cart. They look curious on their rolling metal racks, sweating for some reason. Being from Wisconsin it is almost pavlovian for me when it comes to sausages, hotdogs, or brats. Unfortunately in the busy airport the drool that ensues makes may fellow travelers uncomfortable. Still, traveling for 24 hours straight, I find it beneficial to my mind, body and soul to stay away from processed foods. The important thing is drinking lots of water, which my bladder ever grateful for after ascending to 40,000 feet and increasing the air pressure. This however helps with travel tip number 2, getting up and stretching whenever possible.
Apparently, the delirium has set in. Hopefully this blog will be an opportunity for our gracious volunteers to connect with friends and family. Stay tuned.
See you all in Lima.
