Sunday, May 12, 2013

Escenarios

Scenes and shrines, enactments, collections, worlds within worlds. I won't hazard the metaphysics that underwrite Mexico's beautiful profusion, but I love it. Here are some local examples. 
Good Friday. Many of the homes had these
altars outside on the sidewalk or street.
Pine needles carpeting the ground: this is
common in churches and homes here; it's
a Mayan practice.
This man was greeting everyone with
a blessing.
Good Friday: you knew it would end this way....
On the Saturday between
Good Friday and Easter, churches will hang
and then blow up/burn  effigies of Judas. This is
a political Judas effigy, made for a contest.
Another of the political Judases displayed in
the town center. The ass is Peña Nieto; the
woman is the head of the teacher's union. (?)

When we were packing up to come here, several people mentioned (hope audible in their voices) that when we come back, we might not want to re-cram certain areas of our house (the mantel, e.g.) with so many objects (statues, medals, pictures, images, animals, toys -- all the weird little things we've picked up everywhere over the years). Perhaps we'd want to go minimal, contemporary...?

Well, I doubt it. I feel less modern than ever after our time here. And the aesthetic is not conducive. It isn't simple, spare, clean, lean, or remotely Scandinavian. It's ridiculous--in the best sense of the word. 
A taxista's dashboard. 
In the hospital's maternity ward.
In a different clinic: Dr. Baby Jesus and his toys.
In a shop window: lucha libre masks. 
In one of Don Sergio's patient's homes. I like the
way the TV is integrated.
A view of same, sans TV.
Another patient's home.
Shelf in a restaurant.
Shelf 2.
A bigger shelf, this one in el Cañon del Sumidero. Sean
took this photo from the tour boat. The guide would have
you note that the mineral-caused colors in this grotto are
 Mexico's and La Virgencita's colors: green, red, and white.
(I know: it's subtle. Gotta use the old imagination.)
The fair! Because, por favor, we desperately need more
light, color, and sound in these parts!

Oscar's friend Ricardo is a love bug, like Oscar is. At the fair
he spent his own money on one of these birds, then came
back and bought him/her a friend the next day. 
And besides the riot, some quiet.

Two little boys from next door shoved this
pajarito under the door to our house. (Ouch.)
They said it came from our garden into
their house and we should take care of
it and NOT let our cats eat it. We created
a little sanctuary on the upstairs patio.
We think it figured out the flying thing
and flew away; anyway, it was gone
after one day; so fast!

Wilhelmina at the rim of the  Sima de las Cotorras,  a
massive hole--deep and steep, no way to go down in there--
with puro jungle at the bottom. Thousands of small
green parrots live there. At dawn and dusk you can see them
spiraling in and out of their sanctuary. They are flying
away to middle school, high school...away away. So fast!

 


Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Don Sergio Castro: an indefatigable caregiver

Every Monday since October, I've wished I had the energy of Don Sergio Castro, my polymathic 73 year-old companion. For over 50 years, he's helped those in need in Chiapas, Mexico almost every day of every week -- for free. He started by treating and vaccinating animals in the Lacandon jungle (his education is in agriculture and animal husbandry), moved to creating clean water systems and schools (25+ so far), and now lives in our small city in Chiapas, where he treats burns and wounds (while still helping communities with water and school building needs, as funding allows). 

One of Don Sergio's many grateful patients.

I drive Don Sergio in our van on his housecalls to patients around--and up to 30 minutes away from--the city. He never charges anyone for his treatments (and won't even accept a handful of pesos when offered) because he believes that if you charge patients, they won't heal well. He has said, "You shouldn't make money from people's suffering." He sees evidence that the spirit with which he approaches his work really does matter, and I've heard this backed up by a number of patients who are refugees from the local hospital where they feel they are treated poorly, don't receive follow-up care and end up with post-operative infections, etc.  In thanks, some patients will give him bottles of Coke, a bag of fruits and vegetables, or a stack of tortillas. This philosophy means his patients are eternally grateful and that he often runs short of medical supplies. 

Don Sergio's daily work rhythm involves roughly 12 hour days from 8am-8pm in which he tends to as many as 25 patients. He usually treats 4-5 patients in his clinic in the morning before leaving to go on house calls, after which he breaks for a meal at home with his family. After returning to his clinic mid-afternoon, another 10-12 patients will drop in, as well as occasional tourist or student groups who want a tour of his museum. (These tours are also often interrupted by patients who drop by his clinic.) Sometimes the tour groups donate to support his healthcare work, but there are many fewer visitors than in previous years (that is, prior to the swine flu epidemic, drug wars, and economic downturn). 

Throughout his long work days, Don Sergio displays a never-ending desire to protect others and a lack of patience with those who threaten others' safety.  He never fails to warn me about looming low doorways or traffic hazards (blind turns, potholes)---both of which are ubiquitous in Mexico. So far I've emerged unscathed except for the time I scraped the side of our car on a telephone pole last week. Some of the rare times I've seen Don Sergio show his impatience has been with cars and pedestrians who get in our way while we're driving between housecalls. "Apurate!" he'll say, slapping the side of our car door. How dare that pinche guy slow us down...! Then we'll arrive at patients' homes, and he is calling people "linda" and "mama" and saying, "don't worry, there's no rush."
this man most likely has a relative who needs Don Sergio's help

Kirstin and I first met Don Sergio on one of our earlier visits to San Cristobal, as we toured his museum/collection of indigenous clothing. The clothing came to him over many years, as gifts from past patients; the little museum now serves as a small source of support for his healthcare projects. His tour was fascinating and full of insights into the relationships between our indigenous Mayan neighbors and the more contemporary Mexican culture. During it all he demonstrated some of the different Mayan languages (he speaks 5) and amazingly he can give the tour in Spanish, English, French or Italian -- you pick. He is a linguistic genius, having picked up these languages completely on his own.

When we moved on to the last room in his museum, we saw documentation of the burn and wound care he's provided for many decades. (He doesn't mention it at all during his presentations of the clothing.) That is when we realized why Don Sergio is such a saintly character for the many injured poor around San Cristobal.  There is a wealth of photographic evidence of his seemingly miraculous treatments of burns and wounds he effects with his painstaking wound care -- injuries that require many visits each week for weeks to months (up to 1/2 year for the most injured) in their homes or his clinic. Often the hospitals will suggest amputation for injuries he can fix, but only with much more time and care than they're willing to offer. He is a creative and indefatigable caregiver who often has to cope with malnourished, diabetic patients with his often-short supply of creams, bandages and latex gloves. (I've worked with him on days when he has to reuse his last pair of gloves with several patients, cleaning them with alcohol or other sanitizer in between visits.) The patients live in challenging conditions, even if they are healthy, but know a real caregiver when they meet him....

Many of Don Sergio's patients are burn victims, their injuries a result of fireworks, industrial electrical accidents in home businesses, and cooking fires in and outside the home. There are additional dangers caused by epilepsy, which here is sometimes caused by infected pork. (In fact, this is a frequent cause of the burns: seizures cause people to fall into their cooking fires.) And of course, many accidents could be prevented, if only there were better safety measures. (Just the other day, Don Sergio pointed out a young guy doing some welding, his ladder leaning a few feet away from a live electricity wire....)

       This family was mourning the impending loss of a sweet, sweet man who lived in this simple house 
       with his family. He had untreated tumor on his leg, that Don Sergio re-dressed every week for months.

Recently, we have been seeing more wounds from pressure ulcers and poor post-surgical wound care at the local hospital -- as well as the increasing number of diabetic infections which are so slow to heal. And there are the usual motorcycle accidents, machete goof-ups,  and (even) infected cat scratches.

 a mechanic who was diabetic and wasn't healing well until Don Sergio 
impressed upon him the importance of taking medications to control his blood sugar

Don Sergio's support is worldwide, though not constant. Among his many supporters are an American woman who now lives in San Miguel de Allende and helps in many ways; a physician's assistant in Tucson, AZ, who works with him every year (and also created his website and sends supplies); film makers who created the wonderful documentary, El Andalon, and many other individuals who bring supplies when they can. (Our friends and family have kindly "sponsored" and ferried supplies, and recently I met a Frenchman who I met who visits every year...and I know there are many people who have been inspired, as we have been, to support Don Sergio's work here in Chiapas.)  If you're interested in more information or would like to order the fascinating video about him, look below.
  












  

a clean water project he's producing for an indigenous community with donations from a Rotary Club in Washington State


His website with links to El Andalon:   http://www.yokchij.org/  
A blog from a medical perspective:       http://sergiocastrosc.blogspot.mx

Some short videos:


With the help of some American volunteers and filmmakers he even has some Facebook representation:












The simple outside and charming inside of his museo and clinic.


Saturday, April 13, 2013

Keepin' it real (small)

Time is going so fast. We four have been talking about what we want to do in our last few months here...that list is long and (to me) a little overwhelming.

Of course, part of the problem is that we really love it here. It's hard to think about leaving.

Tonight Sean told me, in so many words, to relax.

Tranquila.

So for the moment, I'm keeping it real small.

Wilhelmina and I are at a coffee shop now.

We just encountered this intriguing piece
of pasta in the street on the walk here.
It reminds me that soon we will have to
pack up our red van and regresa to the EUA!
Tranquila...tranquila.
Also noted on the walk to the coffee shop:
one of our many friendly vecinos. We feel
like we've gotten to know so many warm
and wonderful people. And dogs. 
This coffee shop makes the best freaking
milkshakes ever.
Mejores malteados del mundo entero.


Monday, February 25, 2013

Hiking and Marching

Two weekends ago when Kara and Joshua were here, we went on a wonderful hike. We began in a park just outside of town (we took a taxi there), then hiked along the river, went up and over a mountain, through a village, and finally dropped into another little park. A few times we weren't completely sure where we were or should go, but as Wilhelmina pointed out, that made it more fun. (And this is a fairly densely populated area, so once we just followed the sounds to find some kids who were out cutting wood -- yes, wood-cutting children, as in a fairy tale -- for directions.)















(More scenes from a terrific bromance.)
Joshua and Oscar slept outside on the
upstairs patio.

The boys chilled at one of our favorite restaurants.

The boys slept inside one night. (Exhausted!)

 (And think: Oscar and Joshua have been friends since they were in the infant room at daycare. They're "golden friends" as Wilhelmina might say, after this:

Make new friends,
But keep the old,
One is silver,
But the other is gold.

It was a great visit.)

The week following that hike was filled with marching. Both kids participated in escolta competitions with their classmates. Escolta is like color guard (not that I know what that is, either, come to think of it) -- the idea is that the kids march in perfect formation  following the shouted orders of their comandantes.  One person holds the flag; everyone is very neatly dressed in matching outfits, military-lite. They do a series of complicated turns and formations; it's very impressive! Oscar tells us that in part, escolta is done to honor the Niños Heroes.

Practicing.

Posing.


W's escolta practicing...

...and about to start their competition. 

Before, nervous...!

After, relieved.

Here's Wilhelmina's escolta in action at the competition. Lore was the comandante (the person shouting the orders) and was perfect.


Sunday, February 17, 2013

Hecho en Mexico

The other day at dinner Oscar offered that his school day had been great.
"What was so great about it?"
"We played hand dogs."

Hand dog with salad.

Hand dogs, it turns out, is more or less what is sounds like: you pretend that your hand is a dog; your friends do likewise. You walk your fingers around on the ground and talk about the incredible things your hand dog can do. (Hand dogs always have super powers, it seems.) I assume there's some dog fighting involved, possibly with dog teams?

One of the great things about being here is that the kids have come up with really interesting ways of amusing themselves. Hand dogs are just the start. Here are a few things the kids have made in Mexico.
Soaps! Cinnamon, apple, and orange.
Hecho por Wilhelmina.

Oscar blew some eggs and started making
people. This is the first one, Eggy. Eggy
has a recliner, a tv, and a bowl of popcorn
(a bottle cap filled with white paper confetti). 
Wilhelmina's terrarium, made from a
cake case.

The kids started these scarves at school
and finished them at home.

Wilhelmina's elaborate valentine.

The morning of the day my book was officially released, the kids surprised me with some wonderful things (besides coffee).









Not shown: Oscar's volcano and his army base; Wilhelmina's dress book and scrap book; Candle City (area in the back of the house where plastic soldiers and candles commingle in a messy, melty martial paradise); the Room of Requirement (a tiny room with a separate entrance, meant for a servant, that the kids have turned into an all-purpose secret clubhouse).

The kids watch a lot of TV, spend a lot of time on the computer (so do Sean and I)...and they also do some very cool things, here.