“Congratulations Tim on your first surgery, you should be proud.” Let’s just say that is not the heartfelt-handshake that I was expecting to receive when I woke up at 6:00 AM this morning ( a new early morning rising record) in Nebaj, Guatemala.Today I was ecstatic to be able to help out with a four part organizational joint effort to diagnose the people of Nebaj with their various ailments and hopefully administer a few minor surgeries as well. Luz (my new found Manhatten-bred, Dominican blooded, social entrepreneurial host) and Honest J were playing the part of translator along with a few more language gap bridgers who arrived with the “Partners in Surgery” medical team. I was tagging along to take the “auxiliary-gopher” or the “uhhh, do you need anything?” role, which I was more than happy to fill.
We all met with the surgeons, translators, and nurses (10 total) for a routine breakfast of eggs, tortillas, pica (hot sauce of freshly diced peppers and cabbage), beans, and instant coffee to go over the game plan for the day. The leader, Frank, is a spunky to-the-point engineer turned socially responsible organization owner from, you’ll never guess, Mclean, Virginia. Mclean, Virginia is literally twenty minutes from my hometown; what a small world…Wait, I promised not to say this all too annoying cliché of a line anymore, it happens way too much.
It’s the first rainy day I have seen in Nebaj, but honestly, it’s nice not to inhale clouds of polvo(heavy dust) on our brisk squinty-eyed walk to the hospital center. Roles are assigned and we begin to mobilize in preparation for the already snaking line around the shattered concrete wall that outlines the border of the ER. I am thrilled to begin my honorary gopher duty of moving boxes to the entrance, but wait. Ahh typical Guatemala, the person with the key no esta aqui nor picking up their pay as you go phone. We play getting to know you for a half-hour longer, the Americans rolling their eyes, the locals goggling with theirs as they are anxious to hear some long lost good news. The key master, who is a petite 12 year old Pocahontas look alike arrives and it is finally go time.
Jimmy rigging laundry line and bed sheet make-shift hospital rooms in a 20x20 ft space is the first order of business. We line up chairs for an all in one multipurpose waiting room, pharmacy, and diagnosis center. My role quickly changes to facilitator and smile-supplier as I streamline locals from the diagnosis center, to inspection room, over to the pharmacy if the children need a shot for their hemoglobin issues, on to the documentation desk, and finally back to the transcribers who will hopefully be able to set a surgery date for the next group of selfless saviors that fill follow in the next months to come.
To make this a real clusterfun of a time, one must remember that some locals speak Ixile, some Quiche (both Myan dialects), and some Spanish. I organize the masses with my Spanish, hand signals, smirks, and winks to ensure that some kind of order is maintained. I peek in on HJ and Luz, amazed by the translation-telephone game they are patiently playing. The stream of information plays out like this: Local quiche patient – Quiche to Spanish translator – HJ/Luz – English speaking doctor and back down the chain. This game is very time consuming but again my Guatemalan mantra reigns true; "It works."
I look outside the door and see the line clumping up around the door, growing with tired possiblepatients. A shrouded four foot nothing Mother is lifting her son above her head just like Rafiki did with baby Simba in Lion King, but this was no Pride Rock. The son had fourth degree burns along his neck that made it look as though he had gills hanging down from below his chin.
We later found out someone accidentally threw gasoline on him…for no apparent reason. The Mother, with so much hurt in her eyes for her son’s defamed face must also wait in the line, and unfortunately will not be able to receive any help by these doctors; I don't have the heart to tell her. The grim reality of the indigenous mountain dwellers' "circle of life" is not the simple, smiling and communal way of living I have seen in some of the local homes, this is raw reality. I glance to my left and notice two twin boys with cleft lips who have the biggest smiles in the room as they play peek-a-boo behind the chair they are sharing. We won’t be able to de-cleftify today, but will diagnose and set up an appointment for next month’s lip remastering team. A 16 year old girl is experiencing some gyno’ issues that turns out to be….surprise, a one month year old fetus inside her! The husband is called to share the glorious news…but there is no answer from the future father.
After the morning rush, the medical team prioritizes their prognoses, schedule four minor surgeries for the afternoon session and ask for my help. Three of the surgeries are smaller incisions to remove bumps and extra flesh appendages. I volunteered to assist with the over-sized golf ball of a sebaceous assist on one of the farmers' bellies. This thing was massive and we had five people surrounding the dazed and confused Guatemalan. The surgery team assembles and consists of the Mayan translator, Spanish to English translator, the American surgeon, his Nebajan surgical protégé for the day, and your favorite gringo on flashlight duty.
The surgery took about an hour, the surgeon meticulously schooling his Latin understudy how to stitch up the empty holethat the lemon-sized assist had left. I could not lift my gaze from the sebaceous abyss that was oozing blood constantly to the beat of the patient's heartbeat. Back in the States I would only be able to participate in this opportunity if I was in med-school, but in barely third world Nebaj, all help is welcomed with open arms. The med assistant (also a farmer in town as his day job) kept his cool and eight stitches later, we gave a round of applause and high fives all around for a successful surgery. The freshly sutured Guatemalan asked if he could go back to work for the rest of the day.
I must take this moment to give my absolutely praiseworthy props and appreciation to all the parties involved who freely donated their blood, sweat, and smiles into today’s project for the sole purpose of doing good. You see, one of the major complaints that is a real blow below the belt to many NGO employees/Peacies is the fact that there is often a detrimental lack of communication between all of these eager groups trying to help the same folks. For example, the downtrodden Nebajnite might have three different meetings scheduled on the same day from three different organizations. One party might be attempting to teach how to grow corn faster and healthier using natural worm fertilizer, one giving a workshop on why the farmer should use slash and burn techniques to diversify their crops in anticipation for a higher yield, and the last group might explain to the overwhelmed farmer that he should give up on corn for profit and
participate in a micro-lending model where he can begin selling sustainable appliances around town and in the bigger cities. It is ironic and a bit counter-intuitive, but the organizations begin to compete with one-another and the larger goal begins to become eclipsed by ego and one-track thinking methodologies of the Institutions. This sporadic pressure from different directions leaves the Mayan man confused, demotivated, and pessimistic towards any hope of progress.
After taking an exact mental snapshot in time of what was happening in that surgery room, a framed feeling of hope filled the room, and realized that progress is right here, right now, in front of my face. Five different languages, four organizations, local volunteers, and a few speckled gringos from the Northern America were joining forces to make a positive and tangible change in the community. The volunteers were paid only in the instant gratification of seeing the locals become healthier and happier; which I think we all can use a little of in life to keep us motivated.
I’ll tell you what, holding the LED light over that gracious
Guatemalan turned on an even brighter bulb in my head. If we can copy and paste this model of selfless and organized help, the possibilities for measurable and exponential successful projects can be repeated around the world on an even larger scale. We prioritize issues, pick the most important and applicable concern for a group of people, keep it simple, stick with one approach and allocate the help of various groups to follow through with the plan. Easier said than done, I know, but I have seen today that with focused thought and ego absent teamwork, we can make a universal change for the better, a reality.
