Seth Kinast’s Blog

I am sitting and waiting for an Ubuntu LiveCD to finish doing its wubbly thing. I was working on a system that was so trashed Windows wouldn’t even reinstall, so my only option was to reimage the thing. Ubuntu to the rescue to copy all of the girl’s music and documents off of her computer before I reimage

We had to be ready to leave at 6 that morning. Johnny thought it was about a three-hour drive from Mexico City to Chapultapec, where we were going. After a slightly late start (Dr Noé’s brother and sister-in-law, who was a nurse, showed up late), we were off, in a 12-passenger van that was chock-full of medical supplies. The highways were pretty good, and soon I saw mountains. We stopped after about 2 and a half hours. Not bad at all! Oh wait, this was just for breakfast. Not being a morning person, I don’t enjoy breakfast usually, so I got a 1.5-liter water bottle to last me while we were up in the mountains, and watched the others eat.

Back into the van for another 4 hours. We climbed, climbed, climbed, on roads that were sometimes no wider than the van. I would look out the window— oh, hello 1000-foot drop inches away from the van’s tires, you look quite nice— and look back. We narrowly avoided several goats. The goats were laughing at us as we creaked by, inching up the incline. But all was well, and we got into the mountain village around noon. We were so high that we were actually IN the clouds, which was pretty cool. We set up the clinic in the three rooms of a house there in the center of the village. In the first room, the nurse gave vitamin shots. In the second, the people talked to Dr. Noé about their symptoms, and in the third we set up a tiny pharmacy of sorts. This village was so remote that even ibuprofen was a miracle. I would say 90% of what we gave out was either ibuprofen, cough syrup, or vitamins.

I got to give my first shot! Mexicans, however, don’t like shots in the arm… they prefer them in the rear. So what would normally be a 1 1/4″ needle embedded 1/4″ into the arm, ends up having all 1 1/4″ of it shoved into the backside. Fun stuff, but Mexicans are tough! Nobody made a sound. For proper… placement… of the needle, you must hold it like a dart, and practically toss it into the… target area. It doesn’t look fun. But it was fun to do

During a lull, I went to the van and got out a bag I had brought. In it were about 3 dozen of those miniature Beanie Babies that McDonalds gave out in Happy Meals awhile back. Mom had picked them up at a garage sale or something. When I brought them out, you would’ve thought I was better than the doctor. Kids were jostling in line to be the first to pick one of the colorful toys. We had to keep saying solamente una— only one— because they wanted them all. It was pretty touching.

We ran the clinic from 1 to about 9. I was feeling really tired and a little shaky by that time, but figured it was fatigue and the altitude. Little did I know.

Read the rest of this thought »

Three weeks later, I can finally sit down, catch my breath, and write about my experiences. There’s a lot more to say about Mexico than of Florida, so this and subsequent entries will largely be related to my time south of the Border.

Wednesday, June 22

We got home from the airport in Kansas City about 8 p.m. (from Florida). We had an hour and a half to repack, freshen up, and drive to Oklahoma City, where we were spending the night, before taking a flight at 10 that morning. In all the hubbub, I forget my camera, meh… a pretty bad move. But since I didn’t remember until we arrived in Mexico, there was nothing to be done. I met Kristen’s friend, Miriam, for the first time (Nate had met her while I was at OU). She was nice, but shy— very quiet. We arrived at the hotel around 1:30 a.m.

Thursday, June 23

Fernando, the house dad at the orphanage where we would stay (called Agape), was there to meet us… along with a dozen of the kids from the orphanage. They ranged from 18 or 19 down to Lalo, who was just 10. We went through immigration fairly uneventfully (except for Miriam’s clerk yelling at her when she didn’t understand) and all the kids helped us take our luggage to an elevator. A big, big elevator… big enough to hold at least a dozen people. By American standards. The Mexicans happily stuffed 19 people and their luggage into the elevator. The first, but definitely not the last, time that Mrs. Ducommun would use the term “sardines”.

It took about an hour to drive to the orphanage. Our 12-passenger van still had 19 people in it. Five kids in a three-person seat, kids on the floor, kids up front on the console. Mexicans surely utilize available space well. We arrived around 8 or 9 in the evening, and Marta, Fernando’s wife, was waiting. Her kids fired up the stove and made quesadillas (which were simply corn tortillas with a bit of cheese inside, and guacamole or salsa for sauces), and offered us milk.

Because there’e very little refrigeration in Mexico, milk is ultra-pasteurized and comes in boxes. It’s served room-temperature, or hot; never cold.

A guy came in excitedly: “Hey, how are you guys doing, where are you from, I’m Johnny!” His English was really good, and I told him so. But, that was because he was from Ohio; he was the American intern working with Agape this summer. It was good to have someone who spoke English; the kids spoke varying degrees of Spanglish and although I can understand a lot of Spanish (because it’s so similar to French), my ability to speak it is minimal.

Nate and I got our own room that was positively palatial. We had real beds with sheets, and a toilet, and a shower. Sam, Mexicans one-up you: they sew ALL their sheets to the bed. The effect is similar to slipping into a body bag, but hey, you don’t toss your covers off in the night. The toilet was hooked up to the septic system, which meant that flushing paper was a no-no. A plastic bag was thoughtfully provided. The toilet was dry, so for the first five days we just didn’t flush it :/ later Nate got a cup and filled the back so it would flush. The shower didn’t have much water pressure, so it was more of a dribble than a shower. But it was warm, usually, so that’s all you can ask for. We went to bed that night, but late… and then realized there were no pillows. We made do with blankets rolled up.

Read the rest of this thought »