Day 58-60 La Paz meaning; the peace, the alone
For third time we arrived back in the city in the sky. This time we left the airport for long enough to explore. The unofficial capital of Bolivia La Paz is sprawled across valleys. At its highest it is 4200m above sea level.
We spent much of our time wandering the Witches' Market -comprised of many stalls offering all sorts of local flora and fauna as the cure to this, the answer to that and prosperity for it. By far the wildest sold good was llama fetuses (feti? lol) No joke...llama fetuses hung from every stall along the cobbled street. It was frightening! Apparently if burnt as an offering it will ensure the success of even the greatest of pursuits. The stalls were laden with carved idols of every shape and size. The whole thing gave me the creeps! We quickly made our way to the touristy souvenir end of the market. Great shopping!
The other highlights of La Paz sight-seeing are the attractions that are the residue of the cocaine industry. Tiff and I steered clear of these dodgy tourist hang outs. San Pedro prison teeming with those unlucky enough to have been caught on the wrong side of the fight against drugs is the curiosity of every touring gringo. Tours run illegally through the prison at a price that pleases the corrupt guards. It is notoriously dangerous and consequently a tour well sort after. Tiff and I were lucky (or unlucky) enough to come face to face with a San Pedro celebrity Crackhead Mike. A well known tour guide and washed up crack dealer from the states who offers a way into San Pedro. We had stumbled upon the prison and were heading in the opposite direction when we were approached by an unkempt, unshaven, shoeless character who with a toothy grin "Hey ladies! Looking to get inside?" Eeek! We were shocked! Ha let me see an illegal tour through a prison with an "ex"-drugdealer looking to make a buck in a country notoriously ruthless against gringos and drugs. Tough decision? HELL NO! "Well you can find me here ladies and I be happy to get YOU in." Wink wink! Needless to say we made a brisk exit.
Route 36 is a nightclub well-frequented by gringos. A contradiction in a country tough on drug crime its dirty drawcard- cocaine is part of the regular menu between the entrees and mains. Law enforcement turns a blind-eye for a good price. Beer and a line please?
Ninas in traditional costume
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
No Gracias
Cuzco
After an overnight stay in the heighty city of La Paz we were on our way to Cuzco, Peru. The flight was spectacular. We soared over snowcapped mountain ranges that reached up breaking through the clouded ceiling. I held my breath as the plane changed course certain that the wing would skim a mountain peak. Cold icy caps gave way to plunging green valleys. A still cool lake pooled in one of the valleys.
On arrival at the hostel in Cuzco we were greeted with a warm cup of coca tea- ´for the altitude´. Our time in Cochabamba had given us the opportunity to acclimatise but the warmth of the cup in our chilly hands was reason enough to accept the tea gratefully.
Reunion with our friends from uni lead to much storytelling and excited planning. We made our way to Cuzco´s favourite gringo cafe ´Jack´s´. Any tourist who has made their way through the cobbled streets of Cuzco will point you in the direction of ´Jack´s´ for the best cup of coffee in South America. And it was!
Cuzco is a city at conflict with itself. While at first glance its streets appear like the cobbled streets of old world Europe, its city square hemmed by terraces and grand cathedral, down the tiny side streets cracks can be seen in the spanish facade. Evidence of this once great Incan empire bleeds through. Cuzco is littered with tourists. Every corner you turn you narrowly miss bumping into a fellow backpack burdened tourist. They pollute the city streets.
The entrepreneral locals are quick to take advantage of the impressionalable gringos. A vendor waits on every corner with an offer better than the rest. ´Lady, lady! Raybans for just $1 sole! Lady! Look here Lady!´ A sucker for such an incredible, almost unbelievable bargain you get caught in this cleverly spun web. ´Ah lady the case is $1 sole, the Raybans good deal of $70 sole. You want buy lady?´ Suddenly you are surrounded by vendors selling silver, scarfs, paintings, wood carvings, beanies, socks, snacks! You are drowning in a sea of best deals and hard sell vendors- they ain´t guna let this sucker get away. Then suddenly like a magic trick ´Abra Kadabra!´ they are all gone. The arrival of a frowning policeman can be thanked for you escape.
And this is how Cuzco lives and breaths vendors lurking here and there and everywhere, tourists shops and restaurants teeming with gringos, travel agents do a roaring trade and locals pretend to be locals dressing up in traditional dress of days gone by and dragging photogenic llamas along the cobbled streets stopping tourists ´photo with llama lady?´
All that aside Cuzco is an exciting place to visit full of great places to eat, shop and where fake cultural experiences can be had. Armed with the term ´no gracias´you can navigate your way out of most vendor mobs with ease. In fact bargaining with the street vendors can be an experience in itself and a bit of fun. The cobbled alleyways are enchanting and the sight of familiar faces are welcomed after a long time in tourist-free Cochabamba. We enjoyed exploring Cuzco in the days before and after Inca Trail.
During our time here we decided to brave it and taste the Peruvian delicacy of Cuy - Guinea pig. It was truly awful! Very bony with little meat (Surprise surprise!) and what there was of it was smokey distinctly pet-like. Yuck! They brought out whoe charred and grinning bearing its tiny guinea teeth. I even thought I may have heard it squeak!
We also made it to our first South American soccer game. It was very exciting! There were police everywhere armed with riot shields and guns AND trust me the enthusiastic crowd warranted it! The supporters, a group of eager fans who have an unhealthy portion of love for their team get into the game for free. They provide their beloved team with exhaustively consistent cheering and chanting and are reknowned for being particularly dangerous. They beat drums and blow trumpets and chant and jump and swing their ´red and white´shirts over their heads in a animated warrior-like display. This goes on for the whole game. Such passion is fascinating to see. Bottles are not allowed in the stadium in case emotive supporters become particularly enthused and get a little violent. However, flares are common place. Little makes sense in South America.
Halloween is a big event in Cuzco, Peru. This october 31st the tricker treaters were out in force. Every child under the age of 12 was packed into the square walking door to door with mini cauldrons overflowing with sugary treats in hand. The costumes were amazing! No frills spared for these minature princesses, harry potters, and spidermans. My favourite was 5 year old unhappy duck who pulled at his feathers and wailed instead of quacked.
Unfortunately, this halloween night was also when Tiff and I finally succumbed to food poisioning. With one swift blow it took both Tiff and I out they day before Inca trail. Brilliant!
During our time in Cuzco we submitted our final paperwork to the university! I have finally finished! I cant believe it. Strangely it doesnt quite feel real yet. The six years seemed to drag by at times but now it is over I can´t believe how fast it has gone by. I haven´t celebrated yet- there is plenty of time for that at home with the people I owe it too.
After an overnight stay in the heighty city of La Paz we were on our way to Cuzco, Peru. The flight was spectacular. We soared over snowcapped mountain ranges that reached up breaking through the clouded ceiling. I held my breath as the plane changed course certain that the wing would skim a mountain peak. Cold icy caps gave way to plunging green valleys. A still cool lake pooled in one of the valleys.
On arrival at the hostel in Cuzco we were greeted with a warm cup of coca tea- ´for the altitude´. Our time in Cochabamba had given us the opportunity to acclimatise but the warmth of the cup in our chilly hands was reason enough to accept the tea gratefully.
Reunion with our friends from uni lead to much storytelling and excited planning. We made our way to Cuzco´s favourite gringo cafe ´Jack´s´. Any tourist who has made their way through the cobbled streets of Cuzco will point you in the direction of ´Jack´s´ for the best cup of coffee in South America. And it was!
Cuzco is a city at conflict with itself. While at first glance its streets appear like the cobbled streets of old world Europe, its city square hemmed by terraces and grand cathedral, down the tiny side streets cracks can be seen in the spanish facade. Evidence of this once great Incan empire bleeds through. Cuzco is littered with tourists. Every corner you turn you narrowly miss bumping into a fellow backpack burdened tourist. They pollute the city streets.
The entrepreneral locals are quick to take advantage of the impressionalable gringos. A vendor waits on every corner with an offer better than the rest. ´Lady, lady! Raybans for just $1 sole! Lady! Look here Lady!´ A sucker for such an incredible, almost unbelievable bargain you get caught in this cleverly spun web. ´Ah lady the case is $1 sole, the Raybans good deal of $70 sole. You want buy lady?´ Suddenly you are surrounded by vendors selling silver, scarfs, paintings, wood carvings, beanies, socks, snacks! You are drowning in a sea of best deals and hard sell vendors- they ain´t guna let this sucker get away. Then suddenly like a magic trick ´Abra Kadabra!´ they are all gone. The arrival of a frowning policeman can be thanked for you escape.
And this is how Cuzco lives and breaths vendors lurking here and there and everywhere, tourists shops and restaurants teeming with gringos, travel agents do a roaring trade and locals pretend to be locals dressing up in traditional dress of days gone by and dragging photogenic llamas along the cobbled streets stopping tourists ´photo with llama lady?´
All that aside Cuzco is an exciting place to visit full of great places to eat, shop and where fake cultural experiences can be had. Armed with the term ´no gracias´you can navigate your way out of most vendor mobs with ease. In fact bargaining with the street vendors can be an experience in itself and a bit of fun. The cobbled alleyways are enchanting and the sight of familiar faces are welcomed after a long time in tourist-free Cochabamba. We enjoyed exploring Cuzco in the days before and after Inca Trail.
During our time here we decided to brave it and taste the Peruvian delicacy of Cuy - Guinea pig. It was truly awful! Very bony with little meat (Surprise surprise!) and what there was of it was smokey distinctly pet-like. Yuck! They brought out whoe charred and grinning bearing its tiny guinea teeth. I even thought I may have heard it squeak!
We also made it to our first South American soccer game. It was very exciting! There were police everywhere armed with riot shields and guns AND trust me the enthusiastic crowd warranted it! The supporters, a group of eager fans who have an unhealthy portion of love for their team get into the game for free. They provide their beloved team with exhaustively consistent cheering and chanting and are reknowned for being particularly dangerous. They beat drums and blow trumpets and chant and jump and swing their ´red and white´shirts over their heads in a animated warrior-like display. This goes on for the whole game. Such passion is fascinating to see. Bottles are not allowed in the stadium in case emotive supporters become particularly enthused and get a little violent. However, flares are common place. Little makes sense in South America.
Halloween is a big event in Cuzco, Peru. This october 31st the tricker treaters were out in force. Every child under the age of 12 was packed into the square walking door to door with mini cauldrons overflowing with sugary treats in hand. The costumes were amazing! No frills spared for these minature princesses, harry potters, and spidermans. My favourite was 5 year old unhappy duck who pulled at his feathers and wailed instead of quacked.
Unfortunately, this halloween night was also when Tiff and I finally succumbed to food poisioning. With one swift blow it took both Tiff and I out they day before Inca trail. Brilliant!
During our time in Cuzco we submitted our final paperwork to the university! I have finally finished! I cant believe it. Strangely it doesnt quite feel real yet. The six years seemed to drag by at times but now it is over I can´t believe how fast it has gone by. I haven´t celebrated yet- there is plenty of time for that at home with the people I owe it too.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Sunny Santa Cruz
Day 42-47 - Sunny Santa Cruz
Situated in the lowlands Santa Cruz is the cosmopolitian, tropical oasis of the impoverished country of Bolivia. Trade out dusty cold cities, poverty and beanies for a warm sun, cool breeze, jewelry stores on every corner and a pair of thongs. Although landlocked this city has the feel of a glitzy beach metropolis with a third world touch. Beauty pageants are a huge part of the culture here. Everyone in Santa Cruz seems to be competing in their own beauty comp...anything that can be fake is...I have never seen so many plastered noses in one place! The plunging necklines and soaring hemlines are a sharp contrast to the modest attire of the people in the altiplano (high regions such as Cochabamba).
Santa Cruz is a city struggling to prove itself. Painfully striving to be more like Brazil than to betray its origins in Bolivia. The story of Mr Bolivia perfectly portrays Santa Cruzś insecurities. A young man from Nebraska his only claim to Bolivia- his untimely delivery in Santa Cruz 20 years earlier decided to later travel to his birthplace to discover his "homelands" culture and customs. The ever alert beauty pagents spotters recruited this young Nebraskan luring him into the competition as just a bit of fun. Representing Bolivia this white, blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy spoke not a word of spanish. When he proceeded to win the competition the country was outraged. They had been betrayed by Santa Cruz. Selfishly seeking its ideal Santa Cruz had crowned the all-American boy Mr Bolivia. A recent Miss Bolvia further reinforced this ideal when at world competition she relayed to television cameras and spectators " In Bolivia, everyone is tall, blonde, speaks english and watches friends." An unlikely story. Needless to say this comment was not met with pride on behalf of the people of Bolivia. Hence, a little rivalry stands between the indigenous pride of the incan descendants in the altiplano and the people of Santa Cruz ashamed and doing their best to dissociate themselves from their origins.
Santa Cruz is full of high end clothing and home design stores. Its indulgences are a startling contrast to the poverty elsewhere. There is the question of ´dirty money´. Much of the cocaine revenue is said to exchange hands in Santa Cruz.
Despite racial contentions, Santa Cruz has met us blonde-haired whities with open arms. In Santa Cruz in pursuit of a Brazilian visa the locals couldn´t have been more helpful (Yes we had to travel to the other side of the country just to get the ticket to enter another one). Straight off the plane we journeyed all over town for the visa. Looking like turtles with our huge backpacks strapped on we stumbled here and there. Finally with papers handed in for processing we weary travellers found our hotel.
The next day we ventured into the city where we met an Israeli guy who had just arrived in South America and was eager for some travel buddies. We were glad to have his company and made plans to venture to a wildlife park. At the park we encountered many tropical birds- macaws and toucans were the most impressive finds. There was also a sloth lounging in the bird enclosure. We ventured into the tortoise shelter where you could get up close and personal their collection of greater than 100 tortoises. We patted them and had to exercise all restraint not to sit on them...they were perfect stool height.
After farewelling Gilad we arrived at our hotel to find we were sharing our accomodation with a famous soccer team. Unbeknownst to us they would be playing across the road at the stadium that night. Sitting watching reruns of Friends (with spanish subtitles of course) and eating pizza we were distracted by a great roar and the sound of fireworks . This continued for 90minutes when we finally realised we had missed a soccer game. We were quite disappointed.
Although the weather reminded us of home, Santa Cruz had little else to offer. With the success of obtaining visas for Brazil (insert ´sigh of relief´ here) we made a beeline for the airport on to our next destination.
Situated in the lowlands Santa Cruz is the cosmopolitian, tropical oasis of the impoverished country of Bolivia. Trade out dusty cold cities, poverty and beanies for a warm sun, cool breeze, jewelry stores on every corner and a pair of thongs. Although landlocked this city has the feel of a glitzy beach metropolis with a third world touch. Beauty pageants are a huge part of the culture here. Everyone in Santa Cruz seems to be competing in their own beauty comp...anything that can be fake is...I have never seen so many plastered noses in one place! The plunging necklines and soaring hemlines are a sharp contrast to the modest attire of the people in the altiplano (high regions such as Cochabamba).
Santa Cruz is a city struggling to prove itself. Painfully striving to be more like Brazil than to betray its origins in Bolivia. The story of Mr Bolivia perfectly portrays Santa Cruzś insecurities. A young man from Nebraska his only claim to Bolivia- his untimely delivery in Santa Cruz 20 years earlier decided to later travel to his birthplace to discover his "homelands" culture and customs. The ever alert beauty pagents spotters recruited this young Nebraskan luring him into the competition as just a bit of fun. Representing Bolivia this white, blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy spoke not a word of spanish. When he proceeded to win the competition the country was outraged. They had been betrayed by Santa Cruz. Selfishly seeking its ideal Santa Cruz had crowned the all-American boy Mr Bolivia. A recent Miss Bolvia further reinforced this ideal when at world competition she relayed to television cameras and spectators " In Bolivia, everyone is tall, blonde, speaks english and watches friends." An unlikely story. Needless to say this comment was not met with pride on behalf of the people of Bolivia. Hence, a little rivalry stands between the indigenous pride of the incan descendants in the altiplano and the people of Santa Cruz ashamed and doing their best to dissociate themselves from their origins.
Santa Cruz is full of high end clothing and home design stores. Its indulgences are a startling contrast to the poverty elsewhere. There is the question of ´dirty money´. Much of the cocaine revenue is said to exchange hands in Santa Cruz.
Despite racial contentions, Santa Cruz has met us blonde-haired whities with open arms. In Santa Cruz in pursuit of a Brazilian visa the locals couldn´t have been more helpful (Yes we had to travel to the other side of the country just to get the ticket to enter another one). Straight off the plane we journeyed all over town for the visa. Looking like turtles with our huge backpacks strapped on we stumbled here and there. Finally with papers handed in for processing we weary travellers found our hotel.
The next day we ventured into the city where we met an Israeli guy who had just arrived in South America and was eager for some travel buddies. We were glad to have his company and made plans to venture to a wildlife park. At the park we encountered many tropical birds- macaws and toucans were the most impressive finds. There was also a sloth lounging in the bird enclosure. We ventured into the tortoise shelter where you could get up close and personal their collection of greater than 100 tortoises. We patted them and had to exercise all restraint not to sit on them...they were perfect stool height.
After farewelling Gilad we arrived at our hotel to find we were sharing our accomodation with a famous soccer team. Unbeknownst to us they would be playing across the road at the stadium that night. Sitting watching reruns of Friends (with spanish subtitles of course) and eating pizza we were distracted by a great roar and the sound of fireworks . This continued for 90minutes when we finally realised we had missed a soccer game. We were quite disappointed.
Although the weather reminded us of home, Santa Cruz had little else to offer. With the success of obtaining visas for Brazil (insert ´sigh of relief´ here) we made a beeline for the airport on to our next destination.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Cool As Ice & Nigga Flex
Day 30- Latin Pop Culture & the Ice man
Don't be alarmed about the title "Cool as Ice" is disturbing I know, but I refer to "Nigga Flex". This is actually the name of a popular Hip Hop artist in latin America no joke! You should check out his lastest hit...Entre Mis Brazos (In my Arms) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GgJ7dMhYZ1A lol! This film clip also emphasises how full on the public displays of affection are here in Bolivia and probably south america. Its like an epidemic here! People all over the place are making out- obstructing pathways, stopping traffic, delaying life in general! The song is hilarious but catchy and gets stuck in your head! We were taking a Trufi ride into Quillacollo and this teenage guy got on and sat right at the back. He had his phone with him and despite being in a confined space proceded to share his playlist with us at great volume! Lucky he had good taste! So Entre Mis Brazos comes on and the three of us all kinda liked the sound of it. We made Letitia turn around and ask in spanish for the name of the song. We couldn't help but laugh when we heard he called himself Nigga Flex.
There is a latin american cultural phenomenon known as "machismo"- it is the term used to describe the propensity for men to have to prove their machoism. Consequently, there is lots of whistling from cars, fights and domestic violence. However, this coupled with music is often a hilarious combination because latin american men are also very sappy when it comes to describing their love. Some songs drip with sickingly sweet cliche lines about the stars in your eyes etc etc. It is so far from their machismo! Enter...Nigga Flex- Into my Arms a typical example of these cultural characteristics clashy with vulgarity.
Today we were meant to go on a 12hr round trip "road trip" with Dr Romer. Unfortunately, last minute he pulled out. It was very sad! I had wanted to see some of the countryside and 12hrs of Dr Romer meant 12hrs of laughing and fun! At least we have our trip to Chapare to look forward to it.
That night we made the fateful decision to watch "Cool as Ice" another dvd we had bought from the dodgy pirating shop. It was hilarious! He takes himself was too seriously. At one point the character who plays his heart's desire is asleep. Ice hold ice between his fingertips and wakes her by touching it to her lips. Did I mention she had only met him once and he broke into her room. That aint cool its creepy!
Quote of the movie was when she was trying to get rid of him and said "I will see you later" the cool man Ice returned "You are seeing me now!" Brilliant! Ice is truly a poet! haha!
Despite the terrible acting and awful script we eventually became quite interested and were eager to see the story pan out (I might also mention we had no other alternatives lol). Just as it was reaching the climax dodgy pirate strikes again and the movie ends at just one hour. With over half an hour to go and with a dodgy ending left to see we were devastated! Cool as Ice is so bad that only a dodgy pirating place in Bolivia is likely to stock this! I will never see how the Ice man melts her heart! :(
Don't be alarmed about the title "Cool as Ice" is disturbing I know, but I refer to "Nigga Flex". This is actually the name of a popular Hip Hop artist in latin America no joke! You should check out his lastest hit...Entre Mis Brazos (In my Arms) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GgJ7dMhYZ1A lol! This film clip also emphasises how full on the public displays of affection are here in Bolivia and probably south america. Its like an epidemic here! People all over the place are making out- obstructing pathways, stopping traffic, delaying life in general! The song is hilarious but catchy and gets stuck in your head! We were taking a Trufi ride into Quillacollo and this teenage guy got on and sat right at the back. He had his phone with him and despite being in a confined space proceded to share his playlist with us at great volume! Lucky he had good taste! So Entre Mis Brazos comes on and the three of us all kinda liked the sound of it. We made Letitia turn around and ask in spanish for the name of the song. We couldn't help but laugh when we heard he called himself Nigga Flex.
There is a latin american cultural phenomenon known as "machismo"- it is the term used to describe the propensity for men to have to prove their machoism. Consequently, there is lots of whistling from cars, fights and domestic violence. However, this coupled with music is often a hilarious combination because latin american men are also very sappy when it comes to describing their love. Some songs drip with sickingly sweet cliche lines about the stars in your eyes etc etc. It is so far from their machismo! Enter...Nigga Flex- Into my Arms a typical example of these cultural characteristics clashy with vulgarity.
Today we were meant to go on a 12hr round trip "road trip" with Dr Romer. Unfortunately, last minute he pulled out. It was very sad! I had wanted to see some of the countryside and 12hrs of Dr Romer meant 12hrs of laughing and fun! At least we have our trip to Chapare to look forward to it.
That night we made the fateful decision to watch "Cool as Ice" another dvd we had bought from the dodgy pirating shop. It was hilarious! He takes himself was too seriously. At one point the character who plays his heart's desire is asleep. Ice hold ice between his fingertips and wakes her by touching it to her lips. Did I mention she had only met him once and he broke into her room. That aint cool its creepy!
Quote of the movie was when she was trying to get rid of him and said "I will see you later" the cool man Ice returned "You are seeing me now!" Brilliant! Ice is truly a poet! haha!
Despite the terrible acting and awful script we eventually became quite interested and were eager to see the story pan out (I might also mention we had no other alternatives lol). Just as it was reaching the climax dodgy pirate strikes again and the movie ends at just one hour. With over half an hour to go and with a dodgy ending left to see we were devastated! Cool as Ice is so bad that only a dodgy pirating place in Bolivia is likely to stock this! I will never see how the Ice man melts her heart! :(
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Moving to Tiny Town
Day 29- Tiny Town
So today we have been travelling for 4 weeks! It has gone by so fast! I am really dreading leaving Cochabamba. It has become home! I am loving the experience of Boliva. I love that we have to take smelly old Trufi's everywhere and pile in with a million people! I love that it smells like chicken poop and rotting fruit on every street corner. I love that I can't understand the language but people will greet you with a kiss and talk to you regardless! I love that everywhere you turn is colour and excitement. I love the sights, sounds and smells! I love Bolivia!
Today we had quite a quiet day! We shadowed the gynaecologist for a while who was soo sweet! She adds -ita to every word which makes it like a cutesy affectionate term regardless of what the word is!
Afterwards we did some preparation for the girls orphanage talk. We also found out that another volunteer was on their way and would be arriving next week. Consequently, we had to move rooms. We were to move into a room at the other end of the house. As the house used to be an orphanage for small children this room had a mini bathroom. With tiny preschool size toilets and tiny handbasins. Tiffany and I were moving into Tiny Town!
It is actually more physiologically correct for you to go to the toilet and have your knees above your waist so we decided it was a move in the right direction. Though everytime we go to sit down we fall at least 10cm! Ouch!
So today we have been travelling for 4 weeks! It has gone by so fast! I am really dreading leaving Cochabamba. It has become home! I am loving the experience of Boliva. I love that we have to take smelly old Trufi's everywhere and pile in with a million people! I love that it smells like chicken poop and rotting fruit on every street corner. I love that I can't understand the language but people will greet you with a kiss and talk to you regardless! I love that everywhere you turn is colour and excitement. I love the sights, sounds and smells! I love Bolivia!
Today we had quite a quiet day! We shadowed the gynaecologist for a while who was soo sweet! She adds -ita to every word which makes it like a cutesy affectionate term regardless of what the word is!
Afterwards we did some preparation for the girls orphanage talk. We also found out that another volunteer was on their way and would be arriving next week. Consequently, we had to move rooms. We were to move into a room at the other end of the house. As the house used to be an orphanage for small children this room had a mini bathroom. With tiny preschool size toilets and tiny handbasins. Tiffany and I were moving into Tiny Town!
It is actually more physiologically correct for you to go to the toilet and have your knees above your waist so we decided it was a move in the right direction. Though everytime we go to sit down we fall at least 10cm! Ouch!
Monday, October 11, 2010
La Concha, Corpses and Crepes
Day 28- Crepes after Corpses
After such a hard nights work in the ED Friday night ;P we decided to take the Monday off. We made plans to head into Cochabamba city and shop til we drop at La Cancha air market.
However, before we could go anywhere Tiff and I had to make the trip into Vinto to the fruit and vegetable market. We boarded a Trufi and made our way along the bumpy road to Vinto. This was our first excursion on our own since arriving in Cochabamba. We were excited about our independence but also a little anxious. I made a few people jump in their seat when I shouted for the Trufi to pull up at our stop a little too eagerly.
Armed with shopping bags and a list complete with spanish translation we made our way along the stalls laid out on the ground looking for the best bargains. It is ridiculously cheap here! A whole bag of tomatoes is less than 20c. One little lady grabbed our arms and chatted away too us excitedly in spanish. We caught "are you missionaries?" and "welcome" and "thankyou for coming". It was lovely to have such a friendly welcoming after the difficulties we had had with the community of Anocaraire. We were caught off guard by this precious little lady!
We successfully made our way through the list and were rather pleased with ourselves and our spanish shopping proficiency. For our last item we made our way toward a lady in traditional dress surrounded in by sacks of potatoes. "Cuanto cuesta por doce?" we asked gesturing toward the potatoes. In return we recieved a rapid monologue in a language other than spanish. Ah man, she speaks quechua!! We resorted to pointing...more rapid, more irritated speech. We mimed buying a bag of potatoes...still more rapid and frustrated speech. People around us started to watch the theatrics unfold before them. Other ladies surrounded by potatoes started yelling and spruiking their produce. Another lady tried to help us to no avail. Now quite embarrassed and no closer to getting any potatoes we made a run for it! Literally we ran off haha!
We found another lady who also did not speak spanish but seemed to understand a little more. We were in business. Just when we thought it was all solved we discovered instead of buying 12 potatoes we had bought 5kg of potatoes!!!
When we finally got into the city to La Cancha Tiffany and I went crazy! The ladies in the market must have thought all their christmases had come at once with these nutty blonde gringas. We walked from stall to stall grabbing item after item. The ladies could not keep up with us! Cuanto cuesta this and cuanto cuesta that! I only stopped because I ran out of bolivian money :(!
Laden with our purchases we made our way to the Bolivian Cultural Museum. This was amazing! They had four different section; prehistoric, pre-incan, incan and post spanish invasion. It was spectacular! In the prehistoric section they had bones of a mammoth and the shell of a giant armadillo-like creature. The pre-incan and incan parts of the museum were the most interesting. It was like stepping back into this other world. I felt a little like an intruder, ogling at the most personal aspects of their way of life. It was eerie even! They had clothes, toys, weapons, kitchen utensils, idols and musical instruments. I felt honoured though to have the opportunity to peak into the their past.
After the museum we headed straight for our fave spot "gringa cafe" Cafe Paris. We indulged ourselves with savoury and sweet crepes and cooly sipped coffee surrounded by backpackers and expats.
That night we had a huge bonfire and the American's helped us make smores. I made marshmallow choc bananas in the fire. Tiff and I put all Aussie's to shame when we failed to find the southern cross for the Americans. Our own hemisphere and we were lost! If anyone can help us spot us shoot us a message. I can't bare to lose anymore face in front of the Yankees!
After such a hard nights work in the ED Friday night ;P we decided to take the Monday off. We made plans to head into Cochabamba city and shop til we drop at La Cancha air market.
However, before we could go anywhere Tiff and I had to make the trip into Vinto to the fruit and vegetable market. We boarded a Trufi and made our way along the bumpy road to Vinto. This was our first excursion on our own since arriving in Cochabamba. We were excited about our independence but also a little anxious. I made a few people jump in their seat when I shouted for the Trufi to pull up at our stop a little too eagerly.
Armed with shopping bags and a list complete with spanish translation we made our way along the stalls laid out on the ground looking for the best bargains. It is ridiculously cheap here! A whole bag of tomatoes is less than 20c. One little lady grabbed our arms and chatted away too us excitedly in spanish. We caught "are you missionaries?" and "welcome" and "thankyou for coming". It was lovely to have such a friendly welcoming after the difficulties we had had with the community of Anocaraire. We were caught off guard by this precious little lady!
We successfully made our way through the list and were rather pleased with ourselves and our spanish shopping proficiency. For our last item we made our way toward a lady in traditional dress surrounded in by sacks of potatoes. "Cuanto cuesta por doce?" we asked gesturing toward the potatoes. In return we recieved a rapid monologue in a language other than spanish. Ah man, she speaks quechua!! We resorted to pointing...more rapid, more irritated speech. We mimed buying a bag of potatoes...still more rapid and frustrated speech. People around us started to watch the theatrics unfold before them. Other ladies surrounded by potatoes started yelling and spruiking their produce. Another lady tried to help us to no avail. Now quite embarrassed and no closer to getting any potatoes we made a run for it! Literally we ran off haha!
We found another lady who also did not speak spanish but seemed to understand a little more. We were in business. Just when we thought it was all solved we discovered instead of buying 12 potatoes we had bought 5kg of potatoes!!!
When we finally got into the city to La Cancha Tiffany and I went crazy! The ladies in the market must have thought all their christmases had come at once with these nutty blonde gringas. We walked from stall to stall grabbing item after item. The ladies could not keep up with us! Cuanto cuesta this and cuanto cuesta that! I only stopped because I ran out of bolivian money :(!
Laden with our purchases we made our way to the Bolivian Cultural Museum. This was amazing! They had four different section; prehistoric, pre-incan, incan and post spanish invasion. It was spectacular! In the prehistoric section they had bones of a mammoth and the shell of a giant armadillo-like creature. The pre-incan and incan parts of the museum were the most interesting. It was like stepping back into this other world. I felt a little like an intruder, ogling at the most personal aspects of their way of life. It was eerie even! They had clothes, toys, weapons, kitchen utensils, idols and musical instruments. I felt honoured though to have the opportunity to peak into the their past.
The most amazing, although disturbing attraction was the mummified corpses! They had resconstructed an incan tomb and inside were baskets full of mummified remains. One had its jaw dangling open in a silent scream! It seems that they carried their dead in baskets to tombs located in sacred areas.
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| Incan Tombs |
Another interesting observation here is that the inca people used to mould their heads into the shape of cones! Literally they were cone heads dad! They started from when the children were babies and their heads were soft and made them were hats that slowly shaped their head into a cone. Many of the corpses had cone shaped heads. It was very strange! In fact even today one of the most popular traditional head dresses is a beanie-type thing that makes your head appear as if it is the shape of a cone.
After the museum we headed straight for our fave spot "gringa cafe" Cafe Paris. We indulged ourselves with savoury and sweet crepes and cooly sipped coffee surrounded by backpackers and expats.
That night we had a huge bonfire and the American's helped us make smores. I made marshmallow choc bananas in the fire. Tiff and I put all Aussie's to shame when we failed to find the southern cross for the Americans. Our own hemisphere and we were lost! If anyone can help us spot us shoot us a message. I can't bare to lose anymore face in front of the Yankees!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Danger in Bolivia
When you are about to head overseas adults feel the need to scare you silly. With the best of intentions they share every horrifying and out right ridiculous story of travel dangers. From kidnapping and stealing your kidneys to being forced into carrying drugs hidden in balloons in your stomach across borders. Many a time a concerned adult has launched into a terrifying story of a young traveller caught in dangerous circumstances only to discover their story has an uncanny likeness to a box office thriller. Or "I had this friend who was wrongly convicted of carrying a large amount of drugs into Indonesia and she's spent years in an Indonesian jail". I'm pretty sure that you are talking about Chapelle Corby, you know her personally do you? Oh and I don't mean to pass judgement but I think you would find that it would be difficult to have 10kg of pot planted on you and not notice, wouldn't you say?
So it goes on and on like this, the stories get more and more frightening, and the truth gets in the way less and less...
I'm not silly I know there is a reality to these warnings and that terrible things do happen and you must always be extremely careful. But thankfully these situations are rare and often take a disregard for caution and a lack of sense to land in them.
But what I find remarkable is that no one warns you of the real danger. The type of danger that is common and tangible. The danger you encounter almost everyday. The danger of......the Bolivian roads! Anti-climax you say...not exciting enough for you? Well let me tell you, if anything is going to kill you in Bolivia...its not going to be druglords, gangsters or even piranhas it's going to be the Bolivian roads!
The roads of bolivia are a death trap. A license in Bolivia is both a death sentence and a license to kill. In Bolivia there is no rhyme or reason to the road. There is no such thing as giving way. A 'give way' here is over-ruled by 'get out of my way'. He who honks the loudest has right of way in Bolivia. There is no standard of vehicle in Bolivia, next to nothing warrants a vehicle unroadworthy. What do you need a windscreen for? What the heck is an indicator? But I did say next to nothing...if one's vehicle does not have a horn how would one know who has right of away. If you have no horn, you have no hope. Additionally the roads are terrible here and instead of slowing down to miss potholes and bumps bolivians just speed around them throwing you into the other passengers.
A red traffic light is merely a suggestion, not a command. A suggestion that is rarely entertained. A speed limit just a sign useful only for scrap metal. And the lanes on the road? Find a driver who knows what they mean and I will give you a million bolivianos.
If you don't have to slam on the brakes at least 20 times in your travels you mustn't be going anywhere. If you don't have at least 10 near misses then you just ain't driving right. If you don't lean on that horn continously then you shouldn't be driving.
Bolivia doesn't have seatbelts. Apparently they are not necessary? It seems to me that the more dangerous the roads and greater the likelihood that you will die on the road is directly proportional to the disregard of the necessity of the seatbelt. Go figure? And children's car seat would sell here about as well as ice to eskimo's. Children sit anywhere they please.
Everytime we hit the Bolivian streets I pray that God will get us there safely, I try not to swear when that car narrowly misses us or we pull out in front of a semi-trailer and I kiss the ground at the arrival to our destination.
So let me do you the favour that no one else seems to and warn you...when travelling in another country consider that the greater danger may not be druglords, gangsters and ferrocious native fauna but just might be the risk you take when you hop into that vehicle and find that your seat doesn't come with a seatbelt...
So it goes on and on like this, the stories get more and more frightening, and the truth gets in the way less and less...
I'm not silly I know there is a reality to these warnings and that terrible things do happen and you must always be extremely careful. But thankfully these situations are rare and often take a disregard for caution and a lack of sense to land in them.
But what I find remarkable is that no one warns you of the real danger. The type of danger that is common and tangible. The danger you encounter almost everyday. The danger of......the Bolivian roads! Anti-climax you say...not exciting enough for you? Well let me tell you, if anything is going to kill you in Bolivia...its not going to be druglords, gangsters or even piranhas it's going to be the Bolivian roads!
The roads of bolivia are a death trap. A license in Bolivia is both a death sentence and a license to kill. In Bolivia there is no rhyme or reason to the road. There is no such thing as giving way. A 'give way' here is over-ruled by 'get out of my way'. He who honks the loudest has right of way in Bolivia. There is no standard of vehicle in Bolivia, next to nothing warrants a vehicle unroadworthy. What do you need a windscreen for? What the heck is an indicator? But I did say next to nothing...if one's vehicle does not have a horn how would one know who has right of away. If you have no horn, you have no hope. Additionally the roads are terrible here and instead of slowing down to miss potholes and bumps bolivians just speed around them throwing you into the other passengers.
A red traffic light is merely a suggestion, not a command. A suggestion that is rarely entertained. A speed limit just a sign useful only for scrap metal. And the lanes on the road? Find a driver who knows what they mean and I will give you a million bolivianos.
If you don't have to slam on the brakes at least 20 times in your travels you mustn't be going anywhere. If you don't have at least 10 near misses then you just ain't driving right. If you don't lean on that horn continously then you shouldn't be driving.
Bolivia doesn't have seatbelts. Apparently they are not necessary? It seems to me that the more dangerous the roads and greater the likelihood that you will die on the road is directly proportional to the disregard of the necessity of the seatbelt. Go figure? And children's car seat would sell here about as well as ice to eskimo's. Children sit anywhere they please.
Everytime we hit the Bolivian streets I pray that God will get us there safely, I try not to swear when that car narrowly misses us or we pull out in front of a semi-trailer and I kiss the ground at the arrival to our destination.
So let me do you the favour that no one else seems to and warn you...when travelling in another country consider that the greater danger may not be druglords, gangsters and ferrocious native fauna but just might be the risk you take when you hop into that vehicle and find that your seat doesn't come with a seatbelt...
Another Sunday
Day 27 - Time is going so fast!
I can not believe how quickly our time here is going. I will be really sad to leave Bolivia. It has become very familiar to me and a home away from home. I feel as though we will have to leave just as we are getting settled. I couldn't believe yet another sunday had rolled around. We went to Buen Pastor Church again today. It went for a really long time again. I feel very welcome there and love the atmosphere. I just wish they realised that 2 sermons are not necessary lol We are hoping that some of the girls from the church who are friends with Leticia will be able to come and hang with us this coming Friday. I am sad that we will not be here long enough to make any lasting connections with people. I hope that I will get the opportunity to do something like this again with more time in the future!
This afternoon we did our grocery shopping and relaxed around the house. That night we watched a movie. It was the first pirated movie that we had bought that was the right movie, of decent quality and had an ending. It was nice to relax today after such an eventful weekend. We had big plans for Monday and were eager to rest up before the week ahead.
I can not believe how quickly our time here is going. I will be really sad to leave Bolivia. It has become very familiar to me and a home away from home. I feel as though we will have to leave just as we are getting settled. I couldn't believe yet another sunday had rolled around. We went to Buen Pastor Church again today. It went for a really long time again. I feel very welcome there and love the atmosphere. I just wish they realised that 2 sermons are not necessary lol We are hoping that some of the girls from the church who are friends with Leticia will be able to come and hang with us this coming Friday. I am sad that we will not be here long enough to make any lasting connections with people. I hope that I will get the opportunity to do something like this again with more time in the future!
This afternoon we did our grocery shopping and relaxed around the house. That night we watched a movie. It was the first pirated movie that we had bought that was the right movie, of decent quality and had an ending. It was nice to relax today after such an eventful weekend. We had big plans for Monday and were eager to rest up before the week ahead.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Colourful parades and new aquaintances
Day 26- Missed a parade and made some friends
We slept in until lunch time to make up for our eventful night. The girls from the orphanage had told us that they would be dancing at a parade in Vinto today. We were eager to support them and caught a Trufi to Vinto to watch the parade. When we arrived people were lining the streets expectantly. Yet there was no sign of the parade.
For the first time since arriving in Bolivia we had been invited into a Bolivian home to share a meal. The young couple were eager to share the typical foods of Bolivia with us and wanted to learn more about our culture. We were expected at their home at 3pm. We nervously checked our watches. The parade still showed no signs of making its way through the street anytime soon. Leta made a quick call to the orphanage house parent. In true Bolivian style we discovered the parade had been postponed an hour. We were going to miss it! I was really devastated. I have so desperately wanted to see a parade hear in south america. South Americans know how to put on a parade, the music and dancing is amazing! The costumes elaborate and outrageous! Strangely, parades are occuring here all the time...every event seems an excuse for a parade! Yet we have managed to miss every single one! I was very unhappy!
Disappointed that we didn't get to see the actual parade we made our way back to the Trufi stop. However, we were grateful that we had gotten to see some of the costumes and stolen some cool shots. The trufi took us to Quillacollo where Javier met us and took us to his house. His wife Laura and two small children were eagerly awaiting our arrival. We shared a vegetarian meal (Javier was convinced one of us was vegetarian, we didn't have the heart to say otherwise) of typical bolivian foods. It was delicious! It was a pleasure to be invited into these people's homes. We chatted about differences in foods, cultures, customs. They shared some must-see spots with us and showed us some traditional bolivian music. With full bellies we departed with promises to return again within the next week. We are hoping to return the favour and take them some American and Australian food. Tiffany and I are going to attempt to make pavalova...wish us luck!
Friday, October 8, 2010
An all-nighter in a Bolivian ED!
Day 25 - A sleepless night at Viedma Hospital ED
We did our best to try to sleep-in this morning hoping that the stored sleep would give us the stamina we needed for our approaching night shift. We didn't know what to expect in the ED at Viedma. When we had peeked in on our tour it was small but very busy. Through the curtain I could see a group of doctors trying without much success to intubate a patient. We knew that if all else failed at least we would see some wierd and wacky stuff...and we certainly did.
On arrival we were introduced to a few busy doctors and then were left to our own devices. We followed around some Brazilian students. We have discovered that the brazilian's are always friendly! They seem to be culturally overtly flirtatous in everything they do and say. They can turn the most dull inquiries into a flirtatous question. There favourite line is "So how bout you teach me some english, and i will show you how to speak portuguese?" It is a little disconcerting but for the most part is pretty hilarious!
The doctors quizzed us endlessly on our first patient's x-ray. This was especially difficult because we had to try and teach Leticia the correct medical answers in spanish. He didn't seem very impressed with us. He told us we should examine him as it was a very interesting case. Just as we drew up to his bed and were about to start the examination he revealed the diagnosis...TB! We quickly withdraw eager not to be infected by this terrible disease. A confused Leticia queried "Don't you guys want to examine him?" We quickly filled her in on the perils of TB infection, primarily, "We may not be able to re-enter our country if we are infected". She caught on quickly and backed away herself. It was interesting to be in a country where TB is so common place and almost everyone is likely to have been exposed to it. In Australia, the patient would be isolated, full sterile gown and glove precautions in place, and placed in a negative pressure room. This guy was parked in the bay next to a mother and child.
We then watched a intern struggle with some stitches. I felt for her. She was obviously out of her depth. She had a deep head wound that wouldn't stop bleeding and she had no one but over eager brazilian students to help her. I was surprised that she did not even know to apply pressure. The interns really do have too much responsibility in Bolivia.
A pungent smell wafted over the curtain divider from the room next door. The brazilian students were eager to show us the origin of this awful aroma. The poor patient had necrotising cellulitis of his scrotum. The ulcer it created was huge and looked horribly infected. We couldn't believe how bad the patient had let it get before presenting. He will be lucky to escape the terrible complications an infection like this can cause. He would have been in sooo much pain!
Overwhelmed by the smell we did our best to try and escape it but discovered that it polluted the whole ED. Surprisingly, this coincided with the realisation that we were quite hungry and decided to make a trip for some sustenance. We set out into the busy Friday night streets of Cochabamba city. We walked a few blocks when we happened upon Super Pollo (Chicken) which looked like KFC. We made a quick evaluation; it was busy (good sign), busyness meant quick turn over of food- less time for unwelcome organisms to grow, food was fried (few organisms could live through that kind of test), a new batch of chicken had just been dumped into the heater...it seemed to a winner. Before scoffing down our fried and extremely salty chicken (another good sign) we prayed fervently over our food hoping that all bugs would be repelled in the name of
Jesus!
Back at the ED things had slowed down quite considerably. Our friendly brazilians had left and in their place was Pablo. Pablo was a really lovely Bolivian guy who was also studying medicine. He hailed from Potosi. The official highest community in the world. It is extremely cold there and the altitude sickness is terrible. The main industry is mining and there has been a long history of horrific working conditions for little wages. Pablo seemed glad to have our company through the long shift and we made sure to teach him and pull him in on interesting cases.
Over the night we saw a number of traumas. Most car accidents, one bashing and one poor medical student who's friend had dislocated his shoulder. His friend was also a medical student and got to help the doctor pop it back in. Doctors always tell us that this is an easy procedure. However, every single case of shoulder dislocation has required a mammoth effort of pulling and tugging and pushing to get the stubborn dislocation to return to its rightful place.
The highlight of the night was when some of our animated Brazilian medical student friends from Hospitals of Hope arrived in a flurry of excitement. They were the last people we expected to see in at Viedma. With sirens blazing an ambulance pulled into the bay and with much clattering and clanging a trolley rolled out and started veering toward the entrance. Our two frazzled friends drove that trolley like a rally car it rolled this way, veered that way, narrowly missed that patient, but didn't miss that nurse. With a sharp reprimand for a nurse they seemed to come out of their frenzy and steered the trolley into a bay. It was like something out of a bad slapstick comedy. We were doing our best to suppress laughter. They competently stabilised their patient and then spent some time reassuring her family. I was impressed with their bedside manner after their dramatic entrance.
Pablo and the three of us did our best to stay awake when their was a lull in the action. Tiffany even shared around some caffeine tablets. They seemed to push me over the edge in the other direction and by 5am we were asleep on our feet. We farewelled our new friend Pablo and caught a taxi home.
In the cold, dark, early hours of the morning we stumbled toward the hospital entrance to discover the gate was locked and there was no sign of a guard. We made a quick decision to scale the stone wall and drop down into the hospital grounds. It was a slipperly climb but we dropped in just in front of the Bomberos (Firefighters) house. I am glad we didn't wake them because they have been known to shoot at things in the dark with a bird-fright gun!
When we got to the front door we realised with dismay that we had been locked out! We had resolved to climbing once again over the back fence when I leaned over to turn on the porch light. DING DONG! Apparently the door bell had disguised itself as a porch light. A startled looking Leta opened the door. Just before the sun came up we flopped into bed!
We did our best to try to sleep-in this morning hoping that the stored sleep would give us the stamina we needed for our approaching night shift. We didn't know what to expect in the ED at Viedma. When we had peeked in on our tour it was small but very busy. Through the curtain I could see a group of doctors trying without much success to intubate a patient. We knew that if all else failed at least we would see some wierd and wacky stuff...and we certainly did.
On arrival we were introduced to a few busy doctors and then were left to our own devices. We followed around some Brazilian students. We have discovered that the brazilian's are always friendly! They seem to be culturally overtly flirtatous in everything they do and say. They can turn the most dull inquiries into a flirtatous question. There favourite line is "So how bout you teach me some english, and i will show you how to speak portuguese?" It is a little disconcerting but for the most part is pretty hilarious!
The doctors quizzed us endlessly on our first patient's x-ray. This was especially difficult because we had to try and teach Leticia the correct medical answers in spanish. He didn't seem very impressed with us. He told us we should examine him as it was a very interesting case. Just as we drew up to his bed and were about to start the examination he revealed the diagnosis...TB! We quickly withdraw eager not to be infected by this terrible disease. A confused Leticia queried "Don't you guys want to examine him?" We quickly filled her in on the perils of TB infection, primarily, "We may not be able to re-enter our country if we are infected". She caught on quickly and backed away herself. It was interesting to be in a country where TB is so common place and almost everyone is likely to have been exposed to it. In Australia, the patient would be isolated, full sterile gown and glove precautions in place, and placed in a negative pressure room. This guy was parked in the bay next to a mother and child.
We then watched a intern struggle with some stitches. I felt for her. She was obviously out of her depth. She had a deep head wound that wouldn't stop bleeding and she had no one but over eager brazilian students to help her. I was surprised that she did not even know to apply pressure. The interns really do have too much responsibility in Bolivia.
A pungent smell wafted over the curtain divider from the room next door. The brazilian students were eager to show us the origin of this awful aroma. The poor patient had necrotising cellulitis of his scrotum. The ulcer it created was huge and looked horribly infected. We couldn't believe how bad the patient had let it get before presenting. He will be lucky to escape the terrible complications an infection like this can cause. He would have been in sooo much pain!
Overwhelmed by the smell we did our best to try and escape it but discovered that it polluted the whole ED. Surprisingly, this coincided with the realisation that we were quite hungry and decided to make a trip for some sustenance. We set out into the busy Friday night streets of Cochabamba city. We walked a few blocks when we happened upon Super Pollo (Chicken) which looked like KFC. We made a quick evaluation; it was busy (good sign), busyness meant quick turn over of food- less time for unwelcome organisms to grow, food was fried (few organisms could live through that kind of test), a new batch of chicken had just been dumped into the heater...it seemed to a winner. Before scoffing down our fried and extremely salty chicken (another good sign) we prayed fervently over our food hoping that all bugs would be repelled in the name of
Jesus!
Back at the ED things had slowed down quite considerably. Our friendly brazilians had left and in their place was Pablo. Pablo was a really lovely Bolivian guy who was also studying medicine. He hailed from Potosi. The official highest community in the world. It is extremely cold there and the altitude sickness is terrible. The main industry is mining and there has been a long history of horrific working conditions for little wages. Pablo seemed glad to have our company through the long shift and we made sure to teach him and pull him in on interesting cases.
Over the night we saw a number of traumas. Most car accidents, one bashing and one poor medical student who's friend had dislocated his shoulder. His friend was also a medical student and got to help the doctor pop it back in. Doctors always tell us that this is an easy procedure. However, every single case of shoulder dislocation has required a mammoth effort of pulling and tugging and pushing to get the stubborn dislocation to return to its rightful place.
The highlight of the night was when some of our animated Brazilian medical student friends from Hospitals of Hope arrived in a flurry of excitement. They were the last people we expected to see in at Viedma. With sirens blazing an ambulance pulled into the bay and with much clattering and clanging a trolley rolled out and started veering toward the entrance. Our two frazzled friends drove that trolley like a rally car it rolled this way, veered that way, narrowly missed that patient, but didn't miss that nurse. With a sharp reprimand for a nurse they seemed to come out of their frenzy and steered the trolley into a bay. It was like something out of a bad slapstick comedy. We were doing our best to suppress laughter. They competently stabilised their patient and then spent some time reassuring her family. I was impressed with their bedside manner after their dramatic entrance.
Pablo and the three of us did our best to stay awake when their was a lull in the action. Tiffany even shared around some caffeine tablets. They seemed to push me over the edge in the other direction and by 5am we were asleep on our feet. We farewelled our new friend Pablo and caught a taxi home.
In the cold, dark, early hours of the morning we stumbled toward the hospital entrance to discover the gate was locked and there was no sign of a guard. We made a quick decision to scale the stone wall and drop down into the hospital grounds. It was a slipperly climb but we dropped in just in front of the Bomberos (Firefighters) house. I am glad we didn't wake them because they have been known to shoot at things in the dark with a bird-fright gun!
When we got to the front door we realised with dismay that we had been locked out! We had resolved to climbing once again over the back fence when I leaned over to turn on the porch light. DING DONG! Apparently the door bell had disguised itself as a porch light. A startled looking Leta opened the door. Just before the sun came up we flopped into bed!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Colouring-in & Blending Banana
Day 24- A different education
These girls are so beautiful! Even though we don't speak their language they want to know all about us. They want us to play games with them and answer their questions. The orphanage was started by a christian organisation that for some reason had to pull out their support. Of all the orphanages I feel most unrest about this one. It doesn't have that light and happy feel of the other orphanages. It is the most run down. It is comprised of two big cement buildings joined by a walk way. The paint is peeling, it is cold, it smells damp, the electric switches are coming out of the walls and does not feel homely at all. The girls school uniforms and clothes are old and worn. They don't have any colourful bedspreads or curtains to give their rooms a personal feel.
The orphanage is run by one house parent who seems tired and worn out. She doesn't seem to be a christian and the girls do not get to attend church. It seems that our rare visits are the only way these young girls hear about God. Because the orphanage is no longer financially supported the girls have to find ways to raise money for themselves. They have a very basic vegetable garden who's produce is sold at the local markets. They are also put to work pulling old cars apart and selling it's pieces for spare parts. I was shocked when I heard that the other volunteers had seen the girls, even the little ones working away on these cars so they had money for food.
I would love to help them out but I just don't know where to start. I want to give them so much. I want them to know what it is like to have the silly things we take for granted- possessions to call their own, to go shopping, to have their hair done. I especially want them to have the opportunity to go to university if they want or to be able to afford to do a traineeship. I want them to have the opportunity to escape the cycle that they have found themselves caught in. Where do you start though? How many others out there are in the same situation but aren't even as lucky as these girls? This is something that I really need to seek God about. I don't want to just say all this and then forget about it, forget about them.
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| Ascaris Lumbricoides worms |
This morning at the hospital we did rounds with the beautiful Dayana then sat in on the gastroenterologists weekly sermon. Today he based his sermon around a Hillsong song. Hillsong seems to be following us everywhere. Leta has started a free cafe in the hospital as a means to meet people and develop a communication between the community and the hospital staff. It is going tremendously and everyone is so pleased the coffee is so readily available! (Everyone here has coffee with lots of milk, and they all say "Just a little sugar please, 3 teaspoons thankyou!") After helping at the cafe for a while we decided to sit in with one of the internal medicine docs. We saw a few interesting cases including a woman with the ascaris lumbricoides worm which we don't have in Australia and have only ever read about in books.
We spent the whole afternoon making posters for the education session with the girl's at the orphanage. I have finally got to use my creativity in medicine and spent a whole lot of time drawing pictures and colouring in!
That night we headed to the girls orphanage. We started our presentation by blending all the terrible foods that they eat all the time here with coke and oil and dared them to drink it. We spoke about nutrition and about how nutritious food can still taste good. We made them a banana smoothie using all healthy ingredients which they really enjoyed. We then talked about female sexual development. We also took them through the diagrams I had drawn. They knew most of it from biology at school but hopefully we filled in some gaps. The orphanage parent has asked us to talk to the older girls about sex and relationships next week. This is an incredible opportunity to share the word of God with them. It is also going to be really difficult because some of the girls have been sexually abused. God is going to have to give us the right words to say. We are going to continue with the health promotion approach and tell them all about STD's...oh what fun!
These girls are so beautiful! Even though we don't speak their language they want to know all about us. They want us to play games with them and answer their questions. The orphanage was started by a christian organisation that for some reason had to pull out their support. Of all the orphanages I feel most unrest about this one. It doesn't have that light and happy feel of the other orphanages. It is the most run down. It is comprised of two big cement buildings joined by a walk way. The paint is peeling, it is cold, it smells damp, the electric switches are coming out of the walls and does not feel homely at all. The girls school uniforms and clothes are old and worn. They don't have any colourful bedspreads or curtains to give their rooms a personal feel. The orphanage is run by one house parent who seems tired and worn out. She doesn't seem to be a christian and the girls do not get to attend church. It seems that our rare visits are the only way these young girls hear about God. Because the orphanage is no longer financially supported the girls have to find ways to raise money for themselves. They have a very basic vegetable garden who's produce is sold at the local markets. They are also put to work pulling old cars apart and selling it's pieces for spare parts. I was shocked when I heard that the other volunteers had seen the girls, even the little ones working away on these cars so they had money for food.
I would love to help them out but I just don't know where to start. I want to give them so much. I want them to know what it is like to have the silly things we take for granted- possessions to call their own, to go shopping, to have their hair done. I especially want them to have the opportunity to go to university if they want or to be able to afford to do a traineeship. I want them to have the opportunity to escape the cycle that they have found themselves caught in. Where do you start though? How many others out there are in the same situation but aren't even as lucky as these girls? This is something that I really need to seek God about. I don't want to just say all this and then forget about it, forget about them.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
More crazy Kids!
Day 23- The cutest bunch in Cochabamba!
This morning we prepared for an education session we are going to run in the older girl's orphanage. We have been given the opportunity to talk to the girls ranging in ages 8-18 about nutrition and sexual development. The bolivian people have very poor nutrition at both extremes. High fat foods are dietary staples here and obesity is an increasing issue. Lack of nutrient foods and the number of intestinal worms and parasite infestations leads to many presentations of malnutrition. We hoped that we could present some information about eating healthy in a fun, interactive way.
Additionally, many of the girls are teenagers and haven't had a mum around for a long time to have "that talk" with about growing up. They asked if we could give the girls some basic information. We had to be very sensitive about how we presented this topic as many of the girls are from abusive backgrounds.
We had lunch with some of the young doctors from the hospital. These two doctors are the guys who do clinics with us. When we first met them we thought they were very serious and disapproving of us. With time they have relaxed. I think that they felt really honoured to be invited to have lunch with us. They were surprised by how much effort Leta had gone to with the meal. It was difficult talking with them because everything had to be translated. It is really difficult to get to know someone like this. I often think that I can speak to them in spanish but I just lack the confidence to go ahead and do it. They were eager to talk to us about all the foods we hadn't tried yet and even offered to bring some to the hospital for us to try.
After lunch we headed to Casa de Amor II to conduct a clinic. Casa de Amor II is an orphanage with the cutest kids ranging from 3-8 years of age. There are only 12 kids. This was fortunate for us because the place was a mad house! The kids were so excited to have visitors that any promise of an orderly quiet clinic went out the window. They were crawling all over us, pulling at our hair and stealing our stethoscopes. They kept dragging us into cubby houses and begging with us to play with them. Even though it was a short clinic it was exhausting! We all had so much fun though and didn't want to leave these cuties. We collapsed into the Trufi after finally prying the small children off us and sneaking out the door. These kids were so beautiful, so intelligent and so sweet. It is amazing to think that they have a parent somewhere that doesn't want them.
That evening Tiffany and I did our best to muster up all the latin american we have inside of us and bust out the brazilian samba. My my those girls can move their hips! When we realised that the samba might be a little advanced for us hip-swinging beginners we defered to the salsa. We worked up a sweat and came to the conclusion that we were going to need a heck of a lot of practice before we could hold our own in this continent.
Helen from the hospital was conducting another surprise visit to the hospital staff and ambulance station in the early hours of the morning and was staying with us. She was appalled by our dancing efforts and showed us how to really "move the hips". Lesson learned! She assured us that with all the practice we "needed" we would develop the perfect abs...she suggested that when we arrive home in Australia we show off our Samba sculpted body and dance off the plane...ummm maybe i will think about it! lol
This morning we prepared for an education session we are going to run in the older girl's orphanage. We have been given the opportunity to talk to the girls ranging in ages 8-18 about nutrition and sexual development. The bolivian people have very poor nutrition at both extremes. High fat foods are dietary staples here and obesity is an increasing issue. Lack of nutrient foods and the number of intestinal worms and parasite infestations leads to many presentations of malnutrition. We hoped that we could present some information about eating healthy in a fun, interactive way.
Additionally, many of the girls are teenagers and haven't had a mum around for a long time to have "that talk" with about growing up. They asked if we could give the girls some basic information. We had to be very sensitive about how we presented this topic as many of the girls are from abusive backgrounds.
We had lunch with some of the young doctors from the hospital. These two doctors are the guys who do clinics with us. When we first met them we thought they were very serious and disapproving of us. With time they have relaxed. I think that they felt really honoured to be invited to have lunch with us. They were surprised by how much effort Leta had gone to with the meal. It was difficult talking with them because everything had to be translated. It is really difficult to get to know someone like this. I often think that I can speak to them in spanish but I just lack the confidence to go ahead and do it. They were eager to talk to us about all the foods we hadn't tried yet and even offered to bring some to the hospital for us to try.
After lunch we headed to Casa de Amor II to conduct a clinic. Casa de Amor II is an orphanage with the cutest kids ranging from 3-8 years of age. There are only 12 kids. This was fortunate for us because the place was a mad house! The kids were so excited to have visitors that any promise of an orderly quiet clinic went out the window. They were crawling all over us, pulling at our hair and stealing our stethoscopes. They kept dragging us into cubby houses and begging with us to play with them. Even though it was a short clinic it was exhausting! We all had so much fun though and didn't want to leave these cuties. We collapsed into the Trufi after finally prying the small children off us and sneaking out the door. These kids were so beautiful, so intelligent and so sweet. It is amazing to think that they have a parent somewhere that doesn't want them.
That evening Tiffany and I did our best to muster up all the latin american we have inside of us and bust out the brazilian samba. My my those girls can move their hips! When we realised that the samba might be a little advanced for us hip-swinging beginners we defered to the salsa. We worked up a sweat and came to the conclusion that we were going to need a heck of a lot of practice before we could hold our own in this continent.
Helen from the hospital was conducting another surprise visit to the hospital staff and ambulance station in the early hours of the morning and was staying with us. She was appalled by our dancing efforts and showed us how to really "move the hips". Lesson learned! She assured us that with all the practice we "needed" we would develop the perfect abs...she suggested that when we arrive home in Australia we show off our Samba sculpted body and dance off the plane...ummm maybe i will think about it! lol
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
The Day of Big News
Day 22- Big News and Bad News
This morning we sat in with the pediatrician. She is really lovely and is happy to have us observe and ask questions. We saw some colds and flus and a young girls with hepatitis A. We only have Hepatitis A rarely in indigenous communities in Australia. So we had never seen this before.
It seems that in South America paediatricians see many patients that GP's would see in Australia. They are an all-round children's doctor not necessarily a specialist in the way we would define it.
That afternoon we rode again with Dr Romer to Viedma Hospital. Once again there was nothing organised for us to do. We were taken on a tour of the hospital by a senior doctor. He was so proud of the 3 year old hospital and its "state-of-the-art" equipment. We were shocked when we found out it was only 3 years old. It looked older than any hospital I had seen in Australia. I assume that they used all old building materials and much of their equipment is donated second hand from the states. We passed a bunch of interns who were typing documents up on typewriters!!! Yes typewriters! We couldn't believe it.
At the end of the tour he took us to the infectious disease ward, the last standing part of the old hospital...which I later realised was probably full of patient with TB. Cough! Cough! We suddenly realised why he was so proud of the "new" hospital! This ward was falling to pieces it was dank and dark and the patient's rooms were prehistoric. I was really saddened to see patient's who would have been so unwell forced to live in these horrible conditions. One young man peered out from his room his face hollowed out, the skin stretched over his prominent cheek bones, his sunken eyes watching our every move. An outcast he was probably suffering the last stages of TB or AIDs alone banished to this crumbling ward.
This time Dr Romer made sure to organise a time for us to go to the ED and do a shift. It was decided that we would be dropped at the hospital at 5pm Friday and picked up the next morning. This is going to be an epic night but hopefully we will see some cool stuff!!
Today a number of people confided in us about really big issues. I don't know if it is because we are not directly in their circumstances and have an outsiders perspective or if we are just the 3 gringa girls who won't be here long so why does it matter. I was amazed that they trusted us enough to share their concerns but at the same time it is difficult to be put in a situation where you know too much.
We also found out today that the girl who was meant to be arriving in a few weeks time has been declared dead. Prior to her departure from Canada she and her boyfriend went hiking. They had just two days rations with them. They have apparently been missing for over a month. However, it was only a few days ago that they were officially declared dead.
This was such a shock to us. She had been the topic of much excited conversation in the guest house recently. We were eager to have a new acquaintance in our home. It was very difficult to comprehend and although we didn't know her at all it was very upsetting. We had been expecting her. She was meant to become part of our life here. It is such a tragedy when young people die in completely preventable circumstances. Her family must be experiencing such terrible grief. I can't even imagine how difficult it must of been to tell HOH that she wouldn't be coming. They would have had to speak finality into a situation where they had no closure. We need to remember to pray for them.
This morning we sat in with the pediatrician. She is really lovely and is happy to have us observe and ask questions. We saw some colds and flus and a young girls with hepatitis A. We only have Hepatitis A rarely in indigenous communities in Australia. So we had never seen this before.
It seems that in South America paediatricians see many patients that GP's would see in Australia. They are an all-round children's doctor not necessarily a specialist in the way we would define it.
That afternoon we rode again with Dr Romer to Viedma Hospital. Once again there was nothing organised for us to do. We were taken on a tour of the hospital by a senior doctor. He was so proud of the 3 year old hospital and its "state-of-the-art" equipment. We were shocked when we found out it was only 3 years old. It looked older than any hospital I had seen in Australia. I assume that they used all old building materials and much of their equipment is donated second hand from the states. We passed a bunch of interns who were typing documents up on typewriters!!! Yes typewriters! We couldn't believe it.
At the end of the tour he took us to the infectious disease ward, the last standing part of the old hospital...which I later realised was probably full of patient with TB. Cough! Cough! We suddenly realised why he was so proud of the "new" hospital! This ward was falling to pieces it was dank and dark and the patient's rooms were prehistoric. I was really saddened to see patient's who would have been so unwell forced to live in these horrible conditions. One young man peered out from his room his face hollowed out, the skin stretched over his prominent cheek bones, his sunken eyes watching our every move. An outcast he was probably suffering the last stages of TB or AIDs alone banished to this crumbling ward.
This time Dr Romer made sure to organise a time for us to go to the ED and do a shift. It was decided that we would be dropped at the hospital at 5pm Friday and picked up the next morning. This is going to be an epic night but hopefully we will see some cool stuff!!
Today a number of people confided in us about really big issues. I don't know if it is because we are not directly in their circumstances and have an outsiders perspective or if we are just the 3 gringa girls who won't be here long so why does it matter. I was amazed that they trusted us enough to share their concerns but at the same time it is difficult to be put in a situation where you know too much.
We also found out today that the girl who was meant to be arriving in a few weeks time has been declared dead. Prior to her departure from Canada she and her boyfriend went hiking. They had just two days rations with them. They have apparently been missing for over a month. However, it was only a few days ago that they were officially declared dead.
This was such a shock to us. She had been the topic of much excited conversation in the guest house recently. We were eager to have a new acquaintance in our home. It was very difficult to comprehend and although we didn't know her at all it was very upsetting. We had been expecting her. She was meant to become part of our life here. It is such a tragedy when young people die in completely preventable circumstances. Her family must be experiencing such terrible grief. I can't even imagine how difficult it must of been to tell HOH that she wouldn't be coming. They would have had to speak finality into a situation where they had no closure. We need to remember to pray for them.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Day 21
Day 21
Today is just day 21 because it was kinda uneventful. We finally finished organising the boxes which took most of the afternoon. It felt great to have them so organised. We now have only 2 boxes to take to clinics instead of lugging four big boxes around. We no longer have to dump all the drugs on the ground to find what we need.
That night was beloved mexican night. We all pitch in together and make burritos with a bunch of side dishes which is the most anticipated meal of the week. Leta told us about the girl and guy who are coming in the next few weeks. It will be exciting to have some new people around the guest house.
Today is just day 21 because it was kinda uneventful. We finally finished organising the boxes which took most of the afternoon. It felt great to have them so organised. We now have only 2 boxes to take to clinics instead of lugging four big boxes around. We no longer have to dump all the drugs on the ground to find what we need.
That night was beloved mexican night. We all pitch in together and make burritos with a bunch of side dishes which is the most anticipated meal of the week. Leta told us about the girl and guy who are coming in the next few weeks. It will be exciting to have some new people around the guest house.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Banana milkshake & Cheese
Day 20- Sunday Shake & Shop
Today we returned to church at Buen Pastor (Good Shepherd). It was a great message but unfortunately Spanish church goes for hours and hours. This particular church thinks that it is a good idea to have praise and worship then a premessage (the length of a message) and then praise and worship number 2 and then the message. It is exhausting! We travel an hour to church and then church goes for 2 and half hours. Additionally, because church is in spanish the girls translate it for us. To make it easy they leave out any of the light stuff jokes, stories etc. So today sermon number one was really good and I would have been totally cool if it stopped there.
Hungry and warn out we made our way to Wistupiku, the empanada restaurant we went to the first Saturday we arrived. Tiff and I both thought it would be a great idea if we ordered banana milkshakes and cheese empanadas. Cheese and banana milkshake actually don't go down that well together and we felt sooo sick! The staff from Casa de Amor had brought a number of the older children (still between the ages of 1-3yrs) to Wistupiku for lunch. Amazingly all the kids recognised us and jumped into our arms when we arrived.
We then crossed the road and went to IC Norte to do our grocery shopping. Grocery shopping here is quite different. There is hardly any fresh fruit and vegies because everyone buys these goods at markets. Alcohol is sold in the supermarket and is crazy cheap. There is hardly any chocolate much to Tiffany and I's dismay, we have resorted to buying giant toblerone to get us through the week. This country is chocolate retarded! They really like wierd things like drinkable yoghurt, and wafer biscuits but there are no potato chips and hardly any types of cheese. They have lots of random softdrinks like coconut and peach. In fact, they love peach everything; peach drinkable yoghurt, peach flavoured biscuits, lollies, ice-cream. They're nuts for peach! Oh and all bread here tastes and feels like it is stale. We have enjoyed eating these random foods but I am so grateful for the variety we have in Australia.
Today we returned to church at Buen Pastor (Good Shepherd). It was a great message but unfortunately Spanish church goes for hours and hours. This particular church thinks that it is a good idea to have praise and worship then a premessage (the length of a message) and then praise and worship number 2 and then the message. It is exhausting! We travel an hour to church and then church goes for 2 and half hours. Additionally, because church is in spanish the girls translate it for us. To make it easy they leave out any of the light stuff jokes, stories etc. So today sermon number one was really good and I would have been totally cool if it stopped there.
Hungry and warn out we made our way to Wistupiku, the empanada restaurant we went to the first Saturday we arrived. Tiff and I both thought it would be a great idea if we ordered banana milkshakes and cheese empanadas. Cheese and banana milkshake actually don't go down that well together and we felt sooo sick! The staff from Casa de Amor had brought a number of the older children (still between the ages of 1-3yrs) to Wistupiku for lunch. Amazingly all the kids recognised us and jumped into our arms when we arrived.
We then crossed the road and went to IC Norte to do our grocery shopping. Grocery shopping here is quite different. There is hardly any fresh fruit and vegies because everyone buys these goods at markets. Alcohol is sold in the supermarket and is crazy cheap. There is hardly any chocolate much to Tiffany and I's dismay, we have resorted to buying giant toblerone to get us through the week. This country is chocolate retarded! They really like wierd things like drinkable yoghurt, and wafer biscuits but there are no potato chips and hardly any types of cheese. They have lots of random softdrinks like coconut and peach. In fact, they love peach everything; peach drinkable yoghurt, peach flavoured biscuits, lollies, ice-cream. They're nuts for peach! Oh and all bread here tastes and feels like it is stale. We have enjoyed eating these random foods but I am so grateful for the variety we have in Australia.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Riding a cable car to Jesus
Day 19- Failed plans and visiting Jesus
We woke to find that our Saturday was plagued with clouds. We were to hike the mountains behind the house today and were determined not to let the questionable whether stifle our plans. We were to go hiking with one of the young doctors from the hospital Daniel. At 11pm we arrived at the hospital armed with a picnic ready to start our journey. Daniel relayed with much disappointment that he could no longer go as he had other plans that he had forgotten. Unfortunately, it would be unsafe to continue on our journey without a male and we had to abandon our plans. We ate our picnic in the house and deliberated over what to do instead.
The Trufi strike had ended overnight and we discussed making the trip into the city to see the statue of Christ perched on a hill. By this time it began to rain. We decided against climbing the hill and decided to take the cable car to Jesus instead. Tiffany have got into the habit of asking "...but do you trust a ______ in Bolivia?". We would ask this of many things serious; taxi, policeman, ATM etc and many not so serious things; fried chicken, pram, ferris wheel, chinese food? I felt that cable car fell into the more serious catergory. I made sure to inspect the integrity of the cable and pray over the cabin before we entered. At the top we made the rest of the hike up to see the statue of Christ. He loomed over us peering down watchfully protecting the people of Cochabamba.
Many bolivians took photos of the christ and then took photos of us white girls getting photos of the christ. We waited for them to open the gate to the stairwell that climbed up inside the statue. While we waited we decided to get a drink at a little cafe. Sitting in the plastic coca-cola chairs at the cafe was a bride and groom hurriedly eating a meal with their photographier. They eventually made their way up to the statue and had wedding photos with Jesus.
Finally the gate opened and we climbed up very rickety stairs first to jesus' hips, then into his stomach and finally into his chest. It was very dark inside of jesus and smelt like candy and urine...We took some photos from Jesus and then made our way slowly back down. I can now literally say that I know what it is to live in Jesus.
Our pilgrimage to Jesus had made us hungry and we made our way to a quaint little colonial style french cafe in the city. I am all for experiencing the food of that country but this place was just to cute to walk by. Cafe Paris was divine! We knew that we must have stumbled upon a good thing when we walked inside and found the cafe was full of european travellers. They sat at tables smoking and sipping coffee while playing cards, using the wireless or discussing the differences in their accents.
We found a little table in the corner and drooled over the menu. We each ordered coffee and crepes. To our surprise bolivians make incredible crepes. It was delicious! The total of the bill for this outstanding food for all for of us was less than $10US. I felt like I was ripping them off considering I had enjoyed it sooooo much! It was definetly a winner! I recommend it if any of you ever travel through this way lol
Before we left the city we found a DVD store...to our dismay all the DVDs were pirated. We found all sorts of movies there. Many that havent even been released to DVD yet. That night we watched a copy of Date Night that we bought. It was horrific quality. The sound was terrible! I felt like I was watching the movie from a great distance. We also discovered that what we thought was a copy of Step up 3 was actually another movie called Street Dance and the blurb on the back didnt match either movies. I guess it serves us right for buying pirated DVDs.
To her amazement Tiff found a DVD called 'Cool As Ice' which get this...stars Vanilla Ice. Who would be crazy enough to make a movie starring Vanilla Ice? Its byline is "When a girl has a heart of stone, there's only one way to melt it...Just add ice". Sounds like a Sundance film festival winner! Apparently it lives up to expectations and is the most unashamedly lame movie ever put to film! Tiff and Ray had discovered it and said it was full of laughs! I looking forward to it...let me share with you the literary genious of the blurb (obviously someone's opinion not the original blurb) on the DVD case...
" 'When a girl has a heart of stone, there's only one way to melt it...just add ice.' Take a few minutes to let that statement sink in people, because it makes just about as much sense as the movie does. 1991 was a big year for Vanilla Ice- aka V-ice aka Robert Van Winkle- he is already enjoying success from having rapped his way into the charts, then he made a cameo in "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Secret of the ooze" in which he performed the "Ninja Rap" on stage. Amazingly, he was denied an oscar for this brilliant freestyle musical performance, but that didnt stop Ice. He had another ace up his sleeve (though I'm sure he'd call it an "ice up his sleeve") in the form of his starring role in Cool as Ice. Sadly, for the Winkle man, it would be his last starring role as well. So let's excavate this buried treasure about a rebel rapper who's gonna show the world that he's made of...ICE."
Yes a quality movie, from a quality DVD store.
We woke to find that our Saturday was plagued with clouds. We were to hike the mountains behind the house today and were determined not to let the questionable whether stifle our plans. We were to go hiking with one of the young doctors from the hospital Daniel. At 11pm we arrived at the hospital armed with a picnic ready to start our journey. Daniel relayed with much disappointment that he could no longer go as he had other plans that he had forgotten. Unfortunately, it would be unsafe to continue on our journey without a male and we had to abandon our plans. We ate our picnic in the house and deliberated over what to do instead.
The Trufi strike had ended overnight and we discussed making the trip into the city to see the statue of Christ perched on a hill. By this time it began to rain. We decided against climbing the hill and decided to take the cable car to Jesus instead. Tiffany have got into the habit of asking "...but do you trust a ______ in Bolivia?". We would ask this of many things serious; taxi, policeman, ATM etc and many not so serious things; fried chicken, pram, ferris wheel, chinese food? I felt that cable car fell into the more serious catergory. I made sure to inspect the integrity of the cable and pray over the cabin before we entered. At the top we made the rest of the hike up to see the statue of Christ. He loomed over us peering down watchfully protecting the people of Cochabamba.
Many bolivians took photos of the christ and then took photos of us white girls getting photos of the christ. We waited for them to open the gate to the stairwell that climbed up inside the statue. While we waited we decided to get a drink at a little cafe. Sitting in the plastic coca-cola chairs at the cafe was a bride and groom hurriedly eating a meal with their photographier. They eventually made their way up to the statue and had wedding photos with Jesus.
Finally the gate opened and we climbed up very rickety stairs first to jesus' hips, then into his stomach and finally into his chest. It was very dark inside of jesus and smelt like candy and urine...We took some photos from Jesus and then made our way slowly back down. I can now literally say that I know what it is to live in Jesus.
Our pilgrimage to Jesus had made us hungry and we made our way to a quaint little colonial style french cafe in the city. I am all for experiencing the food of that country but this place was just to cute to walk by. Cafe Paris was divine! We knew that we must have stumbled upon a good thing when we walked inside and found the cafe was full of european travellers. They sat at tables smoking and sipping coffee while playing cards, using the wireless or discussing the differences in their accents.
We found a little table in the corner and drooled over the menu. We each ordered coffee and crepes. To our surprise bolivians make incredible crepes. It was delicious! The total of the bill for this outstanding food for all for of us was less than $10US. I felt like I was ripping them off considering I had enjoyed it sooooo much! It was definetly a winner! I recommend it if any of you ever travel through this way lol
Before we left the city we found a DVD store...to our dismay all the DVDs were pirated. We found all sorts of movies there. Many that havent even been released to DVD yet. That night we watched a copy of Date Night that we bought. It was horrific quality. The sound was terrible! I felt like I was watching the movie from a great distance. We also discovered that what we thought was a copy of Step up 3 was actually another movie called Street Dance and the blurb on the back didnt match either movies. I guess it serves us right for buying pirated DVDs.
To her amazement Tiff found a DVD called 'Cool As Ice' which get this...stars Vanilla Ice. Who would be crazy enough to make a movie starring Vanilla Ice? Its byline is "When a girl has a heart of stone, there's only one way to melt it...Just add ice". Sounds like a Sundance film festival winner! Apparently it lives up to expectations and is the most unashamedly lame movie ever put to film! Tiff and Ray had discovered it and said it was full of laughs! I looking forward to it...let me share with you the literary genious of the blurb (obviously someone's opinion not the original blurb) on the DVD case...
" 'When a girl has a heart of stone, there's only one way to melt it...just add ice.' Take a few minutes to let that statement sink in people, because it makes just about as much sense as the movie does. 1991 was a big year for Vanilla Ice- aka V-ice aka Robert Van Winkle- he is already enjoying success from having rapped his way into the charts, then he made a cameo in "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Secret of the ooze" in which he performed the "Ninja Rap" on stage. Amazingly, he was denied an oscar for this brilliant freestyle musical performance, but that didnt stop Ice. He had another ace up his sleeve (though I'm sure he'd call it an "ice up his sleeve") in the form of his starring role in Cool as Ice. Sadly, for the Winkle man, it would be his last starring role as well. So let's excavate this buried treasure about a rebel rapper who's gonna show the world that he's made of...ICE."
Yes a quality movie, from a quality DVD store.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Finally feeling Useful
Day 18- Up to our elbows in Drugs
One thing that I have really struggled with since being here is the feeling of uselessness. Many warned us that a mission's trip gives you the impression that you will be a great help and service to the people you are visiting with but often, you will take away more from them than they will ever get from you. I had difficulty accepting this. There was just so much that we could do to help out here in little ways. Over the past few weeks though this statement had rung true. Although we were helping out in clinics they were something that would always go on without us. However, I was still determined to give back in some way.
Today was our first opportunity to really help out in a big way. The volunteers are responsible for running the clinics and managing the clinic materials and drugs. Because many of the volunteers had little medical knowledge the clinic materials and drugs had been neglected and were a mess of assorted items flowing from 4 disorganised boxes. We offered to sort the clinic materials and stocktake everything. Once this was organised clinics would run a lot smoother and we could establish what drugs the clinic was short of.
A few minutes into the job we realised that this was going to be a tremendous task! There was dental drugs from the stoneage, enough gauze to bandage an army, drugs over 20 years out of date, an abundance of needles but no syringes and a plaster of someone's teeth?! We sorted and labeled, grouped and listed. After 11 hours we had sorted all the clinic materials but were only half way through the drugs. Leta was delighted at the help we had been and marveled at the order we had instigated so far. It was great to use our knowledge to contribute in such a helpful way.
That night we discovered that there was a Trufi strike. Violence had erupted between two competing Trufi companies. Apparently, the companies had gone to war with eachother smashing windows and beating each other with sticks. One man came to ER with a large head laceration. He had been attacked by a a number of men from the rival company. We are unsure how long the strike will last for but will have to use the more expensive taxi's as our main means of transport until peace is restored.
One thing that I have really struggled with since being here is the feeling of uselessness. Many warned us that a mission's trip gives you the impression that you will be a great help and service to the people you are visiting with but often, you will take away more from them than they will ever get from you. I had difficulty accepting this. There was just so much that we could do to help out here in little ways. Over the past few weeks though this statement had rung true. Although we were helping out in clinics they were something that would always go on without us. However, I was still determined to give back in some way.
Today was our first opportunity to really help out in a big way. The volunteers are responsible for running the clinics and managing the clinic materials and drugs. Because many of the volunteers had little medical knowledge the clinic materials and drugs had been neglected and were a mess of assorted items flowing from 4 disorganised boxes. We offered to sort the clinic materials and stocktake everything. Once this was organised clinics would run a lot smoother and we could establish what drugs the clinic was short of.
A few minutes into the job we realised that this was going to be a tremendous task! There was dental drugs from the stoneage, enough gauze to bandage an army, drugs over 20 years out of date, an abundance of needles but no syringes and a plaster of someone's teeth?! We sorted and labeled, grouped and listed. After 11 hours we had sorted all the clinic materials but were only half way through the drugs. Leta was delighted at the help we had been and marveled at the order we had instigated so far. It was great to use our knowledge to contribute in such a helpful way.
That night we discovered that there was a Trufi strike. Violence had erupted between two competing Trufi companies. Apparently, the companies had gone to war with eachother smashing windows and beating each other with sticks. One man came to ER with a large head laceration. He had been attacked by a a number of men from the rival company. We are unsure how long the strike will last for but will have to use the more expensive taxi's as our main means of transport until peace is restored.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
The colourful Ps Nestor Hugo
Day 17- Nestor Hugo and the Evangelical Fair
There was very little for us to do in the hospital today after rounds. Tiffany and I sat in on the gastroenterologist's weekly sermon to the people in the waiting room. We didnt have Leticia with us and consequently have no idea what it was about.
After the sermon the hospital's pastor excitedly greeted us and beckoned us to come see his office. Ps Nestor Hugo is one of the most colourful and amusing character's I have met so far. He is a constant bubble of excitement. He does everything with 250% of his being. This is hilarious to watch! He often looks like he could explode with enthusiasm. He is a little intense, but a pleasure to be around. He is very interested in everything you have to say and is a very sweet, generous man. Nestor Hugo would be in his 60's and often dresses in one block colour. Once he came dressed in a green suit. This coupled with his unexhaustive enthusiasm made him appear very leprachaunish. Another time he dressed all in black and with his hairstyle of an era gone by looked just like an old latino Danny from Greece.
Nestor Hugo loves to practice his english with you. This is very difficult because his pronounciation and phrasing of words often evokes giggling. Every word is spoken suddenly and loudly, he often pronounces a word 4 different ways before settling on one that he feels most comfortable with. He phrases his english very awkwardly and substitutes with spanish when he gets stressed. I appreciate his efforts and he actually is doing very well. And of course who am I to judge with such basic spanish skills but it is very amusing...
For example, one day a very stressed Nestor Hugo appeared at the door of the guest house. After greeting Leta very enthusiastically he exclaimed with despair "I have an accident in my pants!" Leta was most shocked, what was she meant to do about an "accident" in a grown man's pants. Where was she going to get a pair of men's underwear and pants from, and how was she going to help him without embarrassing him further. As she was calculating how to deal with this delicate situation Nestor Hugo began motioning to a tear in his pants- the "accident". Leta was most relieved when she realised that this man didn't need a change of underwear after all and she was only required to fetch him a needle and thread.
If there is one thing Nestor Hugo likes more than practicing his english on you its talking about his relatives in Australia. We were dragged into his room. He generously filled our hands with lollies and biscuits and began questioning us about Australia. He dug out photos his Australian nephews and nieces, pulled a clock in the shape of Australia off the wall and made us point things out and made us test him on his pronounciation of Australian animals. Finally he asked us to tell him something he could pray for, for us. He also asked if we might pray for him. There in his office he fervently prayed for us in spanish with his 250% effort. He made Leticia write down our requests in spanish so that he could continue to pray for us. It was very kind of him and I am grateful to have such a faithful servant praying for us here in Bolivia.
That afternoon, we made our way to the Evangelical Fair. We took a trufi to Quillacolla to catch a bus that would take us to the Fair. As the Trufi bumped along the hospital's street a large funeral procession of villagers dressed in black filled the road before us. They made their way along the road following a herse covered in flowers. They were accompanied by a brass band that played a hauntingly solemn tune. They mourned over the passing of a lady only 50 years of age. She had been in an accident and had died of easily preventable complications. It was very sad to see the tears in the men's eyes and hear the harrowing cries of the women. Stuck in a Trufi that stood in their way I felt so out of place intruding on their sorrow.
The bus ride to the city was the most thrilling Bolivian travel experience yet. The bus driver seemed to be on a mission to kill us all. He did not slow down for bumps and hit each one with enough force that we lifted off our seats. He did not slow down around corners and we were thrown form one side of the bus to the other. He nearly ripped a door off another car. Children screamed and jumped out of the way as he tore down streets in the city. We all tumbled around in the bus so much that we felt sick.
The evangelical fair was a display of churches and christian aid organisations in Cochabamba. The hospital was sending the ambulance to set up a first aid station but it still hadn't showed. The fair was at a convention centre and was a series of stalls displaying their service. It was very difficult for Tiffany and I because there was so much that required translation. It was not very exciting and we were ready to go in no time. The ambulance turned up 3 hours late. We found out that they had been in a car accident and had to take the other person involved to the hospital. We got a ride home in the back of the ambulance listening to Pablo sing love songs in spanish.
There was very little for us to do in the hospital today after rounds. Tiffany and I sat in on the gastroenterologist's weekly sermon to the people in the waiting room. We didnt have Leticia with us and consequently have no idea what it was about.
After the sermon the hospital's pastor excitedly greeted us and beckoned us to come see his office. Ps Nestor Hugo is one of the most colourful and amusing character's I have met so far. He is a constant bubble of excitement. He does everything with 250% of his being. This is hilarious to watch! He often looks like he could explode with enthusiasm. He is a little intense, but a pleasure to be around. He is very interested in everything you have to say and is a very sweet, generous man. Nestor Hugo would be in his 60's and often dresses in one block colour. Once he came dressed in a green suit. This coupled with his unexhaustive enthusiasm made him appear very leprachaunish. Another time he dressed all in black and with his hairstyle of an era gone by looked just like an old latino Danny from Greece.
Nestor Hugo loves to practice his english with you. This is very difficult because his pronounciation and phrasing of words often evokes giggling. Every word is spoken suddenly and loudly, he often pronounces a word 4 different ways before settling on one that he feels most comfortable with. He phrases his english very awkwardly and substitutes with spanish when he gets stressed. I appreciate his efforts and he actually is doing very well. And of course who am I to judge with such basic spanish skills but it is very amusing...
For example, one day a very stressed Nestor Hugo appeared at the door of the guest house. After greeting Leta very enthusiastically he exclaimed with despair "I have an accident in my pants!" Leta was most shocked, what was she meant to do about an "accident" in a grown man's pants. Where was she going to get a pair of men's underwear and pants from, and how was she going to help him without embarrassing him further. As she was calculating how to deal with this delicate situation Nestor Hugo began motioning to a tear in his pants- the "accident". Leta was most relieved when she realised that this man didn't need a change of underwear after all and she was only required to fetch him a needle and thread.
If there is one thing Nestor Hugo likes more than practicing his english on you its talking about his relatives in Australia. We were dragged into his room. He generously filled our hands with lollies and biscuits and began questioning us about Australia. He dug out photos his Australian nephews and nieces, pulled a clock in the shape of Australia off the wall and made us point things out and made us test him on his pronounciation of Australian animals. Finally he asked us to tell him something he could pray for, for us. He also asked if we might pray for him. There in his office he fervently prayed for us in spanish with his 250% effort. He made Leticia write down our requests in spanish so that he could continue to pray for us. It was very kind of him and I am grateful to have such a faithful servant praying for us here in Bolivia.
That afternoon, we made our way to the Evangelical Fair. We took a trufi to Quillacolla to catch a bus that would take us to the Fair. As the Trufi bumped along the hospital's street a large funeral procession of villagers dressed in black filled the road before us. They made their way along the road following a herse covered in flowers. They were accompanied by a brass band that played a hauntingly solemn tune. They mourned over the passing of a lady only 50 years of age. She had been in an accident and had died of easily preventable complications. It was very sad to see the tears in the men's eyes and hear the harrowing cries of the women. Stuck in a Trufi that stood in their way I felt so out of place intruding on their sorrow.
The bus ride to the city was the most thrilling Bolivian travel experience yet. The bus driver seemed to be on a mission to kill us all. He did not slow down for bumps and hit each one with enough force that we lifted off our seats. He did not slow down around corners and we were thrown form one side of the bus to the other. He nearly ripped a door off another car. Children screamed and jumped out of the way as he tore down streets in the city. We all tumbled around in the bus so much that we felt sick.
The evangelical fair was a display of churches and christian aid organisations in Cochabamba. The hospital was sending the ambulance to set up a first aid station but it still hadn't showed. The fair was at a convention centre and was a series of stalls displaying their service. It was very difficult for Tiffany and I because there was so much that required translation. It was not very exciting and we were ready to go in no time. The ambulance turned up 3 hours late. We found out that they had been in a car accident and had to take the other person involved to the hospital. We got a ride home in the back of the ambulance listening to Pablo sing love songs in spanish.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
House of Love Baby Orphanage
Day 16 -Casa de Amor (House of Love)
Today we did the early morning rounds at the hospital with the assistance of an intern. Dayana took us around the hospital after the rounds and explained each patient to us slowly and clearly. This was a huge success! Finally we understood the patient's diagnosis and management.
Interns in South America are still in their final year of medicine. They work shifts for little or no pay. If you attended a private school you pay the hospital to allow you to do your internship there. They are some of the hardest working people in the hospital system and they do it for free.
Dayana is from Peru and studied in Bolivia because it is so much cheaper. When she has finished her internship she hopes to go to spain to do her specialty. She is lovely and I would really like the opportunity to get to know her better. Of course the language barrier is difficult but I feel most comfortable practicing my spanish with her.
After rounds we set out for the Casa de Amor with two interns from the hospital. Casa de Amor stands for House of Love. It is an orphanage for babies and young children. It was started by Hospitals of Hope but has since branched out on its own. It is run by a young girl from the USA. She was only 23 when she started it and it has been running for 6 years. How incredible to come to foreign country at that age and start something like this!
The house was hectic to say the least! There are approximately 20 children there from premature newborns to 3 year olds. Many of the children are multiples who's parents are unable to take care for them. Some of the children come from abusive families. One little girl is the daughter of siblings, her mother was raped by her brother. Another girl was blind because of an "accident" or infection that went untreated as a baby, she was also sexually abused by a family member. She is not even 3 years old. She was new to the house and was extremely malnourished. She is way behind in her developmental milestones and it only just learning to walk now, which is a difficult task even with the ability of sight.
The volunteers at the house are angels. There job is so demanding and stressful yet they do it with such joy. We were there for lunch time. Can you imagine feeding over 20 babies and toddlers at once? It was a marvelous mess! Many of the children develop quickly as they need to be able to function independently in this environment. Others who do not adapt so well or arrive when they are very young develop more slowly because they do not get stimulated as much as children living with parents. It was very sad to see some of the premmies left in rockers for hours just because they didnt have enough hands to hold them. We did our best to give kids the attention and love that they crave from adults. Many of the older children just long for your time and attention. We each took turns at holding the babies and hope that we made a bit of difference to the work load for the house volunteers.
When we arrived there were children on swings, children on tricycles, a set of triplets in 3 identical prams, 5 volunteers were nursing babies and more children rushed toward the entrance to greet us. It was overwhelming!
We set up the clinic and had small child after small child handed to us. We examined ears, eyes, mouths, hands and feet. We listened to hearts and lungs, felt tummies, weighed and measured and changed nappies! It was unlike any other children's clinic I had ever done before. Children's health is based around a child's observed development by parents, their family history and birth history. It is so important to have the parent there to fill in all the history details that a child cannot tell you. However, these kids have no parents. We had to do a lot of guess work.
This is such an incredible place to visit. It was very challenging. To hear about such horrific stories and consider the consequences for these little ones. We are so privelidged to have been born in a country like Australia. We are so fortunate to have a government that supports children in these circumstances. It made me question...what am I going to do with this privelidge and fortune? What are you going to do?
Today we did the early morning rounds at the hospital with the assistance of an intern. Dayana took us around the hospital after the rounds and explained each patient to us slowly and clearly. This was a huge success! Finally we understood the patient's diagnosis and management.
Interns in South America are still in their final year of medicine. They work shifts for little or no pay. If you attended a private school you pay the hospital to allow you to do your internship there. They are some of the hardest working people in the hospital system and they do it for free.
Dayana is from Peru and studied in Bolivia because it is so much cheaper. When she has finished her internship she hopes to go to spain to do her specialty. She is lovely and I would really like the opportunity to get to know her better. Of course the language barrier is difficult but I feel most comfortable practicing my spanish with her.
The house was hectic to say the least! There are approximately 20 children there from premature newborns to 3 year olds. Many of the children are multiples who's parents are unable to take care for them. Some of the children come from abusive families. One little girl is the daughter of siblings, her mother was raped by her brother. Another girl was blind because of an "accident" or infection that went untreated as a baby, she was also sexually abused by a family member. She is not even 3 years old. She was new to the house and was extremely malnourished. She is way behind in her developmental milestones and it only just learning to walk now, which is a difficult task even with the ability of sight.
The volunteers at the house are angels. There job is so demanding and stressful yet they do it with such joy. We were there for lunch time. Can you imagine feeding over 20 babies and toddlers at once? It was a marvelous mess! Many of the children develop quickly as they need to be able to function independently in this environment. Others who do not adapt so well or arrive when they are very young develop more slowly because they do not get stimulated as much as children living with parents. It was very sad to see some of the premmies left in rockers for hours just because they didnt have enough hands to hold them. We did our best to give kids the attention and love that they crave from adults. Many of the older children just long for your time and attention. We each took turns at holding the babies and hope that we made a bit of difference to the work load for the house volunteers.
When we arrived there were children on swings, children on tricycles, a set of triplets in 3 identical prams, 5 volunteers were nursing babies and more children rushed toward the entrance to greet us. It was overwhelming!We set up the clinic and had small child after small child handed to us. We examined ears, eyes, mouths, hands and feet. We listened to hearts and lungs, felt tummies, weighed and measured and changed nappies! It was unlike any other children's clinic I had ever done before. Children's health is based around a child's observed development by parents, their family history and birth history. It is so important to have the parent there to fill in all the history details that a child cannot tell you. However, these kids have no parents. We had to do a lot of guess work.
This is such an incredible place to visit. It was very challenging. To hear about such horrific stories and consider the consequences for these little ones. We are so privelidged to have been born in a country like Australia. We are so fortunate to have a government that supports children in these circumstances. It made me question...what am I going to do with this privelidge and fortune? What are you going to do?
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Dr Romer's antics
Day 15- American pop-culture has a lot to answer for
Doctors in Bolivia are not paid very much at all. Specialists may receive as little as $1000 per month. Per year that is just less than $2000US a year! This is even less than students receive on Centrelink in Australia!!! Consequently many Bolivian doctors leave Bolivia to work elsewhere. Obviously the economy is poorer here and they have more money relative to other Bolivian's. However, in comparison to the world's economy it is dismal. A year's work couldn't even buy our return tickets to Sth America!
Dr Romer is one of these doctors. He is also the medical director at Hospitals of Hope and works nights at the largest hospital in Cochabamba, Viedma Hospital. He happily shared with us this information and was interested to hear about the differences in Australia. He nearly had a heart attack when he heard what a specialist with his qualifications earns in one year; approx $250 000AUS. I felt awful! How unfair it is! It is these circumstances that lead to the phenomenon "Brain Drain" (professionals leaving their country for financal reasons). While this is a terrible situation for third world countries what alternative do they have. What are 1st world countries doing about it?
So next time you hear someone complaining about seeing a foreign doctor consider this...consider what circumstances they have come from. Rant finished! Thankyou for listening...
Today Dr Romer wanted to take us and show us Viedma Hospital. He had hoped that we would be able to see a surgery there. So we piled into his car and began the frightening journey to Viedma. Dr Romer is a 'colourful' driver, this coupled with the dangerous Bolivian roads made for a 'edge-of-your-seat' type trip to the hospital.
Dr Romer is a real character. He is one of the most warm, welcoming people we have met and he is great fun! He has a terrific sense of humour and is an incredible doctor. He seems to enjoy our company and I always look forward to anything we get to do with him. He speaks spanish and 3 other indigenous languages! However, he cannot speak english very well but is eager to learn (his 5th language! I cant even get a second one down lol). The extent of his english skills are based on video games, movies and songs. This makes for some hilarious trips!
For example, he would say when he was ready to leave " OK, Lets go!...Fight!" Lol This he had picked up from WWF. Occasionally, when the car had gone quiet he would yell "Destroy!" or start singing a BonJovi song! He shared that 10 years ago he was a big fan of BonJovi and had his haircut. Jokingly Tiff asked "Did you have the earring too?" To our dismay he replied "Yes, but mine was clip on!" Hilarious!!!
Out of nowhere he asked Leticia "Como se dice (How do you say) I am your father!" in english. A fan of star wars?? He loved madagascar and would break out every few minutes into "I like to move it, move it! I like to move it, move it!" You have to imagine all of this said very awkwardly and slowly in a spanish accent. We all had tears in our eyes we had laughed so much.
Finally he started talking about politics and saying that he wanted to "Destroy" all these minority groups. We had noted that some Bolivians can be quite racist despite the government having strong laws against racist so we couldn't tell if he was joking or not. We couldnt believe this lovely man would be so racist. He started to say "Destroy, destroy" over and over and mimed having a machine gun!! Repeating what he obviously seen in a movie. Leticia sounding horrified said "Dr Romer! You shouldn't say things like that!" But he just kept going. We looked around at eachother and started to get the giggles coz it was so random and outrageously racist. Dr Romer burst out laughing..."Haha you believed me!! What a good joke. " I have never been so relieved that someone was joking in all my life! I was starting to think we were trapped in the car with a crazy!
After an hours trip into the city centre we finally got to the hospital. Dr Romer couldn't find anyone he knew so within 15mins we left again. This is typical bolivian antics. He could have called ahead and discovered that no one was there. I think tho that he secretly just wanted to show off his english to us gringas.
On the way home we stopped for coke at a little shop. Here we discussed how things were different here. Leticia brought up how our blonde hair gets so much attention. Dr Romer expressed how rare it was. Leticia translated how my dad had wanted me to dye my hair. Dr Romer exclaimed "Oh don't do that blonde is beautiful!" in spanish, then launched into "Pretty woman walking down the street..." Lol! We would have been wierded out if it wasn't Dr Romer.
So we were off again laughing all the way at Dr Romer's limited pop-culture english. On the way home we passed a crash and Dr Romer said "oh bad." Then blurted out "Superman!" He is so random. He sung english love songs all the way home..."Where do you go, my lovely..." we tried very hard to suppress our giggling.
For dinner Leta made real american chilli and corn bread. I love that we get to experience all these foods! I loved the chilli but had always thought corn bread would be savoury and was shocked when I found it tasted like pumpkin scones. We are effectively having a Nth American/Sth American experience here in Bolivia.
Doctors in Bolivia are not paid very much at all. Specialists may receive as little as $1000 per month. Per year that is just less than $2000US a year! This is even less than students receive on Centrelink in Australia!!! Consequently many Bolivian doctors leave Bolivia to work elsewhere. Obviously the economy is poorer here and they have more money relative to other Bolivian's. However, in comparison to the world's economy it is dismal. A year's work couldn't even buy our return tickets to Sth America!
Dr Romer is one of these doctors. He is also the medical director at Hospitals of Hope and works nights at the largest hospital in Cochabamba, Viedma Hospital. He happily shared with us this information and was interested to hear about the differences in Australia. He nearly had a heart attack when he heard what a specialist with his qualifications earns in one year; approx $250 000AUS. I felt awful! How unfair it is! It is these circumstances that lead to the phenomenon "Brain Drain" (professionals leaving their country for financal reasons). While this is a terrible situation for third world countries what alternative do they have. What are 1st world countries doing about it?
So next time you hear someone complaining about seeing a foreign doctor consider this...consider what circumstances they have come from. Rant finished! Thankyou for listening...
Today Dr Romer wanted to take us and show us Viedma Hospital. He had hoped that we would be able to see a surgery there. So we piled into his car and began the frightening journey to Viedma. Dr Romer is a 'colourful' driver, this coupled with the dangerous Bolivian roads made for a 'edge-of-your-seat' type trip to the hospital.
Dr Romer is a real character. He is one of the most warm, welcoming people we have met and he is great fun! He has a terrific sense of humour and is an incredible doctor. He seems to enjoy our company and I always look forward to anything we get to do with him. He speaks spanish and 3 other indigenous languages! However, he cannot speak english very well but is eager to learn (his 5th language! I cant even get a second one down lol). The extent of his english skills are based on video games, movies and songs. This makes for some hilarious trips!
For example, he would say when he was ready to leave " OK, Lets go!...Fight!" Lol This he had picked up from WWF. Occasionally, when the car had gone quiet he would yell "Destroy!" or start singing a BonJovi song! He shared that 10 years ago he was a big fan of BonJovi and had his haircut. Jokingly Tiff asked "Did you have the earring too?" To our dismay he replied "Yes, but mine was clip on!" Hilarious!!!
Out of nowhere he asked Leticia "Como se dice (How do you say) I am your father!" in english. A fan of star wars?? He loved madagascar and would break out every few minutes into "I like to move it, move it! I like to move it, move it!" You have to imagine all of this said very awkwardly and slowly in a spanish accent. We all had tears in our eyes we had laughed so much.
Finally he started talking about politics and saying that he wanted to "Destroy" all these minority groups. We had noted that some Bolivians can be quite racist despite the government having strong laws against racist so we couldn't tell if he was joking or not. We couldnt believe this lovely man would be so racist. He started to say "Destroy, destroy" over and over and mimed having a machine gun!! Repeating what he obviously seen in a movie. Leticia sounding horrified said "Dr Romer! You shouldn't say things like that!" But he just kept going. We looked around at eachother and started to get the giggles coz it was so random and outrageously racist. Dr Romer burst out laughing..."Haha you believed me!! What a good joke. " I have never been so relieved that someone was joking in all my life! I was starting to think we were trapped in the car with a crazy!
After an hours trip into the city centre we finally got to the hospital. Dr Romer couldn't find anyone he knew so within 15mins we left again. This is typical bolivian antics. He could have called ahead and discovered that no one was there. I think tho that he secretly just wanted to show off his english to us gringas.
On the way home we stopped for coke at a little shop. Here we discussed how things were different here. Leticia brought up how our blonde hair gets so much attention. Dr Romer expressed how rare it was. Leticia translated how my dad had wanted me to dye my hair. Dr Romer exclaimed "Oh don't do that blonde is beautiful!" in spanish, then launched into "Pretty woman walking down the street..." Lol! We would have been wierded out if it wasn't Dr Romer.
So we were off again laughing all the way at Dr Romer's limited pop-culture english. On the way home we passed a crash and Dr Romer said "oh bad." Then blurted out "Superman!" He is so random. He sung english love songs all the way home..."Where do you go, my lovely..." we tried very hard to suppress our giggling.
For dinner Leta made real american chilli and corn bread. I love that we get to experience all these foods! I loved the chilli but had always thought corn bread would be savoury and was shocked when I found it tasted like pumpkin scones. We are effectively having a Nth American/Sth American experience here in Bolivia.
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