This week I went to the municipality called Guajiquiro in the La Paz Department. As my final outreach with the clinic, I found it fitting to be one of my favorites. The community is located 3000 feet up in the remote mountainside. Along the way, we passed horseback riders, school children, and women carrying large containers of produce on their head. Many of the houses had their gardens, varying in size and crops. While talking with patients I learned that their houses typically don’t have electricity, plumbing, or a floor. After arriving at our host family I quickly noticed that I was considerably taller than the community. The ceilings, bathrooms, and beds were all “just a little too small”. It was slightly charming to feel like Will Ferrell in Elf.
Our outreach took place in a half-constructed church. The pews were wooden planks propped up on adobe bricks, the ground was dirt, and the door was a combination of sticks to keep cattle out of the building. We saw around 60-80 patients throughout the morning, many walking several miles to be there. Some patients rode horses and others carpooled in the back of trucks. Watching patients slowly trickle in made me think about the sustainability of rural health services. The western view of medicine has created a supply and demand system. In order for a full-time clinic to be established, it must be profitable. If not supplied by private funds, it needs to seek other sources (government, donations, international). For countries in economic crisis, such as Honduras, there must be a radical change in the system which we adhere too or additional sources of funding must be found. The inhabitants of Guajiquiro have little disposable income. While shadowing a cataracts patient consultation, his first concern was money. It felt good to reassure him that his surgery would be covered by the Zoe Health Clinic. Without our ability to absorb his costs, I wonder if they would ever receive treatment. Furthermore, at what cost can a non-profit continue to provide temporary health services? Also, what is the end goal of rural health? How much how rural health should be mobile and how much should be permanent? As I think more about these, I feel a natural interest in city planning growing. Hopefully, I will be able to explore these ideas in the upcoming year.
I woke up to the lovely sound of roosters at 5 A.M. As I tried to drift back to sleep they would continue to call like two competitive people tying to have the last word in a conversation. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were simple meals, all prepared from scratch. I woke to tortillas, eggs, and beans. For lunch, we ate tortillas and bean soup. To end our day we were offered rice, beans, avocado, and a small portion of chicken. Knowing that there are no nearby supermarkets, the chicken must have come from their own personal farm, both heartwarming and disheartening.
We stayed with the hosting church’s pastor and her family. On the property, I met a 5-year-old named Brian. We played soccer together on the slanted grass field in front of their house. The goalposts were made from sticks and the field was littered with piles of cow and horse scat. We took turns shooting on each other and chasing the ball after one of us scored. His desire to play with me made my whole week. I am inspired by children. In all situations, they have a love for nonsensical ideas and perseverance to withstand most challenges. If we aren’t trying to make our world better for them, who are we trying to better?
Coming back from this trip we stopped at a coffee/banana farm. We harvested three bunches of bananas and I tried raw coffee beans (it did not taste good). Similarly, I tried dragonfruit for the first time. I am most grateful for the escape from the city. After living here for a little under two months, it is easy to forget other lifestyles. As I am routinely reminded by my supervisor Alex Flores, “Keep life simple.”