I'm On A Boat

Yesterday all 16 volunteers took a retreat together. It was the first time all of us were able to go on a social outing together because usually we alternate work weekends. We spent the day in Xochimilco, which is the south part of Mexico City. It's known for its canals that flow through the borough. Its most famous attraction are the Xochimilco boat rides. We all piled onto one boat and our driver propelled us though the canals using a huge stick. A whole economy exists along the canal. Boats of mariachis will pull up alongside you to serenade you. Old women in canoes prepare beers with chili and salt, complete with blessings. They're a little expensive, but supposedly they're worth it. I even saw a guy boiling water for corn on the cob using an open fire on his wooden canoe. The atmosphere amongst the boat riders ranges from a relaxing picnic vibe to party boat style. We chose the party route and had a lot of fun together. I even took part in the all-guy shirtless beer shotgun ritual. There was more than one comment of surprise from the women folk that an old man like myself would partake in such college-like shenanigans. But I did just fine after a little orientation. Good people and good old fashion fun...not my typical "nice little Sunday", but luckily I'm not too much worse for the wear on this Monday afternoon.

Perla

Perla is my youngest patient and one of my most consistent patients. She isn't a "pequena", meaning she doesn't live here at the house. She's what is called an "externa", she lives in town and her parents pay money for her to attend school at NPH rather than the public school in Miacatlan. Pati, who seems to know everyone within a 20 mile radius, introduced me to Perla's mother the first week I arrived. Perla has been unofficially diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy, which has left her with limited strength and difficulty walking. She is well known around the NPH home because of her obvious disability.

Despite being extremely shy, Perla and I have developed a good rhythm together when she comes for treatment after school. Despite very few words being spoken, she has shown increased comfort with me. She laughs more each week and now feels comfortable if her mom waits outside during our sessions. We always finish with a Wii boxing match between Perla and her sister Yeri who is in Kindergarten. Sometimes their cousin Diego comes in too and pretends like he's playing along (as seen in the picture).

Perla's mom pays me with occasional treats like fruit, yogurt or cookies. Yesterday she invited Pati and I to their home for lunch. Perla lives under an umbrella of strong women, including her aunts and grandmother. The men are either deceased or working in the United States. Perla's father works in Los Angeles, sending enough money for her to attend "private" school.

I can't help but to compare Perla to the kids in the house here at NPH. On one hand she has a mother who daily advocates for her to receive the therapy she needs. There is no way the pequenos in the house can receive this one on one attention. But at the same time Perla's mother lacks the resources to ultimately get her daughter the proper medical care she needs. Every child with a disability at NPH is followed by Shriners hospital in Mexico City. It's a complicated process that often involves social workers and a knowledge of "the system"...a task that is too overwhelming no matter how many times I mention it to Perla's mother. Honestly, it's hard to say who has a greater advantage. In the meantime Perla and I will keep plugging away.

***On a side note I'm feeling much more like myself again. I think putting it out there was good medicine. Thank you for those who expressed concern. No doubt there are bad days in life, but it gets hard when they stack up!

Halftime

Please excuse the "Exercise In Living" halftime intermission. I've been in a weird head space since hitting the 3 month point here in Mexico. I haven't felt quite like myself and needless to say, I've lacked the inspiration to write. I wish I could pinpoint something that's causing it but I can't. I'm eating well, sleeping enough, exercising almost daily, using legal substances in moderation, even taking a vitamin. So bear with me, I hope to be back in action in the near future.

Baby Jesus

Jesus is kid I've known for awhile. He's famous for coming up and saying, "Hey man!" in a classic Mexican accent. He's always injured and when he hurts badly enough, he'll come up to the clinic for some help. I started calling him Baby Jesus, partly because he likes English (and gets the reference) and partly because he whines like a baby no matter what I ask him to do. His official nickname is Chango, which is a word used here in Mexico for a small monkey. I don't really like it because it's a name they use for kids who look more indigenous. Part of the reason he's always hurting himself is that his shoes are torn up, his toes literally come out of the top. He also really likes to play soccer. When I mentioned the possibility of getting some new shoes, he would always tell me that his uncle is the lawyer for the President of Mexico, and would send him money. That never came through, but luckily my friend Park the Krazy Korean and Baby Jesus became fast friends and Park left some money to buy him some shoes. So this morning we hit the market and he picked out some shiny new black soccer kicks, which should serve him well on the slippery soccer courts here. I hope they keep him injury free.

"Wear them in good health"... famous quote by my grandma every Christmas.

"Hey, I put my new shoes on and suddenly everything is all right"... lyric by Paolo Nutini

Taxco German Style

Today I went with my friends Erika, Jane and Martin to a town called Taxco, famous for its silver mines. It's a steep curvy bus ride to reach the town. My new friend Martin who is visiting from Germany politely woke me up during the ride and asked if I had a plastic bag. Luckily I did and in stereotypical German style he stoically threw up in the bag and then went on as if nothing ever happened. The German theme continued as we explored the town in several vehicles: VW bug taxis, VW bus public transit, and a cable car ride that I believe was also made in Germany (or was it Switzerland?). We also walked our share of the steep cobble stone streets, often dodging VW bugs. It was another nice little Sunday. I spent Friday and Saturday in Cuernavaca but exploring a new place made the weekend seem twice as long.

Change Is Always Hard

It's hard to get change here in Mexico...especially if you're carrying big bills, which is usually the case when you're a high roller like myself. No, but seriously folks, when you go to the bank or ATM, you're almost always given higher denominations (200 and 500 bills). Two-hundred pesos for example is a little less than $20, and it's a struggle to find a place that will accept it without having to go up and down the block asking other vendors for change. This is understandable for people selling hot dogs, peanuts or fruit on the street, but even legit businesses like bus companies are known to make a big fuss about using a bigger bill. When I'm with a group of friends I notice that we often borrow money, not because we're out but because we haven't had the chance to break a bill. Today I had a store owner give me a discount so that he wouldn't have to give me all of his coins. In conclusion, I've learned to carry an assortment of bills and coins...and always be strategic in the order that I spend them.

Can I Check My E-Mail?

One of my first weeks here, a kid noticed my lap top and asked if he could check his email. I didn't think much of it and said yes. Little did I know that I had just stepped onto a slippery slope. Before I knew it, everyone and their brother were asking me to check their email. I quickly learned to set boundaries. There is a place and a time...and it's always conditional. The place is on the stairs below my room where we can usually catch a wireless signal. The time is 6pm, a half hour before dinner (it needs to be finite). Once the bell rings for dinner, e-mail time is over. It's always conditional because I hate to disappoint them if something at work runs late or another responsibility pops up. It's not uncommon to pass a kid during the day and they'll just say, "Tonight at 6?", to which my response is always, "We'll see."

As you can see from the picture a crowd develops once the lap top pops up...it's my most popular moment of the day. The kids sit behind eachother and critique eachother's spelling and typing speed as they hunt and peck away. They have great email addresses like, akon_silmshadypunk@hotmail.com or blinkmiguel_182@hotmail.com. The funny thing too is that most of their messages are forwards from a crazy aunt or spam mail. But I guess in this day and age checking your email is a sort of rite of passage, there's some sort of importance in having to do the act itself.

Anthropological Easter

I was ready to tear up Mexico city with my friend Park this weekend, unfortunately I was too sick accomplish my goal. It started with me almost passing out during the Our Father during the Good Friday Mass here at NPH. Despite a blood pressure of 70/60, I decided to still make the trek to Mexico City...and then spend almost 36 hours straight in a hotel room with very little energy or appetite. When I emerged from my tomb this morning, I had every intention of attending an Easter service, but they're harder to find than you might think. As an alternative I went to the Museum of Anthropolgy.

The museum is filled with artifacts, photographs and comical dioramas of primitive scenes (think junior high science project). Despite the cheesiness of the dioramas, I couldn't help but to think that the majority of my genes are wired to perform the same tasks that hunter gatherers faced thousands of years ago. Zoom in on the picture of the neanderthals fending off predators, holding rocks with their opposable thumbs (it made me think of my own instincts when I've faced packs of dogs while running here in Mexico).

During my visit I also learned a new term that has brought some clarity to my understanding of Mexican culture. The term is religious syncretism, which refers to the ways in which indigenous people incorporated Catholicism into their own religious system. This wasn't forced by missionaries but rather it came from their need to have dieties for the new tools and techniques that were brought by the Spanish. For example, Christ was seen as the creator of cattle, metal tools and money. Celebrations of Christmas and Easter also corresponded well with solstice festivities. This fluidity between the Mexican people's indigenous roots and declaration of Catholicism is still very present today. In fact I mentioned this reality after witnessing my first parade during my first week here. Personally, coming from a country where most of us are detached from our indigenous roots, this fluidity was hard to wrap my head around. People tend to draw clear lines between Catholic vs. Non-Catholic, Christian vs. Non-Christian, Believer vs. Non-Believer, Atheist vs. Pagan. In fact, the lightness with which some Mexicans hold their spiritual allegiance might have really bothered not too long ago. But I'm at a place where presently where I can appreciate it.

Fabiola

I mentioned Fabiola in the "Girl Talk" post, but she deserves her own spotlight. She had septic arthritis when she was very young, which resulted in several surgeries and a severely contracted right knee. She is by far my all star patient. In fact, I don't think she has ever missed a session. Not only has she been consistent, but she has been an excellent student of what it takes to care of her joints and her body in general. She calls me "maestro", which means teacher. The truth is that she has been one of my best teachers. If I prounounce something incorrectly she makes me repeat it until I get it right. My friend Park picked up on this and has been coming up to the clinic during her sessions for tutoring sessions while she does her exercises. She's incredibly patient.

She's a special kid. One day my Spanish was flowing better than normal and she stopped me before she left and said, "I'm so proud of you Maestro, you've improved so much!" In addition to the physical benefits she received from therapy, I've noticed an increased confidence in her. From what I understand she's had some self esteem issues in the past and these days she seems much more self assured. I'm proud of her too.