Saturday, April 26, 2008
April 18, 2008
There’s a monster gecko in the living room, a grasshopper the size of my hand in Florence’s bedroom, and a dead bat in the bathtub. We have to keep the bathroom door shut with a magazine to keep the bats roosting in the roof from coming down through the ceiling and into the rest of the house. The bats have been in the roof for who knows how long and the weight of their droppings has caused the ceiling to sag in the upstairs bathroom. Apparently some bats get lost in the bathroom and are unable to get out. I can hear their high squeaky voices at night when they are going out to hunt for food. My closet has three holes in the ceiling and droppings on the floor, so I keep that door shut too.
A short tour of Makuma village brought us to the pharmacy. As the local clinic had a mean nurse who didn’t like to give out medicine or help the villagers, the local church had set up a small pharmacy with the help of the missionaries. The little shop was run by the preacher’s wife, Diana, who was receiving training in health education.
Within minutes a man came in with a dead scorpion dangling between two sticks. He had been bitten on the stomach while picking up a bundle of straw with the creature inside. He showed us the welt on his stomach from the stinger. A six month old baby had already died this year after being stung by a scorpion. Deaths from scorpions seemed to be going up, although it was unusual for the sting to be fatal in an adult. Diana handed over the proper medicine.
There’s a monster gecko in the living room, a grasshopper the size of my hand in Florence’s bedroom, and a dead bat in the bathtub. We have to keep the bathroom door shut with a magazine to keep the bats roosting in the roof from coming down through the ceiling and into the rest of the house. The bats have been in the roof for who knows how long and the weight of their droppings has caused the ceiling to sag in the upstairs bathroom. Apparently some bats get lost in the bathroom and are unable to get out. I can hear their high squeaky voices at night when they are going out to hunt for food. My closet has three holes in the ceiling and droppings on the floor, so I keep that door shut too.
A short tour of Makuma village brought us to the pharmacy. As the local clinic had a mean nurse who didn’t like to give out medicine or help the villagers, the local church had set up a small pharmacy with the help of the missionaries. The little shop was run by the preacher’s wife, Diana, who was receiving training in health education.
Within minutes a man came in with a dead scorpion dangling between two sticks. He had been bitten on the stomach while picking up a bundle of straw with the creature inside. He showed us the welt on his stomach from the stinger. A six month old baby had already died this year after being stung by a scorpion. Deaths from scorpions seemed to be going up, although it was unusual for the sting to be fatal in an adult. Diana handed over the proper medicine.
Angelita
The first patient of the day was Angelita. It had been 8 months since she had sat up. She was between 40 and 46 years old, but she wasn’t sure because she didn’t know when she had been born. She had severe rheumatoid arthritis wih severe hip and knee contractures, and couldn’t reach her hands to her mouth because the joints in her shoulders and elbows had disintergrated. She spent all her time living on her back in a small windowless shack on a raised platform bed with a hole dug in the floor for a cooking fire. She had a board on her platform bed that could be slid out to open a hole through which she voided while lying on her back. She could inch along on her back like a worm to move to the side or up and down on her small platform.
Her 7 year old daughter was now in charge of taking care of her. Her daughter lit the fire, cooked their meager meals, and washed and cleaned her. With the help of Florence we sat her up for a few minutes each day. By the last day she could sit for half an hour independently. I instructed Norma, the missionary, how to help her with exercises and she was going to talk to Hugo, Angelita’s brother, to try to get him to help her sit each day. Angelita had a long disused wheel-chair, and hopefully with the brother’s help she could get up to the wheel-chair and out of her windowless room.
Her 7 year old daughter was now in charge of taking care of her. Her daughter lit the fire, cooked their meager meals, and washed and cleaned her. With the help of Florence we sat her up for a few minutes each day. By the last day she could sit for half an hour independently. I instructed Norma, the missionary, how to help her with exercises and she was going to talk to Hugo, Angelita’s brother, to try to get him to help her sit each day. Angelita had a long disused wheel-chair, and hopefully with the brother’s help she could get up to the wheel-chair and out of her windowless room.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
4/17/08
I ate breakfast with 3 chickens and a turkey. Two chicks and a hen pecked around my feet as I scooped my forkfuls of rice. The turkey gobble-gobbled by the front door as the chickens hopped from tables and benches, milling about in the kitchen in search of left over food. Morning breakfast with Esteban consisted of a hard boiled egg, plate of rice, and some fresh lemonade. After this meal we began his exercises and tried out the new crutches. The crutches worked beautifully and Esteban was able to not only walk outside on the damp earth, but up and down the stairs in his main house.
“El primero vez en diez y siete meses”, he kept repeating over and over. “The first time in 17 months.”
Needless to say he was overjoyed. We took a picture from the second floor window to record the historic moment. Esteban had been living in the kitchen for about a year as he couldn’t climb the stairs to reach his room on the second level. Now he planned to move back into the main house tomorrow. He didn’t want to leave. Fresh breezes blew through the house and the air was clean. Back in the kitchen everything smelled of smoke and accumulated a light dusting of ash.
Upon leaving for the return trip to Makuma, Esteban and his wife Rosa presented us with gifts. She gave us two beautiful hand made clay bowels and a necklace made from the seeds of fruit. After kissing them on the cheeks, we headed back through the mud to Makuma.
I ate breakfast with 3 chickens and a turkey. Two chicks and a hen pecked around my feet as I scooped my forkfuls of rice. The turkey gobble-gobbled by the front door as the chickens hopped from tables and benches, milling about in the kitchen in search of left over food. Morning breakfast with Esteban consisted of a hard boiled egg, plate of rice, and some fresh lemonade. After this meal we began his exercises and tried out the new crutches. The crutches worked beautifully and Esteban was able to not only walk outside on the damp earth, but up and down the stairs in his main house.
“El primero vez en diez y siete meses”, he kept repeating over and over. “The first time in 17 months.”
Needless to say he was overjoyed. We took a picture from the second floor window to record the historic moment. Esteban had been living in the kitchen for about a year as he couldn’t climb the stairs to reach his room on the second level. Now he planned to move back into the main house tomorrow. He didn’t want to leave. Fresh breezes blew through the house and the air was clean. Back in the kitchen everything smelled of smoke and accumulated a light dusting of ash.
Upon leaving for the return trip to Makuma, Esteban and his wife Rosa presented us with gifts. She gave us two beautiful hand made clay bowels and a necklace made from the seeds of fruit. After kissing them on the cheeks, we headed back through the mud to Makuma.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Into the jungle
4/16/08
The rain began to fall softly at 7:30 am and didn’t abate until 2:30 pm. Florence, the Welsh nurse, and I spent the entire morning waiting for a flight out of Shell to Makuma. Although the planes can fly in the rain, they need clear sight of the mountains for take off. The dismal cloud cover had refused to budge all morning, and our flight was threatening to be cancelled when the weather began to improve. Once the rain stopped, the sky cleared and we were given clearance to fly. After weighing ourselves and our luggage, as well as grocery supplies for Norma and Jim Hedland, we quickly boarded the small plane and departed with our jungle pilot.
It took 25 minutes in our little Cessna 6 seater to arrive at the soft green landing strip of the jungle station. We passed over the meandering Rio Pastaza en route and could see isolated jungle villages dotted along the banks and slopes of the Amazon as our plane flew south. The expanse of the jungle was amazingly vivid from the lofty height of our tiny plane. The canopy stretched as far as the eye could see in a rolling sea of green with little to break or punctuate it. A few scattered clouds floated over the tree tops and every now and then a river or road broke the patterned jungle quilt. With a wide sweeping curve, keeping the mountains to the east, we flew over the small village of Makuma and then descended into the green.
The rain began to fall softly at 7:30 am and didn’t abate until 2:30 pm. Florence, the Welsh nurse, and I spent the entire morning waiting for a flight out of Shell to Makuma. Although the planes can fly in the rain, they need clear sight of the mountains for take off. The dismal cloud cover had refused to budge all morning, and our flight was threatening to be cancelled when the weather began to improve. Once the rain stopped, the sky cleared and we were given clearance to fly. After weighing ourselves and our luggage, as well as grocery supplies for Norma and Jim Hedland, we quickly boarded the small plane and departed with our jungle pilot.
It took 25 minutes in our little Cessna 6 seater to arrive at the soft green landing strip of the jungle station. We passed over the meandering Rio Pastaza en route and could see isolated jungle villages dotted along the banks and slopes of the Amazon as our plane flew south. The expanse of the jungle was amazingly vivid from the lofty height of our tiny plane. The canopy stretched as far as the eye could see in a rolling sea of green with little to break or punctuate it. A few scattered clouds floated over the tree tops and every now and then a river or road broke the patterned jungle quilt. With a wide sweeping curve, keeping the mountains to the east, we flew over the small village of Makuma and then descended into the green.
Road to Makuma
The guesthouse was only a short walk away, but we only had time to drop our main bags and deposit the groceries in a rusty refrigerator before changing into our boots and heading off on foot for the town of Achuentsa, where my first patient lived. As we headed out the door we saw the 3 dozen eggs we had so carefully packaged and transported lying smashed at the bottom of the porch steps. A skinny brown dog named Rambo looked sorrowfully up before tucking his tail between his legs and slinking away. Shirley, the cook at the Makuma guesthouse surveyed the damage with her hands on her hips.
“I think we can save them”, she said.
In no time at all she had whipped out a spatula and scooped the unbroken egg yolks off the pavement and into a yellow bowel. The 3 second rule suddenly had a whole new meaning. As I was quickly to learn, absolutely nothing was wasted in the jungle. Shirley had been in Makuma for 5 weeks and was helping to provide for the Hedlands, who were trying to finish a project translating the Bible into the Shuar language.
Makuma is a village inhabited by the Shuar Indians. The Shuar are a sub-tribe of the notorious Jivaro warriors, who were famous for their practice of shrinking the heads of their enemies after battle. Although many peoples through out the world have taken the heads of their enemies, the Jivaro are the only ones to practice head shrinking. The shrunken heads are called tsantsa. In addition to the Shuar, the Ashuar, the Aguaruna, and the Huambisa are also sub-tribes of the Jivaro .
The name "Jivaro" shares its roots with the word savage. This named was originally assigned to the indians of the South East orient of Ecuador by the first European explorers to become aware of their existence. Jivaro is the name that linguists and anthropologists have assigned to the Amazon tribes who share the same language with slight variations in dialect. The historical center of the Jivaro was in Macas, Ecuador. Makuma is three hours by foot from Macas. After the Spanish conquest the Jivaro migrated south, eventually occupying territory in what is now Peru. Currently the Jivaro occupy nearly seven-and-a-half million acres of jungle land along the Peru-Ecuador border.
Currently, Florence and I were migrating east on the jungle trail, led by a young girl with a 5 month old baby wrapped in a red shawl and slung around her hips. She was guiding us over the muddy path to the home of Esteban Sando. I had first met Esteban in the hospital about 6 weeks ago. An expressive man, with wide gesturing arms and a constant toothy smile, he had been paralyzed by TB of the spine over a year ago. He had been receiving TB medication and was experiencing an amazing recovery. When he first began treatment he was bedridden and unable to move. When I first saw him in the hospital he had recovered strenth in his arms and legs, but had no coordination and had not walked in a year. We walked down the hall that first day jolting from side to side with the aid of a walker. I gave him coordination and balance exercises and promised to come see him in the jungle as his next hospital appointment was 3 months away.
We had two crutches with us to trial with Esteban and Florence quickly got mired in the mud and lost both crutch tips in the muck. The recent rains had caused a bog of mud on the path. The villagers placed long tree trunks into the mud to raise themselves above the sucking clay. They were adept at skirting along these slippery balance beams carrying not only children and babies, but their produce and parcels too. Florence and I weren’t quite as agile and it took us 1 ½ hours to go the normally 45 min distance.
We arrived at the home of Esteban with 3 skinny dogs and a large gobbling turkey in full display. The turkey edged toward us snorting air through it’s beak and making threatening head shakes. I’d never been stalked by a giant turkey before and kept my distance. We were ushered into the open air frame and thatch of the kitchen where we sat down to talk with Esteban. Smoke poured through the blackened doorway of the back kitchen where Esteban’s wife Rosita was cooking in typical fashion with a sooty pot sititng in the center of three burning logs. My eyes were stinging from the smoke and my throat was burning before we were shown our quarters. Uncharacteristically, Esteban actually had rough wooden frame beds complete with a sheet, a pillow and a blanket depicting tweetie bird and Sylvester the cat.
Dinner that evening consisted of chicken soup with yucca and a banana drink. Dinner finished we found the trail to “El baño sin casa”, “the toilet without a house” ,or more specifically “hole in the ground”, and settled down to await the morning.
“I think we can save them”, she said.
In no time at all she had whipped out a spatula and scooped the unbroken egg yolks off the pavement and into a yellow bowel. The 3 second rule suddenly had a whole new meaning. As I was quickly to learn, absolutely nothing was wasted in the jungle. Shirley had been in Makuma for 5 weeks and was helping to provide for the Hedlands, who were trying to finish a project translating the Bible into the Shuar language.
Makuma is a village inhabited by the Shuar Indians. The Shuar are a sub-tribe of the notorious Jivaro warriors, who were famous for their practice of shrinking the heads of their enemies after battle. Although many peoples through out the world have taken the heads of their enemies, the Jivaro are the only ones to practice head shrinking. The shrunken heads are called tsantsa. In addition to the Shuar, the Ashuar, the Aguaruna, and the Huambisa are also sub-tribes of the Jivaro .
The name "Jivaro" shares its roots with the word savage. This named was originally assigned to the indians of the South East orient of Ecuador by the first European explorers to become aware of their existence. Jivaro is the name that linguists and anthropologists have assigned to the Amazon tribes who share the same language with slight variations in dialect. The historical center of the Jivaro was in Macas, Ecuador. Makuma is three hours by foot from Macas. After the Spanish conquest the Jivaro migrated south, eventually occupying territory in what is now Peru. Currently the Jivaro occupy nearly seven-and-a-half million acres of jungle land along the Peru-Ecuador border.
Currently, Florence and I were migrating east on the jungle trail, led by a young girl with a 5 month old baby wrapped in a red shawl and slung around her hips. She was guiding us over the muddy path to the home of Esteban Sando. I had first met Esteban in the hospital about 6 weeks ago. An expressive man, with wide gesturing arms and a constant toothy smile, he had been paralyzed by TB of the spine over a year ago. He had been receiving TB medication and was experiencing an amazing recovery. When he first began treatment he was bedridden and unable to move. When I first saw him in the hospital he had recovered strenth in his arms and legs, but had no coordination and had not walked in a year. We walked down the hall that first day jolting from side to side with the aid of a walker. I gave him coordination and balance exercises and promised to come see him in the jungle as his next hospital appointment was 3 months away.
We had two crutches with us to trial with Esteban and Florence quickly got mired in the mud and lost both crutch tips in the muck. The recent rains had caused a bog of mud on the path. The villagers placed long tree trunks into the mud to raise themselves above the sucking clay. They were adept at skirting along these slippery balance beams carrying not only children and babies, but their produce and parcels too. Florence and I weren’t quite as agile and it took us 1 ½ hours to go the normally 45 min distance.
We arrived at the home of Esteban with 3 skinny dogs and a large gobbling turkey in full display. The turkey edged toward us snorting air through it’s beak and making threatening head shakes. I’d never been stalked by a giant turkey before and kept my distance. We were ushered into the open air frame and thatch of the kitchen where we sat down to talk with Esteban. Smoke poured through the blackened doorway of the back kitchen where Esteban’s wife Rosita was cooking in typical fashion with a sooty pot sititng in the center of three burning logs. My eyes were stinging from the smoke and my throat was burning before we were shown our quarters. Uncharacteristically, Esteban actually had rough wooden frame beds complete with a sheet, a pillow and a blanket depicting tweetie bird and Sylvester the cat.
Dinner that evening consisted of chicken soup with yucca and a banana drink. Dinner finished we found the trail to “El baño sin casa”, “the toilet without a house” ,or more specifically “hole in the ground”, and settled down to await the morning.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Notes from the jungle
April 15, 2008
Notes from the jungle.
Tomorrow I will be flying out with a nurse to the jungle station of Macuma. There is a couple there, the Hedlands who are working with the Shuar Indians to translate the Bible into the Shuar language. They will be my hosts in Macuma and are the link between the Indian tribes and Shell. I have been corresponding with Norma Hedland for information on what is needed in Macuma and thought her insights and thoughts might find some interest with my readers.
Tell Barb who wishes to do therapy with the sick ones here that it is fine that she come, and any time, but to let us and the people around know her plans. Tell her to plan to stay at Ankuashes for a night or two and see his situation, then return here and she can sleep in the Guest house and do therapy with the two gals here. (Have her plan to bring her food, as we are
on a huge deadline with SIL over the scriptures so will not be entertaining these weeks. Also tell her that if she waits until after the 9th or so, then another gal would be in the Guest House for 5 weeks and could help feed her, etc. We don't have her exact dates of arrival yet, so we should keep in touch with barb. Going back and forth across the river would be more work than it is worth. Tell Barb that his sons, 4 or 5 of them all live right there, plus Raul is in shouting range, so he has an army at attention, you might say! He will walk with them as he has been trying to do. He was so excited about his therapy when he arrived today and told us all about it.
It will be easy for Ankuash to have walking poles put in place so he can go between them and sit at each end. He is planning that. He is also going to have a tall table made for standing to eat and read. It can all be done in a matter of minutes and would be fin for Barb to see how easily they can make tables and benches.
That's it for tonight - rain bugs out - see you next week. Let Kerstin know of your coming and maybe the food I ordered with her can come then. Thanks.
Norma
Dear Barbara,
Greetings from Makuma. We know that you would like to visit here and see two or three patients, and we like that idea. When do you time? And can we coordinate it with their care-givers? - are the two questions we have.
Esteban Ankuash Sant Pauch wants you to know that he is walking between his sons each day, always a bit farther and better. And he navigates the steps almost alone now. He had urinated three times without the sonda by last Tuesday and was very happy about that progress. He cannot get his toes to pick up paper yet but works at it. Nor has he found a tough rubber to use for strengthening his legs. He would like you to come when you can before you leave. And he wanted me to write you this news, saying ask her what else do I do now?
Angelita Tsenkush, the crippled arthritic woman in her forties could use help putting up exercise ropes, etc. as she is now in her own little house. She told me today to tell the nurses that she cannot use her right hand for writing hardly at all and has terrible pain there and in other places in spite of the meds she takes each week - the small yellow pill. She hardly
gets up in the wheelchair these weeks.
The other patient Sandra -----? (forgot her last name) is not here right now as she was in such pain yet that her family took her to Macas - but I saw her husband last week and he hopes he can have her home by the time you would come.
Well, let us know what you think as to dates. We have place you can stay while here. Ankush wants you to come to his house for over night and we think that would be good too. Do what you want!
See you or hear from you soon, Norma Hedlund
Dear Manuela,
Cuando Huente lluega la proxima vez a Shell, favor de hacerle ir al Hospital Vozandes para hablar con Barbara Walker, la fisioterapista. Tal vez ella pueda ayudar con la punta de las maletas. Hable con ella para saber cual is lo mejor y si ella tiene o no.
Dear Barbara,
Manuela works in Puyo and is president of the Women's Waorani organization. Her brother lost his leg in a fishing accident as a boy. He still lives in the jungle and has been maneuvering thru the jungle trails with these crutches for several decades. Well, I guess this is his second or third pair now. He actually walks out on jungle trails, that I would not attempt with both legs. Needless to say, he wears out the tips of the crutches unusually fast. He has creatively made some from various jungle materials, but they don't last. He saves his best ones for when he comes to town. If you could possibly help him find some good sturdy ones that would be great.
Thank,
Miriam
(Miriam is a nurse who works with many different jungle tribes through out the pastaza region. She is another link for the Indians with medical care and works hard to get them the help they need)
Hi Barbara,
Hope you have been able to check on flights from there as I haven't been able to from here and we are not aware of a Friday one. As to how much time you may need with the patients, I don't know what to say there. I would think an overnight will work for Esteban Ankuash. Angelita could use someone working with her every day for weeks!! She so needs to get motivated about it all but we pray that you will have some ideas about how
to set up a rope and exercise bar. In fact, bring along some rope that would work for that if you can. Ours here is rather thin or very heavy.
Ankuash will be so happy for the elastic/rubber for his legs.
About what else to bring, we are wondering if you would mind buying some groceries for us that we would pay you for? Hope our list doesn't make you collapse!
It is:
2 dozen eggs
Matches - a package of small packages would be great
Pack of T.P.
"Virginia" liquid dish soap
Bag of corn meal- polenta
1 or 2 pounds of raisens
3 heads lettuce
5 pounds tomatoes
10 maracuya - passion fruit
1 chicken - whole chicken works best
Hope this is not a burden. Even if you decided to walk in, this could come
in on Monday's flight.
Thanks much,
Norma
Barb,
You will have a better reception with the people here if you dress like a woman while among them. It may seem legalistic but that’s where this culture is at present. You will probably see plenty of young girls in pants or shorts but it is not appreciated by the majority and your Christian testimony will be more readily received if you dress appropriate to the culture. If you need such I have skirts you can borrow while here. It would be wise and helpful if you are able to bring your own overnight supplies for visits with the Shuar. That might include sleeping needs like a mat and bag or blanket and a net.
Speaking of more supplies is there any chance you might be able to find a bag of course ground corn meal and a bag or two of parmesan cheese?
We will meet you at the plane but doubt that we will have any bells on.
Notes from the jungle.
Tomorrow I will be flying out with a nurse to the jungle station of Macuma. There is a couple there, the Hedlands who are working with the Shuar Indians to translate the Bible into the Shuar language. They will be my hosts in Macuma and are the link between the Indian tribes and Shell. I have been corresponding with Norma Hedland for information on what is needed in Macuma and thought her insights and thoughts might find some interest with my readers.
Tell Barb who wishes to do therapy with the sick ones here that it is fine that she come, and any time, but to let us and the people around know her plans. Tell her to plan to stay at Ankuashes for a night or two and see his situation, then return here and she can sleep in the Guest house and do therapy with the two gals here. (Have her plan to bring her food, as we are
on a huge deadline with SIL over the scriptures so will not be entertaining these weeks. Also tell her that if she waits until after the 9th or so, then another gal would be in the Guest House for 5 weeks and could help feed her, etc. We don't have her exact dates of arrival yet, so we should keep in touch with barb. Going back and forth across the river would be more work than it is worth. Tell Barb that his sons, 4 or 5 of them all live right there, plus Raul is in shouting range, so he has an army at attention, you might say! He will walk with them as he has been trying to do. He was so excited about his therapy when he arrived today and told us all about it.
It will be easy for Ankuash to have walking poles put in place so he can go between them and sit at each end. He is planning that. He is also going to have a tall table made for standing to eat and read. It can all be done in a matter of minutes and would be fin for Barb to see how easily they can make tables and benches.
That's it for tonight - rain bugs out - see you next week. Let Kerstin know of your coming and maybe the food I ordered with her can come then. Thanks.
Norma
Dear Barbara,
Greetings from Makuma. We know that you would like to visit here and see two or three patients, and we like that idea. When do you time? And can we coordinate it with their care-givers? - are the two questions we have.
Esteban Ankuash Sant Pauch wants you to know that he is walking between his sons each day, always a bit farther and better. And he navigates the steps almost alone now. He had urinated three times without the sonda by last Tuesday and was very happy about that progress. He cannot get his toes to pick up paper yet but works at it. Nor has he found a tough rubber to use for strengthening his legs. He would like you to come when you can before you leave. And he wanted me to write you this news, saying ask her what else do I do now?
Angelita Tsenkush, the crippled arthritic woman in her forties could use help putting up exercise ropes, etc. as she is now in her own little house. She told me today to tell the nurses that she cannot use her right hand for writing hardly at all and has terrible pain there and in other places in spite of the meds she takes each week - the small yellow pill. She hardly
gets up in the wheelchair these weeks.
The other patient Sandra -----? (forgot her last name) is not here right now as she was in such pain yet that her family took her to Macas - but I saw her husband last week and he hopes he can have her home by the time you would come.
Well, let us know what you think as to dates. We have place you can stay while here. Ankush wants you to come to his house for over night and we think that would be good too. Do what you want!
See you or hear from you soon, Norma Hedlund
Dear Manuela,
Cuando Huente lluega la proxima vez a Shell, favor de hacerle ir al Hospital Vozandes para hablar con Barbara Walker, la fisioterapista. Tal vez ella pueda ayudar con la punta de las maletas. Hable con ella para saber cual is lo mejor y si ella tiene o no.
Dear Barbara,
Manuela works in Puyo and is president of the Women's Waorani organization. Her brother lost his leg in a fishing accident as a boy. He still lives in the jungle and has been maneuvering thru the jungle trails with these crutches for several decades. Well, I guess this is his second or third pair now. He actually walks out on jungle trails, that I would not attempt with both legs. Needless to say, he wears out the tips of the crutches unusually fast. He has creatively made some from various jungle materials, but they don't last. He saves his best ones for when he comes to town. If you could possibly help him find some good sturdy ones that would be great.
Thank,
Miriam
(Miriam is a nurse who works with many different jungle tribes through out the pastaza region. She is another link for the Indians with medical care and works hard to get them the help they need)
Hi Barbara,
Hope you have been able to check on flights from there as I haven't been able to from here and we are not aware of a Friday one. As to how much time you may need with the patients, I don't know what to say there. I would think an overnight will work for Esteban Ankuash. Angelita could use someone working with her every day for weeks!! She so needs to get motivated about it all but we pray that you will have some ideas about how
to set up a rope and exercise bar. In fact, bring along some rope that would work for that if you can. Ours here is rather thin or very heavy.
Ankuash will be so happy for the elastic/rubber for his legs.
About what else to bring, we are wondering if you would mind buying some groceries for us that we would pay you for? Hope our list doesn't make you collapse!
It is:
2 dozen eggs
Matches - a package of small packages would be great
Pack of T.P.
"Virginia" liquid dish soap
Bag of corn meal- polenta
1 or 2 pounds of raisens
3 heads lettuce
5 pounds tomatoes
10 maracuya - passion fruit
1 chicken - whole chicken works best
Hope this is not a burden. Even if you decided to walk in, this could come
in on Monday's flight.
Thanks much,
Norma
Barb,
You will have a better reception with the people here if you dress like a woman while among them. It may seem legalistic but that’s where this culture is at present. You will probably see plenty of young girls in pants or shorts but it is not appreciated by the majority and your Christian testimony will be more readily received if you dress appropriate to the culture. If you need such I have skirts you can borrow while here. It would be wise and helpful if you are able to bring your own overnight supplies for visits with the Shuar. That might include sleeping needs like a mat and bag or blanket and a net.
Speaking of more supplies is there any chance you might be able to find a bag of course ground corn meal and a bag or two of parmesan cheese?
We will meet you at the plane but doubt that we will have any bells on.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Day 1
March 31st, 2008
Day 1
It has begun!!! At approximately 9am on Monday morning a loud knocking could be heard coming from the far corner of the hospital grounds. I went to investigate and found that the hired contractor for the clinic building had begun knocking holes in the ground with a large steel spike and a very large rock.
The corners of the clinic space were marked and blue lines were attached to wood sticks to mark the height of the new floor and foundation. This process took most the day and yielded various holes in the existing concrete and a few well positioned markers.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start! Yipee!!!
Day 2
Javier, the head maintanence guy, had come over to inspect the work of the contractor’s men on the clinic site.
He backed up his big truck and ran over the well positioned wooden sticks.
“Half a day’s work and you run over it!” yelled one of the contractor men.
I found it amusing that the head maintanence man was the one wreaking havoc on the work site. I guess that’s the beauty of using sticks and stones, there’s always more around.
Day 3
The edge of the sidewalk behind the cafeteria is disappearing. The men are cutting it with a ceramic saw to make room for the new clinic wall. It appears that what they said was a three foot block of cement under the sidewalk is really only about six inches. Clay colored dirt is now apparent where the sidewalk has been cut. They will place a metal frame in the cement as a bridge over the dirt to support the wall.
“This will be strong enough to support a wall?”, I asked.
“Claro”. “Of course”, was the answer.
Javier comes up to me and asks if it is OK to cut the roof of the cafeteria. Apparently the new roof of the clinic will cross over onto the cafeteria roof and there is not room. Javier’s next question was whether or not I was going to change the location of the toilet in the clinic. They are going to be putting the plumbing in before the foundation is laid and they need to know the exact location of the toilet to proceed.
Woah! Now things are moving a little too fast! Where is Arthur the administrator for these types of questions? Well he’s in the states it turns out.
I hope he gets back quick before they cut the roof.
Day 1
It has begun!!! At approximately 9am on Monday morning a loud knocking could be heard coming from the far corner of the hospital grounds. I went to investigate and found that the hired contractor for the clinic building had begun knocking holes in the ground with a large steel spike and a very large rock.
The corners of the clinic space were marked and blue lines were attached to wood sticks to mark the height of the new floor and foundation. This process took most the day and yielded various holes in the existing concrete and a few well positioned markers.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start! Yipee!!!
Day 2
Javier, the head maintanence guy, had come over to inspect the work of the contractor’s men on the clinic site.
He backed up his big truck and ran over the well positioned wooden sticks.
“Half a day’s work and you run over it!” yelled one of the contractor men.
I found it amusing that the head maintanence man was the one wreaking havoc on the work site. I guess that’s the beauty of using sticks and stones, there’s always more around.
Day 3
The edge of the sidewalk behind the cafeteria is disappearing. The men are cutting it with a ceramic saw to make room for the new clinic wall. It appears that what they said was a three foot block of cement under the sidewalk is really only about six inches. Clay colored dirt is now apparent where the sidewalk has been cut. They will place a metal frame in the cement as a bridge over the dirt to support the wall.
“This will be strong enough to support a wall?”, I asked.
“Claro”. “Of course”, was the answer.
Javier comes up to me and asks if it is OK to cut the roof of the cafeteria. Apparently the new roof of the clinic will cross over onto the cafeteria roof and there is not room. Javier’s next question was whether or not I was going to change the location of the toilet in the clinic. They are going to be putting the plumbing in before the foundation is laid and they need to know the exact location of the toilet to proceed.
Woah! Now things are moving a little too fast! Where is Arthur the administrator for these types of questions? Well he’s in the states it turns out.
I hope he gets back quick before they cut the roof.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
The call of the wild
March 24, 2008
I could hardly contain myself, I was actualy squeeling! I don’t think I’ve ever squeeled before. The sound being emitted from the vocal cords did not sound the least bit familiar. This was definitely not a good sound to make while you were out bird watching. But there it was, I could see it with my own eyes, and it wasn’t behind the bars of a cage or in the collection of a zoo. I was looking at a real live toucan, a mountain toucan to be exact, out in the cloud forest of the Bella Vista reserve.
I could see him cock his head to one side as if listening to the tree and the insects living inside. He would then take a couple hops and plug his long black and yellow beak into a hole. I could see yellow encircling his eyes, a blue feathered body, and a red tuft at the base of his tail. There were two of them hopping about the long arms of the tree, tapping here and there, and flapping up and down the trunk to new perches. I couldn’t believe how excited I was to see a bird. I’d always wanted to see a Toucan. Such a strange bird, but so beautiful, and tutti frutti and fruit loops had nothing to do with it.
I saw wonderful birds with magnificent names. I saw the sickle winged guan and the common potoo. The masked trogon and the crimson-mantled woodpecker. Azara’s spinetail and the streaked tuftedcheek. The green and black fruiteater and the streak-necked flycatcher. The smoke-colored pewee, the rufous-headed pygmy-tyrant, golden-crowned flycatcher, and grey-breasted wood-wren. The turquoise jay, blackburnian warbler, and russet-crowned warbler. The spectacled whitestart, grass-green tanager, dusky-bush tanager, blue and black tanager, blue-winged mountain tanager, tricolored brush finch, and the giant cowbird. I know their names because my trusty field guide, Iris from Germany, named them for me and showed me their pictures from the field book.
The hike had started out very hum drum. Green plants, muddy earth, another wet hike through the now familiar jungle. But then the quiet began to envelope me and I felt the clouds blanket and pull me in. Sounds became magnified and the sea of green took on wild and fantastical shapes behind the curtain of misty wet fog. I heard the sharp call of a bird sounding exactly like a tea kettle. There was the high pitched timbre of the humming bird, and the flap of wings high up in the foliage. Leaves as large as child and bright red plumeria and pink dripping flowers. The cloud forest had come alive.
I could hardly contain myself, I was actualy squeeling! I don’t think I’ve ever squeeled before. The sound being emitted from the vocal cords did not sound the least bit familiar. This was definitely not a good sound to make while you were out bird watching. But there it was, I could see it with my own eyes, and it wasn’t behind the bars of a cage or in the collection of a zoo. I was looking at a real live toucan, a mountain toucan to be exact, out in the cloud forest of the Bella Vista reserve.
I could see him cock his head to one side as if listening to the tree and the insects living inside. He would then take a couple hops and plug his long black and yellow beak into a hole. I could see yellow encircling his eyes, a blue feathered body, and a red tuft at the base of his tail. There were two of them hopping about the long arms of the tree, tapping here and there, and flapping up and down the trunk to new perches. I couldn’t believe how excited I was to see a bird. I’d always wanted to see a Toucan. Such a strange bird, but so beautiful, and tutti frutti and fruit loops had nothing to do with it.
I saw wonderful birds with magnificent names. I saw the sickle winged guan and the common potoo. The masked trogon and the crimson-mantled woodpecker. Azara’s spinetail and the streaked tuftedcheek. The green and black fruiteater and the streak-necked flycatcher. The smoke-colored pewee, the rufous-headed pygmy-tyrant, golden-crowned flycatcher, and grey-breasted wood-wren. The turquoise jay, blackburnian warbler, and russet-crowned warbler. The spectacled whitestart, grass-green tanager, dusky-bush tanager, blue and black tanager, blue-winged mountain tanager, tricolored brush finch, and the giant cowbird. I know their names because my trusty field guide, Iris from Germany, named them for me and showed me their pictures from the field book.
The hike had started out very hum drum. Green plants, muddy earth, another wet hike through the now familiar jungle. But then the quiet began to envelope me and I felt the clouds blanket and pull me in. Sounds became magnified and the sea of green took on wild and fantastical shapes behind the curtain of misty wet fog. I heard the sharp call of a bird sounding exactly like a tea kettle. There was the high pitched timbre of the humming bird, and the flap of wings high up in the foliage. Leaves as large as child and bright red plumeria and pink dripping flowers. The cloud forest had come alive.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
