What A Difference A Day Makes

24 little hours

I could have written 20 different versions of this email if I'd checked in as the day
evolved.


I'd like to start this tale with my preferred, "everything is o.k., but..." It isn't.
So instead, I'll start with, "None of your fears or concerns about my trip here have
been realized, and I am o.k."  This is true.

The day was full of indecision and false starts, much of which had to do with the
condition of a village this group usually visits. Colonia Suyapa is an inorganic
community of people who were hurricane refugees thrown into proximity by circumstance
to form a new village. No gel. No lasting unity (it seems) developed. This village
had been organized by a small church group. Church people departed recently due to
community indifference.
Enter chaos. Or... At least an element of Unknown, and around here at this time,
Unknown isn't likely to be a good thing.
Discussion, debate and strategy. All angles and options discussed.
No one wants to walk into a potential slaughter or kidnapping. So we stalled until
solutions evolved. Because really... we know very little.

We decided to ask local scouts to go and assess. (That sounds awful and sacrificial
as I write it, but it wasn't.) The rest headed to the hotel in Puerto Cortes to
unload, reorganize, and plan the afternoon clinic.
And so, an hour-ish drive from SPS, we arrived to a Sunday at the beach, the
Caribbean bathtub-warm and thick with happy families enjoying a nice splash.
Our hotel is immediately across the street from the sea.

I can't drag this out.
One of our Doctors died.
Of a heart attack.
Shortly after going to his room.
With several medically trained people here, CPR and other procedures were implemented
immediately. I ran relay and helped with information. The front desk clerk needed a
few swift kicks to the face before she could be persuaded to phone for an ambulance
again (they weren't answering the phone.). In fact, likely it wouldn't have mattered.
Noble and heroic effort was made to revive him, to no avail.

This brings us to 3pm.

And so we sat. And tried to plan to ... Return the body to his family in Los Angeles.
A task I hope none of us or you are set to again.
It was decided that we would abort the trip.
And then... Maybe not.
And then we had to.
And then not.
And... It turns out, you can't overnight a corpse. Shipping from Honduras: 5-7 days.
So... Some would stay.
Hotel and flight reservations were negotiated, booked, cancelled again, and again.

I went for a walk in the water for some space.... But not alone. It was fine. We
walked within sight of the hotel and 500 families.

The Bishop of Honduras was coming.
The Embassy personnel were coming (scratch that, it's Sunday).
The priests were coming.

At 7pm, the priest came. I invited her to sit by me. She looked like my Grandma Cel
and I felt very drawn to her. More still once we spoke.  I was sad to see her drive
away this evening.

Over dinner, more evolution. (Truthfully, I had never wanted to leave. But I was
having difficulty deciding to stay in this troubled spot on my own.)
Some would leave. And did.
Others would stay, but avoid the problematic village and hold clinics at the others.
And we shall. Though now we only have Pediatricians. And one of those is leaving too.
And then there were 2.
But... Now I am not needed as a Translator (in the same capacity) which means that
I'll be able to switch roles and work.... (No, don't be afraid, not as a Dr.) either
in the dispensary or in-take. Both would be interesting.
And so it shall be.
Maybe.
Unless something changes.
So... With the caveat that all of my predictions and plans may be moot when next you
hear from me, this is where things stand.
And while this morning we were 19, this evening we are 14, and one dead.
But not like you thought it might happen.

I'm hoping for a good sleep tonight.