Raquel on the catwalk

Written Aug 20th


Rio sucio is a river community. Flooding is not something new here. The houses are built already elevated to, hopefully, accommodate the river water as it gets in. As our house cleaner said, it is just like Venice; except that instead of romantic gondolas, there are leaky old canoes with small motors attached (boat-taxi), and instead of beautiful arquitecture, there are very poor wood houses, infested with rats. I asked her why don’t people move to some place higher ground, and she replied that everything floods around here. But I think it is more than that. The people have a unique relationship with the river here, and their lives literally revolve around it.

On my boat ride to the clinic I can observe that lifestyle very clearly: the little kids running around naked and bathing on the river with their siblings playing in it, while the women scrub their clothes clean; somebody is peeling vegetables and washing it on the river, somebody else is getting water with a big basin, and so on.

Walking around town is a real skill. Some places have raised “catwalks” made of wood boards supported very precariously by more loose wood. I now understand where the name catwalk came from. One has to really be a cat to navigate them with any grace. I am no cat, and looked quite ridiculous trying to walk and not fall on the water. If I looked up to the distance ahead of me I would start to panic. So instead I had to concentrate on each step while doing it, specially when you get to the middle of the board, which is quite bouncy. Somehow I managed to stay dry.

Today I went to the clinic and started to get acquainted with the way things work and how things are done here. The last bit of the evening I spent with the GP, observing the consults. It was just after the power went down, and with it, the fans. The ObGyn also had to stop, since his ultrasound machine powered off. The room where the GP worked was by far the hottest in the place, with the sun hitting a window by his desk right on. I was melting and couldn’t stop complaining about it. He just kept patiently mopping the sweat of his forehead with a towel in between questions to his patients. The water was also not working, so he patiently rubbed some alcohol on his hands between patients instead of washing them. I admired his patience. It was getting late and I know he barely had time to eat anything today. How many doctors could function in these conditions and still keep a cool, patient and professional attitude…

The patients are many, and the issues very sad to hear about, sexual violence being among them. Fortunately MSF offers not only medical help here, but also psychology and social services.