What else can go wrong?
If our MSF project, here in Uraba, was a reality TV show, it wouldn’t lack in drama. Aside from the obvious drama involved in the work we do, what goes on backstage is sometimes just as intense. This last mobile clinic was a good example of that.
Juin Puubur is an indigenous community close to the boarder with Panama in the middle of thick jungle. The only way to get there is by a small river that is shallow and difficult to ride. We had been trying to get in there for several months, but always something would happen that made us cancel our plans. The latest was that two dead bodies showed up in the river a cpl of days before we planned on going, and the rumors were that they were left there for days. So obviously, for security reasons we waited for things to cool down. Last week we decided to try again. One of our nurses got sick and couldn’t go but we thought we could do it with one less.
We wake up early the day of our departure, everybody excited to go and our community boat arrives. Great, right? Exept that the boat is too small... Scramble, scramble, rent another boat, load up the boxes, ready, right? That’s when Pilar, one of our nurses walks in holding one eye, looks like she scratched her cornea with some sort of brush. All right… deep breath, two nurses down, but we can still fix this. Replace her with one of the nurses from our team in Riosucio, wait for her to pack her stuff, tic tac, tic tac, it is getting late, ready, right? Now the psychologist is down… not feeling well either. Ok, no psychology this time, let’s go, get on the boat start the engine, go, I want to feel the wind fast on my face… where is the wind? Look around…why are we going at a snails pace? One of the boats has a 15HP motor, someone informed me… all right, maybe we will make it there next week… Let’s just keep going, ok? Why are we stopping? The engine of our boat is making a weird noise. “We have to go back” Paco announces. “You’ve got to be kidding me” I am thinking. We turn around. The good news is that there was a spare motor at the office, the bad news is that it was a piece of crap. Thanks to some brilliant business man up higher on the chain of command, we’ve got this thing that costs like 2 thousand dollars less and that you have to stop every 15 minutes to change some nail or something (Pasador, as they call it). It was like going on a Dacar rali with a motor home. Forget about making it there next week, we’ll be lucky if we get there next month!
At least it was not raining and the thick forest protected us from the hot sun. Getting out of the boat to push the canoe up the shallow parts of the river was refreshing (although freaking dangerous). This was by far the hardest river I have had to get through. My feet would just sink on the mud, almost up to my knees, which would put the water at my waist level while I am trying to push the boat. One, two, three, puuush… careful so I don’t get squished or squish somebody between the boat and the tree trunks. Careful walking with the hidden logs under the water. Watching for snakes, especially on top of trees that can jump into the boat (it has happened before). “ Communities geographically isolated and with difficult access” they had told me about the work here before I came. “F’ing right!” I thought to myself, now keep pushing.
Despite all odds we made it there by 5:30 in the afternoon, wet, tired but happy, and all the little kids surrounded our boats to see what they could help carry, which helped me renew my spirits. The place was very nice, with the exception of the largest number of cockroaches I have seen in my life and with the fact that there was no bathroom. We set up our hammocks on this large tent while the bats flew by.
The next day, as we weighted and measured the children, I was happy to find out that there actually is at least one indigenous community in Columbia with children well nourished. They were also very organized. We vaccinated and offered consults for two days and things went very well despite all predictions that something terrible would happen. The way back was not any easier, but after a lot of chain sawing and pushing, and despite our motor home, I mean, boat engine, we made it back in one piece, looking forward to our next adventures.
