Todosantoseno Triage

On Monday morning I woke up at Don Alberto's house with something in my eye. Chile? Salt? Volcanic rock? Small animal? I have no idea what it was, but I have never known so much pain! I took out my contact lens, to no comfort. My guide offered to poke his finger into my eye in an attempt to extract the particle, but I declined.

There are no roads from where we were staying to San Todos Santos Cuchumatanes, the nearest town with a hospital. As such, my guide and I literally ran the last eight miles out to Todos Santos, me whimpering pathetically practically the entire way. I'm sure the countryside was amazingly beautiful, but I was in so much pain that I paid it absolutely no mind.

However, going to a Guatemalan hospital was an important and informative cultural experience. Upon seeing the line, filled with babies screaming, bleeding people and all manner of broken elderly folk, stretching around the block, for I opted for the private clinic. There, they chard me Q250 ($35) up front and found me a doctor in under five minutes. While I was pleased with the service, it was a painful reminder of the stratification of society and access to medical care here, and in the States for that matter.

The hospital was exactly as I would imagine hospitals were in the States in the 1940s. The exam room was sparsely furnished, with gray metal and green vinyl fixtures. There was a strong scent of alcohol and anesthetic. My nurse was dressed in a white dress and cap, with a little red cross on the cap and sleeve. Since I couldn't see very well, I closed my eyes and imagined the scene in black and white. I half expected to walk into the hallway and see Ricky Ricardo, pacing, waiting for Lucy's baby to be born.

As for medical care, they decided to anesthetize my eye and flush it out with water with a six gauge syringe. Needless to say, it's a little unnerving to open your eye and see a syringe just millimeters away. My eye felt much better afterwards, although I still couldn't see.

I stumbled around Todos Santos half-blind, blending in suspiciously well with the stumbling half-drunks. As in the States, the indigenous people here are incredibly prone to alcoholism. By the end of market day, its hard to make your way around the unconscious campesinos, machetes in hand, lying in the street.

In addition to being impressed with the Todosantosenos' drunkenness, I was was very taken by their dress. Here the men's costumes are more eye-catching than their female counterparts. They wear these thick red and orange striped trousers, with an heavy black sash tucked through the belt that hangs between the legs. Purple shirts, with red details, were most popular. However, due to my temporary blindness, I didn't get to see too much and I was unable to take any photos, so this photo comes to you courtesy of Corbis.