When I work on a puzzle, I have a very systematic approach to
it. First I sift through all of the
pieces pulling aside the edge pieces.
After assembling the border, I examine the picture for what I think will
be the next easiest part to put together, like a building, and pull out the
pieces for that. I continue working on
the next “easy” part until all that remains in the puzzle is the sky or grass
or leaves—the most difficult portion of the picture. Eventually, with much effort and
concentration, I finish the puzzle and admire how all of the pieces blend
together to form a beautiful landscape.
And so, as I was assembling the border this afternoon, I thought how my
life is currently like a puzzle, especially where Kenya is involved. I have this picture of what the puzzle is to
resemble, and I go about my systematic approach of pulling the edge pieces
(raising money for the trip), putting together the next easiest part (making
travel arrangements and purchasing airline tickets), and then finally I’m left
with the tough part: finding the vaccinations I need for Kenya here in Mexico.
Before Christmas Vacation, I had asked various people if
they could help me figure out how to get vaccinations in Mexico. Lulu, the secretary and life-force at my
school, called to different places and told me that the Centro de Salud down
town had all of the vaccines I needed and were open on Saturdays. So, having that settled, I didn’t look into
getting any vaccinations while I was back in the US for Christmas. Upon returning for break, I found out that
one of the teachers I work with has a father who is a doctor, and she told me
that he would be able to help me with the shots. After a few months of waiting, I found out that
he was unable to get the vaccines and it would be better to go to the Centro de
Salud. Fast forward to this last
Saturday; bright and early in the morning, this teacher friend drove me to the
clinic so we would be among the first few in line. The clinic is scheduled to open at 8am, and
we were there at about 7:20 am. The
clinic finally opened the doors at 8:15 and ushered us inside to wait for
another half hour while the nurses and staff ate breakfast. At 9:45 two staff members finally came to our
area and said that they did not have many vaccines. My friend asked if they had any of the ones I
needed, and the lady said that they had two of the vaccines but that if I was
given the Hepatitis shot they wouldn’t be able to give me the other one for a
month, and that I would have to come back during the week to get the shots and
that I would have to pay for it—a vaccine that is supposed to be free to anyone
under the Mexican health care system (of which I am a part of working for JFK),
but because I’m a foreigner they were going to charge me for it. At this point I was getting angry. First of all, why would the clinic lie to
Lulu about having all of the vaccines when they do not have it? Secondly, why were the staff members eating
breakfast and making people wait and extra 45 minutes—most of the people
waiting with me were families with small children who have other things they
need to be doing. And finally, why did
these people feel the need to take advantage of me just because I am a
foreigner? I know Mexico isn’t the only
country who takes advantage of foreigners—I know there are many people in the
US who would do the same, but it just bugs me that I am treated as a “gringa”
instead of a person.
Suffice it to say, I was discouraged and worried how I was
going to get the vaccinations I needed in order to go to Kenya. My plane tickets have already been purchased;
I can’t just not go. But I also knew
that God has brought me this far and wasn’t going to just abandon me. So my friend took me back to my apartment and
proceeded to call a hospital, and then a pharmacy, and then a local distributor
in search for the vaccines I needed. She
used her charm to persuade a man at the distribution center to actually sell us
the vaccines I needed because her father was a doctor. A few hours later the man showed up with
Hepatitis A and B, Typhoid, and Yellow Fever vaccines and sold them to me for 1,600
pesos (fairly cheap compared to the US).
The man was quite smitten with my friend and probably would have stayed
all afternoon chatting with her, but she convinced him to go. Then she called her father who came over a
few hours later and injected me with the Typhoid and Yellow Fever vaccines, and
next week I will get the first of the Hep series.
In one day I went from having no hope of receiving
vaccinations to acquiring all three in a matter of hours. There is no way I could have managed this all
on my own—I am EXTREMELY grateful for my friend and her amazing people skills
and resourcefulness.
So the pieces of the puzzle are coming together for
Kenya. I can’t wait to see the final
picture!
No comments:
Post a Comment