Jungle Clinic

The elderly Quechua man hobbled into our clinic supported by two canes. He wore a "Franklin L. Williams Middle School, Class of 2007" shirt, doubtless a donation from the US which obviously did not suit his 98 years. Although walking was a struggle for him, he slowly made his way around the room, greeting all of the volunteers and waiting patients personally. He spoke only Quechua, and his hearing was very poor, so our communication was mediated by a translator shouting into his ear.

This man was one of the 30 patients we treated at our clinic on Saturday in the Chapare, the Bolivian jungle 6 hours from Cochabamba and a major center of cocaine production. Patients began showing up an hour before the clinic was to start, having walked for miles from their homes in the countryside to see the doctor.

Some of these patients had waited too long for medical care. One girl came in with an infection in her foot from a thorn that had punctured her big toe over a month before. Because the infection was so severe, our doctor could only give her antibiotics and a referral to a surgeon in a nearby city. Many came in with vitamin deficiencies, and we gave out shots of vitamin B12 like candy. A few came in with chronic headaches, and, while we gave them pain medication, we also gave them an anti-parasitic drug and instructed them to visit a nearby hospital for neuroimaging. In that part of the country, neurocysticercosis (brain lesions from a parasitic infection) are very common.

The treatments we could offer in a one-day clinic were limited, but we did what we could. It's hard to see so much need and only be able to meet a small part of it. Even in cases where we were able to offer a complete solution to the medical problems presented, we knew we could not even begin to address the poverty we saw all around us.

As we drove home that night, we passed by wooden shacks with light pouring through the cracks between the boards. No light escaped from others, probably because they didn't have electricity.

Despite this, our volunteers were struck by the joy they saw on the faces of those we treated and in the pastor we stayed with and his family. The pastor explained to us that things used to be much worse in the Chapare, in the years past when the drug trade was at its height. Despite the money circulating through the region, the area was less developed, and there was less hope. God has been working there, he explained to us, and he participates in this work every day by broadcasting the gospel in Spanish and Quechua on his radio station. He has opened his home for volunteer teams, like ours, who are able to alleviate, to a certain extent, the physical needs of many there.

Although what we are doing seems very little, it is part of the light breaking into the darkness in Chapare. Like the homes we saw spreading light into the jungle, we are spreading rays of our Father's love. Right now, the light seems dim, but we know that one day, the night will shine like the day.