samedi 25 novembre 2017


What is the nationality of this man, who is saying his Shabbat Brachas in a Moslem country with a glass of wine (sorry it was a white wine from South Africa, rather than the required Red!)

 You dont have to cross Borders to become a Doctor without Borders, even though this indefatiguable Mexican Doctor, Dra Estela Rosales from Muzquiz and Piedras Negras had crossed into the Kickapoo territory in Texas.

With the Portugese speaking Ticuna from Benjamin Constant, Brasilian Amazonia.

A Doctor without Borders with a group of Indigenas sin/sim Fronteras/Fronteiras
When people ask me what is that I do, trying to figure out my way of life, I evoke Doctors Without Borders. That venerable institution, one of the founding forces behind it, all of them were French, was the Jewish Doctor just completing his studies in Medicine in Paris in 1968, Bernard Kouchner, who would later become the Foreign Minister of France. He said: It is very simple, Go Where the Patients are. Don’t worry about the Borders:  Medicins Sans Frontieres. Or Doctors without Borders. Cuba has an excellent, possibly the best, record of Humanitarian Medicine around the world, I applaud them.
While they went to Biafra, Nicaragua, Honduras and other war torn or places with natural disasters, my destinations are usually calm and I usually visit indigenous people and instead of Treatment I am far more interested in their Culture and how to use it for prevention of Diseases.
Imagine trying to explain why I was in Rapa Nui, soon after visiting beautiful Minnesota with its thousand lakes and friendly people. Now I am on my way to Barranquilla where my colleagues, doctors and psychologists attending a Conference on Reproductive Health, do not yet know my dinner plans for them.
I normally do not identify myself as a Doctor, if pressured about my wandering professional style; I would say I am an Anthropologist. Most people seem to be satisfied with that answer, much like the life of the fictitious Maqroll, my alter ego, brought to life by the late Colombian writer, Alvaro Mutis. I do not easily open myself for examination of the symbolism of my persona. Like Maqroll, I too work hard to stay away from the mean spirited hypocrisies of the convictions of the bourgeoisie, which has spread around the world with the new colonization of the mind, the Globalization.
As I am interested in promoting Cuba, conversations would include that country and its lovely people, otherwise well used passport(s) bear no resemblance to the symbolic references to my ancestry, place of birth or place of growth, and the current strong connection to the future through yet another language.
It was the director of Museu Maguito in Benjamin Constant in Brasilian Amazonia who reminded me: I speak Portugese, but I am a Ticuna. The Colombian Ticuna identify with their Indian Country rather than the Colombian Nation, the same applies to Peruvian Ticuna. We are Ticuna first and last, they tell me. They all speak their language, so they do not become dependent (or remain colonized) in the language of their conquistadores, to connect with each other. Across the Amazon, a Brasilian Ticuna can connect with a Colombian or Peruvian Ticuna but may not be comfortable with other Brasilians or Colombians or Peruvians. The school at Nazaret, where my some of my Ticuna friends live teach the youngsters the culture of Ticuna in the language of Ticuna. To them speaking Ticuna among themselves seem natural.
My Kickapoo sister, Mena, once told me, when we were living in Mexico we did not become Mexican, so I don’t see why we should identify ourselves are American when we are living in USA?
So this Doctor without Borders is already looking forward to his return to Nazaret, possibly in January, to his return to the Ticuna, the Indians without Borders in the Amazon.