I had come to Buenos Aires to visit a good friend of mine, whom I had known in La Habana, Cuba. He works as a front line doctor in the peripheral urban hospital at the municipality of Quilmes at Solano.
He invited me to go with him and we set off from Flores, the heavily commercial and formerly jewish neighbourhood of Buenos Aires.
You can reach this hospital from Flores by public transport, it may take two hours, with a combination of Train, Bus and Tram etc. We requested an Uber and you could see that most of the drivers did not wish to go there, far and unsafe but in the end a Venezuelan immigrant took us. the ride took nearly one hour.
Flores is a very eclectic area. While specks of elegance of the past could be seen in remnant architecture and also in cafés like the Clapton, the area is heavily commercialized with a visible presence of outsiders (the future of the commercialized world): Bolivians, Peruvians, Chinese, Koreans, turbaned Sikhs from India and "Senegalese" which I think is a generic term for anyone with dark skin from West Africa who camp out in the pavements with stacks and stacks of their merchandise , cheap and fake, made in China. I was reminded of such a scene from Cotonou in Benin
A Dominican hairdresser and his Peruvian client.
From this chaos of a futuristic vision of an unequal world, we travelled deep into the Argentine history. As minutes went by, decades were being stripped off the facade of Argentina.
Donkey driven carts began appearing alongside motor cars. One could easily be arriving at a less propitious suburb of an Ecuadorian town or a poor town in Mexico (faces here are mostly of mostly European people!, some looking at you with onerous intentions)
Poverty is the common denominator. with it comes lack of access, to paths to prosperity in the future. Amidst what might be judged as desolation and desperation, by standards of the World Bank or biased visitors, one could meet a group of dedicated professionals who keeps the definition of what is it to be a doctor, what is it to be of service and what is the essence of medicine.
Entrance to the hospital at Solano, Quilmes
Dont exhibit your iphone, I was advised, it might disappear
I felt very humbled by this visit. Even though I practise humanitarian International medicine, in front of these doctors and nurses, my star dims, they are the true humanitarian international medical providers, at great personal sacrifices to bring relief to a very nearly marginalized population.
As I was being shown around the hospital and the clinics, i had the feeling of being back in the places that I had worked. this one reminded me of the University hospital in Jamaica.
Every single person I met was warm and greeted me and welcomed me.
When I am in such a place, my immediate reaction is to get down and help with my diagnostic skills. The best was yet to come.
I was left behind at the Doctor's common room while my friend was attending patients and this gave me an ample opportunity for participant observation as a Medical Anthropologist.
The first thing to note was the electric atmosphere of warmth and collegiality and no sense of hierarchy. Every one brimmed with enthusiasm.
I could imagine the kind of medical dilemmas and confusions they are facing and how they are managing to provide relief, comfort and cure to those who arrive at these doors of the hospital.
there was easy flow of friendship and conversations. There was no tension caused by the workload on the other side of the door to the entrance to the doctor's common room.
I closed my eyes and imagined a doctor's common room in miami, usa
obviously there would be symbols in the room of the wealth of the country, those things are only soul-less symbols which betray the tension of the room. The hierarchy would be evident between doctors, nurses and auxiliary personnel and there would be arguments and complaints and questions. In fact those rooms are usually used as a space to let out frustrations and personal character deficiencies.
The exchange of conversations in this room at an peripheral area of Buenos Aires were flowing smoothly. One of the doctors had cooked a chicken stew and there was camaraderie and joy as we shared our humble portion as if there was a big fiesta.
As Eugene Delacroix, the french painter had remarked: people remember you for the relief of pain you offered them.
the gift of a material matter evaporates soon, can you remember who gave you what gifts? but you will not easily forget a gift of kindness, a gift of time and a gift of relief of pain and anxiety.
This is what these heroes do, whenever they can, however well they can.
I respect them for it . My heart felt good that i share the same noble profession at these proud humble grateful people in this corner of Argentina, their proud country.
My own small contribution was to help my friend in the interpretation of some blood studies on an asymptomatic patient with high lymphocytes in his blood.
It was a special day for me I thank you and dedicate this blog to the heroes at work at the hospital and clinic at Dr Oller Francisco Solano in the municipality of Quilmes outside the city of Buenos Aires in Argentina
Back to the cacophony of Flores
A comment from a close friend in Florida Dr MW
