today ... I've
morning. breakfast. soon we must go to the center for colera.ci call a colleague. came to the rescue of the injured (not serious) in a car accident a half-hour machine. she is going in the opposite direction. can not go back. need a car (preferably with a doctor) to retrieve them and bring them to the hospital. I realize that I was the only doctor. fuck! it's my turn. ok let's go. I take a jeep and driver and head. rocket! Haitians cross
landscapes. amazing! Caribbean Sea. bright green mountains. one after the other small villages. multi-colored houses and stalls. walls covered with inscriptions and drawings. of all kinds. Caribbean vibrancy. and then markets for bananas and coal improvised roadside. in the street would say. attended two or three quasi-investment of pedestrians crossing the dick (without looking nda).
arriving on site. all quiet. a tap tap (Haitian traditional public transport) reversed. cared for three kids sitting by my colleague.
a scratched
a hit on the head
a possible fracture
loading, distributed them. U-turn hospital management. we arrive at our hotel. exceeding it. we arrive at the roadblock, usually deserted. Today we are waiting for the blue helmets of United Nations. fuciloni flattened. make us pull over. Instantly: skin whitening
face
drop of cold sweat that line the temple
poop in pre-release
see the logo of the organization.
-is a doctor! - Say-let go-big smiles and thumbs up. let us pass. I smile a bit 'nervous. I also thumbs-up.
and go well, American!
take the main road to the hospital. Slow down faster
we stop we stop? a lot of people before us. scooters, cars, everything. nobody can move. a later event. all blocked. we reverse the fatigue and change your route through narrow alleys of the center. chaos and goods on display at every corner. finally I see the market. and I feel the characteristic smell. we take an even narrower street. on the right side a huge hole. make us sign waving his hands.
too late. The driver, mortaccisua, we shall enter in full with the front wheel. blocked. first, in reverse, nothing to do. the wheel going round in circles. raises a cloud of smoke. burning smell. we are stuck in the road surrounded by what I would call a puttanaio of people.
with rationality and calmness that I distinguish, I think, ok we're screwed!
but no. a dozen people began to lift the jeep in front of us and pull out of the ditch! roll down the window and thank you in Creole. smile and wave.
before we finally arrive at the hospital. before the closed door. play and knock. nothing. on the left, approaching the procession of protesters. are about thirty meters. an impressive crowd. beginning to get nervous, even though it seems a fair pacifica. venti metri. aprite cazzo!!! finalmente ci aprono ed entriamo. parcheggiamo e scarichiamo i feriti davanti al pronto soccorso (che purtroppo è proprio come me lo immaginavo!). parlo con il personale per spiegare l'accaduto. ma a questo punto non possiamo più uscire. la folla ha raggiunto l’ospedale. ci sono urla. volano schiaffoni. aspettiamo con calma al sicuro dentro all'ospedale. seduto all’ombra vengo salutato da un paio di ragazze che stanno pulendo il viale d’accesso al pronto soccorso. dal nulla iniziano ad accusarmi di essere arrivato insieme ai miei amichetti bianchi e di aver comprato tutta l’isola. mi difendo come posso nel mio ancora-basico creolo. l’autista mi difende a spada tratta.
nel Meanwhile outside the hospital is calm returned. we can move on. back to the center for cholera changing road a thousand times. as a pac-man to escape the crowd that continues to walk the streets of the city.
finally arrived. front, the sea. wonderful view.
are 10.30. you get to work!
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