Man over machine...

I have a lot to report. Since my last post, I've bounced from Quetzaltenango to Guatemala City, to San Jose Costa Rica, to Madrid, to Barcelona, then to Frankfurt, and finally landed here in New York. I've debriefed in the MSF offices in Guatemala, Barcelona, and New York. I've officially survivied my first mission!

Unfortunately, my camera and laptop are not as lucky. Both are sick with viruses, I presume. I cannot post pictures, and I can't even open my computer without beeps and and flashes and warnings that my system is vulnerable. I was on the phone with the Dell Software Tech for SEVEN hours on Sunday. It was an heroic effort, but when we said our goodbyes she said "your machine is deeply infiltrated." I'm writing now on a borrowed computer. This is just another example of human triumph over machines, I might add (remember the Matrix?). I am in great shape, but the gadgets couldn't survive the demands of their first mission with MSF.

More details and pics when the gadgets are repaired or replaced...

Más Semana Santa

I stumbled onto an even more bizarre procession today in the Maya village of Zunil. This one featured young men dressed up as Marvin the Martian, complete with blond wigs, sunglasses, and multicolored cap feathers. No rayguns. This ceremony hardly looked like Catholicism to me, but when I asked an old lady about the occasion, she said "Semana Santa."

The truth is that I am a little tired of Semana Santa (everything is closed; very stressful for a New Yorker), but I could not resist posting these pictures. The colors are spectacular, no?

Semana Santa

So it turns out that Semana Santa (Easter week) is a big deal here in Quetzaltenango. All the businesses close down mid-week and everybody heads to the central plaza. Artisans make murals out of dyed sawdust on the street.

There are many processions through the city. These parades have a stronger ceremonial feel than their North American counterparts, such as a 4th of July or Macy´s Thanksgiving Day parade. I suspect it has something to do with the religious element. I thought about asking the people standing next to me to explain what was going on, but that ugly Jews-killed-Jesus business always seems to come up this time of year. I kept my big mouth shut.

My observations: the processions are dominated by the purple-robed people. The elders line the crowd and clear the way for the statue-bearers. The statue bearers are younger purple people, charged with lugging the heavy statues of Jesus et. al. through the streets. White-clad incense bearers scuttle back and forth between statue bearers.

Then come the girls in bridal veils. In the procession this morning, the girls carried a sign that said "virgins." The virgins were followed by the buff statue-bearing ladies (not pictured). The band brings up the rear, playing somber religious numbers.

I thought the general tone was somber, but most of my fellow on-lookers appeared to be in high spirits. Ice cream was the most popular snack this morning. Last night there was a lot of elote-eating (corn-on-the-cob), which is served dripping with mayonnaise, ketchup, and hot-sauce. I scarfed down a few pupusas. Pupusas are corn tortillas filled with cheese, beans, and/or pig, with cabbage salad and spicy sauce on top.

They are a staple in El Salvador, but popular here in Guatemala too.

Goodbye Dreamteam...

This is the last pic I snapped of our Puerto Barrios team. From left, Jose Luis (doctor, Patagonia Argentina), Àngeles (logistician, Cadiz Spain), Conrado (nurse, Medellin Colombia), Nell (spaz, nomadland), Nuria (nurse and coordination, Canary Islands Spain).

I miss them already. Trying hard to detach on my vacation. Nuria´s head is blocking out my new beefy phisique.

Dysphoric No More

Over the past several months, I have been feeling increasingly certain that the username "Dysphoric" no longer suits me. This is a very good sign, ¿no? Sure, I want to paint it black most of the time, and I´m usually the most cynical voice in the conversation. But what about all the good times? How can somebody who has so much fun call herself dysphoric? I may just quit my often overwhelmingly sad day job and try my hand as an aging rock-star (pic at left on air drums during car ride to Coban, Alta Verapaz).

So, I kill you off, dysphoric. I now go by the name nomad. Funny-- all I had to do to feel better was escape the NYC psychiatrists for a year (no offense Susan, Tanya, Andrea...)

Vacation

I took this from the main plaza of Zunil, a contemporary Maya village near Quetzaltenango.

The green tree-like thing at right is part of the Semana Santa festivities. Everybody is carrying around palm-type leaves. I´m not sure why.

Below right is a mask shop in Chichicastenango.

New Atul Gawande Collection

Is there anything Atul Gawande can´t do? He works as a surgeon at one of the most prodigious academic hospitals in the world; he has published dozens of fascinating medical-related essays in the New Yorker, his second book is about to hit the shelves, and he is the father of three undoubtedly brilliant and beautiful children. All that, plus great taste in music! The New York Times discusses his second book and ipod playlist today.

If you have not read any of Gawande´s essays, I recommend that you correct that ASAP. His first collection, Complications, is widely available. Or, click here to read Naked, a short essay about the physical exam that was originally published in the New England Journal of Medicine in 2005.

I am on vacation, by the way. In addition to coveting Atul Gawande´s talent, I am catching up on book reviews online and exploring the Western Guatemalan highlands.