The Amazon Medical Project

Monday, 16 March, 2009

The first step toward the new clinic was to clear and burn the land, an activity which was delayed by a heavy and prolonged rainy spell. Then, we needed to gather a total of 150 shungos for the clinic’s foundation, and get them planted before Jon shows up in Peru in January. His idea was that with the shungos in place and the floor beams set on them, he would have a spot off the ground to stash the huge pile of supplies, building materials, and tools that he would be purchasing upon his arrival. We had already agreed that the residents of Las Palmeras would be offered the opportunity to provide the shungos. I could not recall what we last paid for them, but it seemed to me it was around S/.6.0 a meter.
However, when Edemita got back to me, she said our neighbors were asking S/.10.00 a meter. This seemed a mite high, but hey, what do I know? A little checking revealed that the going price is still S/.6.0 in most places. I compromised by telling Edemita we would offer S/.8.0 a meter, in order to help the local economy.

Early March, 2009

            The Rotarians were due to arrive on February 2, and start working the next morning. Golbert and his cement crew were already hard at work on a cement sidewalk across the front of the building, around to the back entrance, and boy, is it a beauty. A total of three truckloads of sand went into it, along with 120 bags of cement, all of which had to be purchased in Iquitos, shoveled into bags, hauled (one bag at a time) down to the port, hauled again to boats, brought downriver and unloaded at the construction site. The transport cost more than the materials. But Golbert’s cement finishing skills are impressive, and the sidewalk is gorgeous, and will be highly useful.
            On January 31, a huge load of cement board and gutters and lumber came down from the city. However, the luck which had kept the early phases of the clinic construction roaring along was about to run out. There was a lot of wood, but it was all dimension lumber. Planks would be necessary to build the floor.
Then, Jaime Acevedo, in Explorama’s office in Iquitos, worked a miracle, finding a whole load of fine lumber (tornillo, a durable, handsome, close-grained wood) which was dried and sanded and ready to go, and which could serve both as floorboards and as siding. The wood arrived the following morning, and was unloaded with the help of 23 local men. Two hundred more boards turned up in the afternoon on the propitiously named Titanic, and work got underway.
            Friday, February 13, I suddenly realized that we were going to Close the Clinic. Sixteen years of my life have been spent there, and I was flooded with memories of those years, and the many stories contained in those walls.
            I worked Saturday morning with the Rotarians, then spent the afternoon at the old clinic. There were a few patients, but mostly the word seemed to have spread, and everyone knew we were about to close for four weeks. Nonetheless, by closing time, we had seen a total of 183 patients in the first two weeks of February, not bad for half a month’s work. Edemita and I then wrestled the top off the exam table, and we began the process of putting things in boxes. I could not help thinking of the thousands of patients who had lain on that table, and it made me tear up. On February 15, one end gable went up on the new clinic, and a couple of roof trusses followed. Each day thereafter, more trusses went up, and then a whole lot of purlins, the narrow boards between the trusses to which the roofing tin would be nailed. With a floor and a roof, the interior construction could move along quickly.
           Sunday afternoon, March 15, the day before our scheduled opening, we had lights in all the rooms except the kitchen and one or two bathrooms. Most of the back part of the clinic, where clinic staff live, was yet to be painted, but the waiting room, hallway, pharmacy, and exam rooms were all painted, at least with one coat. Most of the floors will need another coat or two, especially in the pharmacy and second exam room, where we were unpacking and moving things in before the floor was completely dry. When I went into the pharmacy on Saturday afternoon to put the vaccines away, my feet stuck to the floor so firmly that I thought I was going to have to leave some skin behind.
            There was water in all the sinks and toilets, and also in the shower. Painting and shelving will continue to occupy us for weeks, yet. And Juvencio was still working on the wiring.
Nonetheless, by Monday morning we had most things unpacked and in their places, thanks to the amazing efficiency of Edemita and Carmen.

We opened as scheduled, to an overflow crowd. I parked my canoe at Golbert’s house, and walked along the corduroy road of scrap wood newly laid across the muddiest stretches of the path to the new clinic.
I only saw one boat in the port when I arrived, but the waiting room was packed. Later, I looked out and saw a total of six boats, then had no more time to look. Wilbert is marvelously efficient, but there were so many patients, I offered to pitch in if he wanted, and the reply was that yes, he wanted.
And we were off.