Living with Midwives: Motorcycles, American Midwives and Buried Gold

I thought about adding more to my last post. It was rushed and felt incomplete, but I think I will leave it as is. There is more to say, but those thoughts are gestating.

Last week a team of thirty American doctors and nurses took over the local school for the day. Followed by a police escort they emerged from their shiny buses and vans, smiling and waving like movie stars, each wheeling two or more suitcases stuffed to capacity with medications, vitamins and eye glasses. It was a major event in the aldea and all the mothers came with ALL of their kids. I went with my family and took Kevin to see the optometrist and a pulmonologist. Definitely overkill, he had a cough. The eye doc instructed him in some exercises, which I now force him into doing after dinner (but doubt he will continue with once I am gone). I met two nurse midwives and was invited to spend the day translating for the doctors. This went surprisingly well. They weren't kidding when they said I spoke more spanish than anyone else there. The day did not progress without some confusion and embarrassment, but it was the highlight of my week and also completely wonderful to get to speak some english. I talked with the midwives about our mom who had lost a baby 24 hours earlier and told them that we suspected she might have a small uterine infection. They agreed to walk to her house and see her. So Eulalia, a nurse midwife, a pharmacist, a body guard (?) and myself, went to visit our mom. They were happy to make the visit and left her with two good antibiotics and some ibuprofen. We were very grateful.

I've begun exploring the mountains near our house in the afternoons. Most recently with the son of an American man and Guatemalan woman, who lives on a nearby farm. The land is mountainous and seemingly endless, you can walk for over 2 hours and still be on the property. We walked through dark cypress forests and found an enormous volcanic rock to sit on. We talked about superstitions and the legend of a curse on their farm; rumors of buried mayan gold and the black, dancing spirits that occasionally frighten away the men they hire to repair the fences. He further confirmed my suspicions of a very powerful gossip mill that runs the town, a form of currency really. I told him that after coming home from lunch at their house last week, a woman I know had told me that his dad had shot and killed a man, just for walking by one day. I should add that she failed to tell me this before spending the afternoon with them. Thanks a lot lady.

Jovel told me that; "no" his dad "hadn't killed anyone…yet." Though he did once walk into a church with a gun and shoot out their stereo system. I have yet to decide if this can really be held against him. The deep bass and constant blaring, singing and weeping gets worse than just old. Further more, why the microphone is almost exclusively possessed by the woman with the most grating voice in the congregation, is beyond me.

I was sad but not surprised to hear that the dogs their family has kept throughout the years, have with only a few exceptions, all been poisoned. A dalmatian that people were convinced was a bewitched, bad omen and three dobermans. The dobermans they loved dearly, but inspired fear in all and once chased down and gruesomely mauled to death a neighbors' horse. The dogs didn't live but a few weeks after this incident.

A cloud of mosquitos ascended on us and feasted for a good 20 minutes, until it became unbearable and we headed home. When I got to the front door, Kevin and Jelvir were protectively waiting for me.

On Saturday Carolina, Jelvir and I drank a bottle of red wine on the roof. They were excited to try it for the first time and both agreed that it was delicious. We sat on the roof past midnight admiring the clear sky. Carolina commented on how full the moon was, adding how not fun it would be to get called to a birth in the night. We laughed and decided it was unlikely, both knowing that, that wasn't entirely true. At 4:30am I was called to a birth with Eulalia and at 6am Carolina was called to another. The babies were born just ten minutes apart. The birth I attended was a first time mom, all enfolded in peace and normalcy and the dad was surprisingly engaged, helpful and emotional throughout the birth. It was a cold enough morning that clouds of breathe puffed across the room and our mom Geydi, invited me onto the bed, under a cozy nest of blankets. We held hands and took deep, full breathes and a few hours later her baby was born.

Carolina's birth that same morning in Calderas was difficult. She was alone in the house with the mom, while the very drunk husband stumbled in and out. The mom had a hard time and kept saying she didn't think she could do it. The cord was wrapped tightly around the babies' neck, the amniotic fluid was yellow and the placenta not born for nearly 35 minutes was complete, but withered and discolored when it was finally born. The baby was huge, weighing over 10lb. Carolina left in the afternoon, the mom was left alone and exhausted. Nothing about it was ideal, but mom and baby are in good health.

We relaxed the rest of the day and watched a movie. Jelvir made us dinner, something he was very secretive about doing. I thought this secrecy was his way of planning a sweet surprise, but it was actually out of embarrassment. He didn't want me to know that he was doing the cooking. What was I supposed to imagine him doing; banging around in the kitchen and emerging with plates of hot food and tortillas? I was impressed, but will refrain from mentioning it to his friends.

The night before last I was shaken from a hard, deep, sleep by something a little more substantial than the rumbling and grumbling I have come to expect. The earthquake lasted about 15-20 seconds and took the power out with it. I just lay there, thinking that "it didn't seem that bad," which it wasn't. But, I'm a little unimpressed with my lack of response in this minor emergency. I did think about getting out of bed, but decided against it in favor of staying put in my warm, comfortable (deathtrap) bed. Stupid? Probably. I'll do better next time.

In the last two weeks I have done some fun and thrilling things. I rode on the back of my first motorcycle and raced down dirt hills on the seat of a bike while Jelvir sitting on the handle bars, manned the brakes. We don't have a bike or a motorcycle at our disposal, but Jelvirs "crazy" cousin offered up his motorcycle as did his other "crazy" cousin, who apparently is even more crazy than the first cousin. Perhaps we'll take with the former offer, or none at all.

Next week I hope to borrow some new books, hike up to the cloud forest, ride a motorcycle, visit a friend's lily farm and attend Josephina's birth.