The second morning at Guachochi, I took another stab at breakfast and failed. However, I spied exactly what I wanted on Jack’s plate. Excitedly I jumped up and pointed to Jack’s plate. “That’s it! That’s the one. Which one is that Jack?” “It’s a number four, Kent” Jack answered laughing. I made a mental note to order it for tomorrow’s breakfast. Too bad this wasn’t the Village Inn, because I would have even eaten it for dinner. I could hardly wait for my next breakfast.
As we reached the clinic the second morning, again hundreds Mexican nationals and indigenous Indians were lined up waiting for treatment. They were patiently waiting for the clinic to open. Our interpreter, Alfredo, issues sequential numbers to eliminate the need to remain in line. Groups begin to form. A string of similarly appearing male Mexicans with large white hats converse and resemble a scene out of a Clint Eastwood movie. Lively lavenders, greens, reds and deep blue mixed in active patterns distinguish the Indian women. The children were very quiet until some of the Rotary team prodded them out of their shells. Apparently the children were quite taken with getting several Disney stickers placed on their faces. Even teenage girls were mischievously running around the clinic showing off their new decorative toys. The children found even more entertainment from the real world outside under the shade tree. Doctor Friedman had started surgery and eventually pulled 26 teeth that day.
Though the Indians would wear a variety of clothing ranging from Nike to local Mexican dress, some appear to abandon western clothing. The Indian men wear more natural colors. One had a course white-wrap about his waist. He carried a horses collar around his neck for a lack of place to store it. In describing this picture, it would seem as if this Indian could be the source of ridicule. Seeing the scene created an entirely different interpretation. I was not laughing. Rather, I stood in awe as if I were looking back into the past. Looking at his strong features and sandal clad feet spurred my curiosity to understand more about his way of life.
This day was going even better than the first. Time flew by and it was already past noon. I kept thinking about how good Jack’s breakfast looked. The juices were stirring in my stomach from my visualization. Patty came up and asked me if I wanted a hamburger. I jumped at the offer and was anxiously waiting for her to return with our lunch goodies.
“Kent, this is the patient you’ve been waiting for. She’s a 13-year-old with 11 diopters of correction. She’s going to see a big difference when she gets her glasses. Her father says she trips over things when she walks.”
