"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun."
— Chris McCandless
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
"Is there happiness in your heart?"
Recently I was thumbing through one of the many "Belize" travel books on our shelf and one of the more in depth books had a section on basic Ket'chi phrases. (The two separate groups of Maya people in Belize are the Ket'chi and Mopan). Seeing as I will be working with Maya people for the majority of my retreat ministry I thought it would be helpful to learn some helpful phrases. *Ket'chi is near impossible using many sounds that we in North America cant produce, back of your throat type sounds* But intrigued, I read on.
The book said that the Ket'chi people only have one proper greeting. It is used at all times of the day or night. The phrase translates exactly to "Is there happiness in your heart?" and the proper response is "My heart is full of happiness". ....How beautiful? To greet friend and foreigner with such a poignant phrase.... Is there happiness in your heart?
I was so struck by the simple truth and beauty to this phrase I have been thinking about it and mulling for a while. Then I applied it to myself. I think for the first time in a very long time, there is nothing but happiness in my heart. All aspects of my life seem to be coming together in such a wonderful fashion. My work life was a bit slow for my first month here, a lot of prep work for my retreats which was not exactly to my liking (sitting behind a computer all day, not my style). But I have recently gotten the ball rolling on my retreats and I will be leading 11 retreats in the month of october! I thrive on this pressure and anxiety that comes with it. I feel like I am truly settling into Belize, and my life here. Next week will be 2 months "in country" crazy to think how quick that has flown by! So much has happened , so much more to come. My community has provided me with such a great space to be myself, to be ones true self with no walls or hesistation is so appreciated. Those that know me well, know that I am loud, inappropriate, spiritual, at times obnoxious, and always quick to laugh. To be around one another, being not what we think we should be, or refraining from what we think or feel, but beings one's true self is really great.
In a recent email to my buddy Sam Brenner I was trying to put to words how overcome with happiness I have become and I struggled with how to put it to words. I just feel so right. The simple beauty of my life has made me just smile. What sacred space I have here, to live in a developing nation, trying in my own way to accompany the belizean people, hoping to learn all I can, trying in some small way to help, but also a time to work on myself. Developing more than anything- myself.
This is not to say, I live in some Disney movie where people have no troubles and candy falls from the sky. But rather, it through the discomfort of the day to day (sun burn, cockroaches, rats, bug bites, searing heat, non stop perspiration, homesickness, helplessness, frustration with the culture and people) that I have dug deeper. Outside of those very real pains, a happiness has bubbled forth. A happiness that is pure and good. It surrounds me, fills me with energy and laughter. Quite truly I'm drunk on it, can't get enough.
I'm sure my roommates are sick of me coming home for lunch, enjoying my lunch (generally left over rice and beans) and exclaiming "God damn its a great day!".
Call it the rush of a new JV, or the musing of man given too many endorphins at birth but when asked I can truly respond "My heart is filled with happiness".
May your heart be filled with it,
Matty Woots
The book said that the Ket'chi people only have one proper greeting. It is used at all times of the day or night. The phrase translates exactly to "Is there happiness in your heart?" and the proper response is "My heart is full of happiness". ....How beautiful? To greet friend and foreigner with such a poignant phrase.... Is there happiness in your heart?
I was so struck by the simple truth and beauty to this phrase I have been thinking about it and mulling for a while. Then I applied it to myself. I think for the first time in a very long time, there is nothing but happiness in my heart. All aspects of my life seem to be coming together in such a wonderful fashion. My work life was a bit slow for my first month here, a lot of prep work for my retreats which was not exactly to my liking (sitting behind a computer all day, not my style). But I have recently gotten the ball rolling on my retreats and I will be leading 11 retreats in the month of october! I thrive on this pressure and anxiety that comes with it. I feel like I am truly settling into Belize, and my life here. Next week will be 2 months "in country" crazy to think how quick that has flown by! So much has happened , so much more to come. My community has provided me with such a great space to be myself, to be ones true self with no walls or hesistation is so appreciated. Those that know me well, know that I am loud, inappropriate, spiritual, at times obnoxious, and always quick to laugh. To be around one another, being not what we think we should be, or refraining from what we think or feel, but beings one's true self is really great.
In a recent email to my buddy Sam Brenner I was trying to put to words how overcome with happiness I have become and I struggled with how to put it to words. I just feel so right. The simple beauty of my life has made me just smile. What sacred space I have here, to live in a developing nation, trying in my own way to accompany the belizean people, hoping to learn all I can, trying in some small way to help, but also a time to work on myself. Developing more than anything- myself.
This is not to say, I live in some Disney movie where people have no troubles and candy falls from the sky. But rather, it through the discomfort of the day to day (sun burn, cockroaches, rats, bug bites, searing heat, non stop perspiration, homesickness, helplessness, frustration with the culture and people) that I have dug deeper. Outside of those very real pains, a happiness has bubbled forth. A happiness that is pure and good. It surrounds me, fills me with energy and laughter. Quite truly I'm drunk on it, can't get enough.
I'm sure my roommates are sick of me coming home for lunch, enjoying my lunch (generally left over rice and beans) and exclaiming "God damn its a great day!".
Call it the rush of a new JV, or the musing of man given too many endorphins at birth but when asked I can truly respond "My heart is filled with happiness".
May your heart be filled with it,
Matty Woots
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
The crazy clinic.....
All right so I'm back in PG after being flown to Belize City to get access to better health care. I am feeling a lot better and hope to be back to work tomorrow (monday), I am taking it slow Mom and Dad so no need to worry. Though the whole concept of taking anything slow is new to me. Well before I went to the city in the north I first went to the free clinic here in town. And that is when the story/adventure/ hilarity began. Note: It is funny now that I am looking back, at the time it was absurdly out of control. But I am getting better so the follow story is meant for comical enjoyment.
After three days of serious sickness I woke up feeling progressively worse and decided perhaps it was finally time to get some professional help. In my mind I still thought I had the Flu (in the early stages Dengue and the Flu look similar in symptoms, until it takes a turn for the worse). My room mate Pat took me to the Free Clinic not far from our house. He asked do you want to walk or bike? At the time, it took me 25 minutes to muster the strength to walk from my bedroom downstairs to the couch upstairs so the idea of walking anywhere farther than the bathroom seemed outrageous. " Bike" I decided but not totally confidently, it seemed as if he had asked me to run a marathon. Biking I at least thought I could just sit there and of roll to the clinic, I mean PG is the size of about University Heights... you can run the perimeter in about 20 minutes. So nothing is actually far, but I hadn't gotten off the couch in 3 days so it seemed like a Herculean feat to bike anywhere. I biked.. well wobbled my way to the clinic, all the time thinking I was going to pass out ( I think an old woman passed me with a cane).
I got to the clinic and did not want special treatment because I was white. I wanted to make certain of that, well let me tell you... no need to worry about that. The woman at the desk took my information, a bit surprised that i wasnt a visitor or a tourist, but that I was an actual resident of the city. I sat and waited to be called, at this point my fever was about to spike again for the 5th time that day which included all of my clothing getting soaked sweat dripping off the tip of my nose. Basically I looked like a hot mess.
I am called into the doctors office, no lets call this the preliminary examination room, which was a kitchen. I was in this tiny little room, there are sinks everywhere and faucets and I'm a bit dazed from the fever and think I am in the wrong room. Nope right room, I am in this kitchen cubicle and the air conditioning is BLASTING. It was like walking into one of those "beer caves" at grocery stores, you know your hair blows back and your nostrils get frozen. Why they felt compelled to have such a temperature shock for people who are already ill, I will never know. But I am sitting clutching myself because my body was covered in sweat, covered like my boxers were soaked I was sweating so much and walk into this ice box and immediately all the bits of water on me freeze or so it felt. I am in a tank top and gym shorts, the same thing i have worn for three days because its 90 degrees and throw in a fever and i felt like i was on the sun the past three days. The nurse in the little kitchen asks me all those litany of questions all doctors offices do "do you have cancer?" "are you pregnant?" "do you shoot meth?" what?!.... thinking back, maybe these are just questions they ask at the free clinic haha. The perky nurse takes my vitals and says "oh my! you have a fever" I refrained from saying NO SHIT... I thought it would be rude. So I'm feverish and shaking and borderline hallucinating and she takes my blood pressure and all I hear is "hmmm that cant be right, according to the chart, with a blood pressure like that you should be a 5'2" female" Right Miss, that's me. All gangly six feet three freaking inches of me. The brain surgeon I have working with me then goes to say... "you must be really sick. " (SWEET MOTHER OF GOD THATS WHY IM HERE) but instead I politely grunted and walked out to wait for the doctor, bracing myself for 60 degree temperature jump outside the frozen kitchenette.
I am told to go to a back room to have a Malaria test done. They run the Malaria test and give you medicine for it even if you don't have it. I am wandering around looking for this doctors office when I find it and its a professional office: computer, big wood desk, swivel chair, calendar with cats... the whole deal. There are two women also in there, sitting on the "patient" side of the desk. No apparent doctor in the house. I sit down and after a bit they ask if I need something... well I assumed we were waiting for the same person for the malaria test. Nope she was merely chatting with her friend here and would do it for me. Ok I thought. Friend leaves. The lady grabs my hand pokes the end of the my finger and smears it on a microscope slide. Mind you, we are in an office that in itself weird. She is testing me for a blood borne illness and she isnt wearing gloves and I am certain she didn't clean my finger before she pricked me. She prys open an old candy tin and wraps two pills in a napkin, I am instructed to take them with my next meal, in case I have malaria (I am so sick at this point I just go with it)
I am brought into the waiting room, I am the only gringo here. There are a lot Mayan families sitting around, as bad as this place was it was the only place for many families to come. Many of these families took buses for hours to be seen by a doctor. With that in mind, I was trying to think more positive than negative.
I am told to wait my turn and the doctor would call me when its my turn.
Sitting, waiting, clutching my rolled up napkins of pills (still finding it weird) and who comes to sit next to me? A convict in handcuffs escorted by two armed guards. This man is enormous, bare footed, and has what appears to be a faded tattoo on his face. I also notice that his cuffs are in the front. The policemen walk away to sit to get a better view of the soap opera playing. All I can think is WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE? This man is clearly a threat to society and you are watching goddamn "All My Children". I think for sure I am about to be a hostage for some medicine. He is going to choke me out with the cuffs I just know it, its like that movie John Q ... with that my name is called and I all but run into the doctors office.
The doctor is a nice Cuban man and I am hoping he is better at medicine than he is at English. I begin to explain myself, symptoms, conditions, how long etc. when I get cut off by a family of Mayans burst in the door with a baby that is sick. The doctor asks me to step outside which I do, feeling miserable and longing for the couch, wondering why I ever left. After a bit I am told to go back in, he says... I think its Dengue. (Shit sounds serious). He tells me to follow a nurse that he points to and to come back if I get worse, writes a prescription for tylenol and ibeprofin. (I found out later in Belize City that my strain of Dengue may cause internal bleeding, so giving me ibeprofin ...a blodd thinner.... is the worst thing for me to take, or so I found out. Gee thanks Doc!)
I follow the nurse into another room and then realize she is prepping a shot. "Woah Miss whats that?" "I um no so good with english ... followed by a spanish statement" I put out my arm and roll my eyes, what in God's name am I getting injected in me.... "No Senor" the nurse says and makes a motion to take off my pants. Oh, of course I am taking an unknown shot... and nope its not for the arm, but for the butt.
I limp out to the lobby clutching my now sore butt cheek to find Pat, I have no idea whats going on. We need a dengue test which is done at the lab next door. I get there having spent far to much of the little energy I have. I can barely hold up my head and the woman giggles as she writes my name... "heheh do you like to eat at Hooters in the States?" (How old are you lady? Now is not the time for jokes with the last name!) No. No I don't. Please take my blood. I look away as she preps the injection (shes not wearing gloves but does use alcohol to clean the skin) I look back when I hear "WHOOOPSIE!"
note: it is NEVER a good sign when someone handling a needle near you says WHOOPSIE. never.
I look down to see blood cascading down my forearm creating a purplyred pool in my palm of my outstretched hand. the damn woman pierced my artery! FORCHRISTSAKE! I am pissed but let it go, no need to lose your temper Matt, not a big deal. I then ask how long for my results.
"Three Weeks"
"Three weeks, wait, isnt Dengue serious?! Shouldn't I know before three weeks?"
"I dont know talk to the doctor"
"Miss Dengue only lasts 12 days.... I will be better by the time I find out if that's what it is, or not that"
"Sorry"
I stand up and walk out with Pat, pissed, exhausted and just start laughing at the absurdity of the whole ordeal. Only in Belize. We find our bikes and I coast home to cash out on the couch in a mix of high fever and chills. Another day in the life.
After three days of serious sickness I woke up feeling progressively worse and decided perhaps it was finally time to get some professional help. In my mind I still thought I had the Flu (in the early stages Dengue and the Flu look similar in symptoms, until it takes a turn for the worse). My room mate Pat took me to the Free Clinic not far from our house. He asked do you want to walk or bike? At the time, it took me 25 minutes to muster the strength to walk from my bedroom downstairs to the couch upstairs so the idea of walking anywhere farther than the bathroom seemed outrageous. " Bike" I decided but not totally confidently, it seemed as if he had asked me to run a marathon. Biking I at least thought I could just sit there and of roll to the clinic, I mean PG is the size of about University Heights... you can run the perimeter in about 20 minutes. So nothing is actually far, but I hadn't gotten off the couch in 3 days so it seemed like a Herculean feat to bike anywhere. I biked.. well wobbled my way to the clinic, all the time thinking I was going to pass out ( I think an old woman passed me with a cane).
I got to the clinic and did not want special treatment because I was white. I wanted to make certain of that, well let me tell you... no need to worry about that. The woman at the desk took my information, a bit surprised that i wasnt a visitor or a tourist, but that I was an actual resident of the city. I sat and waited to be called, at this point my fever was about to spike again for the 5th time that day which included all of my clothing getting soaked sweat dripping off the tip of my nose. Basically I looked like a hot mess.
I am called into the doctors office, no lets call this the preliminary examination room, which was a kitchen. I was in this tiny little room, there are sinks everywhere and faucets and I'm a bit dazed from the fever and think I am in the wrong room. Nope right room, I am in this kitchen cubicle and the air conditioning is BLASTING. It was like walking into one of those "beer caves" at grocery stores, you know your hair blows back and your nostrils get frozen. Why they felt compelled to have such a temperature shock for people who are already ill, I will never know. But I am sitting clutching myself because my body was covered in sweat, covered like my boxers were soaked I was sweating so much and walk into this ice box and immediately all the bits of water on me freeze or so it felt. I am in a tank top and gym shorts, the same thing i have worn for three days because its 90 degrees and throw in a fever and i felt like i was on the sun the past three days. The nurse in the little kitchen asks me all those litany of questions all doctors offices do "do you have cancer?" "are you pregnant?" "do you shoot meth?" what?!.... thinking back, maybe these are just questions they ask at the free clinic haha. The perky nurse takes my vitals and says "oh my! you have a fever" I refrained from saying NO SHIT... I thought it would be rude. So I'm feverish and shaking and borderline hallucinating and she takes my blood pressure and all I hear is "hmmm that cant be right, according to the chart, with a blood pressure like that you should be a 5'2" female" Right Miss, that's me. All gangly six feet three freaking inches of me. The brain surgeon I have working with me then goes to say... "you must be really sick. " (SWEET MOTHER OF GOD THATS WHY IM HERE) but instead I politely grunted and walked out to wait for the doctor, bracing myself for 60 degree temperature jump outside the frozen kitchenette.
I am told to go to a back room to have a Malaria test done. They run the Malaria test and give you medicine for it even if you don't have it. I am wandering around looking for this doctors office when I find it and its a professional office: computer, big wood desk, swivel chair, calendar with cats... the whole deal. There are two women also in there, sitting on the "patient" side of the desk. No apparent doctor in the house. I sit down and after a bit they ask if I need something... well I assumed we were waiting for the same person for the malaria test. Nope she was merely chatting with her friend here and would do it for me. Ok I thought. Friend leaves. The lady grabs my hand pokes the end of the my finger and smears it on a microscope slide. Mind you, we are in an office that in itself weird. She is testing me for a blood borne illness and she isnt wearing gloves and I am certain she didn't clean my finger before she pricked me. She prys open an old candy tin and wraps two pills in a napkin, I am instructed to take them with my next meal, in case I have malaria (I am so sick at this point I just go with it)
I am brought into the waiting room, I am the only gringo here. There are a lot Mayan families sitting around, as bad as this place was it was the only place for many families to come. Many of these families took buses for hours to be seen by a doctor. With that in mind, I was trying to think more positive than negative.
I am told to wait my turn and the doctor would call me when its my turn.
Sitting, waiting, clutching my rolled up napkins of pills (still finding it weird) and who comes to sit next to me? A convict in handcuffs escorted by two armed guards. This man is enormous, bare footed, and has what appears to be a faded tattoo on his face. I also notice that his cuffs are in the front. The policemen walk away to sit to get a better view of the soap opera playing. All I can think is WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE? This man is clearly a threat to society and you are watching goddamn "All My Children". I think for sure I am about to be a hostage for some medicine. He is going to choke me out with the cuffs I just know it, its like that movie John Q ... with that my name is called and I all but run into the doctors office.
The doctor is a nice Cuban man and I am hoping he is better at medicine than he is at English. I begin to explain myself, symptoms, conditions, how long etc. when I get cut off by a family of Mayans burst in the door with a baby that is sick. The doctor asks me to step outside which I do, feeling miserable and longing for the couch, wondering why I ever left. After a bit I am told to go back in, he says... I think its Dengue. (Shit sounds serious). He tells me to follow a nurse that he points to and to come back if I get worse, writes a prescription for tylenol and ibeprofin. (I found out later in Belize City that my strain of Dengue may cause internal bleeding, so giving me ibeprofin ...a blodd thinner.... is the worst thing for me to take, or so I found out. Gee thanks Doc!)
I follow the nurse into another room and then realize she is prepping a shot. "Woah Miss whats that?" "I um no so good with english ... followed by a spanish statement" I put out my arm and roll my eyes, what in God's name am I getting injected in me.... "No Senor" the nurse says and makes a motion to take off my pants. Oh, of course I am taking an unknown shot... and nope its not for the arm, but for the butt.
I limp out to the lobby clutching my now sore butt cheek to find Pat, I have no idea whats going on. We need a dengue test which is done at the lab next door. I get there having spent far to much of the little energy I have. I can barely hold up my head and the woman giggles as she writes my name... "heheh do you like to eat at Hooters in the States?" (How old are you lady? Now is not the time for jokes with the last name!) No. No I don't. Please take my blood. I look away as she preps the injection (shes not wearing gloves but does use alcohol to clean the skin) I look back when I hear "WHOOOPSIE!"
note: it is NEVER a good sign when someone handling a needle near you says WHOOPSIE. never.
I look down to see blood cascading down my forearm creating a purplyred pool in my palm of my outstretched hand. the damn woman pierced my artery! FORCHRISTSAKE! I am pissed but let it go, no need to lose your temper Matt, not a big deal. I then ask how long for my results.
"Three Weeks"
"Three weeks, wait, isnt Dengue serious?! Shouldn't I know before three weeks?"
"I dont know talk to the doctor"
"Miss Dengue only lasts 12 days.... I will be better by the time I find out if that's what it is, or not that"
"Sorry"
I stand up and walk out with Pat, pissed, exhausted and just start laughing at the absurdity of the whole ordeal. Only in Belize. We find our bikes and I coast home to cash out on the couch in a mix of high fever and chills. Another day in the life.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
real quick update
I have Dengue Fever. I was flown to Belize City to go to the Hospital to get my blood work done. I am still up here, slowly getting better. Dengue is a tropical blood borne illness that mosquito's transmit. It involves aches, pains extremely high fever. Unlike the flu that fever spikes at a very high temperature then goes down, my fever has spiked up to 6 times a day at its worst. There is nothing to do about it except ride out the pain and take Tylenol. I should be going back to PG later this week. I am doing fine I just feel like shit most of the day, it is the most painful sickness I have had in a while. They call it "bone break fever" because that's what it feels like.
This is all I have time for now. Thanks the concern... I should be feeling better, by some degree, by next week.
Also my next blog post, when I have the time and strength to type it out involves my adventures with the Belizean Medical care! All this terror about health care reform in American, I suggest the GOP all get a serious disease and come to Belize. Whatever Mr. Obama is offering will look like God's Gift to Sick People. It was an adventure to say the least : )
a preview: no gloves, at times no shoes, injections whose names are in Spanish, a convict, prescribed medication that actually WORSENED my condition and a nurse who pierced my artery! all of this and more!
Feeling yucky in Belize,
Matty
This is all I have time for now. Thanks the concern... I should be feeling better, by some degree, by next week.
Also my next blog post, when I have the time and strength to type it out involves my adventures with the Belizean Medical care! All this terror about health care reform in American, I suggest the GOP all get a serious disease and come to Belize. Whatever Mr. Obama is offering will look like God's Gift to Sick People. It was an adventure to say the least : )
a preview: no gloves, at times no shoes, injections whose names are in Spanish, a convict, prescribed medication that actually WORSENED my condition and a nurse who pierced my artery! all of this and more!
Feeling yucky in Belize,
Matty
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