Taxis

I’m getting to know the taxi cab community here in Santo Domingo pretty well. Every morning I flag someone down on the busy corner of Latacunga and Guayaquil. After I tell them that I want to go to the barrio of Carlos Ruiz Burneo, a pretty rough place, they almost always hesitate a moment and look at me briefly, as if to ask, “why would anyone want to go there, particularly an aging gringo like yourself?”

Since this has been going on for over a year now, I’m now regularly flagging down taxi drivers who I’ve had before and they greet me like an old friend. Sometimes, if they spot me walking to the market, they honk and wave, though they have yet to stop and offer me a ride. Rita came out to the clinic last week for a little birthday celebration for Mercedes and got into a little fight with the driver. He was going to charge four dollars and she complained that I only pay three, to which the taxista replied “Your husband is an amigo mio and I give him a deal.” They finally agreed to $3.50, but she had to throw in one of the brownies that she was bringing to the birthday party.

Honking is important here. It’s a friendly place and the drivers are forever tooting at someone they know on the street or in another cab. Honks can also be a declaration of intent, like “I’m coming through this impossibly small space at a rapid rate of speed despite all this chaotic traffic, so you better watch out, because if I hit you, since I was the first one to honk, it won’t be my fault.” These sound like this: beep-beep, short and in quick succession. Also there are lots of angry honks directed at anyone doing something hasty, nasty or stupid. Because this happens pretty frequently there is always a background of angry honks wherever one goes, night or day. Angry honks are louder and sound like this: Beeep. Beeeeep. For a group of people who are so warm and welcoming face to face, they are incredibly rude on the road.

The taxistas favor seat covers made up of that deep pile shag carpeting that was really popular maybe 30 years ago in the US; carpeting over the dashboard, too, for some reason, but not much in the way of personal safety protection. Seat belts are for sissies and their use is thought to reflect a lack of confidence in the driver. It took me more than a week to figure out why I was arriving at work each morning with this big swatch of dirt running from my right shoulder to my left hip. With all the pollution, dust and grime in the air, seat belts tend to get pretty dirty when not used and since I apparently was the only one in town using a seatbelt, I was getting pretty dirty. I decided in favor of clean over safe but am prepared to admit that this might not be the best decision, especially in Santo Domingo.

Something

Who said: “I can't do everything but I can do something.”?* Whoever it was, it’s how we steer our star down here in Santo Domingo, Ecuador.

I met Rene, a little boy 6 years of age, a couple of months ago. He has spina bifida, a birth defect involving the spine, which has left him paralyzed below the waist. He can’t use his legs and can’t control his bowels or his bladder. In addition Rene has hydrocephalus, which occurs frequently with spina bifida. In the US, he would have had an operation for it by now, a “shunt”. Here in Ecuador, the family couldn’t afford it--about one year of dad's salary--so it hasn’t been done and his head is therefore bigger than you’d expect. He’s an engaging, bright-eyed little guy who loves attention.

Spina bifida is certainly a tough go for families, even in the US, and much more so down here. Mom, dad, Rene and his older brother Diego live in a little apartment behind dad’s automobile repair shop in a neighborhood near the clinic. He was getting around in the apartment by rolling around on the floor. While we were talking with his folks about his problem that first time at their place, his mom began to cry quietly and Rene looked confused, not understanding why the fuss.

Jamie Strawser, a friend and physical therapist, brought Rene his first wheelchair last month. She was here as part of a brigade made up mostly of faculty and students from UK. It was quite an event, and a little crowd formed in front of the clinic as Jamie adjusted the chair, passing on instructions and tools to dad, mom crying in the background—she wasn’t the only one—and Rene, he was smiling, happy and excited about his new wheels. It wasn’t everything he needed, but it was something.

*Frederic William Farrar (1831-1903), canon of Westminster and later dean of Canterbury. The complete quote is : “I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. What I can do, I ought to do. And what I ought to do, by the grace of God, I will do.” This quote has also been attributed to the American Everett Hale (1822-1909), religious thinker and writer from Massachusetts, who also said (my favorite): “If you have accomplished all that you have planned for yourself, you have not planned enough.”