There's an invisible, tangible,
barrier to contend with when indigenous patients come to a Western medicine
facility.
Their reality is profoundly different. Take the seemingly straightforward concept of time. The question "when did it happen?" can elicit some surprising answers. A special mention for the despicable prejudice that they experience from mestizos, that really gets my goat. They may well expect the same from doctors and interpreters, and censor/alter their stories to appease, assuage, hiding their true selves for fear of judgment. As they've had to do for 5 centuries to survive the onslaught on their reality. They may primarily speak an indigenous language, and be shy to speak Castilian Spanish. My exasperated colleagues would, time and again, declare it was impossible to interpret for our living ancestors. For not submitting, for not accepting that this world is overrrun by technology and that now they are sick or injured, they might need it. So "yes, we'll help you, but first you must demonstrably submit". I gladly stepped in, knowing that we'd almost certainly not find a competent interpreter, anywhere in Minneapolis in person or able to permeate that barrier on the phone. And that i could find a way to communicate with speakers of Quechua, Kiche or Yokotan by having an open heart, which i know they can sense. The goal is to master neutrality while transmitting an attitude of loving intention and respect for the sanctity of the union of healing energy that comes through us from the Creator.
In the 10 years i worked as an interpreter i was blessed and honoured to feel the Creator's love flowing in that union, on numerous occasions. If it had been once it would have been remarkable enough. Had i been more alert, consistently attuned, how many more times could there have been? That i felt it as a thunderbolt, suffused with an ethereal glow, or more like a howling heavenly wind on a handful of occasions, leaves me breathless.
Heart in mouth.
Their reality is profoundly different. Take the seemingly straightforward concept of time. The question "when did it happen?" can elicit some surprising answers. A special mention for the despicable prejudice that they experience from mestizos, that really gets my goat. They may well expect the same from doctors and interpreters, and censor/alter their stories to appease, assuage, hiding their true selves for fear of judgment. As they've had to do for 5 centuries to survive the onslaught on their reality. They may primarily speak an indigenous language, and be shy to speak Castilian Spanish. My exasperated colleagues would, time and again, declare it was impossible to interpret for our living ancestors. For not submitting, for not accepting that this world is overrrun by technology and that now they are sick or injured, they might need it. So "yes, we'll help you, but first you must demonstrably submit". I gladly stepped in, knowing that we'd almost certainly not find a competent interpreter, anywhere in Minneapolis in person or able to permeate that barrier on the phone. And that i could find a way to communicate with speakers of Quechua, Kiche or Yokotan by having an open heart, which i know they can sense. The goal is to master neutrality while transmitting an attitude of loving intention and respect for the sanctity of the union of healing energy that comes through us from the Creator.
In the 10 years i worked as an interpreter i was blessed and honoured to feel the Creator's love flowing in that union, on numerous occasions. If it had been once it would have been remarkable enough. Had i been more alert, consistently attuned, how many more times could there have been? That i felt it as a thunderbolt, suffused with an ethereal glow, or more like a howling heavenly wind on a handful of occasions, leaves me breathless.
Heart in mouth.
Tlazokamati Ometeotl.
