Sad Realities.

Today at San Jose Obrero, Irma and I went through expired medicine. In the States, that would consist of looking at the date, and throwing away any medicine that is no longer usable. In Peru, that consists of looking at the date, pushing all the pills out of their packaging/dumping all the liquids and powders into a bowl, throwing the pills, liquids, and powders into the sewer, and ripping/poking holes in the packaging. This is done because people go through trash here pretty routinely, and if they find pills they will use them, even if they aren't positive what the pills treat or if they are expired; some of the materially poor here simply don't have enough for any method of health care.

There is so much love, life, and joy here in Chulu, but there is also a kind of poverty that gives a new meaning to the definition of a need and a want for me. It is dejecting and inspiring at the same time. What Chulucanans lack in plata ($$$), the surely make up for in spirit, faith and community. That, at least, is what I try and focus on when I have to look the realities of the poverty in the eye.

Irma and me at work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Expired vials for injections.

Empty pill packages.

Expired pills.

Empty/destroyed medical containers and expired pills.