It is approximately 1,436 miles as the plane flies from Huntsville, Alabama to Clinica Ezell in Guatemala, but “Se\u00f1or Gru\u00f1on” was making me feel right at home.<\/p>\n
I had once again traveled the road to Montellano<\/a>, Guatemala to participate in an eye surgery medical mission (Code name: “Operaci\u00f3n de Ojos Claros) in conjunction with health professionals representing Health Talents International<\/a> and a team of students from Lipscomb University, the University of Alabama and the University of West Florida.<\/p>\n I was scooting across the poorly-lit, humid waiting room on a stool which reminded me of a shopping cart with one, misdirected rogue wheel and browsing for the biggest, ripest cataracts in all the land, the kind that literally block out the sun like a noonday eclipse. It was my second year of practicing “jungle ophthalmology,” and I was more comfortable this time, quickly screening a long line of patients while deftly waving my titanium-plated, 10,000 candle power Welch-Allyn Model LX-5000 penlight like Harry Potter’s wand.<\/p>\n But instead of Latin, in my wake lay a bloody trail of mangled Spanish phrases.<\/p>\n My intrepid interpreter and assistant Danny always shadows me, cleaning up my linguistic mess, and most of my patients take my well-intended attempts to speak their native tongue in stride. They simply smile at the bumbling gringo and look to Danny for clarification. But Se\u00f1or Gru\u00f1on was having none of that.<\/p>\n He became agitated when I told him to “Abre sus ojos” (or at least that’s what I thought I said) and began to wave his arms angrily. “\u00bfPor qu\u00e9 se molest\u00f3?” he sighed.<\/p>\n I knew he wasn’t pleased. I had seen that look many times back home. Although I was used to dealing with “Grumpy Geezers,” the language barrier was greater this time, not merely a matter of me speaking a little more “country” with one of the manure-covered farmers in Liberty overalls from Lawrence County, Alabama.<\/p>\n I looked at Danny, but I could see that he was going to let that one pass. He often mercifully edits and filters long monologues and dialogues so that even a gringo like me can quickly get the gist. When he doesn’t translate at all, I know that whatever was said has no “clinical relevance.”<\/p>\n Later, Number One Son, who had been scribing and instilling eye drops for me that day, filled me in: “He said, ‘Why does he even bother?'”<\/p>\n Good question, Se\u00f1or Gru\u00f1on. Although I know that you were complaining about my pathetic attempts to speak your native tongue, your question is a loaded one with far-reaching ramifications.<\/p>\n The short answer is I was trying to be polite and show you some respect. Sorry it didn’t come across that way and that it made you mad. I’m sure your anger was nothing personal.<\/p>\n