A trip to the dentist...

  A small cement building in the corner of the church yard, no air-conditioner or fans, no nice sitting area with magazines to keep you occupied, no secretary to keep things in order, no educational posters on cleaning teeth that hung on the wall or advertisements for toothpaste, no filing cabinet that held the paperwork in folders for each patient- in fact, no paperwork at all, no smell of toothpaste or cleaning products from keeping things sanitary... but a small sign that hung outside: "Denista".

  Every Monday will be dentist day at 2:00, where we'll bring kids from Elba Zamora to get their rotting teeth pulled and the remaining teeth 'cleaned'/taken care of at the local, well-known dentist from Granada.  To have dental work done here, is a luxury, for most people can not every afford a trip their entire lives.  This, of course, explains why people are not ashamed of the silver (or sometimes gold) metal that lines their two front teeth when they smile. So on Monday, we took six eager and excited children, ages 8-10 years old, to the dentist for the first time.  Though I didn't expect something like my dentist's office in Maine, I was still shocked at the sight of this little building and the filth that covered the floors and counters.  With two dentist chairs in one room, one small cabinet on wheels for the tools, and a dusty fan blowing the hot air around the small space, the dentist went to work on all six of the children.

  Before even looking in their mouths, the dentist filed each other kids in to the room to give them not one, not two, but three injections of Novocain in their mouths just in case he would need to pull some teeth later. They sat there for 15 min., letting the inside of their mouths, cheeks and lips become numb... laughing at each other as they tried to smile, speak and feel someone else probe at their face. Next, it was extraction and cleaning time... yikes! The dentist put on a pair of gloves and, from each kid, pulled the baby teeth that were turning black and put fillings on the other teeth with cavities... all without cleaning a single tooth, without changing his gloves or exchanging the used tools for newer, more sterile ones for the next child. And he spent no more than 15-20 min with each child, 'examining' their mouths and doing whatever 'needed' to be done, not explaining to them what was happening...

  What started off as an exciting trip to the dentist, quickly turned in to nervousness and tears as they watched each other walk out of the room with a piece of bloody gauze in their mouths, dried tears on their faces, with their heads down. I spent the afternoon holding each child, comforting them and telling them how brave they were, playing tic-tac-toe with them in the dirt to distract them from the lingering pain in their mouths and telling them stories from home.

  On our walk home, we gave each of the kids their own toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste, gave them a lesson on brushing their teeth and informing them on why this was so important. Thankfully, these small gifts, put smiles back on their faces...