Social solidarity clinics of Greece are carrying quite a burden of health care to those who can't afford it
After a very
successful workshop on childhood adversity and its impact on adult health with
the pediatricians of the Solidarity Clinic, Sofia and Michaeli offered me to go
to his village to pick fruits, right off the branches. I am thrilled with the
opportunity. Solidarity Clinic is still in the back of my mind, though.
Apparently, it started in Crete to provide health care to those who don’t have
health insurance such as refugees, minorities, immigrants, etc.
Good volunteer doctors of Greece providing care to Syrian refugee children
My colleagues
tell me that the goal of this movement was to show the need, to convince the
government that structured system of care was needed for these populations and eventually
as the government built the needed services Solidarity Clinic would leave the
social network to governmental entities. These clinics, now spread to all over
the country are run totally by volunteer pediatricians, psychiatrists,
psychologists, internists, etc. Unfortunately, although the founder of the
Solidarity Clinics is the Minister of Health in Greece, right now, the need for
them is still not extinct especially after the Syrian refugee influx. I admire
my young colleagues affectionately, who are basically working two jobs, one
paid at half salary and the other not at all. No wonder democracy and communal
participatory life style were established on this land.
We load into
Michaeli’s car, at 8:30; Manoli, Michaeli and Sofia’s son, Dimitri, Manoli’s
friend, and myself. We are heading to Michaeli’s village. He has a house in the
village, cherry, apricot, and peach trees and a small vineyard that he shares
with his brother. Unfortunately, due to climate change, his cherry trees
stopped producing. His apricot trees are doing fine. It is beautiful countryside
as we leave the National Road behind and dive into the depths of the island.
Road is meandering up and down, over and around cliffs and hills, through and
above valleys and canyons into the mountain land.
Manolis and his friend Dimitri conversing while waiting for Michaeli change cars
They point to the Moni Arcadi (Arkadi Monastery)
across one of the valleys, where a heroic resistance was held against Ottomans in 1866, when 943 people finding refuge in the monastery eventually blew themselves up by exploding their storage of gunpowder into that subsequently drew attention of the rest of the world to Greek liberation movement. All through my life,
I was told Ottomans were good to locals, when they conquered, rather invaded a land. I guess they forgot to add "as long as the locals were
submissive". If they were honorable enough to resist, slaughters were imposed
upon them to teach a lesson to the rest, which was never shared with us new
generations to keep the “hate the Greeks” card always available to keep domestic issues under control.
We finally arrive at
his village, Pantanassa. He parks and brings another car that he keeps at the
village parking lot to drive around the village, only going to his fields. Just
as we turn a corner, he spots a police car in front of the kafennia in the
village and stops abruptly. It takes me some time to understand that he is
worried about the police giving him a ticket since the car in the village is somewhat
disheveled, although fully functional. Very smart move, we also park and have a
seat at the kafennia and order coffee! It would have never occurred to me, no
wonder my daughter claims I am gullible at times. Greeks’ and Turks’ mind works
sooooo similarly. In Turkish, there is an expression “There is no end to list
of solutions in democracies”, our unplanned coffee break proves the relevance
of the expression! As we enjoy our coffee and chat away with the kafennia
keeper kiriya, the police leave, after paying for their coffee, though (in
Turkey, I doubt police pay for anything especially in such a small village). We
are now ready to head to the field just half a km outside of the village.
The trees are loaded
with apricots, but my fellow apricot pickers are disappointed as soon as they
break an apricot or two since most fruit is infested by mini-worms, some worms
barely visible and only to a trained eye, others well established households roaming
and devouring the core of the fruit. We pick only those that seem to be
untouched by the worms. MIchaeli gets rid of some that I pick, I guess he can
tell even by looking at the fruit that it is infested. We move on after picking
a box of apricots, but a mulberry tree catches our attention. Black mulberry, at
that, which I hadn’t had for a long time. We are all interested in picking and
Michaeli reports his friend who owns the tree will never pick them.
Apricot branches are sweeping the ground, albeit, most are wormy: the cost of organic farming at times...
Four sets
of hands get to work right away. We make sure to feed ourselves as well as
picking to take home. I notice all of a sudden that my hands and forearms are
covered with streaks and patches of burgundy color red mulberry juice. Oh my, how in the
world will I be able to lecture to a group of professionals this afternoon! The
boys calm me down with local wisdom: if, after washing my hands with soap and
water, I rub them with mulberry leaves from the same tree, the stains will all
go away. I can’t believe this, but still pick a handful of leaves to take home.
Believe it or not, upon return to my hotel room, following my shower, the
rubbing takes away the entire color except for a slight hue on my nailbeds, now
I am safe to present myself professionally.
On the way out of the
village, Michaeli stops at his vineyard and trims the vines. Although I am
helping them, all of a sudden my attention is drawn to the precious very fresh
leaves that are cut off, which will rot on the ground. I assign myself to
picking the leaves that are appropriate to stuff to make stuffed grape leaves
for Sofia’s family. Although, the gentlemen are disinterested in my endeavor at
this point, they will be very pleased next week, to have let me do it when one
of our dinners together has dolmadakia that Sofia and I will make as the
central dish. Sofia is worried though; observing how much the boys enjoy the
dolmadakia, now they will demand her to make it for them, which is very time
consuming a delicacy. We decide to get together whenever they crave for
dolmadakia…
I am so grateful that
Sofia and Michaeli open up their home and lives to me like this. As a Fulbright
scholar and an anti-touristic tourist I appreciate this all too natural not
even an effort greatly. Becoming a member of her family for two weeks is what
makes my Fulbright experience so very unique allowing me have a very steep
learning curve about Cretan culture, Greek history and politics from different
points of view since all three members of her family have different political
views! Both Sofia and I feel we are now bonded forever as friends beyond
colleagues. Perhaps that is one treasure I will take with me from this trip, a
gift from Fulbright.
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Michaeli, the gentle boss of all good things... I must have been so busy eating mulberries, I neglected to take a picture of my fellows picking them! |
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