Hi, guys.  Still alive. Too alive, maybe. Will be posting some things soon. But you know ’soon’ is a long time when I say it. I swear I’m too busy to post about the things I’m busy with. Will do. Soon.

Merry Christmas, y’all

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Have a meaningful year to celebrate next Christmas.

(artwork by Marikit Saturay)

Shoot Mcdonald’s

We, students from the Netherlands, went to France as part of a school program. It’s a culmination of a 6-week overdose (not really) of French words. So we went to those pretty places in France like tourists (and I think that was what we were, no matter how I tried not to) climbed the Eiffel tower, gazed at Mona Lisa with her weird smile and missing eyebrows, not wondering or questioning why the hell Mona Lisa is exceedingly famous, went to Notre Dame, you name it. Places for tourists, you see.

Lunch break came and the students went searching for Mcdonald’s. Yep,  that crazy fast food provider you can find in almost every inch of every country in the world (talk about globalization). In every inch of The Netherlands, were they came from. We were in France,  and they were looking for McDonald’s. Aren’t they tired of it already? Aren’t there enough Mcdo’s in the Netherlands already? Don’t they want something new? Something French, maybe? They walked for one hour trying to look for it, singing “Mcdonald’s McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken and a pizza hut” while walking. We bumped into some students while walking, and found out they were looking for McDonald’s, too! Oooh, how gezellig!

I will never eat at Mcdonald’s again. The next day, even though I had to go there alone, I slipped away from the group and ate some real food. I’ll just blame the food for the bad mood.

Hate is not a bit strong

I had a conversation with a young classmate from school a while ago. It went something like this (translated from Dutch to English):

Person: Where you from again? Philippines, is it?

Me: Yeah.

Person: Where’s that? Is it in Europe?

Me: No, Asia. It’s near Indonesia, where your mother came from. Do you know where it is?

Person: Oh, there’s a lot of mountains there, right?

Me: Yup, a lot.

Person: Oh, now I know. There’s no houses there, right?

Me: What? Of course there are houses.

Person: Do you have schools there?

Me: Yes! (a bit irritated)

Person: Do you also learn math there?

Me: Yes.

Person: Are you a soldier?

Me: Whaat?? No, I’m not a soldier.

Person: How do soldiers look like in your land? Bows and arrows, right?

Me: What? No. You watch too much TV.

Person: Are there TV’s there?

Me: The Philippines is just a land full of people in forests, savages with bow and arrows and all, is that what your saying?

Person: Oh, what country is it then? *thinks*… Africa!

Me: It’s not like that in Africa either. You watch TV too much, you forgot to watch the real world.

Person: Isn’t it the land where there’s only animals and trees?

. . . . and he continued asking me questions like that (worse questions, actually) for another 15 minutes. I asked him where he got all these images of the country where I came from. He said he saw it on TV.

I hate it. It makes me angry, how the people in Europe have these images forced into their brains from the moment they start learning. The images of these savages from the Third World running around with no clothes, hunting for animals they will eat for dinner. The people who control the media, control the people’s mind. What hurts me more is that this boy is half-Indonesian, and is ashamed of it, as if he is half-animal.

I don’t hate this boy. I don’t blame him. I don’t hate the TV. I hate the people controlling it, monopolizing it. Not just the TV but the radio, the paintings, the music, the culture. I hate how they are being used. Hate is not a bit strong.

Someone: Who’s that guy who discovered South America?

Me: Discovered? You mean conquered, there were people there when Columbus came.

Someone: No, there were Indians.

Ah, and I also hate how they think they are these heroes who gave us civilization. That they came there to save us from savagery, gave us freedom and democracy and all those beautiful words. That before they came there, we were animals not capable of being humans. When in fact they came to these countries not because these countries are poor but because these countries are rich.

Selfish

I think we are all selfish, imbued with selfish wishes and thoughts. What makes us selfless is the ability to control these selfish thoughts and and translate them to actual selfless actions.

Doc Louie

Doc Louie with urban poor community residents. Photo courtesy of Ed Gerlock of COSE (Coalition of Services of the Elderly, Inc).

Here is an article published in 2003 about him

WAGING WAR ON TUBERCULOSIS:
THE PHILIPPINE EXPERIENCE
By Henrietta dela Cruz, MD

(reprinted from Health Action Information Network’s publication, Health Alert Asia-Pacific Edition, No. 2-2003)

The San Juan de Dios Tuberculosis (TB) Clinic is a small spare building in the midst of the bustling Quiapo district of Manila. In this small Spartan room stacked with records and x-ray plates, Dr. Glorioso V. Saturay has documented treatments of over 20,000 indigent patients afflicted with tuberculosis. Sadly, this doctor notes, the situation of tuberculosis has not changed in the Philippines in the last fifteen years since he started as a volunteer doctor at the clinic – if anything it is worse today.

Quoting World Health Organization reports, the Philippines ranked 8^th among the countries with TB problems globally. In the Western Pacific Region, the Philippines ranked second only to China in terms of its burden of disease. From the daily stream of 30-50 patients who line up to see him at the Clinic, Dr. Saturay puts together his own disturbing account of his daily battle with tuberculosis.

The Philippines, notes Dr. Saturay, will not easily rid itself of TB in the near future. While tuberculosis has gained global attention because of the rise in HIV-AIDS related cases, in the Philippines one the biggest allies in the spread of TB is poverty. The whole health care system he notes puts the poor at risk. The people who consult his TB Clinic are so poor that they would rather sell the medicines given to them to buy food for their children. The rise in multi-drug resistant TB stems from poor compliance to medicines that can amount to a day’s earnings for the typical low wage earner. What other charity programs sometimes do not understand in giving out their medicines is that it is dire poverty that limits compliance with their programs. Some programs ask their patients to go to their center weekly to get drugs when they have hardly enough money to pay their fare, much less the daily needs of their families.

“Part of the reason that TB is here to stay,” notes Dr. Saturay, “is that TB is actually a lucrative business.”Pulmonologists charge patients with fees anywhere from $5.00 to $10.00 for each consultation. X-ray and laboratory facilities tie up with these doctors to offer perks for referrals at the patient’s unknowing expense. Multinationals make money from selling anti-TB drugs with cutthroat competition that effectively eliminates any local pharmaceutical endeavor. Drug prices for the TB drugs in the Philippines can go as high as three to eight times the cost of these drugs in India.

The problem of cutting the escalating costs of TB boils down to a lack of political will on the part of government, adds Dr. Saturay. Many patients seen in the government clinics will be referred to other
centers for x-rays and sputum tests at the patient’s expense. Even in some of the government accredited centers for tuberculosis, drug supplies are uncertain. Some of the government accredited TB control centers will have very good reporting rates but hardly any cure rate to show for. The government should cover all costs for diagnosis, medication, and monitoring of TB cases if the country wants to rid itself of TB.

Dr. Saturay’s TB clinic, run by the Hospitaller Brothers of San Juan de Dios from Rome, does not have enough funds to implement the World Health Organization’s (WHO) recommended Directly Observed Treatment Short-course (DOTS). According to Dr. Saturay, the Clinic’s cure rate of 80%, however, is higher than the cure rates of other programs which have DOTS funding. Some of his patients, he claims, have come from a string of physicians who do not care to explain what their disease is all about. “It’s a lonely job,” says Dr. Saturay. “I listen to the people’s stories. I find what their jobs are, what they eat, where they live, where their children sleep – sometimes my patients just break down in desperation telling me their problems and stories. I tell my patients that I will always take care of them – even if they
get better. Sometimes all I have to offer for them is an ear to listen.” For Dr. Saturay, gaining a patient’s trust is the only way to cure.

Just a street away from the TB Clinic, rows of hawkers peddles a medley of herbal preparations for tuberculosis. The atmosphere is no less than chaotic as each stall owner peddles hope for an alleged
sure-cure. The collection of leaves, concoctions, and tonics are a tempting lure for patients who cannot afford TB medications. In the midst of such chaos, this quiet, unassuming man goes daily to his post, trying to convince the community that there is real hope for a cure.

(Note: This article was written in 2003. Despite his age and failing health, Dr Glorioso V. Saturay continued to treat indigents with tuberculosis until he passed away on August 20, 2007.)

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Doc Louie is best remembered for his dedication as a doctor treating urban and rural poor patients sick with tuberculosis (TB). In his entire career as a pulmonary specialist, he made very significant contributions in making treatment accessible for hundreds of thousands of indigent patients. He graduated from the University of Santo Tomas College of Medicine in 1959. He worked as a pathologist for the Quezon Institute (QI, a hospital for inigent patients with tuberculosis). He also helped setting up clinics for patients who had no means to afford treatment, such as the ST. John of God Clinic on RHidalgo St in Quiapo and the Bgy Pagasa community clinic at the Our Lady of Hope Parochial School Bldg. He worked with non-government organizations such as the Rural Missionaries. He was also among the founders of AKAP Community Based Tuberculosis Program with Drs Mamita Pardo de Tavera and Nini Quezon Avencena. With other progressive health professionals and workers, he went on medical missions to urban and rural communities to bring health care to people who are deprived and neglected by the government healthcare system.

He was a member of progressive cause-oriented organizations fighting for the rights of people. He was always proud to regard himself as an activist. In the early 1970s, he was active in the struggle against the Marcos dictatorship. Later, he worked with other health professionals in building community based health programs (CBHPs) in different regions and provinces in the Philippines. In the early 1980’s, he had to leave the Philippines after receiving death threats from the military. He came back a few years later to continue his work. He became an active member of the Health Alliance for Democracy (HEAD), an organization of health professionals and health workers and was active in the campaign for a better healthcare system and against privatization of government hospitals. He consistently attended mobilizations and demonstrations organized by HEAD, Bagong Alyansang Makabayan (BAYAN) and lately became an active supporter of the partylist Bayan Muna.

His small private clinic at home in Pag-asa, Quezon City was always open for people who needed help, not only health care but also for other matters. People would come knocking early in the morning until late at night. Many people regarded him not only as their family doctor, but also as a friend, seeking advise over personal, domestic and community matters. And this he gave generously. Later, he was asked by members of the community to run as a baranggay official. He didn’t even have to campaign. Friends and neighbors came out to campaign for him. Easily, he won the elections. He served as a Baranggay Councillor and Baranggay Captain for Brgy Pag-asa. He was also an active member of the Catholic community of Brgy Pag-asa through the Parish Renewal Experience (PREX). He was also a member of the Rotary Club.

He tried his best to impart his ceaseless concern for the rights and welfare of others not only to the people whom he served and worked with, but also to his family. He brought home reading materials about the plight of poor people and left these on the living room table so that his wife and children could read them. He encouraged them to attend cultural workshops and protest actions. He encouraged them to go into theater, photography and video making to help them see the world around them with the critical eye of artists. Often, patients coming from far provinces would ask to stay for a few nights at their home while they await medical treatment in hospitals in Manila. He always accommodated these requests and would ask these “guests” to tell stories about their situation. His son, Jun, became a dentist and a human rights activist. His daughter Necie is now a registered nurse, Younger son, Ariel, is a photojournalist and videodocumentary maker. The youngest child, Alice, is a doctor too. His wife, Rosita, stood by him even in the most difficult times. She passed away in 1992.

Over the past few years, his health had been deteriorating. He was diabetic, hypertensive and had chronic heart problems. He constantly had chest pains and had lost sensations in his feet. People close to him, including fellow doctors, tried to convince him to retire and take it easy. But his dedication to his work, his principles and love for the people he served gave him the strength and will to continue his work.

His life of service to the people is a legacy and will continue to inspire others .

(source: http://doclouiesaturay.blogspot.com/2007/08/obituary.html)

More articles about Doc Louie: http://doclouiesaturay.blogspot.com/

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