Kalina Machado, MS3
Otra vez I was en la estrada,
This one the rain had undressed.
Erased the paint from years ago,
Scooped out some pieces of the asphalt,
Then left bare bones for us to ride.
A naked road, if you will,
But that 's not algo nuevo en Brasil…
With every bump en la estrada,
There was a sound of my badge
Hitting the stethoscope around my neck.
Like castañuelas in flamenco
Clapping in systole, a healthy tempo.
A las seis I was en la clínica,
If I can even call that a clinic?
Poetic license at it’s finest,
I swear this place was not the nicest.
Where el gobierno drew a cross,
Wrote “El Hospital” all across,
And crossed their fingers to not come at a loss.
At least getting ill doesn’t get you a bill,
But that’s not algo nuevo en Brasil…
With every patient en la clínica,
I became un poco más cínica.
The smell of dated, dusty cabinets
I saw handwritten paper charts - a vintage find!
The type you’d never find in store,
They just don’t make those anymore.
There, in this vieja, pequena clínica,
Se perdió my track of time.
There were no problems of mine,
The patients were all over my mind.
Hay que verlo para creerlo,
The healthcare en Brasil.
Stopped using samba as my remedy,
Because la clínica was my therapy.
About the Author: I was born and raised in Recife, Brazil, where my entire family still lives. I grew up speaking Portuguese in a household with two sisters. At 18 years old, I left my family to come to the United States for my studies. During my time as an undergraduate, I stumbled upon a poetry class where I practiced mixing words from any language in my vocabulary to compose poems. The freedom of not thinking too hard to write things down felt like a mental break from constantly using my second language. To this day, now as a third year medical student, I write down poems when I find time. I am happy to share one of my writing samples with LMSA!
About the Work: This poem shares a little bit about the time I worked at a community clinic in an impoverished area in Brazil. The mixture of languages reflect a little on how immigrants (like myself) talk every day as we share stories. And share some of my thoughts as a Brazilian who is training in the American healthcare system. This poem is playful, light, and may be relatable for some!
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