Am I a Descendant of the Bolivian God Ekeko?

 Ekeko is the Tiwanakan god
of abundance and prosperity. 

Working alongside real doctors and nurses in the rural clinics soon my meager E.M.T. skills became apparent.  My medical talents have been honed for years dealing with the horrific car crashes in Southern Oregon, where the Jaws of Life are brought into play and patient stabilization is key to a successful rescue.  If I wanted to play on this new Bolivian medical team I was going to have to undertake another role I have played many times before during car accidents.   Patient triage became my forte.  Clearly 80% of the patients we treated were greeted at the door by the tall (in comparison to the Bolivian people) handsome gringo named Blaze.  I would motion with my hand for them to come, sit here, as my Spanish speaking translators would write down their names, chief complaints, age and some other pertinent information. The data sheets were handed to me for a quick viewing and I would direct the Bolivian countrymen to a waiting area for the next available doctor, nurse or dentist.  I sort of became a traffic cop of humanity, regulating even flow into the clinic, moving them along to the next open doctors station and then back outside into the dusty streets of Bolivia, all the while shoeing  the stray mangy dogs away who would try and break into the inner sanctum of our clinics.  A loud SHHHH SHHHH and a clap from my hands would work on scaring the dogs away most the time.  It kept the peasants on their toes too wondering exactly who was this crazy gringo dressed in a tactical vest with all it's cool gadgets hanging from it.

 

As you can see from the pictures
 the girls dug the tactical vest

After the peasants saw me with my loaded vest on rumors began to   swirl in the small remote villages that I may be actually a direct descendant of the Bolivian God Ekeko. I think the only reason my vest became so admired by the Bolivian children was because of the special treats it held in it's many pockets for them.  The red silicon bracelets I shot like rubber bands into the crisp Bolivian sky outside the clinics doors for them to chase down.  My teammates too liked the vest but only because of the relief it gave them from the taste of llama.  I always carried a package of Taylor's dried jerky in my side pocket and they all soon partook in the flavorful taste from back home, but more on the Bolivian food later.

The translated chief complaint from the older lady read starkly "My lower back and knees hurt after I work all day in the quinoa fields".  Age 92.  I wish I knew how to say "No Shit" in Spanish.  Clearly 25% of the patients we saw suffered from years and years of hard back breaking work, toiling in the stony fields eking out a meager living in the Bolivian Highlands.  Not even a real doctor could fix this harsh lifestyle, let alone a lowly EMT like myself...