6 Months In The Barrio
I have chosen a road traveled by a few for perhaps the most practical reasons. While the compensation may be ample as compared to a resident working in the hospital, there are sacrifices a doctor to the barrio must make which a typical resident need not give up. For one, the comforts of city life can be very titillating for a DTTB who have spent months in geographical isolation from the proofs of urban life. The attachment to the routines of daily living can be bloody for a DTTB. Many DTTBs are assigned in areas not even insurgents can penetrate. While the motivation for such persistence and endurance in the plains of voidness vary from one DTTB to another, the fact remains that any DTTB, devoted and dedicated, will let go of the noise and lights of "civilization" and exchange them for the slow-paced, almost-frustrating lifestyle in the countryside.
Married DTTBs such as myself had to let go of family time and like missionaries assigned in perilous places, we leave them in our homes and remember them only in dreams and stolen moments, at night when the stars crawl over the nocturnal skies and remain until the stubborn sun reclaims her glory. Fortunately for my case I can get to see them on weekends when I go home, after 4 hours of adventurous bus ride from the mountain peaks of Candoni, through the meandering rough roads of Cauayan and Ilog and the unbroken highways of Negros Occidental, leading to Bacolod City, a place I claim as home. Many of my fellow DTTBs are not as fortunate.
Security is an issue and some DTTBs are assigned in areas where armed conflicts are always a factor. My area of assignment is historical infamous for its being a former hotbed for NPA rebels. Nevertheless, the first 6 months in my area of assignment had been relatively peaceful. Besides, we were assured that in theory, rebels and insurgents usually do not harm doctors. They need us too. But I never wanted to try such principle to the test.
The story of a DTTB is the story of perhaps a reckless idealistic doctor who leaves behind an opportunity to become a specialist, the luxuries of city life and the tranquility of private life, and marches on through rice paddies, over big waves and through thick jungles with the aim of conquering the world. Or maybe just this part of a country called The Philippines.
Nevertheless, it is a love story, studded with a lot of human drama, and perhaps sprinkled with a bit of humor. For some lucky ones, it can even turn out to be an action film.
It is a job less appreciated by those in the city, less understood perhaps by those in residency and less remembered even by its own employer: the government. But in the eyes of the common folk, in the bosom of the barrio, where boondocks sometimes meet the tides, the DTTB is in more ways than one...a demi-god. Perhaps for the more superstitious, he is a blessing. Either way, for the DTTB, he is by far only human, experiencing frustrations equally as he experiences joys. He dreams not only for himself but for his community. And while he may get to receive benefits, the hardships are mostly unpaid.
I have chosen this road that a few has travelled. The road is long. It is easy at times. In most cases, it is an uphill climb. But I choose to stay the course. And hopefully, make a difference.
Married DTTBs such as myself had to let go of family time and like missionaries assigned in perilous places, we leave them in our homes and remember them only in dreams and stolen moments, at night when the stars crawl over the nocturnal skies and remain until the stubborn sun reclaims her glory. Fortunately for my case I can get to see them on weekends when I go home, after 4 hours of adventurous bus ride from the mountain peaks of Candoni, through the meandering rough roads of Cauayan and Ilog and the unbroken highways of Negros Occidental, leading to Bacolod City, a place I claim as home. Many of my fellow DTTBs are not as fortunate.
Security is an issue and some DTTBs are assigned in areas where armed conflicts are always a factor. My area of assignment is historical infamous for its being a former hotbed for NPA rebels. Nevertheless, the first 6 months in my area of assignment had been relatively peaceful. Besides, we were assured that in theory, rebels and insurgents usually do not harm doctors. They need us too. But I never wanted to try such principle to the test.
The story of a DTTB is the story of perhaps a reckless idealistic doctor who leaves behind an opportunity to become a specialist, the luxuries of city life and the tranquility of private life, and marches on through rice paddies, over big waves and through thick jungles with the aim of conquering the world. Or maybe just this part of a country called The Philippines.
Nevertheless, it is a love story, studded with a lot of human drama, and perhaps sprinkled with a bit of humor. For some lucky ones, it can even turn out to be an action film.
It is a job less appreciated by those in the city, less understood perhaps by those in residency and less remembered even by its own employer: the government. But in the eyes of the common folk, in the bosom of the barrio, where boondocks sometimes meet the tides, the DTTB is in more ways than one...a demi-god. Perhaps for the more superstitious, he is a blessing. Either way, for the DTTB, he is by far only human, experiencing frustrations equally as he experiences joys. He dreams not only for himself but for his community. And while he may get to receive benefits, the hardships are mostly unpaid.
I have chosen this road that a few has travelled. The road is long. It is easy at times. In most cases, it is an uphill climb. But I choose to stay the course. And hopefully, make a difference.
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