An Italian doctor knew few words in Kiswahili and he was happy to use them. The problem was that he was sometimes using them in the wrong context. One day he was doing a filling to a molar and he had his finger in the mouth of the patient. The mouth of the client was not opened enough. So he wanted to tell him: “open more”. He decided to use Kiswahili and he requested: “funga” (funga means close, while the volunteer was supposed to use fungua, which means open). Of course the patient did not obey considering the fact that the finger of the doctor was in his mouth. Seeing that the Italian dentist grew inpatient and he repeated very loudly: “funga”. The poor client decided to obey, because he was told again to do so… and he bit that finger very badly. Of course the poor dentist felt a lot of pain. But the unfortunate client simply obeyed a command.domenica 13 febbraio 2011
Language barriers
An Italian doctor knew few words in Kiswahili and he was happy to use them. The problem was that he was sometimes using them in the wrong context. One day he was doing a filling to a molar and he had his finger in the mouth of the patient. The mouth of the client was not opened enough. So he wanted to tell him: “open more”. He decided to use Kiswahili and he requested: “funga” (funga means close, while the volunteer was supposed to use fungua, which means open). Of course the patient did not obey considering the fact that the finger of the doctor was in his mouth. Seeing that the Italian dentist grew inpatient and he repeated very loudly: “funga”. The poor client decided to obey, because he was told again to do so… and he bit that finger very badly. Of course the poor dentist felt a lot of pain. But the unfortunate client simply obeyed a command.Chaaria è un sogno da realizzare giorno per giorno.
Un luogo in cui vorrei che tutti i poveri e gli ammalati venissero accolti e curati.
Vorrei poter fare di più per questa gente, che non ha nulla e soffre per malattie facilmente curabili, se solo ci fossero i mezzi.
Vorrei smetterla di dire “vai altrove, perché non possiamo curarti”.
Anche perché andare altrove, qui, vuol dire aggiungere altra fatica, altro sudore, altro dolore, per uomini, donne e bambini che hanno già camminato per giorni interi.
E poi, andare dove?
Gli ospedali pubblici hanno poche medicine, quelli privati sono troppo costosi.
Ecco perché penso, ostinatamente, che il nostro ospedale sia un segno di speranza per questa gente. Non ci sarà tutto, ma facciamo il possibile. Anzi, l’impossibile.
Quello che mi muove, che ci muove, è la carità verso l’altro, verso tutti. Nessuno escluso.
Gesù ci ha detto di essere presenti nel più piccolo e nel più diseredato.
Questo è quello che facciamo, ogni giorno.
Fratel Beppe Gaido

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