Who will righten this inverted pyramid?
HAVANA — Some years ago, a former vice minister of the Economy commented to me — more in truth than in jest — that, according to an unpublished study, the workers who skip work the least were the baggage carriers at hotels and the pump attendants at gasoline stations.
The former, because of the succulent tips that they received in hard currency; the latter, because of the lucrative business of illegal fuel sales, in an era when the well-known (and now extinct) “social workers” were assigned to dispense the fuel and managed to reduce the pilfering for a while.*
Some years later, a bank manager whose office overlooked a parking lot, told me enthusiastically that he was seriously considering changing his profession, that he was ready to exchange his shirt and tie for a ragged pullover.
From his office, the number cruncher could see a parking lot attendant perform his maneuvers outside, directing cars in and out of parking spaces, welcoming and waving off vehicles that came into the lot, while seated on a low wall under the bank manager’s window.
In that spot, which the attendant probably thought was very private, the little man counted the morning’s receipts every noontime, as the bank manager watched from above. And then the man opened his cardboard lunch box, which usually contained pork chops, rice and beans, and salad — a 25-peso treat.
“The fact is,” the bank manager told me, “that that man earned more and ate better than I did.”
More recently, a provincial surgeon friend of mine came to the same conclusion as he watched a cleaning woman push a mop up and down the halls and rooms of the hospital. According to him, she made more money cleaning public buildings than he did wielding a scalpel in the O.R.
Speaking of scalpel, a relative of mine who’s an anesthetist told me that she had seen a surgeon have a panic attack in the middle of an operation and be unable to complete the surgery. Another surgeon had to relieve him on the spot. The panic attack had been triggered by financial problems at home.
Of course, there have been some tepid moves in terms of monetary and other rewards to the medical professionals. The latest is that those who had Infomed (a caricature of the local Internet) now can get real Internet service for 25 hours a month. A step forward, to be sure.
The crowning touch to this interminable tale came to me after I read in the local press an article written by a former schoolmate at the university and a fellow writer.
In a well-written article, my colleague conveys to the reader the humanism of a pediatrician in Pinar del Río and his total devotion to the profession. The doctor is practically a saint descended from Glory to give round-the-clock help to those who need it.
Every day, after returning home from the hospital, Dr. Sergio Piloña carries to his front porch an old wooden table that serves as an examination table and — with a keen clinical eye — looks after the neighborhood children’s medical needs without charging a peso.
Often, the mothers who bring their children to the improvised exam room were once — as babies themselves — cared for by the good pediatrician.
Speaking with my colleague, Ronald Suárez, Dr. Piloña mentions calmly that he gets up every morning at 4 and thumbs a ride to the hospital, 16 miles away. The trip home is the same for this hitchhiker/doctor.
It shouldn’t be necessary to wait for the end of the blockade or for a medical mission abroad for this singular pediatrician to earn enough money to buy himself a car, an indispensable tool for his daily work.
Dr. Piloña’s attitude and devotion are more than enough to earn him a car — even if second-hand — for that daily 16-mile ride and even for an occasional drive to the beach.
It’s time to start setting aright that inverted pyramid in the Cuban public health system.
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*Translator’s Note: “Social workers” were unemployed youngsters who were assigned by the government to monitor the management of gasoline stations and perform other public-service tasks. The program was terminated in 2011.
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