Note: This blog is part three in a four part series on the history of Therapy Clinics International (TCI). Click here for last week’s post.

How do you teach basic physical therapy skills to Guatemalans in Chichicastenango? How do you teach people with such a variety of educational levels and different experiences from my own? How do you teach Spanish and K’iche speakers when you can only share simple thoughts, such as my name is, I’m hungry, and where is the bathroom in Spanish? And maybe most challenging, especially for the girl that prefers jeans and pants to dresses and skirts, how do you teach physical therapy in a skirt? On my trip to Guatemala two years prior, we were asked to wear a skirt the day we visited ASELSI and I noticed Sharon worked in the clinic in a skirt and scrub top.

I gathered and began reviewing my notes from physical therapy school. I found some resources online and gathered other materials. I called a friend and borrowed five broomstick skirts. At least those are big enough I could tuck them under my legs in different ways. Just before leaving for the airport, I threw in a pair of scrubs and I was off. 

Sharon had also gathered materials in Spanish and had some books she had received from physical, occupational, and speech therapists in the United States. We spent a few hours getting things together the day before our first class. Neither one of us really knew what we were doing, but we were following Him as best we could. Sharon would be in the classes with me, not only managing start and stop times, but also serving as my translator. I mentioned my concern with not having done physical therapy in a skirt before. “You can’t do physical therapy in a skirt. I’ve told them all they have to wear pants,” she replied.

As we all gathered the next morning, a nervous excitement filled the air. This was a new experience for all of us. When Sharon told the women it was time for them to get dressed for class, uneasy giggles filled the air. For many, this was the first time they had worn pants. One woman, a pastor’s wife, had to make sure it was okay with her husband and their congregation before she agreed to take our class because of the custom of women not wearing pants. I was glad I had thrown in a pair of scrubs during my last-minute packing. 

I learned it didn’t matter I only had one pair of scrubs. Most everyone else wore the same clothes for our classes that week. 

… to be continued next week.