Derek White

"Derek White has visited Guatemala but never a doctor. He can be found at

www.sleepingfish.net.

The Cerebellum Kennel

After the exploratory brain surgery, the doctors isolated my problem to a caterpillar. They extracted it and put it on display in a magnifying plastic box for anyone to see-a multihued caterpillar about three inches long. When I examined it up close, I noticed many other tiny caterpillars that were crawling between the long hairs on the main caterpillar. I couldn't believe this had actually been in my head at one point.

The doctors said it was a rare form of parasite. The only other person they had diagnosed it in was a Guatemalan woman that was in the same isolation ward. We were quarantined in neighboring rooms and I wasn't even aware of her until Dr. Goldstein told me. He wanted to interview us together to find any similarities that might corroborate our experiences and point to a common origin.

Felipa was already slouched in a plastic chair when Dr. Goldstein led me in to a conference room and placed the caterpillar on the table. She was dressed in a traditional huipil that typified her village, but the multicolored threading on her blouse was coming unraveled, and so was the bun of black hair on her head. She was missing a patch of hair in the back of her head where they had made the incision, but her hair had a chance to fill in somewhat, unlike my patch that was still clean-shaven. I tried to make small-talk with Felipa in Spanish, but evidently the operation had temporarily impaired the part of my brain responsible for secondary languages, and she also appeared to be sedated.

Dr. Goldstein interrupted my efforts and drilled through his questions... yes, I had been to Guatemala, but it was back in the late early 90s... no, I was never on a farm per se... of course I ate many of the native foods and food served off the street.

"Did you have any contact with Guatemalans?" he asked.

This whole time Felipa was in a blank stare at the encapsulated caterpillar that lay on the table in front of her.

"Of course I did," I answered. "How could I be in Guatemala and not have any contact with Guatemalans?"

"Perhaps I should be more precise-did you have any direct contact?"

"Are you trying to ask me if I had sex with any Guatemalans?"

Dr. Goldstein shrugged.

"Not that I can remember," I said. I had found Guatemalan women to be exceptionally beautiful, but it was the kind of beauty that was untouchable and reserved for museums.

"What was the closest contact you had with a Guatemalan?"

"In what terms-like did I make it to first or second base?" Then I remembered an experience that seemed insignificant at the time, but now seemed relevant. "Actually, I was in Guatemala once when I was about sixteen. My mother was on a buying trip, buying huipiles, the traditional blouses like the one that Felipa here has on." When I said huipiles, Felipa perked up and I became self-conscious. Could she understand what I was staying?

"And?" asked Dr. Goldstein.

"My mother wanted to collect a huipil from each village and region. At one village that I can't remember the name of, except that the blouse was embroidered blue and turquoise and gold, the only extra huipil this woman had was the one she was wearing. So my mom literally bought the shirt off her back.

"What happened to this, this blouse?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask my mom that question. She probably still has it in her personal collection. I doubt she sold that one."

That was the end of my questions. He brought in a translator to ask Felipa questions. What I didn't tell Dr. Goldstein was that the woman my mother bought the huipil from was wearing nothing underneath it. She took it off without hesitation or modesty. She was older and her breasts were starting to sag. I felt bad that my mother had purchased the shirt off her back, so I took off my plain white T-shirt and handed it to the woman. I wanted to take a picture, but didn't have a camera. But the image of the Guatemalan woman in my white T-shirt standing proudly next to my mother remains clear in my head to this day.

While he was asking Felipa the questions, I looked at the caterpillar. It was beginning to spin a chrysalis. I opened my mouth to point this out to Dr. Goldstein, but then closed it. It didn't matter now. The root of the problem had been removed and it was pointless to pinpoint the seed. Goldstein would de-brief the reporters later with sweeping generalizations. "This is pandemic, but isolated to a select few."

The only thing I was sure of was that I wasn't able to subjectively think about what was in my own head, let alone others.

Derek White