Everyone working there, except the pediatrician, spoke two or more languages.
For each young patient, staff would crystallize the medical issue, a terse "chief complaint,"
using the parents' own words, on why they were bothering to see a Western doctor,
even when the children didn't, wouldn't or couldn't complain for themselves.
It's a parent's concern, via a native vernacular, through an interpreter's ear,
twisted with some medical phrasing, a flashing linguistic triple flip,
leaving the doctor to decipher the situation for clinical intervention,
one further contortion in the tumbling run, with the full expectation of a two footed landing.
And this young one predicted earthquakes. Taller and chubbier than expected,
the child hovered outside the door, apparently shy about entering the exam room,
already crowded with adults: his mother, an aunt, an interpreter and a doctor.
He reportedly described earthquakes often; his uncanny timing with the big one scared people.
He spoke no English, and hardly spoke at all, rocking, snuffling and...
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