ALMA. Home for the elderly needy of San Miguel. Tel: 15-2-28-66 or 15-2-72-10

Audubon Society. A bicultural organization working to preserve the ecosystem. Tel: 15-2-57-94 or 15-2-24-35

Biblioteca Publica. San Miguel public library. Tel: 15-2-02-93

C.A.S.A. Medical, social service and family planning for needy families. Tel: 15-2-26-88

Casa Ayuda. Helps with education, health care, clothes, food and education for needy children. Tel: 15-2-42-02

When friends and family learned my husband and I were moving to Mexico with our 15-month-old daughter, Eleanor, the biggest concern was for her health. In the U.S., Mexico carries many stereotypes; one of the most popular we have encountered is the alleged lack of proper health care. This story, set on the third day of our life in San Miguel, defies that stereotype and-we hope-challenges our fellow Americans to expand their perspective.

Lacking health insurance and a decent map, we set out on a recent Tuesday afternoon in search of an apartment to rent. Eleanor was riding on my shoulders, and my husband was trailing a few steps behind me. With my eyes peeled on the houses and strange street signs, I tripped on one of the jutting cobblestones one finds on just about every calle in San Miguel. In a micro-instant, my world literally came crashing down, beginning with my body, sprawling suddenly forward in the street, followed by Eleanor’s trusting little body, which landed head first on the cobblestones. Unfortunately, I was OK and she wasn’t. A large cut had opened above her right eye, but all I saw was a mask of red over her entire face, and all I heard was her screaming.

Panic set in quickly: my husband picked up our bleeding sweetheart and ran back down the street, not having any idea where he was going or what he was going to do. Seconds later, a Mexican man stopped his big white car, gently asked his wife and daughter to get out, and told us-all three of us covered in blood–to get in. He took us through bumpy back roads directly to Hospital de la Fe, no questions asked.

The hospital staff quickly, and calmly, guided us into the emergency room, where Doctor Diaz attended Eleanor immediately, stitching her wound with stone-still hands. Later, he had a harder time placating the fraught parents. The head trauma, he told us, was only superficial – it looked much worse than it was. And, he reminded us, this happens to many, many children. I realized later, as we were checking out in an efficient exchange of cash and receipt, that Dr. Diaz had cared for us as much as he had cared for Eleanor. The entire process was blessedly free of waiting rooms, red tape and rude-or worse, callous–receptionists.

To end it all, we were waiting for a taxi when a hospital administrator offered us a ride home. I’ve never been shown so much kindness, by friends or strangers. Many American friends have since suggested that, in most American cities, Eleanor would have suffered a long wait before getting medical attention–and forget about the Samaritan motorist entirely. So for those who question the health care in Mexico, I say, consider our story, question American bureaucracy, and give Mexico a chance.

As my husband wisely said before the accident, the unknown is very knowable here. Since that dreaded day, I have spoken to numerous people who have either come to San Miguel to be cured of illness (whether by hospital or weather), or have had similar experiences to ours. We are thankful that we chose to relocate to this area, and although we hope Eleanor never remembers the accident, we hope she will grow up respecting the wonderful people of this country.