Austonia daily newsletter—direct to your inbox 6 a.m.
Join the 250,000+ others who rely on Austonia for local news, info and fun
×
(Christa McWhirter)
Staff prepare vaccine doses at the Delco Activity Center in Northeast Austin on Saturday.
Austin Public Health plans to have its COVID-19 vaccine appointment scheduling system back up and running by Thursday evening after the department shut down the system late Monday due to technical issues.
Due to the delays, APH tweeted that it will likely need to add an additional day of appointment scheduling outside of its typical release schedule, with appointments dropping on Monday and Thursday evenings.
The technical issues emerged during the Monday evening release period, when APH had 6,000 appointments available for scheduling. "After working with our vendor for multiple hours, it appears there is no immediate fix we can make," the department tweeted. "Unfortunately this means we must end scheduling." As a result, only 2,300 appointments were scheduled at the time, according to a statement issued by the city.
APH provided an update on Tuesday, tweeting that it had identified the issue and was working with its vendor, Salesforce, to get the program up and running in time for the regularly scheduled Thursday release. However, due to the issues, APH does not know who was in the queue on Monday when the issues arose; the department is working to identify those individuals to schedule appointments, a spokesperson told Austonia.
Remaining appointment slots for Friday and Saturday are still scheduled to be released Thursday evening.
APH's scheduling system has been mired by technical glitches since its debut in mid-January. City staff have worked with the Salesforce team to work on improvements, including a new queuing system, but users continue to report issues—and frustration— with the rollout.
Tara Morales commented on a recent APH Facebook update about her experience. "I've been helping my entire family through the process and feel awful that I sent them the rundown for them only to waste their time," she wrote late Tuesday evening. "I'm getting really tired of spending ALL EVENING Mondays and Thursdays to be so disappointed."
She wasn't alone. "And everyone that waited 6 hours in line only to be booted has to go to the back of the line and try again?!" Brandon Bosserman commented. "Talk about a massive fail. Your should be ashamed. Everyone done it better."
Others wrote that they had had better experiences with local providers such as the University of Texas at Austin, Williamson County and CVS.
"After 3 times waiting hours on APH site and getting no where I went on UT site Monday morning, scheduled appointments for Tuesday afternoon," Chris Thompson commented. "An hour plus to wander through the cue, second dose scheduled at the same time."
In addition to the tech issues, APH continues to face demand that far outstrips its supply of available vaccine doses. Since being designated a hub provider by the state in January, the department has received 12,000 initial doses each week. More than 200,000 people are registered on APH's waitlist who qualify for a vaccine under groups 1A and 1B or as an educator—and are still waiting for an appointment, Austin-Travis County Interim Health Authority Dr. Mark Escott told Austonia on Saturday.
State officials also recently expanded eligibility to include residents ages 50 to 64 under group 1C, which APH estimates will add an additional 200,000 or so people on its waitlist to the priority population. "There's not enough vaccine to go around right at the moment," he said.
Although APH did not make appointments available to those in group 1C on Monday, the department is working to make modifications to its scheduling system to allow it to prioritize registrants in that category, according to a statement issued Saturday.
Read more on APH glitches here:
Travis County's first drive-thru vaccine clinic provided hundreds of vaccines to community
From Your Site Articles
- Austin healthcare offering COVID-19 vaccine waitlists - austonia ›
- Everything we know about Austin's COVID vaccine rollout - austonia ›
- Austin Public Health debuts COVID vaccine sign-up list - austonia ›
Related Articles Around the Web
Popular
Radhia Gleis bore the tales of Buddhafield life in her book, "The Followers," and the documentary, "Holy Hell." (Holy Hell)
Although it was Buddhafield, a movement that has been called a cult by a host of ex-followers, that brought Gleis to the Hill Country, the group's Austin presence has diminished to almost nothing. After over two decades in the group, Gleis revealed it all in her first-place PenCraft award-winning book, "The Followers, 'Holy Hell' and the Disciples of Narcissistic Leaders" in which she talks about the dangers of groupthink and the impact that spending years in the Buddhafield cult had on her.
Gleis now works as a clinical nutritionist and is working on healing through her art. (radiagleis.com)
From a "well-to-do" family in California, Gleis was learning how to make cocktails for wealthy dinner guests shortly after she learned how to walk. She grew up emotionally distant from her parents and only brother; Gleis vividly remembered being called "dopey" by her father, consistently forgotten by her mother and held at knifepoint by her brother.
Needless to say, Gleis grew up without secure connections. On top of that, she grew up in the 1960s and '70s during mass cultural upheaval, the free love movement and obsession with Eastern religions.
"There were these desires to expand your thinking, expand your consciousness as opposed to the 'Leave it to Beaver' kind of paradigm," Gleis told Austonia. "There was a rebellion, a schism in the culture."
She had become interested in the idea of nirvana when she was in high school, so when a friend told her about spirituality sessions with a beautiful woman named Malila who claimed to have experienced God directly, her interest was piqued.
Her experiences with Malila threw her into the spiritual realm. Gleis met Jaime Gomez, the would-be leader of the Buddhafield cult who went by many names, in the early 1980s through a friend of Malila's in California. Gomez, a native of Venezuela, was known to often wear only eyeliner and a speedo in his prime and when Gleis met him, he was clad only in a golden tan, skin-tight jeans and a small vest.
The Shakti scam
Gomez originally began guiding members through an independent spiritual journey but flags were raised when he began to see himself as a godlike figure. (WRA Productions LLC)
Her initiation was subtle—it started as just a group of friends who followed Gomez, a young yogi with a small but growing following, to learn techniques of "The Knowing" that he possessed. Members were initiated via "shakti," a godly transfer of power that opened your third eye. Members would "pranam," or deeply bow to show respect, to God during the first four years of Gleis' time with Gomez.
The initiation started as a relationship between the individual and their "divine birthright" through God.
"Generations were trying to get Shakti from him, they were trying to get his energy," Gleis said. "He was like, 'Whatever you experience in your initiation is between you and God, it has nothing to do with me.'"
Things started to change at the next initiation when Gomez had new members pranam to him and connect to his love, not the divine love they had come seeking.
"He would say, 'Well, Radhia, some people, not you, need a living person they can touch and see and talk to, I am just being that for them,'" Gleis said. "So he considered himself now a living deity like Jesus or Krishna or Buddha."
Although she did not support the pranam to Gomez, the shift was harrowing. While Gomez was a "skilled sociopath," Gleis said, he was also her friend and she was his close adviser; he knew all of her' hopes, dreams, fears and how to keep her around.
"If you go to Disneyland, it's a fantasy, but you're willing to forgo your disbelief for the fun, for the ride," Gleis said. "But what if you don't know it's fake? What if all your friends and all your family are in on it? And the one person that you revere the most is creating the illusion?"
It would take years for Gleis to learn Gomez was secretly taking advantage of members in the group.
The domino effect
The Buddhafield waltzed into Austin from West Hollywood in the late '90s after accusations against Gomez came out, Gleis would later learn. She found out that later that multiple members alleged that Gomez sexually abused them, and it was a pattern of his to jump ship and change his name once people started speaking out.
There were a few reasons the group chose Austin: their new home had to be in a warm climate, near a body of water, full of rich culture and jobs.
Having been in the cult for over a decade, the Austin move had triggered a need to build a life outside Buddhafield for Gleis. The connections she made outside the "family" she had made for herself led her to visit the home of an injured member of Buddhafield, where she says she was greeted by two men who told her tales of Gomez's transgressions.
Tales of Gomez attempting to hypnotize male members of the group into removing their clothes, which Gomez would deny, and his penchant for using the AIDS crisis to scare members into silence came to light. It was a feat in and of itself to tell a single soul about the things the victims had experienced, let alone make formal charges.
Among the victims was Will Allen, who released the documentary "Holy Hell," made from hours of his own original footage, in 2016 to detail his experiences.
The women in the group were untouched to Gleis' knowledge and some of the victims took years to gain the courage to speak out.
"Now it was like dominoes, it was like this was our #MeToo movement. When this guy came out, now all of a sudden, I'm getting phone calls because the rumors spread," Gleis said. "It was very heartbreaking—I started hearing all these stories of what (Gomez) had done and all the secrets that all of these men had been holding, these traumas that they had been holding in for years."
That was her line in the sand—so, at 55 years old, Gleis left Buddhafield, "alone and forsaken." And she has learned a good deal about herself since then—she works as a clinical nutritionist but left all of her friends behind, with no one to fall on but herself.
It has been 15 years since her departure—15 years to ponder how she was manipulated into that place. Gleis often compares those two decades of her life to Trumpism, where Gomez had tapped into her preconceived notions and led her to believe what she wanted to believe.
As someone who grew up not knowing love, it made sense to jump headfirst into the sense of community and protection that Buddhafield offered.
"We have to be careful when we use words like 'brainwashed.' We went willingly. Jaime didn't torture us. He didn't brainwash us," Gleis said. "All he did as a narcissist—he figured out what we were all thinking about and he became that for us. When you pranam to him, which we did, then he becomes bolder. That's what a sociopath does."
Gleis details her story of what led her in and out of Buddhafield in her book, "The Followers." Gomez and certain members who are still connected to Buddhafield have moved on to Hawai'i, but Gleis remains in Austin and is currently working on a children's novella.
Enjoying Austonia? Signup for our newsletter to get daily Austin news, straight to your morning inbox!
From Your Site Articles
- Buc-ee's avoids national workers shortage with benefits - austonia ›
- Austin companies that cracked the Fortune 500, 1000 list - austonia ›
- Alex Jones goes viral yelling at lifeguards at greenbelt entrance ... ›
- How Buc-ee's became a cult favorite around the world - austonia ›
Related Articles Around the Web
