While in Choluteca, we drove by sugar cane farms. Their rows felt nearly endless. The larger fields had plants that looked to be 6-7 feet high and created an impassable thicket. When I first saw these fields, I couldn’t figure out what they were. After asking my co-workers I thought of coursework from lectures and readings about the history of Central and Latin America. Earlier in the year, I had read the books Open Veins of Latin America by Eduardo Galeano and The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein. Both of these books focus on understanding the regional history and complex veil that has surrounded Central and Latin American development. During the colonization of these countries, sugar cane plantations started appearing anywhere it could grow. This resource was an integral part to the exploitation of both the land and local people. These plantations, tempted by greed, failed to rotate their crops. As a result, the consecutive harvests removed essential nutrients from the soil. Following this period farmers struggled to diversify their farms as they relied on commercial farming inputs (fertilizer, insecticide, and weed killers). It was humbling to drive by families in adobe houses, knowing that history has barely changed.
While living abroad for more than 1 month, it is almost certain that you will get sick. Thankfully I had nothing dangerous or life-debilitating illness; however, it took me 2 days to recover. For this reason, I am doing a combined update between week 5 and 6. At the end of week 5, I had 3 blood tests and visited 2 doctors. I was diagnosed with Travelers Disease, otherwise known as Montezuma’s Revenge (it’s a much better name, as gringos tend to be the one contracting this disease). The first doctor I saw told me I could have anything ranging from Dengue, Chikungunya, Zika, to influenza. This was difficult to hear, as my initial reaction was to deny anything more serious than the flu. In addition to that I have received e-mails and read articles about the latest Dengue outbreak in Honduras.
A day later my diagnosis was confirmed. I was prescribed drug which helped cure the effects within hours. Knowing that my disease could be nearly anything, I feel ecstatic to come out unscathed.
These weeks I visited the departments Choluteca and Colón. While in Choluteca, we entered several different communities with the organization FunDeSur. Our outreaches were set up in public health offices whose walls were decorated with homemade posters describing family planning, high blood pressure, Zika, and basic epidemiological efforts. There were posters of the neighbourhoods, mapping which houses contained diabetics, hypertensive patients, and kids. In our other outreach locations (churches), I haven’t seen any other form of public health information.
From witnessing the lack of education, I know increased efforts to connect individuals to this information can help reduce the rate of preventable diseases. There are many barriers to these ideas as many patients cannot read or write. These efforts would have to be replayable on mobile devices or delivered in person. Whichever intervention is chosen, I know it will come at a cost these offices cannot afford. Sustainable health care delivery is difficult in communities that are not profitable. The delivery of these services should be reframed for their potential impact on the communities productivity and welfare. These communities are living without an accessible source of potable water. A majority of the people in these communities purchase 16-ounce pouches of water. Being their only clean source, they are reliant on these items. Furthermore, many of these people are living without electricity; thus, no automatic tools, refrigerator, stove, or television.
The clock is starting to wind down as I only have 2 more weeks with the Zoe Health Clinic. It saddens me to leave this beautiful country. Two of the most common questions I get are:
“Do you like Honduras?”
“Yes I love the people, food, and nature”
My response is very much to their surprise. Without delay they ask:
“When are you coming back here?”
“Whenever I can get the money.”
During my first month, I was scared. Scared of the danger portrayed in the news. Scared of the language barrier. Scared of unknown foods. In this time I have grown out from my comfort zone. While the learning curve is steep I have grown to understand the transformation process. Locals here are not any different from I and I from them. We all sleep, rise, work, and repeat. In some sense, the connection we build with each other is all we can claim as our own.
