November 15, 2007
Today was very full. I rest in my house with thoughts about the reality here. Kai and I visited the poorest part of our community today, Le Islote, which is actually a very isolated community of its own. Unlike the other three sectors of the community, La Piedra, Santa Barbara, and El Cerrito, this community hasn’t benefited from the help of ANF. Le Islote is a peninsula that at times becomes an island, depending on the shifting sand. To get there we traveled through an inland estuary by wooden boat for about 45 minutes. The estuary is beautiful and full of wildlife. Once at Le Islote, we came ashore at one of the fisherman’s houses, Luis. Luis is considered a leader here, and was glad to show us around. There is no electricity, and houses are made out of plastic and reeds, or if you’re lucky scrap wood and metal. Families gather water to drink from the lake. There was no sign of cattle or pigs, only chickens to eat. The community itself consists of 14 houses, and around 75-78 people. Luis lives in a small metal house, wrapped with bits of newspaper to block the wind, which is the strongest this time of year. He said that he and 9 family members share the house, two of which were elders in their 80’s. FISE, a Nicaraguan project, installed latrines 1 month ago, which has improv
ed conditions quite a bit. Luis asked if we’d like to see their school, so we followed him the length of the beach to a little wooden shack with a dirt floor. There was a metal roof full of holes and the only light came when the door was open. Their teacher left, leaving 32 kids with no education. They had little hope of finding someone else, as no one in their community has the education to teach, and it’s hard to entice someone to come and live under such conditions. If people get sick, they have to make it to my part of the community via boat, usually with just oars. There is no option for emergencies. They would have to take a 45 minute boat ride (assuming the boat has a motor), and then try to find a ride to Rivas, a city with a hospital about another 45 minute drive. Family structure here is very traditional, with the fathers being responsible for all income and decisions, and the women and kids at home doing all housework. Women are constantly busy washing and cleaning because after all, we are in the tropics. Sweeping and cleaning your house and clothes are a daily business, as mold grows fast, and all kinds of critters inhabit the house, from toads to chickens.
We invited Luis to attend a meeting of community leaders tomorrow, at the church across from my house. ANF Project Staff will be conducting the meeting and formally introducing the Millennium Village Project and its implications to this community. With a population of 500 or so, in 4 different sub-communities, all quite different, I’ve got my work cut out for me, and I’m glad for ANF support. I’ve had smaller meetings, explaining my project and gathering support, but the idea of a Millennium Village has to be introduced by ANF, so as the community feels like they have support beyond my time here. It has taken some time just to come to this understanding with ANF, but now with clarification from the United Nations, I feel that we’re finally able to present a clear idea, and leave it in the community’s hands as to whether they wish to strive to be a Millennium Village. My primary objective then, is to bring the voice of the community to ANF through activities and strategic planning. They will then have to take the next steps and gain more governmental support.
On our way back to La Piedra, our part of El Menco, we traveled out into Lake Nicaragua amongst 8-10 foot waves and went around 2 protected islands. Kai loved it, rocking amongst the waves and getting soaked!
We returned home, ate a late lunch, and walked to the soccer field. Upon realizing that the game was over, we stopped by the health center on the way home. My friend Christian, a nurse, greeted us, and said she wasn’t doing too well because as she was staying late painting the center, a family brought her a very, very sick girl. Pamela is 2 years old, and had a fever of about 105 degrees F. She was completely lethargic. Christian had some Acedimedifin in liquid drops, but it wasn’t any match for the fever. There were no cars heading out to the entrance, and not many busses running to Rivas. With not much hope, I invited the family to my house to immerse the girl in cold water, as I have a small basin that worked. The family lived pretty far from the health center, so they took me up on the offer. We immediately stripped the girl down and put her in a tub, while she whimpered, not completely conscious. I grabbed some liquid Ibuprofen that I brought for Kai, and we immediately gave a dose to Pamela. Three baths and 40 minutes later, we had the fever down to about 103. Pamela came around and ate a piece of watermelon and started talking a little. Another half hour and we had the fever at about 102. With no other option, we sent them home with instructions for medication. I hope she improves over night, but it’s hard to know. The family doesn’t have a thermometer, so they don’t know how high the fever really is. Christian is only 24 years old, and usually works with another nurse, who is on vacation. She nervously returned to Dona Carmen’s house, where she stays during the week. The family plans on taking Pamela to the hospital at 6am, when the first ride leaves the community. I hope it’s not something more serious like Malaria, and I pray her fever breaks in the night. It’s so hard to see young kids so sick.
This is the reality here, and certainly I appreciate my privilege. If Kai were that sick I could afford an ambulance or a taxi from here to the hospital. This community suffers greatly though, especially the kids, as there is virtually no children’s medicine in the health center, or elsewhere in Nicaragua.
Well, as the night closes in, I’m ready to retire. Tomorrow is our meeting, and I want to be refreshed. Pamela is in my prayers.
Today was very full. I rest in my house with thoughts about the reality here. Kai and I visited the poorest part of our community today, Le Islote, which is actually a very isolated community of its own. Unlike the other three sectors of the community, La Piedra, Santa Barbara, and El Cerrito, this community hasn’t benefited from the help of ANF. Le Islote is a peninsula that at times becomes an island, depending on the shifting sand. To get there we traveled through an inland estuary by wooden boat for about 45 minutes. The estuary is beautiful and full of wildlife. Once at Le Islote, we came ashore at one of the fisherman’s houses, Luis. Luis is considered a leader here, and was glad to show us around. There is no electricity, and houses are made out of plastic and reeds, or if you’re lucky scrap wood and metal. Families gather water to drink from the lake. There was no sign of cattle or pigs, only chickens to eat. The community itself consists of 14 houses, and around 75-78 people. Luis lives in a small metal house, wrapped with bits of newspaper to block the wind, which is the strongest this time of year. He said that he and 9 family members share the house, two of which were elders in their 80’s. FISE, a Nicaraguan project, installed latrines 1 month ago, which has improv
ed conditions quite a bit. Luis asked if we’d like to see their school, so we followed him the length of the beach to a little wooden shack with a dirt floor. There was a metal roof full of holes and the only light came when the door was open. Their teacher left, leaving 32 kids with no education. They had little hope of finding someone else, as no one in their community has the education to teach, and it’s hard to entice someone to come and live under such conditions. If people get sick, they have to make it to my part of the community via boat, usually with just oars. There is no option for emergencies. They would have to take a 45 minute boat ride (assuming the boat has a motor), and then try to find a ride to Rivas, a city with a hospital about another 45 minute drive. Family structure here is very traditional, with the fathers being responsible for all income and decisions, and the women and kids at home doing all housework. Women are constantly busy washing and cleaning because after all, we are in the tropics. Sweeping and cleaning your house and clothes are a daily business, as mold grows fast, and all kinds of critters inhabit the house, from toads to chickens.We invited Luis to attend a meeting of community leaders tomorrow, at the church across from my house. ANF Project Staff will be conducting the meeting and formally introducing the Millennium Village Project and its implications to this community. With a population of 500 or so, in 4 different sub-communities, all quite different, I’ve got my work cut out for me, and I’m glad for ANF support. I’ve had smaller meetings, explaining my project and gathering support, but the idea of a Millennium Village has to be introduced by ANF, so as the community feels like they have support beyond my time here. It has taken some time just to come to this understanding with ANF, but now with clarification from the United Nations, I feel that we’re finally able to present a clear idea, and leave it in the community’s hands as to whether they wish to strive to be a Millennium Village. My primary objective then, is to bring the voice of the community to ANF through activities and strategic planning. They will then have to take the next steps and gain more governmental support.
On our way back to La Piedra, our part of El Menco, we traveled out into Lake Nicaragua amongst 8-10 foot waves and went around 2 protected islands. Kai loved it, rocking amongst the waves and getting soaked!We returned home, ate a late lunch, and walked to the soccer field. Upon realizing that the game was over, we stopped by the health center on the way home. My friend Christian, a nurse, greeted us, and said she wasn’t doing too well because as she was staying late painting the center, a family brought her a very, very sick girl. Pamela is 2 years old, and had a fever of about 105 degrees F. She was completely lethargic. Christian had some Acedimedifin in liquid drops, but it wasn’t any match for the fever. There were no cars heading out to the entrance, and not many busses running to Rivas. With not much hope, I invited the family to my house to immerse the girl in cold water, as I have a small basin that worked. The family lived pretty far from the health center, so they took me up on the offer. We immediately stripped the girl down and put her in a tub, while she whimpered, not completely conscious. I grabbed some liquid Ibuprofen that I brought for Kai, and we immediately gave a dose to Pamela. Three baths and 40 minutes later, we had the fever down to about 103. Pamela came around and ate a piece of watermelon and started talking a little. Another half hour and we had the fever at about 102. With no other option, we sent them home with instructions for medication. I hope she improves over night, but it’s hard to know. The family doesn’t have a thermometer, so they don’t know how high the fever really is. Christian is only 24 years old, and usually works with another nurse, who is on vacation. She nervously returned to Dona Carmen’s house, where she stays during the week. The family plans on taking Pamela to the hospital at 6am, when the first ride leaves the community. I hope it’s not something more serious like Malaria, and I pray her fever breaks in the night. It’s so hard to see young kids so sick.
This is the reality here, and certainly I appreciate my privilege. If Kai were that sick I could afford an ambulance or a taxi from here to the hospital. This community suffers greatly though, especially the kids, as there is virtually no children’s medicine in the health center, or elsewhere in Nicaragua.
Well, as the night closes in, I’m ready to retire. Tomorrow is our meeting, and I want to be refreshed. Pamela is in my prayers.
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