A while ago, I entered a writing contest to win a trip to Costa Rica. No, I didn’t win, but I’d like to re-post my slightly edited entry. It’s about my family vacation in Uganda, where I contracted malaria. See some of the pics below.

Side note: The malaria that I got is contagious in no way, shape or form. It does not recur. Once treated properly, it’s out of your system. I got it from an infected female Anopheles mosquito. And yes, you can still get malaria if you are taking the preventative  pills.

Malaria Takes the Bite Out of Ethnocentricity

What thoughts come to mind when you think of the word “vacation”? When you think of a family vacation, does being catapulted out of a river raft down class five rapids on the Nile, drinking unpasteurized and warm goat’s milk, getting stuck in the mud in the middle of the rainforest and contracting the deadliest form of malaria come to mind? Most people would undoubtedly say no, but in December of 2006, this is what happened with my family in Uganda. As an adventure-loving family, we got everything we could have asked for and more.

Uganda is a country so beautiful that it is deemed “the pearl of Africa” in several prominent guidebooks and online sites. The irony: not one native Ugandan, including our guide, knew what a pearl was. From the savannah plains filled with elephants, giraffes, and zebras, to the Nile River filled with crocodiles and hippos, to the capital, filled with the hustle and bustle of city life, this was an unforgettable experience.

Making the trip even more unforgettable, I became extremely sick to my stomach at two o’clock in the morning on the last day of our excursion. The bathroom floor quickly became my bed, as I could barely move due to a high fever, weakness, and continued nausea. Thinking this was just a bad case of traveler’s sickness, I took the prescribed medicine that my doctor had given me in case something like this happened. Fifteen minutes later, that medicine was back in the toilet, and I continued to lie on the floor in agony, waiting for daylight to break.

The buzz from the staff at the hotel was that I had malaria. What a preposterous idea we thought. What did they know? I had been taking malaria pills. Of course I didn’t have malaria. There was only one way to find out: take me to a nearby health clinic.

So, off to the health clinic they took me. This was no first-world health clinic; this was a primitive place, fully equipped with antiquated equipment, dirty concrete floors, open windows with no screens, no air conditioning, and mosquitoes itching for a victim. What was I getting myself into? I was repelled. Maybe I should have just stayed back at the hotel. Scratch that idea. I felt too sick.

Upon waiting 20 minutes, I went in to see the doctor. She immediately told me I had malaria. How did she know? How could she just wing it and tell me I had malaria without a blood test? Then it came … the blood test.

My blood was examined under an old microscope. The doctor, without hesitation, with little to no affect, and with a serious lack of comforting bedside manner, bluntly asserted that I had contracted the deadliest and most common form of malaria, from the plasmodium falciparum protozoan parasite, only spread by the female anopheles mosquito in certain regions of the world. After significant panic set in, I was told that I would be fine with the right medicine and that it is actually fairly common for people to still contract malaria when taking malaria pills.

Luckily, the shot and the strong antibiotics they administered had me feeling great in record time. By the last leg of our long flight home from Amsterdam to Los Angeles, I had almost forgotten that I had contracted one of the deadliest diseases in the world.

Malaria can incubate for months. I was glad to have contracted it in the host country. If the disease had surfaced in the United States, the doctors may have just dismissed it as a bad case of the stomach flu. How fortunate I was to be able to get the treatment I needed. My naivety about the sickness and my poor judgment of the doctor’s skills initially blurred my view about how to handle the situation. However, I can now happily say that I made the right decision by putting my trust in the Ugandan doctor. She saved my life.

The missing link here was indeed trust. Malaria is one of the biggest killers in Africa. This doctor sees cases of it every day. I learned to trust the locals because they know much more about my surroundings than I do. This experience taught me to be aware of my ethnocentric mindset and not let differences “bug me” or inappropriately color my perceptions.

My ability to keep an open mind and put my confidence in the natives has greatly contributed to my appreciation for adventuresome travel experiences. In fact, I would be happy to do this trip all over again, mosquitoes, malaria and all.

Incredible Scenery

Don't Mess With That Croc!

Don't Mess With the Hippo Either!

Just Us and Nature

Giraffe - So Elegant

Elephants

A Very Muddy Buffalo

Zebra

Baboon

Chimp

Lion

Gorgeous Lake

River Rafting

Curious Kids Looking At Their Photo On The Digital Camera

My palangga just turned two! It’s amazing that someone young like him has already lived in two continents: Asia and Africa, as well as traveled to Thailand, Philippines, and the United States more than once.

And so here we are now in Lagos, Nigeria. The job offer and benefits package were hard to resist. But in the back of my mind I constantly worry if we were putting our child at risk. Malaria and the quality of medical care and services are the biggest concern of most parents here. We give him a medicine (mefloquine)  every week, but know of two other colleagues with toddlers who don’t use any anti-malaria medication because they are concerned about side effects from long-term use of prophylaxis. We wrestled with the decision, but seeing how James is prone to mosquito bites we decided that malaria was or is a more imminent threat.

When he got sick with cough, cold, and fever during our first week here I wasted no time in bringing him to a doctor. That turned out to be a false alarm, because the doctor said the gestation period for malaria takes weeks. Then we met several expat families have been here for years — six, 12, even 20, and all their kids seem to be doing well. So we got careless, and occasionally forgot to give our baby his medicine on time. But I’m relieved we have been back on schedule for the last three weeks. He’s sick again, coughing and throwing up. But he’s still in playful mood, and seem to be responding to Tylenol. And I’m keeping my fingers crossed and praying. That’s life here — you don’t take fevers for granted.

It was different in Pakistan — we lived 5 minutes away from the clinic where he was born. His pediatrician helped deliver him and knows his history. There are also many doctors in islamabad who were trained in the US and UK. We’ve only been in Lagos for three months, and we already heard of several people (and a dog) who had to be medivac’d for treatment elsewhere.

So dear God, I hope it’s just a regular fever.

Read the new papers published in PLoS Medicine this week, including a Research Article that discusses the effects of genital ulcer disease and herpes simplex virus type 2 on the efficacy of male circumcision for HIV prevention, an Essay that argues that less data are available on the health of the poor than of the rich, and a Policy Forum that covers the ethical issues associated with data released from genome-wide association studies in developing countries.

Also published this week is the November Editorial, in which the PLoS Medicine Editors discuss shortages of artemisinin-based combination therapy in Africa at the point of care. And we publish the third Essay in a series on evaluating eHealth that considers the evaluation of health IT systems as they are rolled out following pre-implementation testing. (The previous two papers in the series, which discussed international collaborations in eHealth evaluation research and the need for continuous systemic evaluation of eHealth interventions, are also highlighted on the homepage).

You can comment on, annotate and rate this week’s PLoS Medicine articles and any of the others in the archive.

Donor Dependence Hurting HIV/Aids Programmes-NAC

DEPENDENCE on donor funding has become a threat to sustaining HIV/AIDS programmes in Zambia, the latest National AIDS Council (NAC) Joint Mid-Term Review (JMTR) strategic framework report for 2006-2008 has shown.

Fonte: AIM

Agência de Notícias de Resposta ao Sida – 23.11.2009

Bono and his wife, Ali Hewson, have launched their own socially conscious fashion label

Not long ago, ethical fashion had an image problem. No one wanted to wear baggy-bottomed Thai fisherman’s trousers or an ecru smock top. Unflattering and unappealing, eco-fashion was best left to eco-warriors.

But there has been a definite swing over the past year. Ethical consumerism – from buying products made from recycled or renewable sources to supporting companies that adhere to fair trade principles – is on the rise. It is now cool to care.

So cool in fact, that the latest edition of Vogue has devoted 10 pages to ethical clothing. And London Fashion Week, which starts next week, will include an exhibition space dedicated to 13 ethical labels.

But it’s the celebrities behind the movement who are really making a difference. They’ve made ethical consumerism sexy. One is Bono. Last year, along with his wife, Ali Hewson, and designer Rogan Gregory, he launched Edun, a socially conscious fashion label.

Its clothes are made in locally run factories in Africa, South America and India and the company promotes trade rather than aid. The range is brilliantly designed: this autumn there are beautiful Art Nouveau printed silk dresses, elegant tie-neck chiffon blouses, urban skinny jeans and denim trench coats.

This year Bono also launched Project Red, a collaboration between Armani, Amex, Converse, Motorola and Gap. Each brand markets covetable and ecologically sound products under the Red banner; profits are donated to a fund fighting Aids, malaria and TB in Africa.

Project RED’s unofficial face is Scarlett Johansson, who appears in October’s issue of Vogue wearing Armani’s designs for the charity. The actress told the magazine: “We don’t have to live in a teepee and wear a hemp skirt to be conscious about what’s going on. Maybe somebody thinks, ‘It’s cool that she’s wearing the Red T-shirt, I’ll hop over to Gap and pick one up’.”

Gap, which launched the T-shirts in the spring ( parkas, hoodies and jeans will follow) isn’t the only store turning out fashionable and ethically produced clothes. Last week saw the launch of Adili, a website devoted to the top 25 ethical fashion labels, including Ciel, Patagonia, HUG and People Tree, which has a concession in Topshop, Oxford Circus.

People Tree has given the movement a boost with Trudie Styler as its new face. It has designed T-shirts in conjunction with Action Aid; 10 per cent of profits will go to help raise Fair Trade awareness in Asia, Africa and the Americas.

Small, independent fashion labels have also furrowed the green path. Brighton-based Enamore sells everything from pretty hand-made kimono tops to delicate hemp knickers ( far more appealing than they sound).

Chic shoes can be found at ethical boutiques such as Terra Plana, which designs shoes with recycled materials. And rather than squeezing into jeans made from cotton cultivated with pesticides, consumers can now choose brands such as Loomstate, whose eco-friendly designer jeans are sold at Harvey Nichols and Urban Outfitters.

Larger companies are catching on. Timberland, which sells eco-friendly footwear made with vegetable tanned leather and recycled rubber soles, is launching a reforestation project – it will plant one tree for each pair of boots sold.

And Marks & Spencer, which recently commissioned a survey that found that 78 per cent of shoppers wanted to know more about the way products were made, has just launched its own Fair Trade line.

Tesco, meanwhile, is to sell a range of organic clothing designed by Katherine Hamnett, a long-time crusader for ethical fashion.

Of course, it can be argued that eco-fashion is an oxymoron. How can eco-friendliness fit with so ephemeral an industry? The most significant progress should perhaps come from consumers: buying less, and more ethically, could be the most ecologically sound way to shop.

Source: Telegraph.co.uk, Author: Clare Coulson

There’s a large fruit bat in Leonie’s tree. They occur in the northern Caprivi but here? Not seen before. It seems perfectly happy and we’ll definitely keep it that way. It’s just strange to see it here. Perhaps it hitched a lift in one of the lorries? I’m not sure. I’ll let you know how it gets on. Our bat box is finally properly populated. Mosquito count is seriously down. Build bat boxes is this Blog’s sound advice, especially in malarial regions which have suffered deforestation denying bats roosting space. Affix the bat boxes to telegraph polls or high inaccessible areas so that people cannot conveniently steal them. I am advised by Namibia’s primary small mammals expert that some local bat species can consume 6,000 mosquitoes a night. DDT? Chuck it! Go for bat boxes. Bring back the bats, say I, and let the anopheles mosquito (the malarial vector) provide a few square meals for these helpful guys.

PS I’ll post some bat box construction techniques soon. My problem is that bats come in different shapes and sizes and like different bat boxes. I don’t want to steer people in the wrong direction. In the meantime if anybody has good bat-box related ideas I’d really like to hear them. I like bats. Not just because they eat mosquitoes but because they add a little more interest and magic to an evening. I love their subtle silent aerobatics.

The way they fly. And come and vanish.

I’ll profile Arnheim Cave soon. Bats galore and a a rather terrifying cave expedition. An easy day trip fromWindhoek but a very mysterious cave. Biggest and deepest in Namibia.

Cheers!

Bloomberg News (http://tinyurl.com/global-warming-and-depression 11/20, Efstathiou) reports that “kidney stones, malaria, Lyme disease, depression and respiratory illness all may increase with global warming, researchers at Harvard Medical School said.” Bloomberg adds, “Climate change from the burning of fossil fuels will add to risks to public health, said Paul Epstein, associate director of Harvard’s Center for Health and the Global Environment in Boston.” Today, “the center and groups led by the American Medical Association are presenting data at a briefing…in Washington as a call for action to curb emissions.”

By MARGIE MASON, AP Medical Writer – Thu Nov 19, 3:01 pm ET
AP – FILE -This Dec. 7, 2008 file photo shows children collecting stagnant water for use at home in Glen View, …

HANOI, Vietnam – Diarrhea doesn’t make headlines. Nor does pneumonia. AIDS and malaria tend to get most of the attention.

Yet even though cheap tools could prevent and cure both diseases, they kill an estimated 3.5 million kids under 5 each a year globally — more than HIV and malaria combined.

“They have been neglected, because donor or partnership mechanisms shifted their emphasis to HIV and AIDS and other issues,” said Dr. Tesfaye Shiferaw, a UNICEF official in Africa. “These age-old traditional killers remain with us. The ones dying are the children of the poor.”

Global spending on maternal, newborn and child health was about $3.5 billion in 2006, according to a report by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. That same year, nearly $9 billion was devoted to HIV and AIDS, according to UNAIDS.

Pneumonia is the biggest killer of children under 5, claiming more then 2 million lives annually or about 20 percent of all child deaths. AIDS, in contrast, accounts for about 2 percent.

If identified early, pneumonia can be treated with inexpensive antibiotics. Yet UNICEF and the World Health Organization estimate less than 20 percent of those sickened receive the drugs.

A vaccine has been available since 2000 but has not yet reached many children in developing countries. The GAVI Alliance, a global partnership, hopes to introduce it to 42 countries by 2015.

Diarrheal diseases, such as cholera and rotavirus, kill 1.5 million kids each year, most under 2 years old. The children die from dehydration, weakened immune systems and malnutrition. Often they get sick from drinking dirty water.

The worst cholera outbreak to hit Africa in 15 years killed more than 4,000 people in Zimbabwe last year. The country recently reported new cases of the waterborne disease, and more are expected as the rainy season peaks and sewers overflow.

Rotavirus, a highly contagious disease spread through contaminated hands and surfaces, is the top cause of severe diarrhea, accounting for more than a half million child deaths a year.

A vaccine routinely given to children in the U.S. and Europe is expected to reach 44 poorer countries by 2015 through the GAVI Alliance.

“Every child in the United States gets it, even though they have access to clean water and hygiene,” said John Wecker, of the Program for Appropriate Technology in Health, a Seattle-based nonprofit that is part of the vaccine alliance. “The only effective way to prevent these deaths is through vaccination.”

Diarrheal diseases received more attention in the 1980s and 1990s, he said, but interest has waned or been diverted elsewhere, allowing them to creep back.

“How did the leading killers end up at the bottom of the global health agenda? I don’t know,” Wecker said at a recent GAVI meeting in Hanoi. “We’ve got the tools. We’re not looking for the next technological breakthrough. It’s here now and it’s not being used.”

Death can often be prevented by giving children fluid replacement, a simple recipe of salt and sugar mixed with clean water to help ward off dehydration. Yet 60 percent of children with diarrhea never receive the concoction, according to a WHO and UNICEF report released last month.

“It is so preventable,” said Dr. Richard Cash, a Harvard University expert who helped develop the oral rehydration therapy 40 years ago. “Preventing the deaths is at the very least what we should be striving for.”

After only two days in Monrovia and barely acclimatized to the culture, The MENTOR team set off to Zwedru – a 20,000+ town near the Sierra Leone border to review one of the sentinel sites.  This sentinel site is a major Ministry of Health funded hospital which reports on malaria cases through MENTOR cooperation.  The hospital is also co-funded by MERLIN.

Planning to leave at 7am, the driver was not ready and we left closer to 8am.  Though it seems like a minor delay, time is crucial when heading out into the field or “the bush” as it is called.  Darkness is not a favourable place to be.

The damaged paved roads are lined with a red ferrous shoulder but soon the shoulder became the road and the black of asphalt is replaced by deeply pitted holes while red dust is carried through the car windows to cake our skin and clothes.  The dust reminds me of travelling through the Australian outback but, unlike the outback, there are many mud huts, houses with zinc corrugated roofs and a littering of defunct and broken down cars.  Many cars lined the roadside and stripped of everything but their frame but there are many others which were newly broken down with hordes of passengers gathering around the cars and trucks to make desperate attempts to repair their vehicles and keep moving.  The vehicle that we were in was a Land Rover – strong and built to manage the harsh jungle environment.  With me was the driver, Raymond, our resident doctor from the Philippines, Bet Bet and two national staff members Buster, the IT manager, and Caroline, an administrative coordinator.  The Land Rover barrelled through the pot holes in the road as the passengers were tossed around like a terrible ocean storm.   We passed many banana, rice and rubber plantations.  The rest of the countryside was more endless jungle.

We stopped once for lunch where I managed to eat a local meal – cow meat soup (‘beef’ not being a term used here).  This is my first experience with this dish and, as I would learn later on, this one was actually quite good unlike  future soups I would have where the meat would be gristly and difficult to chew.  The standard fare is four pieces of meat, generally two made mostly of bone, a meat sauce that is heavy on the palm oil and a large serving of rice.  At the end, you basically eat the sauce-soaked rice and do your best to take in whatever meat is served.  There are usually only two dishes served at any restaurant and you can only get food when the sign on the door says “food is ready”.  If not, food is not ready.  Meat is not refrigerated but salted if you are lucky.  A gruelling 6 hours to lunch lead to another gruelling six hours until we reached the hotel.  Night was falling and the security risk goes up.  It was possible that we could have been carjacked but this time had no trouble. 

Throughout the ride, we often got stopped by roadblocks.  Some of them were official but these blocks were only to check on commercial trucks to see if any contraband was moving though the county and possibly to get a bribe to pass.  These roadblocks varied in quality with some being actual dropdown gates to a series of badly broken orange pylons to just a string that is being held by a tree and loosened to allow the cars to drive over them.  As well, there are United Nations (UN) roadblocks for security reasons.  The UN is a strong presence here as well as other major international organizations.  This is a failed state – a country whose government cannot manage to keep order.

We passed two major places of interest.  The first was the Firestone Plantation where, I have heard, those that live there are living better than the rest of the population and, second, the Coca-cola factory.  With little other food production going on in the country, I suspect I will be drinking a lot of cola here as it is being produced locally.

The hotel we arrived at was considered a multi-star hotel but by how many stars I don’t know.  One night usually costs about $50 USD but we get a regular discount at $25 – more than the typical monthly salary for a Liberian.  The electricity was irregular at best as the sick and ancient generator struggled to provide any power.  The air conditioner turned off and the stifling humidity crept into the room again.  Without power, the water pumps cannot push water through the pipes and a bucket shower is the only means of removing the several layers of red dust that has glued to my skin.  As with all the places that I go to, the walls that surround the hotel are high and topped with razor wire.  The gate is guarded by many security staff.

As a side note, I have never become used to bucket showers.  Even in the hottest climates, I find the room temperature bucket water still too cold.  Of all the things I need to get used to, I think this is lowest on my list.

The night is dark without electricity and, exhausted, I headed to bed dreaming of a time when everything you needed was just down the street in a dollar store.

The next morning we headed to the hospital.  This is the sentinel site that documents our malaria cases.  I met Michael, the Country Director, for the first time since I arrived in Liberia and we begin to review the books.  These books are ledgers which summarize basic elements of the clinical notes for each department such as the maternity ward or out-patients.  The hospital is badly in need of streamlining.  There are many points of entry for a patient into the hospital which can cause potential confusion over where a patient should end up. In fact, there is little distinction between what is normally called Triage, the first place a patient goes to seek help, and the Emergency Room.  The team moves around the hospital, from out- to in-patients (separated by gender), and in-patient and out-patient pharmacy, through the maternity ward, across to the clinical notes registry (where the clinical notes are stored), laboratories and finally to the store rooms (one Ministry of Health run and the other managed by MERLIN) where drugs and other equipment are kept.  All these places are important sources of malaria data. 

In terms of malaria monitoring, you want to see how a few key indicators are changing over time.  First, you want to see how many people are being diagnosed with malaria.  Next, a sub-demographic of the most vulnerable groups, pregnant women and children under five, are diagnosed at the hospital.  There is also consumption data that needs to be considered – how much anti-malarial drugs are being used, which ones are being taken and how all of this is changing over time.  From what we can see, the way that they are managing their data, by using a tally sheet to count all the malaria cases, seems redundant.  My work in the future will be to optimize the flow of data and create easier and high quality data systems for the staff members, data entry clerks and data analysis.

We met nurses and doctors, medical directors and even, briefly, the chief medical officer.  We had a group meeting with all the staff to discuss how to improve operations but mostly to discuss how to incentivize their work while not increasing the burden of their workload.  For any Liberian institution to work, a pay-for-performance scheme needs to be in place but I will discuss the basics of human motivation in a later post as it relates to Liberian culture.  As with all meetings I have experienced (both in African and anywhere else), a small gift of food is enough to push people to attend which, in this case, was a tuna fish sandwich on white bread with a soft drink.  Though the staff didn’t seem terribly encouraged, the meeting went well and some small progress is being made here.

As a side note, I think everything here is done with song.  We started our meeting with a thank you from several people for taking part in the meeting and a chorus song of prayer to Jesus which was sung in wonderful harmony. 

All in all, with little steps, things will get better but it will take both sides working together to make this work.

Zwedru is a surprisingly nice city.  Still, like Monrovia, people still live in straw and thatch huts and some have zinc corrugated roofs.  The streets are well paved and there are signs that this town was once on the way up towards modernity with streetlamps over the main boulevard but now they are just wonky derelict relics of a very hopeful future. 

After a lengthy two days moving around Zwedru, we prepared ourselves to go.  This time, instead of the heading the long route, I got to fly…

Now, flying in a UN helicopter was never one of those things I put on my life list but the moment I heard that this was the way we were getting back to Monrovia, I instantly added it right behind dancing to ABBA in Sweden under a midnight sun.  After a long painful wait, since we were on the waiting list, we got on the flight.  After walking in with UN soldiers from Bangedesh, Pakistan and China along with politicians and NGO reps, we took off.  The entire flight was two hours and stopped at several locations.  The Ukrainian pilots were incomprehensible but I think they said to put on your seatbelt but no mention of where the emergency exists were.  No in flight meal either.  This is one of the coolest things I have ever done next to the Tibetan Sky Burial.  Life list item: fly in a UN helicopter – check!

Home sweet home and I am back in Monrovia to relax for the weekend.  There was a lot to absorb in my first trip to the field.  There will be more – many more.  Already, Liberia is nothing short of an adventure.

Monarchie und Alltag (1980) foi o primeiro álbum da banda alemã Fehlfarben, composta por: Peter Hein (vocalista), Thomas Schwebel (guitarra), Michael Kemner (baixo) e Frank Fenstermacher (saxofone).

Este álbum faz parte daquilo a que se chamou a “Neue Deutsche Welle”, movimento post punk, onde se incluíram muitas outras bandas: Abwärts, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft /DAF, Malária, Xmal Deutschland…

Revisitemos esta bela faixa: “Ein Jahr (Es Geht Voran)”:

Vi sitter här och försöker ladda hem artikeln från gårdagens Norran (lokaltidningen), som vi fått hitmejlad på PDF. För att se vad som riktigt har stått där.
Men det får nog dröja ett tag till för idag har datorn lite virus och internet är allmänt deprimerat, så det laddas ner i ett tempo (om det nu är rätt ord i detta sammanhang) av det slag att man försöker fylla en termos genom att ösa med tesked.

I övrigt har dagen varit en relativt vanlig arbetsdag utan större dramatik. En sjuk gatukille träffade vi på, som legat i två veckor och var tämligen uttorkad och “avslagen”. På kliniken fick han diagnosen malaria.

Sedan inledde vi helgen med att gå ut och äta middag med Gennet. Vi tog henne på ett ställe där de har jättegod injera. Och så smällde vi i oss varsin wott (rätt) vilket är väldigt mycket mat. Men väldigt gott. Gennet åt rått kött, delikatessen som alla utom vi tycker är just en delikatess. Just på det området håller vi hårt på våra svenska rötter och hävdar att “det är inte okej i vår kultur att äta rått kött”.

Imorgon blir det arbetsdag. En sväng på gatan för att fixa med dagens sjukling och sedan Lighthouse.

I got a great fundraising appeal from a wonderful nonprofit called Kids of Kadiogne (www.kidsofkadiogne.org). Aside from the usual request there was an insert titled “Why Our Work Is Important”. Go to the Brochures and Articles page to read it.

The page-long piece describes the life of a farmer in northern Senegal trying to feed everyone, send kids to school and purchase school supplies and prevent anyone from dying of Malaria. What’s excellent about the piece is that it provides a good story, one that draws readers in and helps us imagine being there and facing the challenges and opportunities of daily life. It’s not overly guilt-driven, and it highlights what’s good in the farmer’s life (close-knit community, children) but also the very real struggle for survival and what supporters can do to change things for the better.

This is key. I’m overloaded with sad stories and often feel helpless at the scope of the world’s woes. Nonprofits often reinforce that feeling of despair in an attempt to secure donations. This story helped me see the impact that a small donation can have on a whole family — mosquito nets save lives, school supplies transform the opportunities of a generation of kids.

Telling an effective story and showing your audience how their action, money or purchase will improve things is critical to getting and retaining supporters.

Lisboa, 17 Nov (Lusa) – As comunidades de 47 cidades da Amazónia brasileira vão beneficiar de um apoio do Fundo Global de 17 milhões de dólares (11,45 milhões de euros) para prevenir e combater a malária, nos próximos dois anos, anunciou a organização em comunicado.

No documento, o Fundo Global de Combate à Sida, Tuberculose e Malária esclarece que o auxílio se destina a um período de cinco anos e atingirá os 37 milhões de dólares (cerca de 25 milhões de euros). O objectivo é reduzir a metade, até 2014, o número de casos de malária na Amazónia brasileira, região que regista a esmagadora maioria de casos desta doença no Brasil.

O auxílio será utilizado no Projecto para a Prevenção e o Controlo de Malária na Amazónia Brasileira, lançado na segunda-feira em Manaus (capital do Estado de Amazonas), pelo ministro da Saúde do Brasil, José Gomes Temporão.

Natal Vaz/LUSA – 17.11.2009

Esta manhã fui ao Hospital do Carmelo fazer um exame ao sangue para ver se tinha ou não malária!

Lá fui eu, cedo, às 7.30h já estava à porta do Hospital. Fui atendido por uma médica Cubana e rapidamente fui encaminhado para o laboratório de análises.

Recolheram-me o sangue. “Venha falar com a Dra. a partir das 11h” – informou-me o técnico de laboratório.

Um pouco antes do meio-dia bati à porta do consultório. O resultado do exame estava em cima da mesa. “Alberto, usted no tiene nada! No tiene malária!” – disse-me a Dra. Júlia.

Afinal, a pequena revolução que vai aqui dentro do meu corpo não tem nada a ver com malária. Pode ser gripe… não se sabe!

WORD

paragon [par-uh-gon, -guhn] n. 1. a model or pattern of excellence or of a particular excellence 2. Printing. a 20-point type 3. an unusually large, round pearl ∞ v. 4. to compare; parallel 5. to be a match for; rival

BIRTHDAY

Asa Gray (1810), Dorothy Dix (1861), George Gallup (1901), Imogene Coca (1908), Hank Ballard (1927), Don Cherry (1936), Margaret Atwood (1939), Linda Evans (1942), Graham Parker (1950), Delroy Lindo (1952), Kevin Nealon (1953), Elizabeth Perkins (1960), Owen Wilson (1968), Duncan Sheik (1969), Mike Epps (1970), Chloë Sevigny (1974)

STANDPOINT

OK. What’s irking the shit out of me today is quite simple. People keep asking me, “Why do you write so angry?”

Yes. I write angry. Yes. I am occassionally an angry person. But that doesn’t mean much of anything except I’m one of those folks who’s easily bothered by the people I come into contact with everyday. And you may not be one of those folks. And that’s fine. But maybe you should be.

You see, my problem with people thinking I’m too angry is there aren’t enough of you out there who are remotely angry enough. Being angry or annoyed is not cool because everyone wants everyone to just be cool. But, the truth is, there aren’t enough of you out there acting remotely cool enough.

And, so, if I tend to get a bit animated or a little too passionate about the current state of most everything, you’ll have to forgive me. I’m just not down with everyone being so goddam down about stuff.

QUOTATION

What I’ve learned about teaching is to refer back to the root of that word, which is educo, which means “to pull from.” Education does not mean jamming information into somebody’s head. Rather, it’s that ancient idea that all knowledge is within us; to teach is to help somebody pull it out of themselves. → Alan Arkin

TUNE

Tonight, I’m headed down, with Jer and Ezgi, to World Cafe Live in Philadelphia to see Blind Pilot. I hope I hear “The Story I Heard.” I really can’t imagine a scenario where I wouldn’t.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ Suddenly, pharmaceutical companies have come to the conclusion it might be a good idea to get into the preventive medicine business, instead of the curbing and/or curing side of it. In the next five years, there may be vaccines available for such maladies as Alzheimer’s disease, AIDS, Malaria, grass allergies and even something called traveler’s diarrhea. With the soaring prices of prescriptions and the subsequent scramble to find other options like the internet and Canada, maybe someone at one of these companies said somethig like, “Hey, what if we switch gears and actually try to find a genuine way to help people? I mean, we’ve tried everything else, right? Let’s give it a shot.” Funny, how a completely fucked economical situation can bring out the best in people.

→ A group of Native Americans, who’d filed a suit against the Washington Redskins over the use of the name “Redskins,” had their case tossed out by the US Supreme Court yesterday for, from what I can tell, is a complete technicality. I’m no lawyer, though, so I could easily be wrong. However, what I’m completely unwrong about is that the NFL franchise should just give up the name. We’re headed toward the future here, people, let’s keep our eyes on the ball. (Plus, the Redskins are so bad I’m sure hardly anyone would notice if they became the Washington Suckasses.)

→ Jonathan Safran Foer, author of one of my favorite books of all-time, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, has a new non-fiction novel coming out titled Eating Animals. Check out his interview with the AV Club.

Pela primeira vez em sete meses recorri a um hospital para fazer um teste. Tenho andado meio cansado, com dores de cabeça, febre… e tudo isto é sinal de uma gravíssima doença em Moçambique, a malária.

Hoje fiz quatro testes rápidos e todos deram “inválidos”. É estranho, é verdade, quatro testes seguidos darem resultado inválido. Normalmente ou é positivo ou negativo!

Para tirar todas as dúvidas, amanha de manhã vou ao Hospital do Carmelo fazer um teste de microscópio mais completo.

A malária ou paludismo é uma doença infecciosa aguda ou crónica causada por protozoários parasitas do género Plasmadium, transmitidos pela picada do mosquito Anopheles.

A malária mata 3 milhões de pessoas por ano, uma taxa só comparável à da SIDA/AIDS, e afeta mais de 500 milhões de pessoas todos os anos. É a principal parasitose tropical e uma das mais frequentes causas de morte em crianças nesses países: (mata um milhão de crianças com menos de 5 anos a cada ano). Segundo a OMS, a malária mata uma criança africana a cada 30 segundos, e muitas crianças que sobrevivem a casos severos sofrem danos cerebrais graves e têm dificuldades de aprendizagem.

A designação paludismo surgiu no séc. XIX, formada a partir da forma latinizada de paul, palude, com o sufixo -ismo. Malária é termo de origem italiana que se internacionalizou e que surge em obras em português na mesma altura. Termo médico tradicional era sezonismo, de sezão, este atestado desde o séc. XIII.

FONTE: http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mal%C3%A1ria

25 de julio. Sentada en el Talula sin poder hacer nada. No para de llover. Lo raro es que en Port Moresby (capital de Papua Nueva Guinea), apenas llueve durante la estación seca. Ha venido con nosotros  y es que la llevamos enganchada como una cometa desde que salimos de Noumea.

Noumea.  Salida el 1 de mayo. Ese día dejamos definitivamente nuestra boya en la bahía de l’Orphelinat para irnos a otra que estaba a sólo 3 millas de distancia. Tuvimos buen viento y todo empezaba bien hasta que el motor se paró justo cuando bajábamos la mayor y decidíamos ir a coger esa boya.  Pequeño susto pero que sin más apuro que el de los vecinos de otras boyas que nos miraban con cara de: y que hacen esos llegando a vela hasta el fondeo? y del meñique del pie izquierdo de Joan Antoni, que se lo puso del revés. Luego fueron dos “cracks” hasta colocarlo en su lugar.

De la isla Mêtre, partimos hacia varios fondeos dentro de Nueva Caledonia. Entre ellos visitamos Ille de Pins y por último Lifou. De la primera recuerdo sus aguas cristalinas, sus rocas en medio de las bahías en forma de champiñones, sus carreteras planas  que nos permitió visitarla íntegramente con las bicicletas, de ese aire entre mediterráneo y tropical tan peculiar de esta isla, de sus pinos y de un pequeño bosque de un kilómetro de largo que parecía sacado de algún cuento de Andersen, de sus fondos marinos, concretamente en Gadji, donde una pared llena de coral de todas las formas y colores, caía en vertical a una profundidad de 15 a 20metros. Me quedé sin aliento.  Y de un tiburón curioso que nos estuvo siguiendo un buen rato hasta que decidió cambiar de rumbo y que también me quitó el aliento durante ese tiempo.

De allí saltamos a Lifou. Al llegar al fondeo, Daniel y Cristine (unos amigos de Noumea), nos  esperaban en la playa. Fue un reencuentro de lo más curioso y divertido. Esta vez  visitamos la isla en el coche de ellos. Desde los peñascos podías ver los fondos del mar pletóricos de toda clase de corales.

Fue un día excepcional. Llegó la noche y esta vez la despedida fue con los pies llenos de arena y empujando el auxiliar para regresar al Talula.

 Hasta ese momento todo fue bien pero al cabo de dos días, el tiempo decidió cambiar y tuvimos que buscar un nuevo fondeo para protegernos de los vientos del oeste que persistían en no dejarnos tranquilos. Fueron dos días de pura agonía. Nos cruzó un frente que nos hizo levantar ancla a las 4 de la madrugada ya que pasamos de estar bien protegidos, a tener toda la mar que se nos echaba encima.  Al mediodía, llegamos a un supuesto fondeo protegido de este viento. No hubo manera. Con el ancla a 20 metros de profundidad en medio de corales, arrecifes a otros 20 metros de nosotros donde el choque del mar contra ellos, hacía que casi casi, la espuma te salpicara a la cara, una ola pequeña y una mar de fondo que nos hizo cabalgar durante toda la noche sin poder pegar ojo y finalmente, una salida otra vez, a marchas forzadas, hacia otra isla situada al oeste. No se pudo. Una mar de gigantes y un viento en contra, hizo que diéramos media vuelta y que pusiéramos rumbo al siguiente país: Vanuatu. Y así con una velocidad de vértigo y planeando sobre las olas, dejamos Nueva Caledonia.

Nos separaban 250 millas de nuestra primera parada: Epi. El viento continuaba soplando del oeste  por lo que era casi imposible encontrar algún fondeo en el que pudiéramos estar tranquilos. Seguíamos sin poder apenas dormir hasta que llegamos a Malecula. Aquí todo cambió: vuelta a la normalidad (vientos del SE) y reencuentro con este maravillo país que personalmente, considero es lo mejor del Pacífico. Vanuatu fue paseos por las islas, intercambio de producto

 manufacturado por frutas y verduras, un mes apenas sin pasar por el banco, de buenas y sabias conversaciones, de gentes orgullosas de su identidad,

de un trato de igual a igual que te hacía todo muy fácil, de una visita a un volcán que le dejó a Joan Antoni sin tres uñas de los pies por no estar acostumbrado a caminar con botas en la isla más mágica de Vanuatu, de un fondeo en una pequeña bahía en la isla de Maewo , rodeado de un precioso pueblo

 y a la popa, una increíble cascada a la que accedías con el auxiliar y que cuando llevabas 5 minutos en ella, estabas rodeado de 10 personas viendo como lavabas

 o te duchabas claro está, con pantalones y camiseta por respeto a ellos y para evitar posibles picadas de mosquitos. Aquí ya estábamos en territorio de malaria. De la asistencia a un acto presidido por el primer ministro de Vanuatu que llegó en una pequeña lanchita y con su maleta ya que debía de pasar aquí la noche.

 De cómo el cocinero nos pedía salsas para acabar la cena que debía de ofrecer a tan ilustre personaje. Del saludo que nos ofreció el  primer ministro y de la ironía de la vida que nos hizo sentir un tanto incómodos ya que todavía no habíamos formalizado la entrada al país (Inmigración y Aduanas estaban en la siguiente isla). De la despedida de Maewo  y salto a Espíritu Santo donde hay una pequeña ciudad que parece el lejano oeste. De un señor con taparrabos y descalzo, comprando en un supermercado de la ciudad. En esta isla, hay tribus en la montaña que apenas han tenido contacto con el hombre blanco. Y de una comida en la isla de Pentecoste con el jefe de la tribu que nos hizo pasar un rato muy agradable y entender un poco más a esta sociedad que viven en plena adaptación con su medio, que son conscientes del cambio climático y que su longevidad es gracias al cultivo de sus propios productos sin ningún tipo de pesticidas ni fertilizantes.

Y así, con este buen sabor de boca, dejamos Vanuatu para visitar las islas Salomón. Aquí fueron 3 semanas donde al llegar a la capital Honiara, descubrimos que llevábamos una pieza del enrollador de génova roto. Tras hacer la entrada a este nuevo país, nos fuimos a un pequeño grupo de islas al norte de Guadalcanal, donde estuvimos unos días disfrutando de sus paisajes aunque no tanto de sus gentes.

Salomon es básicamente Marovo lagoon y Ghizo en nuestro recorrido. El primer lugar es una gran laguna en donde a través de unos canales de aguas no siempre profundas, entras a un nuevo mundo de pequeñas islas con sus poblados, de canoas llenas de artesanía que te invaden durante todo el día,  de aguas de mil matices, de paseos en el auxiliar por medio de canales llenos de coral,

de preguntar cada vez que llegábamos a un nuevo poblado si había cocodrilos o no y de keto keto, último poblado que estaba a 10 metros del Talula y en donde pasamos 3 días que acabó con nuestra paciencia y educación.

No sé qué es lo que les hace tan diferentes estas gentes del resto del Pacífico pero aquí el melanésico intenta sacar el máximo provecho de ti sin dar absolutamente nada a cambio. Desconozco sus códigos y evidentemente, en 22 días poco puedes hacer pero no entiendo a que es debido tanta codicia por parte de ellos cuando su clima hace que la naturaleza sea muy generosa y no necesiten grandes esfuerzos para conseguir alimentos.

Finalmente, después de 3 semanas estresantes ya que las cartas de navegación están llenas de errores, los fondeos profundos y llenos de coral y todas las noches encerrados en el Talula ya que estas islas están llenas de malaria, partimos con un supuesto buen parte hacia el archipiélago de las Louisiades (SE de PNG).

La travesía fue bastante dura. Vientos de 35 nudos sostenidos y una mar que barría el Talula a su antojo rebozándolo todo de sal y a un  Joan Antoni  desquiciado por no saber hacia dónde dirigir al Talula (oficios del capi y el  mío de aguantarlo).

 Fueron tres noches y tres días donde un sarao de isobaras, SCPZ, un alta y una baja, se divirtieron con nosotros.

Llegamos a una isla llamada Pana Kuba. Estábamos destrozados. Hacía un día y medio que no comíamos nada sólido. Esa noche dormimos como reyes.  El fondeo era una laguna entre tres islas. Delante teníamos una islita y toda una barra de arrecifes que conectaba con la otra isla, protegiéndonos de las olas pero permitiendo que entrara el viento.

Louisiades fueron 15 días más de islas llenas de encanto, de murallas de piedra haciendo de guardianes contra las inclemencias del tiempo, de mucha pesca con algún que otro resultado por mi parte, de navegaciones fantásticas con 3 nudos de corriente a favor en algunos tramos y de mucha tranquilidad.

Pero el viaje continúa (debemos de estar en Thailandia en diciembre y aún quedan muchas millas por delante) y después de dos días de navegación con puntas de 9 nudos de velocidad (nunca visto hasta ese día en el Talula), llegamos a Port Moresby aunque ese último día, amaneció torcido.

La noche anterior, una invasión de piqueros, intentaban ponerse en el Talula. Unos giraron el windex  y otro dejó la placa solar a rebozar de excrementos. Yo tonta de mí, cómo se pudo colocar en la placa pensé: mira éste, ya está colocado, ya no molestará. Y al día siguiente, al encender el motor, éste se paró. Otra vez el corazón en un puño y a sólo 13 millas de la entrada por una gran barrera de arrecifes. Hubo suerte y descubrimos rápidamente el problema. La angustia sólo duró media hora.

Y ya aquí en Port Moresby, estamos  reclutados en una  marina que es una burbuja de australianos, esperando que nos traigan un repuesto.

La marina es increíble y sus gentes aún más. El otro día,  un miembro del Royal Papua Yacht  Club que es cónsul honorífico de Austria, nos acompañó por todas partes ya que necesitábamos hacer unas cuantas gestiones. El hombre nos explicó que disparó y mató a un tipo que pretendía entrar en su casa (todavía no lo había conseguido) y dicho acto, no supuso preguntas “indiscretas” por parte de la policía. Joan Antoni y yo en un “cacho” mercedes con el “cónsul honorífico” en cuestión, no sabíamos que hacer o decir mientras él nos explicaba esta historia sin alterar por ello ni un milímetro el pulso de sus manos o el timbre de su voz.

La ciudad tiene 700.000 habitantes y el 96% está sin empleo. A todas partes debes de ir con taxi. Al menos es lo que te recomiendan hasta la saciedad las chicas de recepción.  Se imaginan la provocación que supone ser un blanquito turista con cara aturdida, gorrito para el sol y bermudas?. Es difícil entender pero hay que ver para creer lo que pasan éstas gentes.

Esperemos que la pieza llegue pronto de Australia y que Talula vuelva a la mar en dirección esta vez a Indonesia dejando finalmente el Pacífico para dar paso al Indico,

 Talulas