Just in case you missed it, Michael Jackson has died. I was told this by a professor at ULA on the day that it happened, but I would have figured it out soon enough even with my limited comprehension of Venezuelan news programs.
What is the response of the Venezuelan people to this? Well, the news here has focused largely on Honduras, Iran, H1N1, and lately China. But Michael Jackson is being played nonstop in restaurants and on radios and in cyber cafés like this one, and as an American the topic is considered an appropriate conversation starter for me. For example
me: Excuse me, ma'am, look. There are larvae in this flower pot.
señora: Ah, you're North American. What is your favorite Michael Jackson song?
But even scientists succumb to the gossip. I was having coffee after work today with my professor and Karen from UCV, and one of his videos was playing. We started to talk about the crazy press storm, and then I admitted that this nonstop montage of songs was the background sound of my childhood years and that I didn't mind it too much. Then we speculated on his cause of death and debated his crazy life and compared him to Madonna...and then realized that we were caught in it, too.
This round might go to the mosquitos for remaining above it all, except for the fact that I'm sure they'd dance to Billy Jean if they were sentient.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
planning in El Vigía
Seven weeks down now, three to go. In fact, I should be arriving in the DC airport at just about this time in exactly three weeks. I'm pretty flagrantly counting down now, especially since Ryan will be back in the US around this time tomorrow night.
This is not to say that I haven't been having a great time here! I have had the exceptional luck to work with the wonderful Malariología group, who have dedicated much time and energy to getting this project off the ground and who have furthermore befriended me. I hope that my work will produce results that are interesting and useful to them, and I hope that they like the Yale t-shirts that I'm going to give them. They've given me a Combata Dengue shirt which is super awesome and has an upside-down (ie dead) Aedes mosquito on it, tell-tale white striped feet flailing in the air. I'll try to get a picture wearing it.
My professor from Yale arrived here on Friday morning. She's getting a first-hand view of my field work and methods, and over the weekend we met with a professor from ULA and with the jefe and Dr. Jose Carlos at Malariología. The jefe's 15-year daughter was there too, and laughed uproariously at just about every question I asked in Spanish (I'm actually quite a big hit with teenagers. At the posada in Mérida, the daughter of the dueños were super impressed that I had visited both Chicago and San Francisco, and a high school American kid tried to pick me up in the ice cream shop.) Anyway, my professor is pretty happy with my work so far, and we're discussing dropping my last city and working a bit more thoroughly on determining the upper limit of mosquito larval presence. Sorry Santana fans, that means we skip Tovar.
Our current city is El Vigía, which is about an hour and a world away from Mérida. It's HOT here and humid too, and not as historic or well-planned of a city. It feels a bit like the auto retail strips in Florida between where my grandpa lived in Fort Pierce and where he lives now in Port St. Lucie, except with small smoky restaurants stuck in between the larger commercial properties. I pick up criaderos (breeding sites, which are some kind of container with water) that are way to hot to support life. I can already tell that the larval density is higher here, which is great in terms of my project but difficult in terms of control. This hits on a guilty point for many public health researchers: we get excited about interesting data and complicated problems, but their existance means a great deal of trouble for lots of people. In this case, my conscience is eased a bit by the fact that we use larvicide to kill all the larvae that we find. It's quite satisfying and I recommend treating all of your temporary water containers.
I've been surprised by the lack of resources at the office here in El Vigía. I've become accustomed to thinking of Venezuela as a pretty developed country, but the satellite Malariología office has one computer with no internet and no maps of their own city anywhere in sight. There are no training programs or conferences and there are constant transportation problems. It makes me extremely grateful for the CDC and for all of the state health departments in the US. Happy Indepence Day, my American friends.
This is not to say that I haven't been having a great time here! I have had the exceptional luck to work with the wonderful Malariología group, who have dedicated much time and energy to getting this project off the ground and who have furthermore befriended me. I hope that my work will produce results that are interesting and useful to them, and I hope that they like the Yale t-shirts that I'm going to give them. They've given me a Combata Dengue shirt which is super awesome and has an upside-down (ie dead) Aedes mosquito on it, tell-tale white striped feet flailing in the air. I'll try to get a picture wearing it.
My professor from Yale arrived here on Friday morning. She's getting a first-hand view of my field work and methods, and over the weekend we met with a professor from ULA and with the jefe and Dr. Jose Carlos at Malariología. The jefe's 15-year daughter was there too, and laughed uproariously at just about every question I asked in Spanish (I'm actually quite a big hit with teenagers. At the posada in Mérida, the daughter of the dueños were super impressed that I had visited both Chicago and San Francisco, and a high school American kid tried to pick me up in the ice cream shop.) Anyway, my professor is pretty happy with my work so far, and we're discussing dropping my last city and working a bit more thoroughly on determining the upper limit of mosquito larval presence. Sorry Santana fans, that means we skip Tovar.
Our current city is El Vigía, which is about an hour and a world away from Mérida. It's HOT here and humid too, and not as historic or well-planned of a city. It feels a bit like the auto retail strips in Florida between where my grandpa lived in Fort Pierce and where he lives now in Port St. Lucie, except with small smoky restaurants stuck in between the larger commercial properties. I pick up criaderos (breeding sites, which are some kind of container with water) that are way to hot to support life. I can already tell that the larval density is higher here, which is great in terms of my project but difficult in terms of control. This hits on a guilty point for many public health researchers: we get excited about interesting data and complicated problems, but their existance means a great deal of trouble for lots of people. In this case, my conscience is eased a bit by the fact that we use larvicide to kill all the larvae that we find. It's quite satisfying and I recommend treating all of your temporary water containers.
I've been surprised by the lack of resources at the office here in El Vigía. I've become accustomed to thinking of Venezuela as a pretty developed country, but the satellite Malariología office has one computer with no internet and no maps of their own city anywhere in sight. There are no training programs or conferences and there are constant transportation problems. It makes me extremely grateful for the CDC and for all of the state health departments in the US. Happy Indepence Day, my American friends.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Six Weeks down
Hello! I'm sorry that I've been missing in action for the past two weeks. I'm here to assure you that I am alive and well. Tomorrow, I will have been in Venezuela for six weeks and I have four more to go!Jenn Simpson, a third-year grad student from Yale in my program, is here to help me with my preliminary analysis and to make sure that I'm not missing any important components of my field work. It's been wonderful to have a friend here. Last Tuesday was my birthday. At first I was a bit ambivalent about spending it so far away from my family and friends, but it turned out to be a lot of fun! Jenn, Nelson, and Alejandra (the latter two from UCV) cooked up a barbeque and we had ice cream cake and wine with it. They all sang birthday songs throughout the day for me (even at work). Here I am applauding their efforts.
On Thurdsay night, Sarita came in to Mérida to visit Jenn and me. We spent Friday walking around the city and eating vegetables (not a favorite here). On Saturday, we took a bus up into the mountains to go hiking around Lake Mucubají, around 3000 m.
We had information from the mucuposada hiking network that told us we could reach the entrance to the park from Apartaderos, so we took the bus there and were told that we were 15 minutes away from the park. That didn't seem too long, so we started walking along the curvy mountain highway. At about 45 minutes, we realized that our informant meant 15 minutes driving. We flagged a truck down and he gave us a ride the rest of way, stopping first to hitch a stalled car behind him as well. The lake was absolutely beautiful though, as was the rest of the park.
We had information from the mucuposada hiking network that told us we could reach the entrance to the park from Apartaderos, so we took the bus there and were told that we were 15 minutes away from the park. That didn't seem too long, so we started walking along the curvy mountain highway. At about 45 minutes, we realized that our informant meant 15 minutes driving. We flagged a truck down and he gave us a ride the rest of way, stopping first to hitch a stalled car behind him as well. The lake was absolutely beautiful though, as was the rest of the park. After hiking, we went out for pizza and drinks at a café in the center of town. Since our sever was being a bit weirdly exclusive in his attentions, we decided to leave and check out Café Calypso, which is listed in Lonely Planet as having the best mojitos in town. Although my sample size is limited, I will agree that they were truly excellent. We were at first happy just to sit down, but the combined effect of the mojitos and the pounding techno music had us dancing soon enough. Astute readers will note that we were still wearing our hiking gear, including the boots. Graceful we are always.
As a wrap-up to this post, I am still trying to devise a way to keep score in the Meagan vs. Mosquito competition. Number of breeding grounds eliminated for me? Number of houses missed for them? Site-by-site or city-by-city or house-by-house? It's hard to say, and I'm willing to take suggestions. But I have decided to keep a parallel count, which is Meagan vs. Infectious Diseases, personal. This will be on a weekly basis. So far, the count is Diseases = 2, Meagan = 4. Booyah.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
H1N1 and other strange things
I don't have much time, but in short, the past three days have been a little crazy. But good. I was asked to help out with prevention for H1N1 (confirmed in El Vigía on Sunday), which is sort of hilarious and intimidating at the same time since I sort of resolutely ignored most of the flu stuff that was going on around me this year. But I'm doing my best to sort through the information out there, to contact people who know more than me, and to give them what I can.
I've done five sites in Mérida in the past three days. On Monday, we started off with a government educational facility where a man insisted on pronouncing "Yale" in the "Spanish" way and continued through a construction site unexpectedly teeming with larvae and on to an apartment where we were denied access since we might kidnap the residents (I know that I look pretty intimidating). Our site yesterday was the teleférico station, which is the longest cable car system in the world but unfortunately closed. In the afternoon, we decided to map out all of the rest of our sites at once, but the office lost electricity and we didn't have a random number table. So I wrote the digits out on ten pieces of paper and had my team pick the numbers, which attracted quite a bit of attention since we were in the atrium in order to use the sunlight. Today, we began with a farm where we found ginormous unidentifiable mosquito larvae, which we brought back to ULA to grow up and identify as adults. Then we went cavorting through the mountains to two other sites, at one point discussing the project with the owner of a trout farm. I have no idea what is going to happen tomorrow.
But here's a picture of Tuesday's team: Ivan (UCV), me, Sergio, and Henry (both Malariología). We're at the teleférico station. Beautiful workplace, no?
I've done five sites in Mérida in the past three days. On Monday, we started off with a government educational facility where a man insisted on pronouncing "Yale" in the "Spanish" way and continued through a construction site unexpectedly teeming with larvae and on to an apartment where we were denied access since we might kidnap the residents (I know that I look pretty intimidating). Our site yesterday was the teleférico station, which is the longest cable car system in the world but unfortunately closed. In the afternoon, we decided to map out all of the rest of our sites at once, but the office lost electricity and we didn't have a random number table. So I wrote the digits out on ten pieces of paper and had my team pick the numbers, which attracted quite a bit of attention since we were in the atrium in order to use the sunlight. Today, we began with a farm where we found ginormous unidentifiable mosquito larvae, which we brought back to ULA to grow up and identify as adults. Then we went cavorting through the mountains to two other sites, at one point discussing the project with the owner of a trout farm. I have no idea what is going to happen tomorrow.
But here's a picture of Tuesday's team: Ivan (UCV), me, Sergio, and Henry (both Malariología). We're at the teleférico station. Beautiful workplace, no?
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Good people
I just received the nicest email from Javier Bastidas, the jefe at Malariología. Basically, he said that he thinks our work is very important, and that his office and their resources are at our disposal. He's contacted the people who will help us and told them to extend every hospitality. He's even giving us office space to use, which means that we don't have to keep hauling our maps around as luggage. He called me "Doctora Meagan" and used lots of exclamation points. I sort of thought that he wasn't impressed with me during the meeting, so this a wonderfully nice email to receive.
As an update on the project, we've decided to stratify our sample sites by parroquias, which are literally "parishes" (a level of government smaller than municipio, which is smaller than estado or state). We'll be sampling one randomly selected area within each parroquia. This helps us spread our sites more evenly across the cities, weighing for area and population. Also, we've decided on our cities. We're going to use Mérida, Ejido, El Vigía and Tovar. This keeps us in Mérida State, which means that our historical data will be more uniform. (Side note: Johann Santana -- pitcher for the Mets, former pitcher for the Minnesota Twins, and probably the only baseball player that I know anything about -- is from Tovar. Everyone here thinks that I have great taste in sports. Thank you, Eric.)
And finally, Jennifer Simpson is coming to visit and help out in two weeks. Yay Jenn! She's a student in Maria's lab who is two years ahead of me in the Ph.D program. I'm super excited about this. While she's here, Sarita is planning to visit from Caracas and we're going to do something outdoorsy and adventurous during a weekend. Yay for friends!
As an update on the project, we've decided to stratify our sample sites by parroquias, which are literally "parishes" (a level of government smaller than municipio, which is smaller than estado or state). We'll be sampling one randomly selected area within each parroquia. This helps us spread our sites more evenly across the cities, weighing for area and population. Also, we've decided on our cities. We're going to use Mérida, Ejido, El Vigía and Tovar. This keeps us in Mérida State, which means that our historical data will be more uniform. (Side note: Johann Santana -- pitcher for the Mets, former pitcher for the Minnesota Twins, and probably the only baseball player that I know anything about -- is from Tovar. Everyone here thinks that I have great taste in sports. Thank you, Eric.)
And finally, Jennifer Simpson is coming to visit and help out in two weeks. Yay Jenn! She's a student in Maria's lab who is two years ahead of me in the Ph.D program. I'm super excited about this. While she's here, Sarita is planning to visit from Caracas and we're going to do something outdoorsy and adventurous during a weekend. Yay for friends!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
830 Flavors
Last night, I tried to buy a phone but the phone company's computers were down. So instead, we went out for ice cream. We went to this heladeria that's in the Guiness Book of World Records for having the most flavors of ice cream, 830 flavors to be exact. In truth, there are only about 100 out at a time, but it was pretty spectacular. The owner is a Portuguese man who is super sweet (appropriate for an ice cream shop, no? Forgive me, I can't make puns in Spanish yet so I'm feeling deprived). When he found out that this was my first time in Venezuela, he walked along the counter with me and gave me tastes of some of the more unusual flavors, including:
-corn
-caraota (black beans)
-amor eternal (a cocktail)
-regional (a beer)
and several fruits whose names I unfortunately can't remember. There was also an amazingly spicy chili pepper flavor from which we all took very very small tastes. As we all stood there trying to quench the burn with our ice cream cones, he laughed and gave us a ginger flavor that made it disappear immediately. He then gave me a signed flavor list and I took a picture with him and his Guinness books. JC (the prof from UCV) has it and he's on his way back to Caracas, but I'll post it when I get it.
Yesterday morning, we had a meeting with the chief of the Malariology Division in Mérida state. He's in charge of entomological studies. He was very interested in the project, and now we have about 7 years' worth of reactive entomological surveillance information as well as the use of the division's truck and one person to survey with us. In exchange, I may have to appear on TV or radio with him as a publicity thing for dengue control. Given my Spanish grammar, I'm sort of skeptical about whether this last part is a wise move for them. But I'll let you all know if I become a big star in the entomology world.
-corn
-caraota (black beans)
-amor eternal (a cocktail)
-regional (a beer)
and several fruits whose names I unfortunately can't remember. There was also an amazingly spicy chili pepper flavor from which we all took very very small tastes. As we all stood there trying to quench the burn with our ice cream cones, he laughed and gave us a ginger flavor that made it disappear immediately. He then gave me a signed flavor list and I took a picture with him and his Guinness books. JC (the prof from UCV) has it and he's on his way back to Caracas, but I'll post it when I get it.
Yesterday morning, we had a meeting with the chief of the Malariology Division in Mérida state. He's in charge of entomological studies. He was very interested in the project, and now we have about 7 years' worth of reactive entomological surveillance information as well as the use of the division's truck and one person to survey with us. In exchange, I may have to appear on TV or radio with him as a publicity thing for dengue control. Given my Spanish grammar, I'm sort of skeptical about whether this last part is a wise move for them. But I'll let you all know if I become a big star in the entomology world.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
No Hay Luz
Today I switched cabañas. Previously, Adriana and I were staying in Cabañas Ana Cristina. We had a small apartment with two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom that was way way high up in Santa Rosa. The pictures are the view from our balcony (the one with me is a bit blurry, since we were trying to get lots of mountains in the pictures while simultaneously providing proof that I am actually alive). However, Adriana went back to Caracas today and is being replaced by Juan Carlos (the prof), Nelson (the lab tech), and Ivan (the nice guy who invited Sarah and I to the beach). They should be arriving any moment now. I hope so, anyway. And later I'll post pictures of the new place!There have been a series of power outages here in the past few days. Last night, we had an outage for about two hours, and there was another for two hours this afternoon. I found out that the afternoon outage was actually a planned rationing step. It was a bit frustrating, since most of the things that I needed to get done today involved electricity -- light for drawing my map sites, a computer to apply for image acquisition, electricity for laundry. There is a Spanish post-doc here who sat on the bench outside the lab and commiserated with me, and then we were joined by a very nice prof in entomology who starting raving about the Ithaca music scene. He knows the guys in Donna the Buffalo (whose CD Marne gave me) and loves the Trumansburg music festival. He visited Yale in the late 90's and he thinks that New Haven is pretty, if a bit rough. I raised my eyebrows and asked "and Caracas?" and he conceded the point.
When I was packing for Venezuela, Marylee (Ryan's mom) insisted that I borrow her Swiss Army knife. These things are the ultimate in gadgetry, and it has turned out to be the single most useful item that I have ever brought with me on any trip. We've used this one to chop up food, to cut open packages, to open cans and bottles, and to put batteries in our devices. I've even used the magnifying glass to read the teeny print on one of the maps that I have. And yes, I'm pretty sure that using the magnifying glass on a Swiss Army knife to fix a real problem makes me way cool.
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