Jonathan - Feb. 24 - An International Comparison

This entry won’t be filled entirely with the super cool stuff that we did this weekend. That stuff comes at the end, along with some amazing pictures, but you have to read my intellectual stuff first.

Our dean has asked us to compare the different healthcare systems we’ve experienced, and that’s what I’m going to do here(, and there will probably be a similar entry later from Libby... only a lot more insightful). It’s hard to isolate the healthcare system from the rest of society, so the comparison will be on a slightly broader scale.

So, Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Costa Rica all have their own unique needs. All tout universal healthcare, though none do it perfectly. Costa Rica seemed to do it the best, though when you decide to not have an army and to devote all your national defense budget to healthcare and education, that makes sense. Its biggest flaw, from what I saw, was their inability to reach out to illegal immigrants. Not unlike in the US, technically immigrants are allowed healthcare, but they don’t seek it because of fears of deportation. Costa Rica also has the benefit of a good infrastructure and the continual income that ecotourism brings.

Nicaragua has different issues. They don’t have many illegal immigrants, and they seem to have a decent supply of resources (which is surprising, considering that their biggest source of income is money sent to individual families by illegal immigrants in the US). Their biggest challenge is the rainy season. The clinic where we worked is isolated from basically the rest of the world for several months each year. Wanna have a baby in that situation? Or get in a car accident? Or even just get a bad case of diarrhea? A few engineers and hundreds of thousands (or perhaps millions) of dollars would fix that with the construction of tons of very stable bridges, but it just isn’t feasible. There are so many rivers that would need bridges built, and each one, we’re told, costs at least tens of thousands of dollars using local supplies and workers.

El Salvador is like a mini United States. And that’s the attitude of people here. It’s a little United States because that’s what they strive so hard for it to be, but they all want to live in the big United States. I think that El Salvador’s problems are most similar to the US’s in terms of health care. They don’t have impassable rivers during the rainy season (that I know of). They don’t have many illegal immigrants. Their problem is that they don’t have their own currency. That sounds weird, but let me explain.
They use the US dollar as their national currency. Their economy is in shambles. There is a huge discrepancy between the haves and the have-nots. There are 13 families in the country who own basically everything: malls, movie theaters, coffee plantations, hotels... everything. There was a civil war here in the 80’s that was quite gruesome, and that helped things a little, but not a ton. The pre-war government formed the political party Arena, which has maintained power ever since the war, so not much has changed. The guerrilla fighters from the war formed the political party FMLN, and they haven’t been able to obtain much power, though apparently they recently made some progress in getting senate seats, and their presidential candidate stands a chance in the March election.

An Arena demonstration on the street

The resulting traffic jam

So, the translation in terms of healthcare is the following: the haves get great private healthcare. The have-nots have to go to either social security type hospitals (if their job is good enough to pay into the system) which are apparently pretty decrepit, or they can go to the public hospitals and have to share a room with a dozen other people and maybe not get seen by a doctor for a day or two. For the females reading this, imagine giving birth in a room with 4 or 5 other women in labor, possibly without a curtain separating you. Pretty fancy, huh? Resources are scarce, and they’re definitely not distributed equally.

The other arm of this is that there is an excess of doctors who all want jobs in the private hospitals because they pay well, but since those are so hard to come by, they only go to people who are trained abroad. That means that doctors who train in El Salvador often leave to the US or Cuba or Costa Rica or wherever else so that they can get specialty training elsewhere. And once you leave El Salvador... can you imagine having the opportunity for a LEGAL job in the US and passing it up?

After contemplating all this, it makes the US sound pretty nice, huh? But we’ve run into some Australians on vacation while we’ve been here, and one of them put it pretty simply to me: “America! Such a developed nation, and yet it doesn’t provide healthcare to all its citizens?!? What are they thinking?”

What’s the number these days? The last I heard was 40 million US citizens without insurance, but that was before the recession. We don’t have a rainy season. We don’t have a shortage of supplies like these other countries do. What’s our excuse? Or the much better question, how do we start to change?
It reminds me of a house visit we did today in the community. A poor girl who is three years old, went her entire third year of life without gaining a single pound. That’s not supposed to happen. Parasites, malnutrition, and who knows what else have been plaguing this girl for a long time. The house visit was depressing: trash everywhere, no organization to the house, food left out uncovered, no clean dishes, kids with dirty hands, chickens all over the place (including in the house), huge barrels filled with water that looked like mosquito-larvae-olympics, visible parasites swimming in the sink, no running water today... Where do you start with that? What do you tell them to do first? The first twelve things you suggest to them probably will have little impact because there are the 38 other things remaining that need to be changed, so how do you get enough of them changed before they give up because it’s not making a difference?

Anyways, that’s my suave transition into the more lighthearted portion of the post: what we’ve been doing. This weekend, Libby and I had quite an adventure. We went to Tacuba (tacuba, ahuachapan, el Salvador if you’re google mapping it) for a “waterfall hike” on Saturday. We were warned ahead of time that it was only for the “strongest FIMRC volunteer,” and we definitely found out why.

Most of the trip, we were either on a nonexistant trail, or wading through a river, or perhaps on the edge of a huge cliff. It was on the edge of one of these cliffs that I had a little scare. Those leaves on the ground were a safe place to step, right? But when I put my foot there, it turns out they weren't really resting on anything and my foot just keep going. Luckily, I had already been clinging for dear life onto a root that was traversing the wall in front of me, so no harm was done. That was a pretty typical experience for the hike. We were told that no one has ever died on this hike, and I find that fact amazing. But it must be true, since the Lonely Planet travel book sings the praises of our guide.

A picture from a calmer moment in the hike

This picture hardly does the non-existent, super-steep trail justice

But what did this life-endangering trail lead to? A pretty view? A calm picnic lunch? Well, not exactly. You see, we were going to be jumping off of water falls. That's what this hike was all about. Apparently that's what our guide does every day. He takes tourists out (or goes by himself, if there's no one around) and hikes from waterfall to waterfall and jumps in from insanely high heights.

I like the picture above because Libby's face reflects just how crazy it seemed to jump as our guide (in the foreground) described. He would sit on the edge, throw a rock over the edge of the cliff into the water below, and say, "Aim for there." Some times he would add particularly comforting instructions like, "Tuck your legs in," and he would leave the translation (because it's shallow and otherwise you'll break your ankle) to us. Or he might add, "Don't jump too far and hit that log," or "It's really slippery so don't slip as you're jumping."

He knew what he was doing, though. The first jump was a fairly benign 5 or 8 meters or so, and it was nice and deep, not too many obstacles. So, he used it and the second jump to determine who was capable of making the more difficult jumps. The two girls in the group (Libby and another gringa) were not allowed to do the most challenging jump, and instead, they repelled down.

Suiting up to repell down a waterfall

That reminds me, though. One of the cool features of the hike is that for the 5 hikers, we had four guides. They carried all of the repelling equipment (harnesses, ropes, etc.), lunch (sandwiches for all), as well as the hikers' backpacks, so that we could occasionally have access to our stuff (cameras, bug spray, etc.) between jumps. It was very convenient. But since we didn't always have our stuff, we didn't get pictures of everything, but we got some good ones.

The jump pictured below was pretty challenging. The target was kind of narrow (don't hit the log by jumping too far, make sure you jump over the rocky cliff below). The rock from which I jumped sloped downward probably about 25 degrees. And I was the last one to go, so everyone's wet butts had sat on the rock, decreasing whatever traction I may have had to begin with.

So, I got lots of instructions and helpful hints (like the part of the rock furthest from the edge was more level, and notice that small patch of dry rock that you could step on)


And then I was off!

And wouldn't you know it? I survived!

And the only injury of the day was very very mild. The falls pictured above were the biggest jump. We jumped from about halfway down, the cliff on the right of the picture. It was the tallest jump... about 15 meters. When I landed, it almost felt like I had twisted my ankle. I think the force was just so strong as I hit the water that it stretched things out a little. After a few minutes, though, it felt better, and I was well enough for the hour-long straight uphill steep treacherous hike to the waiting pick-up truck to take us back to Italo (our FIMRC driver, who would take us back to San Salvador).

Libby and I both enjoyed the hike. We definitely had our moments of sheer terror, but it was good to overcome them, and we survived. Libby was probably the smarter of the two of us, since she skipped a few jumps she wasn't comfortable with. She still jumped a few pretty big ones, and she got to enjoy smaller jumps and natural water slides formed out of rocks. It was an awesome experience.

At the end, though, our shoes were absolutely soaked and filthy. So, we had a little cleaning to do.

And then our hotel room flooded (we think from a leaky toilet tank), so we had to switch rooms, and our shoes stayed extra wet for a few days. But having flooded housing made us feel at home... just like Saginaw.

I realize this post is way too long, but to briefly describe our Sunday adventures:

We went to the San Salvador Zoo, which actually was pretty good... especially for $.75

We went to the Military Museum (very pro-Arena), which featured a ginormous three-dimensional topographical map of El Salvador.

It also had more guns than I'd ever seen before, from many different eras

And lots of people around to answer questions... or enforce their funny rules (don't step past the yellow line, don't enter the green zone, don't wander behind the exhibit)... it was definitely still an active military site, not just a museum.

And back to work we went this week. Today, Alisha and Libby gave women PAP smears on this exam table (makes stirrups seem less unappealing?) while these local health workers taught breast exams and Neil and I advised the male and female elders in the community about their arthritis that is well controlled with their current medication, and the fact they get nervous sometimes, and yes, even about that fever they had two weeks ago that only lasted a day.

We tried going to Mayan ruins that are located near the clinic today, but we arrived at 3:30, and since they closed at 4:00, they obviously couldn't let us in. (how weird!) But we might try again later this week, so stay posted for more pictures, and also keep an eye out for Libby's wisdom regarding a four-country comparison.

Libby -Feb 20 (Happy Birthday Kevin!)- Update from El Salvador

Greetings from El Salvador! We are staying in a beautiful hotel in the nicest part of San Salvador. It is hard to convey just how amazingly rich and fancy this place is! We can walk to a supermarket about 4 blocks away, which is adjoined to an American-style mall and a BMW dealership. The restaurant at the end of our block is so fancy that a number of the people who frequent it have their own body guards that stand outside the restaurant as they dine. The supermarket has an international selection of food unlike any I've ever seen! All four of us have experienced culture shock, and I think we will have some kind of reverse reverse-culture shock when we all return to Saginaw, because we will be returning to a more widespread economic depression than is present here in the city.

The picture below is from the dining area where we are served breakfast every morning.

Let's see, we started our time here with a hike on Sunday up a volcano: Volcan Izalco. It is on the left part of the picture below . . . notice how steep it looks, even from a distance!


We started on the peak next to it. So, we went down the other hill, up the volcano, and then back to where we started again. It took us 30 minutes just to hike down the initial portion of the trail, because it was so long and steep.

This is a picture from that first part of the hike, which was all under a canopy of huge trees. Occasionally a cloud would come and engulf us. We were pretty high up!


It took us another few hours to summit the volcano, after stumbling over a combination of huge boulders and loose gravel. There were a bunch of police officers acting as guides, as well as non-police guides, but they didn't exactly help. Every once in a while they would talk to us, though.

Looking back, we could see the mountain we had just descended.
And the volcano top up ahead. Alisha's goal was just to make it through the hike alive, and she succeeded! :)



It was incredible because as we neared the top, we saw steam escaping from the side of the volcano, and the ground was actually hot when we touched it!

A view of the crater, and more steam vents!
We made it out alive!!!

So, the next few days we actually had trouble walking around much, because our legs were so sore, but it is so satisfying to have made it to the top!

Monday we started our actual work, in a rural community outside of San Salvador called Las Delicias. Compared to the people we worked with in Nicaragua, the people here have fairly good access to a clinic, hospital, and emergency transport when necessary. Even still, access to medical attention is not easy. On Thursday we had a 4 year old at the clinic who was wheezing and having trouble getting much air into her lungs. She needed a breathing treatment, and her mother needed to return to work, so I accompanied the doctor of the clinic on the journey 'up the street,' to the house with the nebulizer machine. After about 10 minutes of walking up the hill, we reached the mother's work and I was handed the sleeping, sick 4 year old child to carry the rest of the way up the mountain. It took us another 20 minutes ( it felt a lot longer!) to reach the top of the hill! I was exhausted, and my arms were shaking from exhaustion, but it helped me realize that even though this community is close to the city and the clinic is 'just down the hill,' that there is still very limited access to medical care in the community.

The FIMRC coordinator here, Meredith, works with a nurse in the community from the Ministry of Health (MINSA), on public health campaigns, vaccinations, home visits and a micro-health insurance program. As part of that work, we got to help weigh and measure local children, to report to the ministry of health (a task that must be completed monthly for every child under age 5). There are several different stages of malnutrition, and thankfully we only saw a handful of kids in the first stage, but it was still disheartening because we didn't have anything we could do for the families. One mother told us that all she feeds her daughter is beans and tortillas. She didn't think that fruits or vegetables would help the child put on any weight. We were able to talk to her a little about nutrition, but for other families, the problem is that they can't afford to feed all of their children.
One of our first days in the community, we were invited to learn how to make traditional corn tortillas in a local family's home. The woman in the picture below showed us how to carefully form the freshly made masa into flattened rounds. She also meticulously taught Alisha and I how to cut tomatoes and onions for salsa, without the use of a cutting board . . . the guys had to wait a long time for lunch, but it was delicious! Fresh made tortillas with cheese, homemade salsa and avocado!Wednesday after clinic we stopped at a local fruit market. We bought 10 mangos for a dollar, as well as a pineapple, watermelon, limes, green mangos, and avocadoes (for Jonathan) . . . it was heavenly! So- we are enjoying our time in El Salvador! And more adventures lie ahead... Tomorrow, Jonathan and I will be taking an exciting, high-flying hike that we're sure to have stories about. Sunday, we'll have a little fiesta at the hotel, and next week, we've got tons of work awaiting us in Las Delicias.

Jonathan - Feb 14 - Change of Scenery

This will be a brief post, but I wanted to let everyone know that we've arrived safely in San Salvador. We left Managua, Nicaragua bright and early (actually, it was definitely still dark when we left in the wee hours of the morning) and took a 12-hour bus ride up to El Salvador. It was pretty cool that our bus and the bus of our classmates who were making the opposite journey just happened to stop at the same bus stop at the Nicaragua-Honduras border at the same time, so we got to see them for a brief moment. They seemed to be doing quite well.

We've been here now for a grand total of about 3 hours, and we've already had tons of culture shock. We went from the middle of nowhere to a big city. From a hotel where we occasionally didn't have any water to one where we can take hot showers. From a place where there are tiny little stores in people's houses to one where there are huge supermarkets. There's even wireless internet at our hotel!

So, blog posts may be more timely. (Pictures probably will not be any more frequent, since the computer that we brought (one we're borrowing from MSU) doesn't have a functional USB drive, so we have to borrow Alisha's computer in order to post pics.)

We're planning a volcano hike tomorrow, since Ometepe's hiking didn't work out. And then we start back to work on Monday.

OH! One fun thing I wanted to mention. Among other celebrations for Neil's birthday yesterday, we went to this super fancy mall in Managua last night where they had a movie theater. We watched a movie (He's Just Not Into You, or something) in the VIP room. Very nice... lazy-boy style chairs that recline practically to flat. People who come to wait on you. Very nice... OK. Will post more some time when I have a full tummy.

Unexpected Internet Access = PICTURES!

Us with locals distributing a chemical to reduce mosquito population (and thereby decrease malaria and dengue fever): Neil in our favorite mode of transportation (hanging off back of pick up truck... meaning we wouldn't have to bike):

"Unloading" one of the smaller boats to Ometepe:

Relaxing at Surf Sanctuary:

Walking out of Surf Sanctuary:

Bus to ometepe

Demo of massive bleeding

Carriage ride in Granada:

Ferry to Ometepe:

Witch Doctor (or traditional healer, depending on your persuasion). We all have parasites, by the way:

Teaching how to stabilize neck fracture:

Playing hangman:

Beach 5 min from Surf Sanctuary:

Ometepe:

That's all for now. Next post some time after we hit El Salvador on Saturday night.

Feb 8 - Jonathan - Kickin' It Not So Clean

So, we just got back from a weekend excursion... our only weekend excursion in Nicaragua. We decided to go to Ometepe, an island with not one, but two volcanoes, poised to erupt at any moment. I highly suggest going to www.googlemaps.com, searching for “Ometepe, Nicaragua,” and zooming in as much as possible with the satellite view... pretty cool.

The island was beautiful. The volcanoes were impressive. The adventure was solid.

So, we took a 6am bus out of our little town Saturday morning. Early bus, should be fairly empty, right? Nope! Picture an old school bus, jammed with people, 2 or 3 to every seat, people squished into the aisle more than anyone thought humanly possible, plus a ton of people riding on the roof. That was our bus.

So, it was no wonder when it broke while trying to negotiate a corner in Tola, a small town not far from our tiny village. We got a partial refund, had to wait for another (thankfully, slightly less crowded - though we still had to stand) bus, which took us to Rivas. There, we thought we were going to take a bus to San Jorge, but we couldn’t find anyone honest enough to tell us where the bus stop was, because everyone we talked to had a taxi they wanted to chauffeur us in.

We finally caved in and paid the $4 to take a taxi to San Jorge, where we had to catch the ferry. There were lots of smaller boats, but they apparently are a lot less smooth of a ride, and considering that ferries hadn’t been running for a few days prior because of winds 30-40mph (think tropical storm), we thought it wise to take the big boat.

We had to wait awhile, but it provided an excellent opportunity to play Uno, people watch, and watch people on the smaller boats unloading bags (which consisted of hurling huge suitcases and backpacking packs over about a 5’ wide gap between the boat and the dock... no bags got wet while we watched, though.

Finally, we took the ferry, after about an hour or so of waiting. Once we got to the other side of the island, we ate lunch. The restaurant only had two fish left, so we got them, and a few other things. I still am not entirely used to the fact that the entire fish is cooked and served here. It looks cool, though.

We had planned to venture further inland, toward the more distant volcano for some hiking, but our journey had taken longer than expected, so we decided to try going about a third of the way - to Charco Verde, where there’s some lagoon with a chico grande or something living in it, who gets mad if you take his picture, but often offers to buy your soul for lots and lots of riches. And then your soul apparently goes into a cow on the island. Or so that’s the story they tell.

But this place turned out to be basically the middle of nowhere. We got off the bus and had to walk a long ways to find any other people. We found one of the three hotels listed in Lonely Planet, and it didn’t have enough rooms for us. So, we headed back to the city where the ferry dropped us off.

Fortunately, just when we got back to the road at Charco Verde, a bus came by and picked us up. We went back to Moyogalpa, and pretty quickly found a hotel there. We got rooms. We had heard ahead of time that the town didn’t have water (some broken pipe somewhere), but were told it would come back on around 6pm. But they had a pool, so at least we could kick it chlorine clean.

Only, when we got there, we found out that the new water return was forecasted at 8pm, and the pool was broken and therefore closed. Nicaragua. Ahhh...

We went to eat at a pizza place because all of us were a little sick of rice and beans and fish. The pizza was really good. It has been really easy for us to almost always stay under our budgeted $4 each for breakfast and lunch and $7 for dinner. We got three medium pizzas and drinks and were still way under our $21.

We went back to the hotel and had had enough adventure. There was still the possibility of hiking in the morning, so we went to bed. When we woke up and talked to a guide (Lonely Planet says gringos die hiking the volcanoes if they don’t get guides), it turned out the hike was going to be at least $20 per person (for taxi to the trailhead, plus his fee), so that was suddenly a lot less appealing.

We ate breakfast and considered seeing more of the island by bus, but very few buses run on Sundays, so that didn’t really work out. We had experienced a lot of adventure, though, and all of us were fine with the plan to just head back.

So we went to catch the ferry. None had left yet, but there was one in the dock. We asked people when it was going to leave, but no one seemed to know. Then Neil and I noticed that there were people working on its detached rudder. And there was a broken propeller on the dock next to it. Didn’t look good.

Another ferry came around 10:30am We got on, hoping it would leave soon. It didn’t. At 11:30, they told us the winds were too bad, and we could go ashore, because it wouldn’t be leaving until 2:30. Fortunately, Alisha pointed out it might leave early if we abandoned ship, so I asked the guy, and he acknowledged that if the winds died down, they would leave before 2:30.

We ended up leaving at noon. It was a fairly smooth ride - better than the way there. We got another taxi to Rivas (where our bus back home would be), and had a heck of a time finding people honest enough to tell us that a bus was, indeed, coming. We got to Rivas around 2pm, and the bus was apparently leaving at 4. We stopped at a supermarket and got some cucumber, tomatoes, tortillas, and cream cheese to make wraps. After walking all the way back to the bus stop, I realized I didn’t have my swiss army knife, which I was counting on to cut the veggies, so we went back to the store and bought a set of kitchen knives.

The bus had come while I was buying the knives, so my three companions had boarded and saved me a seat. We made our wraps sitting on the bus, waiting for it to leave (that’s right - I said sitting). The ride back was thankfully uneventful, and we made it safely to the Surf Sanctuary.

Slightly annoyingly, they didn’t have dinner for us, even though we had told them we would be back for it, so we had to go to a restaurant down the street infamous for its bad service. They almost got our order right, though, and it only took a little over an hour for our food, so all was well with the universe again. Especially with a fresh pineapple that we had bought in our room, waiting to be introduced to our new kitchen knives.

Also, just so everyone knows, this may be the last internet access until El Salvador (Feb 15-ish). Just so you know.

Feb 4 - Jonathan - Kickin' It Chlorine Clean

It feels like we’ve been here a long time, but it hasn’t been more than a few days... Already, I feel like we’ve been getting the true Nicaraguan experience. It’s been very different from Costa Rica, and that’s what I was hoping for.

Maybe it has to do, in part, because we’re in the middle of nowhere, too. The nearest “city” is about a half an hour by car. We don’t have cars, though. Our half-an-hour to hour-long journey every day is by bicycle. On dirt roads. Some of which are flooded over. None of which are smooth. One of which was blocked by a fallen tree this morning.

The clinic where FIMRC has set up shop is impressive. It’s a really nice facility, and rather than owning it, FIMRC partners with it. They provide us volunteers for public health initiatives, such as the first aid training that we’re doing. Speaking of which, our day-to-day life is basically the following: four hours of training locals first aid twice a week, two or three mornings of preparing said training sessions, three afternoons of Spanish class per week, and a few random half-days of other activities.

Sorry this is random, but I keep remembering other things I was going to include... Spanish class, for instance, has been good. We’ve had lots of practice talking. Viniette, as many of you know, is a wonderful card game. It has a gazillion rules, but it’s a lot of fun. In our first class, we spent a lot of it playing Viniette. Sounds cush, right? You try explaining the most complicated card game you’ve ever played before to a person in another language... another person who doesn’t really know how to play card games.

Another cool thing that we got to do was go out with local community health workers to distribute Abate. Abate is a chemical that they distribute in tea bag like “bolsitas” to put anywhere there’s standing water to prevent the reproduction of mosquitoes. It was cool to see locals interacting with locals, working hard to improve their communities. And it was cool seeing how they recognized all of the random houses on a street, and never got lost, despite no street signs and no addresses.

We’ve had to be pretty flexible with things here. Things change. People don’t show up. Food doesn’t get prepared/served on time. Or, most recently, we have to kick it chlorine-clean. Translation: no power, and thus, no water. So, we’re sitting in the dark right now. Luckily laptops have batteries... So, even though it’s too dark to read or play cards or anything else, I can type this entry, and save it to be posted the next time we go to clinic... Friday? That’s all for now. I’d better go jump in our pool (which has green water, by the way), so that I can truly kick it, Chlorine Clean.

Feb 1 - Jonathan - There’s a horse in our yard!

Yesterday, the journey began. We took the 3:30am shuttle from our hotel to the airport, exchanged bins of supplies with one of our classmates (because we had mistakenly given them the wrong one), and made it to the gate with plenty of time. We flew into Nicaragua with few complications. Like last year, at the airport, we were met by a hundred or so people pressing their noses up against a long glass window, looking into the baggage claim for their loved ones. This time though, we quickly found someone holding up a sign that said FIMRC, and we were off. (The journey didn’t go quite so smoothly for one of our classmates, who upon trying to check in, was told that his passport expired 5 1/2 months after his scheduled return. Who cares, right? Well, apparently the government. He wasn’t allowed to board the plane because he has to have at least 6 months wiggle room, apparently.) We drove from Managua (where the airport is) to Granada, arguably the oldest city in Central America, for the night with the FIMRC site coordinator, Greg. We explored the city for a bit and took a nice horse-drawn carriage ride. Got some decent food at a Thai restaurant and then went out for ice cream. I had a delicious Sundae Tropical which consisted of amazing orange and pineapple ice creams (that were almost sherbet-like) with some strawberry sauce and whipped cream. Mmmmm...

Neil at Lake Managua

Alisha, enjoying her and Libby's Granada hotel room

Our dusk carriage ride

Walking in the city

In Granada

Today began with breakfast. Alisha and Libby explored the city and came back to report the results of their scouting mission: apparently, conveniently, almost suspiciously, the ONLY restaurant open was called the Chocolate Café, and almost every item on the menu had some sort of chocolate with it. Hmm... I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.

Anyway, we went there, and surprisingly enough, Libby ordered fruit and granola (or as they called it, “Healthy Person”). I ordered the Chocolate Fever. We ended up trading, though, when one of the fruits included was banana (Libby’s favorite allergen).

The drive to our clinic site took a couple hours. It’s basically in the middle of nowhere. The clinic looks pretty nice. We just drove by, and haven’t seen inside yet. Our accommodations are nice. We’re at the Surf Sanctuary (www.surfsanctuary.com), which is owned by some American ex-pats. We have one big room for the four of us, and apparently the Surf Sanctuary people are providing two of our meals per day.

We arrived around lunch time, but they weren’t prepared to feed us, so we walked to the beach. A nice little stroll 5 minutes down the road, passing some wild horses on the way, and we were at a beautiful beach on the Pacific. Life’s tough.

We went to a restaurant at a resort on the beach (www.ranchosantana.com). Pretty good food. The highlight was probably fresh calala juice (passion fruit). So far, no guanabana, but I’m definitely still holding out hope. And we’re told that the mangoes are not quite ripe. Hopefully that changes before we leave.

Now, we’re back at the hotel (Surf Sanctuary), and as I went out to sit on the hammock chair on the porch to write this, I was greeted by not one, but five of our new closest horse friends. So far, they haven’t bothered me, and I haven’t bothered them. (One mean horse, just kicked one of the not-so-mean horses, though. I’m not sure how well they get along.)

We don’t have internet at the hotel, but apparently the resort on the beach does, so if I posted this, it means we’ve made it there successfully.

That’s all for now. We’re going to plan our first aid teaching strategy, since that’s apparently what will be taking up most of our time over the next four weeks.

(Addendum, Feb 4 - The Resort’s Internet is down, so we only have access to the web when we’re at the clinic two or three days a week.... and we’re supposed to be working during that time...)