Courage on the Island of Widows
By Oswaldo Rivas
We got up before dawn to travel to the Island of Guanacastal, a community 130 km (80 miles) north of Managua, Nicaragua. My travel companions were silent, some lost in their thoughts and others sleeping, shivering due to the cold of the early morning hours.
As we passed Chichigalpa, a small and peaceful town near the San Cristobal volcano and where the famous Nicaraguan rum Flor de Cana is made, we started seeing the immense sugar cane plantations, the main component in the production of sugar and rum.
Shortly after leaving the main road we finally reached the island, now more commonly known as the Island of the Widows. More than 100 women of the 250 families living in the small village have lost their husbands to chronic renal failure, a disease that paralyzes kidney function by preventing the body from eliminating waste and excess fluid.
Operating on an implant scandal
WARNING: GRAPHIC IMAGES THAT CONTAIN NUDITY
By Eric Gaillard
The PIP breast implant scandal or how a French news story became a global health problem.
During a recent daily news briefing, I learned from a Paris-based editor that a plastic surgeon in Nice named Dr. Denis Boucq had decided to remove breast implants manufactured by a French company called Poly Implant Prothese (PIP) as a precaution.
After some research, I found the surgeon’s contact details. I thought to myself that with such a busy schedule, he would be unlikely to give me an immediate appointment. I took a chance and to my surprise his secretary told me “Come in 30 minutes. He will see you between two patients.”
Following two hours of waiting, the doctor saw me and asked for details on my project. I explained that because of his statements on the breast implant health issue, I would like to see the implants and make images of their removal. Again, to my surprise, the doctor availed himself and showed me the only box of PIP implants that he had and the defective implants that he had removed from a patient.
A photo blog without photos
By Desmond Boylan
Absolutely no choice. This photography blog post has no pictures. (Part 1)
I was recently driving towards Havana on a small, quiet country road in central Cuba. As I came onto a long stretch there was a truck moving slowly ahead of me in my lane, that suddenly stopped on the right side. I approached slowly knowing that in Cuba there are big potholes, very scarce and slow moving traffic, and cows, horses, hens and even children crossing the roads at any time, always without looking.
I put on the indicator to overtake the truck, but I noticed there was some unusual movement off to the right among some people beside some small country homes.
What happened next was an extremely intense situation.
I suddenly saw two women, one of whom was holding a newborn baby still attached to the other by the umbilical cord, and both were yelling for help. I will never forget the expression on their faces. They had tried to climb into the truck cabin but were unable to. They looked at me, screaming for help. Before I could stop the car completely, the three passengers in the back seat of my car had already jumped out and helped in the mother of the child, followed by the other woman holding the baby. The woman holding the baby turned out to be the other’s mother, so I now had three generations of a family in crisis in my backseat. Dangling between them was the umbilical cord with the baby turning purple. I am not a doctor but common sense told me that there was no time at all to lose. I put the car in first gear and before the doors were closed I accelerated down the road blowing the horn and flashing the headlights continuously. I reached 120 kilometers per hour in a few seconds, and kept it there.
I noticed cyclists, horse-drawn carts, and pedestrians on the country road, and then on the village street, all quickly jumped out of the way when they saw the car approaching. We reached the town of Marti after a mile and a half, and the woman holding the baby indicated to me the hospital building to the right.
Flies and politics
It took villagers in Guatemala’s El Aguacate 25 years of living with clouds of flies on the streets, in their homes, on their faces and on their food, before they decided to act. According to them, the source is the Rosanda 2 chicken farm that began to operate in the entrance to their village the same year the flies appeared. After just my first hour in the village, I too was repulsed by the sensation of the hundreds of flies that crashed into me.
Residents speak with rage and impotence of the flies, which they blame for sickness and even death. Even to a casual visitor it quickly becomes incomprehensible how economic interests supersede the health of a population, and how it’s easier to accept rising infant mortality rather than enforce basic sanitary rules on the farm. It’s especially puzzling now during election season when at each political rally and written on each street poster are promises of improvements for society.
It was a radio news story about a group of armed men standing guard at the entrance to the village that brought me to El Aguacate for the first time. My first photo was probably my favorite of all I had taken in the few weeks since moving to the country; a man who looked both surprised and ashamed wore an old clown’s mask and thick gloves, while patrolling with a rusty shotgun.
At first I couldn’t find a logical explanation for the scene, but when some women showed me bags filled with a black mass that turned out to be the flies they collected in their homes just that morning, I realized the seriousness of their problem living with these minute transmitters of disease.
Venezuela’s healthy city
One of the daily activities I enjoy most is arriving home in the evening after a long shift at the office, grabbing my iPod and going out running. It makes me feel good, keeps me active, and more important still, it banishes all of the stress of the day.
But I don’t like running in a park or some other quiet place, much less shutting myself away in a gym to jog on a machine, which bores me very quickly.
What I love to do is run through the city, through the streets, without worrying about the traffic, skipping around pedestrians on the sidewalks. I always thought I was a bit crazy because of that, and then a friend told me about a big group of people who don’t just run in the streets, but they do it in packs at night. So I decided to document them.
I’ve lived practically my whole life in Caracas, where I’ve witnessed many changes as this turbulent city grows – and one of the things that has struck me most is that there are more and more people in the streets every day doing some sort of exercise to stay in shape, without caring whether they can find the perfect spot to work out.
Capturing souls
From the very first photograph I took of the Kayapo tribe in the Brazilian Amazon, I knew it would be a difficult nine days. They were nine days during which doctors and nurses from the humanitarian Health Expeditions carried out more than one thousand medical exams and dozens of operations on a people known for their qualities as warriors, strong and suspicious of outsiders. Few of the Kayapos understood that they were receiving aid in their benefit, for which nobody would charge them.
The field hospital was in a school annexed to the village, and on my first stroll toward their houses a mother asked for a gift in exchange for the photo I had just taken of her son. As she spoke to me in her language, translated by a man who happened to be walking past. Later I learned that even the native women who do speak Portuguese will not use that foreign tongue if their husbands are not with them.
Absolutely decided not to negotiate or “buy” their permission to photograph, I just shrugged off her demand saying that I understood. I continued on my way, only to run into her again in a short time. During the first hours there I found it impossible to recognize anyone who I had already met earlier, and suddenly I found the same woman confronting me with a “bill” for each picture I took of her, her son or any of her other children. She was aggressive and I had no resource other than to show her my ignorance of the language, even though she repeated in Portuguese, “Money, must pay.”
The Kayapos hate to be photographed after having seen so many strangers arrive, take pictures of them and their children, and then disappear without leaving any photos behind. In these terms, their anger is understandable. Even in the hospital waiting room many of the Kayapos reacted aggressively to my presence, many pointing to their palms in search of compensation for my photos.
Catching gold fever
For the past 15 years Boonchu Tiengtan has been digging for gold in Panompa, a small village in Thailand’s Phichit province. His bare hands, a hammer and a shovel are his only tools.
Boonchy’s spouse sits in the shade of netting and patiently breaks rock into small stones with her little mallet. They seem to be a happy couple, laughing and joking when talking about what they do. We call it a hard job and primitive gold digging; they call it the only life they know.
With gold prices skyrocketing and investors finding safe haven in precious metal, Boonchu and his wife make $30 dollars a day. That is more than what an average rural Thai family makes in the agriculture industry or with livestock.
A small rock containing the gold will go to the mill where it is put under the pressure of water. A piece of carpet filters the waste leaving little stones with gold dust at the bottom of a plastic container.
Thais are wonderful people, mai bpen rai, is almost the country’s motto, it means “no matter;whatever; no problem.”
I guarantee you that every man, woman and child who works in this sort of mine suffers from mercury poisoning–even if they don’t know it yet.
Remember the “Mad Hatter?” He was mad because at one time hat leather was treated with mercury compounds, and eventually every hatter developed sever neurological disease.
C’mon Ministry of the Interior, in Thaliand, outlaw mercury (which will not work) AND add a local small amalgam (gold mixed with mercury) oven with a condenser, to recapture (most) of the mecury. It would not even be very expensive.
Every atom of mercury will return to earth to create deadly pollution.
In this together: A recipe for survival
In the weeks after the mass shooting in Arizona in early January, the question in newsrooms and kitchens alike was: How long would it take Gabrielle Giffords to recover and could she ever hope to return to work in the U.S. Congress?
Never mind that she had survived a gunshot to her head at point blank range, we still wanted to know: How long? Six to nine months? Eight to 10 weeks? Years?
These were the same questions asked during my own medical crisis some 20 years earlier. I remember waking up in an emergency room and hearing talk of seizures (seven) and a brain tumor. Subsequent MRI & CT scans would confirm a tennis ball-sized mass.
The how long questions and answers I heard in the days that followed were hard to swallow. Among them one stands out: Six months to a year and a half was the answer. The question was not about recovery time but how long I could expect to live. The consensus by several doctors was the tumor was malignant.
People involved in traumatic events like that day in Tucson often speak of how things unfold in slow motion. That day in the hospital was no different for me. As a neurologist broke the news, it became very quiet. Even as he continued to speak, quiet. I didn’t cry, I didn’t say a word.
I was 30 years old. It was August 1990.
Very insightful and tremendously courageous piece Stel. I am grateful to you for sharing your first-hand wisdom. I will never forget the concept of “Compensatory Strategy” that you learned from your caretakers and passed on to your colleagues as shared knowledge.
God Bless You Stel!
How did the Haiti earthquake affect you?
A year after the Haiti earthquake killed about 250,000 people and left more than a million homeless, a major multimedia documentary by Thomson Reuters Foundation takes viewers to the streets and tent cities of the shattered capital.
From the homeless schoolgirl who studies science by candlelight to the doctor who built a makeshift operating theatre in the ruins of a hospital, One Day in Port-au-Prince tells stories of resilience, ingenuity and courage.
We’d like to add the experience of Reuters readers. Perhaps you were directly involved, or maybe someone you know. Perhaps the catastrophe moved you to respond in a special way.
Whatever your experience, use the comments section below to share your story.
The catastrophe made me ponder whether affordable, simple means of advance warning of an impending quake could be found. Every second may save many lives.
Read more here:
http://brainmindinst.blogspot.com/ 2010/01/neuroanatomy-of-earthquake .html
AIDS: Wat Prabat Nampu temple, Thailand
Photographer Damir Sagolj presents a multimedia look at a hospice for those dying of AIDS at a Buddhist temple Wat Prabat Nampu in Lopburi, Thailand.













































I think one should be more careful when tackling a health problem such as Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD). I do not believe it’s appropriate to do so simply on the basis of what some of the affected say, without a minimum of research on the topic.
The deep respect we feel for the suffering of these people should not lead us to take for granted that the causes of the disease are linked to what they say, and therefore make veiled accusations against companies operating in the sector.
The productive practices of the sugar mills in the western part of Nicaragua are the same of the sugar industry around the world.
Furthermore, for example, Ingenio San Antonio (ISA), property of Nicaragua Sugar Estates Limited (NSEL), employs mechanical and biological pest control, practically eliminating all use of pesticides.
The agrochemicals that this company applies are properly registered in the competent ministries of the State of Nicaragua and they are also registered in the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA).
As a result of an agreement between Asochivida, the country’s largest association of CKD patients, and NSEL, Boston University is currently undertaking a comprehensive study on the causes of CKD in the West region of the country. In one of the conclusive parts of the report of August 2010, it is said: “Based on the investigation described in this report, we found no evidence to conclude that work practices and chemicals used by ISA are causing CRI in ISA workers. Establishing whether there is in fact an association will require the creation of new scientific knowledge.”
The Office of the Compliance Advisor/Ombudsman – CAO – stated in a press release on January 26, 2012, among other things: “ (…) Boston University’s work builds on that of other researchers and indicates that the unusual form of CKD observed in former NSEL workers is prevalent throughout the Pacific zone of Central America, goes beyond sugarcane workers impacting workers in other industries, and has also been identified in Asia. (…) Boston University’s work is unprecedented in Nicaragua considering its scope, rigor, and unrestricted access to the company’s operations. (…) Medical needs for the sick are profound, particularly in light of the lack of options for medication, dialysis, and kidney transplant. These needs are being addressed by proposed improvements to the community health center in Chichigalpa. NSEL and ASOCHIVIDA are also working together to provide food aid, develop a microcredit program, and provide income generation projects to support affected community members. Throughout the dialogue process, NSEL has provided about US$4 million in support to community members through ASOCHIVIDA. (…) “Given the scope and magnitude of this disease, long term solutions will likely require a regional framework for research into its cause, inevitably linked to public policy.” said Meg Taylor, CAO and Vice President, World Bank Group. “It is CAO’s hope that broader engagement will lead to a collaborative effort during 2012 to tackle chronic kidney disease in Central America.””
(http://www.cao-ombudsman.org/documents/ Mediastatement_Nicaraguachronickidneydis ease_012612.pdf)