16 May 2014
Eye-opening
Yesterday I had my first experience at getting a real good glimpse of some of the conditions of the First Nations reserves, especially in these remote settings. Yesterday morning I embarked on a two-hour boat ride with my attending physician to do a clinic at one of the smaller, even more remote villages than where I am already stationed. They only have a nursing station there full-time, and he's the only visiting physician at the moment.
Their health centre there is impressive; it looks like it was built within the last decade and is still in rather good shape. My clinic had its interesting variation - MRSA impetigo, uncontrolled diabetes, an incision + drainage, etc.... but it was the home visits that made the most lasting impression on me.
Without going into too many details, I saw some of the worst conditions of poverty that I can remember in my life time. I'd like to think I've had my fair share of exposure to seeing people live in dismal conditions given my mother is from the Philippines, and ensuring I witness the realities of living conditions there from a young age, and the summer I spent in rural Tanzania a few years ago. But some of the conditions I saw yesterday... I couldn't remember the last time I saw some situations that hopeless. One particular household, I don't think I'll ever forget. Everything from the condition of this prominent non-mobile elder who we were treating, to the condition in which he and his family lived was not something you could make up. It was a confusing feeling too. They were not a conventional obvious lack of food, clothing or basic needs like you see in those World Vision ads. This household seemed to have these necessities; but its upkeep was non-existent. Clutter was scattered everywhere from old discarded electronics to food crumbs. There was food out, which had clearly been out for weeks given that it was covered in mold. Our patient only seemed to have his home-care nurse looking after him judging by the dry urine and flaking skin around him. Earlier that week, apparently a dog had to be removed from the property due to being severe malnourished. I spent that morning on a two-hour ride on a 17-foot boat in choppy waters after eating a gigantic egg and cheese sandwich, and it was after that home visit that I felt the most ill that day.
It's not a feeling of pity I took away from the home visits. While I did feel sorrow and sadness for these families, it was more than that. I felt embarrassed that these living situations occur regularly on these First Nations reserves within our country on which we pride ourselves on our strong social infrastructure, and that while we call ourselves a "first world nation", these pockets all over the country are clearly no better than developing nations.
I can't attach blame to these feelings though, or offer insight into what I've seen. My time here is also shedding even more light to me on the layers of complexity of the relationships between the government, First Nations people and other citizens of this country. Many fractures exist. In many ways I have seen the friendliness, openness and beauty of these First Nations villages and its people, but I have also learned more about the politics, tensions, dynamics and bureaucracy that exist at many levels. Some people dedicate their lives to these aforementioned areas.
There's still so much to learn.
Their health centre there is impressive; it looks like it was built within the last decade and is still in rather good shape. My clinic had its interesting variation - MRSA impetigo, uncontrolled diabetes, an incision + drainage, etc.... but it was the home visits that made the most lasting impression on me.
Without going into too many details, I saw some of the worst conditions of poverty that I can remember in my life time. I'd like to think I've had my fair share of exposure to seeing people live in dismal conditions given my mother is from the Philippines, and ensuring I witness the realities of living conditions there from a young age, and the summer I spent in rural Tanzania a few years ago. But some of the conditions I saw yesterday... I couldn't remember the last time I saw some situations that hopeless. One particular household, I don't think I'll ever forget. Everything from the condition of this prominent non-mobile elder who we were treating, to the condition in which he and his family lived was not something you could make up. It was a confusing feeling too. They were not a conventional obvious lack of food, clothing or basic needs like you see in those World Vision ads. This household seemed to have these necessities; but its upkeep was non-existent. Clutter was scattered everywhere from old discarded electronics to food crumbs. There was food out, which had clearly been out for weeks given that it was covered in mold. Our patient only seemed to have his home-care nurse looking after him judging by the dry urine and flaking skin around him. Earlier that week, apparently a dog had to be removed from the property due to being severe malnourished. I spent that morning on a two-hour ride on a 17-foot boat in choppy waters after eating a gigantic egg and cheese sandwich, and it was after that home visit that I felt the most ill that day.
It's not a feeling of pity I took away from the home visits. While I did feel sorrow and sadness for these families, it was more than that. I felt embarrassed that these living situations occur regularly on these First Nations reserves within our country on which we pride ourselves on our strong social infrastructure, and that while we call ourselves a "first world nation", these pockets all over the country are clearly no better than developing nations.
I can't attach blame to these feelings though, or offer insight into what I've seen. My time here is also shedding even more light to me on the layers of complexity of the relationships between the government, First Nations people and other citizens of this country. Many fractures exist. In many ways I have seen the friendliness, openness and beauty of these First Nations villages and its people, but I have also learned more about the politics, tensions, dynamics and bureaucracy that exist at many levels. Some people dedicate their lives to these aforementioned areas.
There's still so much to learn.
12 May 2014
Remote BC
Just finishing up my first week in a super rural remote First Nations village, Bella Bella, along the pacific coast of British Columbia. It's on a small island that actually faces east towards the mainland of BC but between the two land masses is a pristine ocean channel through which fishing boats, whales, kayaks and the occasional ship traverse.
The town's most prominent guests are its ravens, crows and bald eagles. On any given day, I can count a handful of any of the above either soaring high in the air, perched on a tall post or tall tree branch or flying low above the rooftops. I've never seen this many bald eagles in my life. On Sunday, when I think some fishing boats came in, I saw at least four bald eagles circling above. They're basically the pigeons of this town. Haha.
A pleasant custom I learned on arrival is you wave or greet anyone with whom you cross on the road. It doesn't matter if you're driving a vehicle or going a walk, a friendly wave is the norm, regardless of familiarity. It adds an extra element of openness and courtesy. Anonymity is not likely around here.
The band store is where people get any sort of groceries. It's not cheap to import anything so while I was looking to maybe have a half pint of blueberries today, I'm also not keen on paying $6 for it. It hurts paying $6 for a 1 L bottle of milk too. Unfortunately, the cheapest things in the store are canned or preserved meals, candies, sodas and junk food. Good luck making an affordable salad or snacking on fresh fruits for very long. Trying to bake an apple crisp would probably set somebody back at least $20 on the apples alone.
The people here are pleasant and actively interested in who you are, which makes the transition easier. They want to know your name and where you're from. It's been a week and I've stuffed myself full from two gracious dinner invitations.
I've spent an afternoon kayaking on the calm waters, watching the soaring birds of prey look like circling specs over certain areas of forests. You gotta wonder what kind of prey they're stalking. I'd love to catch one of them in the act of swooping down to catch a mouse or fish.
On a run, looking west of the town are rolling hills of coniferous trees as far as I could see. Of course, the rolling hills meant my pace was getting destroyed on that run, haha.
I hope to check out some hiking trails this week if the weather clears up, and of course more kayaking. What I would give to see a whale while I'm on the water...
The town's most prominent guests are its ravens, crows and bald eagles. On any given day, I can count a handful of any of the above either soaring high in the air, perched on a tall post or tall tree branch or flying low above the rooftops. I've never seen this many bald eagles in my life. On Sunday, when I think some fishing boats came in, I saw at least four bald eagles circling above. They're basically the pigeons of this town. Haha.
A pleasant custom I learned on arrival is you wave or greet anyone with whom you cross on the road. It doesn't matter if you're driving a vehicle or going a walk, a friendly wave is the norm, regardless of familiarity. It adds an extra element of openness and courtesy. Anonymity is not likely around here.
The band store is where people get any sort of groceries. It's not cheap to import anything so while I was looking to maybe have a half pint of blueberries today, I'm also not keen on paying $6 for it. It hurts paying $6 for a 1 L bottle of milk too. Unfortunately, the cheapest things in the store are canned or preserved meals, candies, sodas and junk food. Good luck making an affordable salad or snacking on fresh fruits for very long. Trying to bake an apple crisp would probably set somebody back at least $20 on the apples alone.
The people here are pleasant and actively interested in who you are, which makes the transition easier. They want to know your name and where you're from. It's been a week and I've stuffed myself full from two gracious dinner invitations.
I've spent an afternoon kayaking on the calm waters, watching the soaring birds of prey look like circling specs over certain areas of forests. You gotta wonder what kind of prey they're stalking. I'd love to catch one of them in the act of swooping down to catch a mouse or fish.
On a run, looking west of the town are rolling hills of coniferous trees as far as I could see. Of course, the rolling hills meant my pace was getting destroyed on that run, haha.
I hope to check out some hiking trails this week if the weather clears up, and of course more kayaking. What I would give to see a whale while I'm on the water...
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