Bridge of Life Up Close
The Value of a Banana
Every Monday through Saturday, 4,500 agriculture workers arrive at the Banasa Banana Plantation in Trifinio, Guatemala. These men and women wake up between two and three in the morning in order to reach the farm by five to start their shift. Most workers arrive by bus on a long, bumpy commute down windy dirt roads that lasts more than two hours. Others travel by bici (bicycle) or by foot, sweating and tired before they even start their day.
They arrive to the plantation before the sun has risen. In the darkness of the night, they find their way to their designated posts. There are dozens of different roles for a banana plantation worker. There are positions in the fields to support every stage of the harvest: planters, pickers, fumigators, and protectors (who cover the bananas from wind and sun damage). Once the bananas ripen, the haulers bring the fruit from the field to the processing plant. At the plant, there are people who wash, count, inspect, label, and pack the fruit. The job of the workers is monotonous, and I wonder how they endure their 10-plus hour shift. They move at rapid speeds, trying to complete as much work as possible driven by the fact that 10 percent of their wage is calculated by the hour while 90 percent is determined by productivity. They take their jobs seriously, being efficient yet cautious. They understand that they are easily replaceable. If a worker allows a damaged fruit to pass through their station three times, they will lose their job and their ability to put food on the family’s table.
Migrant workers at the Banasa Banana Plantation in Trifinio, Guatemala often commute two or more hours to start their 5 am shifts
The temperature at the farm is brutally hot and humid with temperatures that soar above 100 degrees in the afternoon. The blazing sun and hungry mosquitoes seem to go unnoticed by the locals. Asi es la vida (this is life).
The workers receive a short, 30-minute lunch break midday. No one asks to take any more time as lost time equals lost wages. They end their shift around five in the evening and begin their long commute home, usually not returning until after eight. They bathe with water from their shallow wells, eat and go to bed, trying to get at least six hours of sleep before they need to wake up and start their day all over again.
Sunday is their day of rest, but the workers admit there is little time to relax. Carlos, a 36-year-old fumigator, says, “Sunday, I still wake up at three in the morning. I look for firewood. If I don’t find firewood, my wife can’t cook, and my family won’t eat for the rest of the week.” Carlos gestures towards the container with tortillas that his wife packed for him for lunch.
Mariano has been working on the farm for over 16 years. Like so many of the other workers, he feels lucky to have the opportunity of a steady income. At 51 years old, he hopes he will continue working on the farm the rest of his life.
Fewer women are employed at the plant, but the ones that are work side-by-side the men doing the same job, working just as fast as their counterparts. Matilde is a 34-year-old mother with four children between the ages of 11 and 16. Her 11-year-old died last year from what she believes was heart complications. She feels very fortunate to hold the position of a banana packer, a role that earns more income than many of the other jobs at the plant. She leaves her home at three-thirty in the morning and does not return until almost 11 at night. Her commute lasts three hours, and she works an 11-hour shift. She relies on her oldest daughter to take care of her children while she works.
The hard work takes a toll on many of the workers. Fabian is 57 years old and has worked at the Banasa Farm for more than 10 years. He has never visited a health clinic and admits he knows very little about his health other than what he feels on any given day. He suffers from chronic back pain, but has never taken any medication for it. Fabian learned at the screening that he has stage four kidney disease.
A Bridge of Life volunteer screens a migrant worker for chronic kidney disease
Erwin is a 26-year-old banana picker. For the past four years, he has spent nine hours a day in the hot, blazing sun in the banana fields. Erwin shared that he suffers from chronic back pain, itchiness, swollen legs, and frequent urination throughout the night. He has never been to a hospital or clinic. Erwin’s father passed away at age 46 from end-stage renal disease. Erwin found out that he too has stage five kidney disease. With failing kidneys, treatment is urgently needed. Still, Erwin fights through his pain working in the fields to earn a living. He is the man of the house now that his father is deceased.
In partnership with CU Global Health this past February, Bridge of Life (BOL) traveled to Banasa Farm in Trifinio to screen almost 1,000 of the workers for chronic kidney disease as well as other non-communicable diseases. Our goal was to gain an understanding of the major health issues that affect the well-being of the banana plantation workers. This mission was the first of many steps to improve the health of the workers, children and families living in the surrounding impoverished communities. BOL’s long-term plan is to develop an annual health screening of all the workers in partnership with the local health clinic, to train community nurses to educate the workers on disease prevention strategies and to increase access to healthcare services for people like Fabian and Erwin.
Our team returned home from this life-changing mission in astonishment of the agriculture workers. We had never met a group of people that worked as determinedly in such harsh conditions day-in and day-out with absolutely no complaints. Our inspiration to continue on this journey comes from the steadfast commitment of these Guatemalan workers. They deserve more…and we can do more.
My Experience at The Painted Turtle, a Medical Camp for Kids
The Painted Turtle, one of the medical camps for kids that Bridge of Life works with.
Wow, what an amazing gift it was to volunteer at The Painted Turtle. To an outsider, this camp looks like a normal summer camp with swimming, fishing, canoeing, horseback riding, arts and crafts, wood shop, improv, and archery. But when you look closer, you see the nurses visiting kids at meal time with medications, the IV catheter lines that have to get special waterproof dressings so the kids can swim and get wet, and the nighttime ritual of IV poles, TPN bags, oxygen machines and nurse checks every 2 hours. That’s when you know there is something very different, and very special, about this camp.
What impressed me most was the way these children took total responsibility for their medical care. For instance, we had some candy in the cabin that they boys were sharing. One particular boy took some candy and then asked me if I knew what dessert would be that day so he could decide if he would rather eat the candy now or save his sweet item for dessert. Another camper told me after our first lunch together that he needed to go to the Well Shell (the turtle-themed camp medical center) for his “special water.” It turns out that he needed an IV hung after lunch every day. This same boy also has a colostomy bag that he empties and replaces every day. Did I mention this boy is only 10 years old?
One of the high points of my volunteer time was at our closing circle after our final breakfast together. After every meal, there was always loud music, singing and dancing. We knew going in that Henry, one of the boys I also worked with, would not dance. And true to that, he pretty much sat and observed everyone else at every dance session. But at our final closing circle, we were all doing a particular camp dance with arm motions, and when I looked to my right, there was Henry, dancing away with everyone else. What a moment!
The zipline at The Painted Turtle.
One very special event that will stay with me forever was with another boy, Michael. He had a liver transplant, but due to his medical condition, his lungs were failing. There is no long-term cure or treatment for his ailment. He was on oxygen 24/7 and had a backpack that infused him with medication to keep his lungs functioning. If he were to go more than 20 minutes without this medication, he would succumb to his illness. Well, he wanted to climb the ropes course and then zip-line down. First off, every one of my other campers successfully completed this very challenging rope climb. We wanted to find a way to allow Michael to complete it as well. We had our nurse, Jen, with us. Jen is a liver transplant nurse at the University of California Los Angeles and was one of the nurses who took care of Michael after his surgery, so she is very familiar with his care. We knew that Michael could go about 10 minutes without his oxygen tank, but the challenge was the need for a chest harness, and Michael’s backpack of medicine could not be removed or compromised. Jen called the Well Shell where Michael‘s transplant doctor was volunteering, and they decided that the harness can be put on under the backpack to allow Michael to complete this challenge. Jen and I stood back and watched Michael successfully complete the climb and zip-line down. Jen was brought to tears and shared with me that during Michael’s transplant and subsequent stay, his condition was touch-and-go. Michael is one of those special kids. I don’t know what it is, but after you spend time with him, you just know there is something different about him: the way he lights up a room, the way others respond to him, and the way he encourages and cheers everyone else on, whatever they are doing.
This was truly an amazing and beautiful experience. I would recommend it to anyone, as long as you are willing to put yourself out there, maybe look a little silly at times, and be open to whatever comes your way.
My Journey with the Bridge of Life Vietnam Medical Mission
Though short notice, when I read about an opportunity sponsored by DaVita Village Trust, in conjunction with the Project Vietnam Foundation (PVNF), I was very excited. Being of Vietnamese decent, I knew first hand of the medical need in this country. Though I’ve lived most of my life here in the United States and identify myself as American, deep down, I’m still Vietnamese. So when presented with the opportunity to give back in Vietnam, I took it. I was honored and fortunate to be chosen amongst hundreds of applicants. I thought, here is my opportunity to represent not only myself, but my teammate working extra hard to help out in my absence at Talbert Surgical Associates and DaVita.
I began this journey with only one expectation: that I would need to work hard. And, believe me, our team gave 110% everyday through some very tough conditions: hot weather, high humidity and polluted air; sketchy water; bugs; and rats. I didn’t know I had signed up for Survivor! But despite all the challenges and difficulties, this was absolutely the most fulfilling experience of my life. There was a sea of endless smiling faces waiting patiently in the sweltering sun for hours. This was their opportunity to see the “American Medical Team” that had traveled all this way to help them. We did what we could with the limited resources that each team member had packed along with their personal luggage for this mission. Our services may have been minor by our standards, but to the people that we served, it meant the world.
On our last day, our team was approached by one of the leaders from PVNF. They asked if anyone knew their blood type. So I stepped forward and told them that I was a universal donor, O-. They pulled me aside and asked if I would consider donating blood for a very sick child. Anemia and malnutrition are facts of life for most children in this part of the world. But this child was barely hanging on. It wasn’t a question of yes or no to me at this point, but, rather, when can we get this done. For me, it was the sooner, the better. A formal request to help this child was made to the medical director of the facility where we were working. After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, I was finally able to donate blood a couple of hours later.
Before we left, I was compelled to seek out this child and her parents to wish them well. Through tearful eyes, the child’s parents greeted me and Brooke, a DaVita Physician Assistant who examined the child from our delegation. Obviously, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room! During our short conversation, the mother told us that her child needed urgent surgery. But they are still short on money, even after selling their home for funds. So it was PVNF to the rescue! They donated more than enough funding to cover the surgery and then some.
This experience, along with the entire mission, has left me with a profound sense of gratitude. My daily challenges now pale in comparison to what I know many people in the world go through daily just to survive another day. So I’m grateful to DaVita Village Trust and PVNF for the opportunity to give back and to “give life.” Sign me up for the next mission! When and where are we going???
First Medical Mission to Vietnam Brings Health, Hope and Smiles
Despite a long journey and hot, challenging days, the 17 DaVita teammates who traveled to Sai Gon, Vietnam in March 2015 made a tremendous impact during Bridge of Life’s first Medical Mission to the country.
Teaming with Project Vietnam Foundation, we provided surgical, kidney care and primary care services to nearly 3,000 people over the course of 14 days. It was an amazing effort!
As part of the mission, our medical volunteers provided restoration surgery to 70 children with a cleft lip/palate. Some of the patients traveled great distances with their families in order to receive care. And while our team provided critical surgical expertise to help improve these children’s lives, they left with some meaningful benefits of their own. As one surgeon shared, “I came to Vietnam to give these kids a chance to smile, but I am the one leaving with a lifetime of happiness in my heart.”
Kidney care was another focus of our mission, and volunteers also spent time at hospitals in Ho Chi Minh City and Can Tho assessing two of the largest dialysis clinics in Vietnam. Together, these two clinics provide 5,500 dialysis treatments monthly to people with chronic kidney disease. And, despite valiant efforts, one hospital director estimates that half of the people in need of dialysis in the country are left without access to treatment. As a result, Bridge of Life is exploring ways to better educate and treat the underserved who are at risk of kidney disease in Vietnam. Clearly, there is opportunity for future mission trips to the country.
For the first time, we also had a team of volunteers focused on offering primary care to individuals in need. We provided health consultations and audiology, dental, vision and women’s health services to 2,488 people living in the rural highlands of Nghe An province. It was gratifying to reach so many men, women and children with a need for medical care in just four days.
Overall, our first venture into providing care in Vietnam was a wonderful learning opportunity and a meaningful experience for volunteers and community members alike.
Look for future blog posts that share remarkable firsthand accounts of volunteer experiences from Bridge of Life’s March 2015 Medical Mission to Vietnam.