During the RAVS clinic, Dr. Monger, RAVS director, taught clinic set-up; she was adamant, Recovery must be co-located with the O.R. She wanted the vets close to their patients and able to monitor them. Therefore,
the outdoor parking area was used as a combined O.R. and Recovery Room. A donated community auditorium was used for registration and discharge.
Co-locating surgery and recovery sure paid off. I saw one instance of a cat that quit breathing. The tech in charge of the Recovery Room yelled for a doc, Dr. Monger ran over, grabbed kitty, ran back to the O.R. and resuscitated, saving kitty's life.
Chris at the instrument cleaning station
The RAVS folks' primary job was teaching other vets, but they also taught us volunteers lots of stuff, like how to sterilize instruments using soap, water and a pressure cooker. The instrument sterilization station was my little domain, across from Recovery where I could observe the goings on with the animals as I scraped bloody body parts off of instruments and steamed them sterile.
The RAVS trainers taught our local volunteers how to monitor vital signs, temperature, respiration and heart rate. They were instructed when a situation required a doc's attention and were told, "When in doubt, call a doc." With the training, most volunteers graduated from passive observers to full-fledged care-givers.
RAVS' Dr. Monger training the masses
But for some, the training didn't take ... the not-so-helpful ones dubbed the OWC (by me). From my vantage point, invisible underneath a tree, I watched the OWC refuse responsibility and show no initiative. Sometimes they congregated in grousing groups, sometimes they pretended to work. If they had a motto it would have been, "First to criticize, last to serve."
An owner and patient in Recovery
Harsh criticism, but deserved; more than one clinic participant reported that the OWC actually hindered the operation. Vitals were ignored or improperly monitored and vets weren't apprised of shakey situations. Stories were told about how other volunteers had to work around the OWC in order to get flagging animals the attention they needed. In one case, Dr. Monger forbid clinic access to one of the volunteers for endangering her patients.
Dr. Doug (Spirit Quest) working as a vet
OWC aside, lots of caring, hard workers also volunteered. Many cruising friends popped in to help; Spirit Quest, Imagine, Ceilidh, and Adios lent helping hands, attacking any little job that needed attention in true cruiser can-do fashion. Stan, too, was a whirlwind of activity, the go-to guy for running errands, shopping for supplies and lifting heavy dogs. He even delivered a visiting vet's clothes to the laundry.
Kathy (Spirit Quest) with a patient and family
Stan was also the all-around problem solver; when the electricity went out, he brought in our Honda generator; when no one could figure out how to hook up/disconnect oxygen bottles, he was there with his trusty crescent wrench. He really found his niche as clinic troubleshooter, and says he enjoyed it a bunch.
Dr. Lori from Alberta, Dr. Gaby and Lori, Dr. Janet's tech from Maryland
Dr. Yolanda from Fundacion Haghenbech in Mexico City, and Nadia
Dr. Yolanda, another Haghenbech vet, and Dr. Janet from Maryland
Our own kitties' vet, Dr. Gaby Leyva, besides being co-founder of PATA, provides her services throughout the year, gratis to families in need, using PATA-purchased meds. We like supporting someone who does so much for our community.
We were particularly pleased to hear Doug's positive accounting of Dr. Gaby's skills, based on his observations in the O.R. He was very impressed with her surgical skill and competence, quite a compliment coming from a vascular surgeon. Good news for our three kitty-cats under her care.
Stats: PATA wrap-up under the Spay/Neuter Clinics tab.
Phew! Stan and I both worked all but one day of both clinics. Showing up at 7:00AM was hard enough for bodies gone soft on retirement, but the interaction with so many people, animals and crises wore us out. Then, after the kittens and pups all went home (or back to the streets), it took two more days to pack up supplies, dispose of waste, clean and return borrowed equipment, wash laundry, and clean up the donated auditorium. I think we earned our salaries.
Sometime soon we'll be asking for donations of surgical instruments, vet equipment and other necessities to help support future clinics. The plan will be to itemize a wish list, show where items can be purchased on ebay, and provide a US or Canadian mailing address for delivery. Then some kind soul will gather all the donations together and carry them south to Manzanillo. Please stand by for further instructions.
If you'd rather donate your time, mark your calendars for late February and early March. If you work hard, we promise not to be derisive. And we'll even let you enjoy the beach, the great seafood and the watersports in the Sailfish Capital of the World while you're here.
Rural Area Veterinary Services - RAVS
26 March, 2008
Barely catching our breath from our quick inland tour, Stan and I doffed our vacationers' hats and donned sombreros de voluntarios. We jumped in to help with a free spay/neuter clinic of a different kind.
Last year our first foray into the community was helping PATA with their annual clinic. This year, PATA scored a big coup by convincing the RAVS team to come to Manzanillo, hold a clinic and train local vets. Very cool.
The RAVS team
So what's RAVS and why are they so special? Rural Area Veterinary Services is an arm of the Humane Society. In their own words, they are "...a non-profit program combining community outreach and veterinary education to bring free veterinary services to underserved rural communities where poverty and geographic isolation make regular veterinary care inaccessible."
Most of the team was volunteers who paid their own way. One of the exciting things about the team was its mixed-up make-up. There were regular vets on leave from their own practices or teaching positions; vet students from various US schools and our own University of Colima; vet techs from around the US and Manzanillo; and untrained volunteers, like us, who pitched in and helped with the stoop labor. Some volunteers came from as far away as Guadalajara, Bucerias, La Manzanilla, and Melaque, as well as some cruisers from boats in the harbor. Some spoke English, some Spanish, and some spoke both languages, but all were team players and worked together, spectacularly.
Dr. Monger pre-briefing the volunteers
Director Dr. Susan Monger set the stage for the training and was able to walk the thin line between teaching and preaching. Her philosophy was to help the local vets use available resources and to help them expand their learning.
An amazing number of vets showed up, even paper-pushing inspectors from the port. It was evident that the RAVS training was effective by the positive attitudes and by the number of re-visits from the local vets, who took time off from their own practices to perform free operations, and learn stuff, too.
Manzanillo must have impressed the good doctor, because they're coming back next year!
Pátzcuaro, Tzintzuntzan, and Santa Clara de Cobre
21 March, 2008
Guy on the street going to work
Still on the butterfly trail ... our next-day tours included a bunch of little towns specializing in local crafts. Coming and going to the crafty places, we were also toured through an old convent, some Spanish colonial buildings, and a copper shop. To top off the day (night), our tourguide returned us to Pátzcuaro for dinner and dancing.
Stan lounging in the corner while the rest of the group was inside the artsy/craftsy shop snapping up bargains
Aquaduct and church
Convent bath
Convent
As the story goes, a young girl was sent off to this convent, but her daddy was sympathetic to her separation anxiety. He had a courtyard and bath built in an exact replica of her family home so she would feel more comfortable in her new residence.
A town just for working copper, Santa Clara de Cobre
Starting the process by heating and pounding into a ball
Finishing, bringing out the shine with a ball and hammer
Finishing a simple bowl takes 8 days, more complicated ones like these, longer (priced accordingly)
Another copper shop
A back street, Santa Clara de Cobre
Danza de Los Viejitos
The state of Michoacán is where the Danza de Los Viejitos (Dance of the Little Old Men) originated. The Purepecha people are said to have a unique rhythm, which is the inspiration to the dance, as well as the Indians' response to the Spanish.
Spanish rule was cruel and oppressive. To compensate, the oppressed needed a sense of humor. One of the ways they compensated was through dance. The fat and lazy Spanish overlords did not age gracefully, while older Mexican campesinos remained vigorous into their 80s. Costumed like viejos, the dancers showed the difference; they'd start out with shakey, feeble movements depicting the Spanish, but then break into a rollicking, clog-like routine, showing off their own aged strength and energy.
The clogging part came from their 2-part wooden sandals. Each sandal was hinged in the middle and a manic rhythm was set by cleverly clacking the front and back parts in double time to the music. Masks with hilarious, old-man expressions added to the fun; then, in-between sets, they'd flirt with the ladies. Here's an example from YouTube:
Santuario Mariposa Monarca - a Back Story
17 March, 2008
Upon assembly, some of our happy little tour group expressed surprise when informed of the strenuous sanctuary climb, upcoming. Some of the not-so-hail-and-hardy opted out, but a surprising number of the over-sixty contingent showed their mettle and opted in. One British couple, in particular, was ferociously determined to conquer the mountain.
This couple was stereotypically British; walking sticks, hiking boots, and stiff upper lips. It wasn't surprising when they persevered. Stories of their insistence to keep on climbing filtered off the mountain long before they actually managed to totter down again.
One of our more speedy hikers reported to the waiting group at the bottom that he'd crossed paths with the Brits ... the ole guy, and he must have been circling around ninety years old, though sweating, panting, drooling and dripping uncontrollably, refused to turn back. He was plodding steadily upward, stoicly led by his seeing-eye-person, necessary because, nearly blind, he had to be talked through every foot-fall (blindness doesn't preclude enjoying the butterfly spectacle - the flurry of flight is like pitter-pattering rain).
One of our tour guides finally descended to join our hungry hoard, alone, having left the little drama at the top in the hands of the other guide. They would catch up later, via taxi, whenever they managed to negotiate the downhill.
So the tour bus forged ahead to dinner. The lagging three finally stumbled into the restaurant during the main course ... glowing to our ovation. Smiles all around. Pip pip.
Santuario Mariposa Monarca
14 March, 2008
Fresh from our busride and ready to climb, we, and twenty other busloads, prepared to hike into the forest to view butterflies.
Stan at 9,000 feet
Seems odd to me that a butterfly migrates for thousands of miles to winter at 11,000 feet. How is this rarified Mexican mountain climate any better than the winter chillies they left behind in sunny CA, AZ or TX?
Sanctuary entrance
Just trudging the short uphill through the shops and restaurants, not even to the sanctuary entrance yet, our lungs let us know they were starving. Is it the thin air the Monarchs crave?
Sanctuary guide
Gasping, we regrouped at the entrance to gather our tickets (MX$25 entrance, MX$3 restroom) and our guide, a local lady of indeterminate age, who scampered up the hill ahead of us; just another stroll in the park for her.
Panting, climbing ... climbing, panting, first up engineered steps with up and down lanes, rest benches and a handrail; then up farther on a wide, dirt track, which was sprinkled by hose to keep down the dust (not to save delicate noses, but to keep delicate wings clean) - hose barbs and running water in the wilderness?
Soon, the forced march was forgotten as more and more flittering orange bodies appeared.
The life cycle and migration habits of the Monarch are fascinating. Here's more information about them, with live updates from Mexico.
Santuario Mariposa Monarca
13 March, 2008
Fueled up on the package-deal breakfast at 7:00AM: fruit, yogurt, juice, coffee, beans, chiliquiles, eggs, hotcakes ... jolly tourists, we rolled onto the bus and were off to the hinterlands of Michoacan by 8:00AM. Four hours later the bunch of us were getting ready to get ready, hiking the path to the entrance of the sanctuary, a tour of its own.
Path to the sanctuary
Raul, a local Morelia tourguide joined the party at the hotel. As the bus climbed the mountain to El Rosario, he described the history of the sanctuary thusly, "The Mexican federal government distributed this land to rural people, mostly Indian, in the first half of the 20th century as ejidos, communal agricultural cooperatives. That same government declared mountains where monarchs winter to be untouchable sanctuaries of worldwide importance in 1986. Logging by ejido members (ejiditarios) was banned without compensation. The ejiditarios were angry. They felt that prohibiting logging and inviting 200,000 tourists to invade their homes destroyed their economy."
"And yet the people of the ejidos control the monarch's destiny. Gradually, they are becoming convinced that this is a good thing. They work as guides and horse packers, security and parking guards, ticket sellers, and craft and food vendors."
"The monarchs come to the most endangered forest in Mexico. Ejiditarios continue to poach marketable wood from the sanctuaries in order to feed their families, fraying the protective shelter of the groves so much that scientists have designated the monarch migration a "threatened phenomenon." For two years, monarch numbers have plummeted. But the research baseline is barely 20 years old, so we know little of population cycles or long-term effects of tourism."
"The more money locals make from tourism, the better for the monarchs, but to cook food for tourists, they need firewood - accelerating deforestation and threatening butterflies. Entrance fees are less than $2; wages are low. Conservation funding ebbs and flows with changing Mexican politics. The issues couldn't be more complicated." (from Monarch Article)
One of many restaurants along the way
Santuario Mariposa Monarca - Getting There
8 March, 2008
We may not seem like tour-bus types. We don't seem that way to ourselves, for sure.
A very cool thing about tour buses is that riding unseen, above the crowd, with no driving or navigating to molest the mind, one's inner child (voyeaur) is free to play with the lens finder. We took full advantage, right through the window. The following pix are from a shooting spree between Morelia and El Rosario, the sanctuary town.
Where Ya Been?
1 March, 2008
Tour bus to Morelia
A coupla days ago, Stan and I jumped a tour bus for a bit of inland travel, the ultimate goal, Monarch butterflies at
11,000 feet. Our tour-bus demographics reflected the general gringo population here on the Gold Coast, 10-to-1 Canadians to us'ns (US-types); median age around 75. Eyeballing the busload, one became curious why a complete geriatric ward would sign up for a rigorous hike up a mountainside for butterfly ogling.
Eclipsing moon over Morelia hotel
Our curiosity continued on arrival in Morelia when a four-block walk to dinner stirred up grumbles. The stroll was timed perfectly with the moon's eclipse. As we marched through clean city streets, though, our mates were gritchy from the ten-hour busride and subsequently enjoyed their wine more than the view.
Snickering to ourselves, we predicted huge hiking failure ... were pleasantly surprised when proven very wrong.
Upon our return from the hinterlands, we both jumped into supporting roles at the annual spay/neuter clinic. Unused to early days, or work, we'll be posting more about our quest for butterflies when the demands on our time lighten up.
SolMate Santiago contact: mj(at)solmatesantiago(dot)com
Pátzcuaro, Tzintzuntzan, and Santa Clara de Cobre
