Today’s word is legal, pronounced hey-gao. It means “cool!” as in, “that music is cool” or, “it was a really cool experience.” Like English, there are many Portuguese synonyms for cool as well as regional variations. I don’t know which variation is most popular in Campinas, but as with all the words I have been using here in Brazil, I just give it a try and see how people react! Everyone I have met has been very helpful in assisting my attempts to learn the language. É muito legal!
Preventing Cholera has a Raspberry Flavour
January 17, 2012
I leave for Brazil next week. As any traveler should, I have made many preparations of the health and medical variety. In December I went to a travel health clinic where a thorough and knowledgeable nurse spent an hour both alarming me and assuaging my worry with various injections and pills. It was actually a fascinating experience. You see, for some areas of the world, the vaccinations that one should acquire are obvious; for others, whether a vaccine is required or not depends on the person. In my case, with no immunological or other reasons why I should or should not receive a particular vaccine and taking into consideration the area of Brazil in which I will live, the nurse often left the decision whether to vaccinate up to me. So in effect, the decisions were made based on my level of alarm… Yellow fever: yes (I read the wikipedia article; it doesn’t sound good… “hemorrhagic”). Typhoid: yes (sounds terrible… and historical). Rabies: no (don’t plan on being bitten by a bat, and not so alarmed as to schedule, show up, and pay for the three appointments necessary).
Yesterday, I took Dukoral. This is a vaccination against cholera. The commercials affectionately call the affliction “traveler’s diarrhea.” But, I am not sure if this is because “cholera” is a highly alarming word or one that would not resonate with their target market, or because the vaccine also partially protects against E. coli, another source of the highly unpleasant symptoms with which many travelers are familiar.
Where I currently live, there is a shortage of Dukoral. I don’t know why, as I couldn’t find any information online, but I called several pharmacies and they spoke to me with the kind of rehearsed answers that let you know they’ve fielded these calls from concerned travelers a lot lately. I finally found some at Shopper’s Drug Mart.
Taking Dukoral is also an interesting experience since you become your own vaccinator. You can buy it over the counter and it comes out of their fridge. You must buy two, take one two weeks before you go, and store the other in your fridge to take a week later. The package comes with “effervescent raspberry flavoured” bicarbonate of soda (to neutralize stomach acid) and a vial of liquid containing “Heat- and formalin-killed whole-cell V. cholerae O1 Classical and El Tor vibrios.” Mix it up and drink it down! Yum.
Except not yum. It was disgusting.
Still, I appreciate very much the ease with which I became my own preventative healthcare provider. I am reminded, by contrasting this experience, that cholera is a highly-infectious yet largely preventable and treatable illness given access to clean drinking water, systems of sanitation, and proper medical supplies. Over 100,000 people per year die from cholera. According to the World Health Organization, cholera is a key indicator of social development. In a word, the disgusting “raspberry” flavour of Dukoral is a privilege to taste.
Note: There is a fabulously-researched book about cholera called Stories in the Time of Cholera: Racial Profiling During A Medical Nightmare (2004) by Briggs and Mantini-Briggs that I can’t recommend more for an effusively critical look at the global structures that make death from cholera still possible for highly-marginalized people, and for an excellent example of the power, creativity, and diversity of ethnography as a research method.
