Category Archives: disease

Polish Realia: Funerals

Wojewódski Szpital Zespolony w Kielcach
‘County General Hospital in Kielce’

Zakaz wjazdu na teren prosektorium za wyątkiem rodzin osób zmarłych oraz przedsiębiorstw pogrzebowych dowożących i wywożących osoby zmarłe.
‘No entry on the property of the morgue, except for families of the deceased and funeral homes delivering and removing the deceased.’

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Usługi Pogrzebowa ‘Funeral Services’
Telefony Całodobowe ‘Telephones Always Available’

Dom Pogrzebowy ‘Home Funerals’
Nowoczesne Chłodnie ‘Modern Cold Storage’
Przewoży Zmarłych z Domów i Szpitali ‘Moving bodies from homes and hospitals’
Oryginalne Karawany ‘Original Caravans’
Autokary ‘Coaches’

Kaplice Pożegnań ‘Chapel Farewells’
Producent Trumien ‘Making Coffins’
Kremacje, Urny ‘Cremation, Urns’
Katakumby, Nagrobki ‘Crypts, Tombstones’
Wieńce, Wiązanki ‘Wreaths, Bouquets’

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Zniczomat ‘Lanternmat’ (at the cemetery)
Automat z Wkładami do Zniczy ‘Automated Candle Dispenser for Lanterns’

Strefa Zniczo Dzielenia ‘Lantern Sharing Zone’
Znicze w Tórnego Obiegu ‘Lanterns in Circulation’
Nie wyrzucaj zniczy ‘Don’t discard lanterns’
Podziel się z innym ‘Share them with others’

1 Dopasuj wysokość wykładu ‘Measure the height of the product/candle’
2 Kup wykład ‘Buy the product/candle’ (Dotknij ekran ‘Touch screen’)
3 Odbierz wykład ‘Pick up the product/candle’

Pierwszy taki automat w Polsce! ‘The first such automat in Poland!’

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Dokarmiaj Ptaki Mądrze / Feed Birds Wisely

Nie karm ptaków chlebem! Don’t feed birds bread!
Nie podawaj produktów przyprawionych i solonych!
Don’t serve spiced and salted products!
Resztki jedzenia, przetworzona żywność, w tym pieczywo, szkodzą ptakom i przyczyniają się do wielu chorób. Zawarta w nich sól jest szkodliwa i może prowadzić do ich odwodnienia i chorób nerek.
Leftover food, processed food, including baked goods, harms birds and contributes to many diseases. The salt contained in them is harmful and can lead to their dehydration and kidney disease.

Czym dokarmiać ptaki? What to feed the birds?
Ziarna zbóż: słonecznik, pszenica, kasze, kukurydza, płatki owsiane, otręby.
Cereal grains: sunflower, wheat, groats, corn, oat flakes, bran.
Gotowane warzywa bez soli: pokrojona marchew, buraki, ziemniaki, kapusta.
Vegetables prepared without salt: sliced carrots, beetroots, potatoes, cabbage.

Jak dokarmiać ptaki? How to feed birds?
Nie wrzucaj jedzenia do wody! Don’t throw food in the water!
Pokarm podostaw ptakom na brzegu, w miejscu spokojnym, czystym i suchym.
Leave food for the birds on the shore, in a quiet, clean, and dry place.

Source photograph

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Bengal Famine, 1943

From Burma ’44: The Battle That Turned World War II in the East, by James Holland (Grove Atlantic, 2024), Kindle pp. 112-114:

Most Bengalis lived an extremely precarious existence. Some ten million were utterly dependent on agriculture, but of these more than half held less than 2 acres of land and many none at all. There was charity and relief but no social welfare; they had to fend for themselves. Through the first half of 1943 food prices had increased dramatically. … This was due in part to the shortages in Bengal but also to increased demand for the feeding of troops in India, as well as demand from around the world. It was artisans who suffered first, because as poverty increased so the money available for goods dried up. Then the shortages hit the wider Bengali population, many of whom left the country for the cities. By the time Tom Grounds was on leave in Calcutta, the city was bursting with the influx of impoverished families searching for food.

Yet while the cost of food was certainly a factor, the biggest problem now facing the authorities was how to get food to Bengal and urgently. The state had already been an importer of food for over a decade and most of it had come from Burma, now closed to India. The loss of Burma had been disastrous for Bengal’s fragile economy and the subsequent cyclone had made it catastrophic. Where else could it be sourced? North America and South America were the obvious places, but the amount needed was enormous and would have required a major diversion of shipping at a time when the demands on such seaborne transport had never been greater.

That August, Churchill was not prepared suddenly to release shipping to take food to Bengal; however draconian that may seem, far away in Britain the problems of the Bengalis seemed less pressing than the urgent need to maintain supplies at a crucial moment in the war. Britain and America were fighting in Sicily – an island that could be supplied effectively only by ship; they were about to invade mainland Italy, which also required an amphibious operation and supply; they were preparing for the invasion of north-west Europe; and they were fighting the Japanese throughout the Pacific. Was Churchill really expected to interrupt the war effort, and current operations, with millions of lives at stake in theatres of war around the world? Who was to say what effect such a diversion of shipping would have on the eventual length of the war, with its implications for further loss of life? In any case, ships could not be diverted from the far side of the Atlantic, for example, at the drop of a hat. Churchill was not to blame.

Not all India was facing famine – only Bengal and the north-east. One problem was that in 1935 the government had ceded considerable central power to the provinces, where the regional governments were all democratically elected. The previous year, 1942, these had all agreed to introduce trade barriers between one another. The central government of India now announced there should be free trade in grain, but plans to send relief to Bengal had been obstructed by local government officers, police and other officials who feared their own provinces risked suffering a similar fate to that of Bengal. Wavell, in one of his first acts as Viceroy-Designate, had forced the issue by threatening legal and even military action, and by August substantial amounts of grain had finally begun to arrive in Bengal. It was, however, too little too late to bring a swift end to the humanitarian disaster rising horrifically throughout the region. Relief kitchens hastily set up in Calcutta and elsewhere were simply not enough. With malnutrition came disease; those not dying of starvation were just as likely to succumb to typhus, malaria or cholera, and there were not enough hospitals or medical care to cope.

The famine had certainly been exacerbated by the war and by the fact that the Indian government had prioritized combatting the Japanese above all other matters. Yet the authorities, although slow to react, were certainly not immune to the horrors unfolding and, of course, while the tragedy of human suffering was truly appalling, the famine was yet another massive problem for the Allied command to overcome. It stretched already overstretched lines of supply, pushed the limited medical services to breaking point, affected food supplies to the troops, further sapped the morale of those who witnessed the starving, dying and dead throughout Bengal, and damaged the reputation of the British even more, and all at a time when there was a new Viceroy and Commander-in-Chief.

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Filed under Bangladesh, Britain, Burma, disease, food, Italy, Japan, migration, military, Pacific, U.S., war

Fighting Malaria in Burma, 1944

From Burma ’44: The Battle That Turned World War II in the East, by James Holland (Grove Atlantic, 2024), Kindle pp. 54-55:

[A] pragmatic mindset was most definitely needed in the battle against endemic sickness. Slim recognized, just as the new Supreme Commander recognized, that prevention was better than cure. Mountbatten had made bringing new medical advances and research to the theatre a priority – something that was far beyond Slim’s own influence; but he could improve medical practice and discipline at the front and he was determined to do so as a major priority. Up until the autumn of 1943, if a soldier contracted malaria, for example, he was then transported, while his disease was at its height, hundreds of miles by road, rail and even sea to a hospital in India. This, on average, took him out of the line for around five months. All too often he might then be re-employed in India and never return to Burma. To get around this problem, new Malaria Forward Treatment Units – MFTUs – were now set up. These were, to all intents and purposes, tented hospitals just a few miles behind the front lines. A man with malaria would reach these within twenty-four hours and remain there for three weeks or so until he was cured. When fit, he was sent straight back to his unit.

Mepacrine anti-malaria tablets were also issued to the men, but their introduction was met with the rumour that they caused impotence. This was entirely without foundation, and Slim rigidly insisted that regimental officers make sure the men were taking their Mepacrine. He even introduced spot visits where every man was checked; if the result was less than 95 per cent positive, he summarily sacked the commanding officer. He only ever had to sack three; the message got around quickly and, equally swiftly, that autumn cases of malaria began to fall.

The regimental officers were also told to maintain strict medical discipline in other areas. Trousers were to be worn, not shorts; and shirts were to be worn with the sleeves down before sunset when insects were at their worst; minor abrasions were to be treated immediately and before, not after, they turned septic. The fight against sickness, Slim insisted, had to be a united effort: discipline, sound practice and common sense were key. And already, as the year drew to a close, the health of Fourteenth Army was showing signs of improving – not massively so just yet, but on the chart that hung on Slim’s wall in his office at Comilla the curve indicating hospital admissions was beginning to sink.

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Filed under malaria, military, war, Britain, drugs, Burma, disease

Dziękuję za cud!

9 stycznia 2026

Jako linguista, najbardziej obawiałem się utraty języka.

Ale,
Dzięki Bogu,
Dzięki szpitalu,
Dzięki służbom ratownictwa medycznego,
Dzięki wam wszystkim z neurologii,

Nawet po udar,
Mogę chodzić
Mogę mówić
Mogę uczyć się więcej języka polskiego!

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My Stroke of Luck

I was discharged from the Cardiology Dept. of Wojewódzki Szpital Zespolony w Kielcach on December 19, after 9 days in their care, just in time for plummeting temperatures and fresh snowfall. And also in time for the arrival of our daughter’s eagerly awaited visit. After 10 days of recovery at home, we took the train to Krakow, where we spent New Year’s Eve (Sylwester) and part of New Year’s Day before taking the train back to Kielce. Although I didn’t join my wife and our visitors for any sightseeing, I must have strained my heart on the way back home, because I woke up the next morning in the throes of a stroke.

My wife dialed 112 on her Polish phone and soon got a response from an English-speaking dispatcher who sent an ambulance crew to our apartment. Very soon, two sturdy men came in, tested me for stroke symptoms, then got me dressed, tightly grabbed each arm and walked me to the elevator, then out to the ambulance. Acting quickly at the ER, they slathered me with antiseptic povidine-iodine from my thighs to my shoulders to prepare for a mechanical thrombectomy, the optimal treatment for an ischemic stroke if performed within 6 hours. Within 2 hours, the doctors located the clot in the back of my neck, made a small incision in my groin, then threaded catheters through my blood vessels to the clot. A tiny device at the catheter’s tip grabbed the clot and removed it, restoring blood flow in my brain.

I woke up in an intake ward with each patient confined to bed and hooked to monitors that went off frequently for the next 24 hours, as did a few of the patients. During next morning rounds, however, my surgeon came by, tested my coordination, and told me (in English) that they had found the clot and removed it, that it was not in a position to cause lasting damage, and that I would be walking by day’s end. I nearly cried in relief!

Sure enough, later that day an orderly wheeled me in my bed and with my personal effects locker (szafka) into a small room with private WC that included a shower! I had no trouble getting out of my old bedclothes, taking a long hot shower that scratched my terrible rash from the povidine-iodine antiseptic (which took daily injections to clear up), and changing into new bedclothes before anyone else came by.

My wife arrived with new supplies in time to meet the previous occupant and chat in English with his son. The father told me in Polish that he had stayed there 7 days, and added “Gut schlafen!” On my seventh day, I got to meet the next occupant. He was a workaholic builder with his own laptop and cellphone hotspot (and a hole in his heart). We traded notes in macaronic mixtures of Italian & Romanian, Polish and English. (He had a sister in Switzerland who spoke several more languages.) I also mixed some Romanian and Italian with one of the cleaning ladies (from Tuscany), and exchanged a bit of German with one of the technicians who fitted me with a portable 24-hr EKG one day, and a portable 24-hr BP-monitor a day or two later.

The Neurology Complex of Wojewódzki Szpital Zespolony w Kielcach is highly rated. The bulletin board near the nurses station displayed a certificate awarding it an ISO 9001:2015 Quality Management System status for 2019 through 2028. It is no coincidence that Holy Cross Voivodship is demographically the oldest in Poland. One of their sonograph technicians thoroughly explored my carotid arteries on their high-quality equipment and said he found no abnormalities. A senior technician later ultrasonically investigated the left atrium of my heart, which used to host a thrombus in situ. He didn’t find anything, so it seems that that thrombus is what broke off, lodged at the base of my neck, and caused my stroke, until it was removed by my surgical team. A miracle!

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Liberating Slave Labor Camps

From Victory ’45: The End of the War in Eight Surrenders, by James Holland and Al Murray (Grove Atlantic, 2025), Kindle pp. 135-136:

The 3rd Infantry Division might have been first to Berchtesgaden, first to be able to crawl over the Berghof and first to reach the dizzy 6,000-foot heights of the Kehlsteinhaus, but they were not allowed to remain for long. Colonel Heintges had expected to be there for at least a week, but the following day the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment reached the town, part of the 101st ‘Screamin’ Eagles’ Airborne Division, and much to Heintges’ disappointment the Cottonbalers were relieved, while Leclerc’s men moved in on the Obersalzberg.

Yet while capturing Nazis and vast numbers of German troops was very much the Allies’ ongoing mission and a key part of securing Germany’s surrender, so too was liberating the astonishing number of concentration and forced labour camps. Nordhausen, a vast slave labour camp that fed workers into the Mittelbau-Dora factory where the V-2s had been manufactured, had been liberated on 11 April. The stench had been so bad that the American and British liberators had nearly all started vomiting. Buchenwald had been liberated the same day. A few days later, on 15 April, British troops had reached Bergen-Belsen, where tens of thousands of Jews had been left to starve. The arrival of Allied troops at these places of human degradation, misery and death was a watershed moment. Most found it hard to comprehend that fellow humans could be treated with such untold cruelty. Photographs and film footage of skeletal survivors, but also of piles of dead between the disease-infested huts, were quickly shown around the free world and prompted understandable feelings of shock, outrage and, of course, revulsion against the people responsible for this. It was hardly surprising that feelings towards the Germans hardened further; the enemy had continued fighting long after Germany had lost the war. Needless lives had been lost. Anger had already been rising among Allied troops, who saw no reason why they should risk their lives in this pointlessness. Now they were coming across scales of inhumanity that few could comprehend. Anger, disgust, horror and diminishing compassion for a subjugated enemy were the feelings aroused in many of the liberators.

And there were just so many camps. Every day Allied troops reached another, invariably presaged by the noticeable absence of birdsong and the rising stench that filled the air. On 4 May, the same day that Lieutenant Sherman Pratt and his men reached the Obersalzberg, it was the turn of the 71st ‘Red Circle’ Infantry Division. In sharp contrast to the battle-hardened 3rd Infantry Division, the 71st was one of the newest units to arrive in the ETO, landing in France only on 6 February 1945 and not heading into combat until early March. They’d seen plenty of action since then, however, and done well too, first attached to Patch’s Seventh Army and then moved to join Patton’s Third Army as it swept on into Austria and Czechoslovakia on the northern flank of 6th Army Group. And it was into Upper Austria, on the road to Hitler’s home city of Linz, that the Red Circle Division came across the horrifying site of Gunskirchen Lager.

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Filed under Austria, Britain, disease, Germany, industry, labor, military, slavery, U.S., war

Not the End of Faroutliers Yet!

I want to express my profound gratitude and appreciation to the doctors, nurses, technicians, and orderlies of Wojewódzki Szpital Zespolony w Kielcach for saving my life during my sudden blogging hiatus this month. I was experiencing a variety of symptoms of my body shutting down: extreme fatigue, loss of appetite, loss of weight, short-windedness, etc. My wife booked me a general checkup at a private clinic, who referred me immediately to the emergency room of the top provincial (voivodal) hospital when they saw extreme atrial fibrillation in my EKG. My heart was not pumping enough blood into the rest of my body.

One of the senior triage nurses that welcomed me became my guardian angel. She could speak in tongues! She had worked abroad in Ireland and spoke very fast and fluent English. She explained what I could expect in the busy Cardiology and Electrotherapy Ward, and during each of her shifts, she would come by and tell me what their findings were and what to expect next.

They first checked my heart with EKGs and tomography, and got my heartrate under control with a panoply of drugs that I am now taking at home. I could see my BP finally begin to rise from low systolic 55 until it broke 100. (My typical BP used to be ~120/70.) I began predicting my temperature and BP in Polish numbers. My appetite quickly revived with the hearty but healthy Polish hospital fare served from a roll-around field kitchen.

The least pleasant task was last, downing 3 liters of laxative-laden water before 10 pm, and one more liter after 5 am to prepare for my colonoscopy the next morning. After that procedure I underwent an extremely painful gastroscopy, without anesthesia in either procedure. They were both critical steps in my diagnosis. After a night to recover, I was discharged the next day, with a full hospital record of every assessment, measurement, dosage, or procedure, all in Polish.

I came home with a much lighter heart, an appetite intact, a long list of pharmaceuticals, and a much rosier outlook as the days finally begin to lengthen! I’ll try to follow up with a few lighter-hearted impressions of this foreigner’s week in a Polish hospital ward.

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RLS at Peak Productivity

From Storyteller: The Life of Robert Louis Stevenson, by Leo Damrosch (Yale University Press, 2025), Kindle pp. 447-449:

From 1884 to 1887 Louis produced an astonishing number and range of publications. Most notable were Kidnapped and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. In addition there were The Silverado Squatters, Prince Otto, A Child’s Garden of Verses, other poems collected as Underwoods, stories collected as More New Arabian Nights and as The Merry Men and Other Tales and Fables, the essay collection Memories and Portraits, and a Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin (his Edinburgh mentor had died at this time, at the early age of fifty-two). Prolific as this output was, he enjoyed telling friends that he was completing other works as well, such as Herbert and Henrietta: or The Nemesis of Sentiment, Happy Homes and Hairy Faces, and A Pound of Feathers and a Pound of Lead.

This torrent of writing may seem surprising, since as Rosaline Masson noted in her biography of Louis, he had been almost constantly incapacitated by illness since sailing to America in 1879.

He had been a chronic invalid, submitting to an invalid’s life, at Monterey and San Francisco; in the Highlands—Pitlochry and Braemar; at Davos; at Stobo Manse; at Kingussie; again at Davos; in France—St. Marcel and Hyères—ever seeking for health, never finding it. And now at Bournemouth there awaited him a life of accepted invalidism spent chiefly in the sickroom, suffering constant pain and weakness, often forbidden for days or even weeks to speak aloud, and having to whisper or write on paper all he wanted to say to his wife or his friends. And yet these three years proved a very industrious and successful time in Stevenson’s life.

But it’s equally possible that if he had been more active, he would have written less.

George Eliot once wrote, “To know intense joy without a strong bodily frame, one must have an enthusiastic soul.” Louis didn’t care for Eliot’s novels—he thought they were too preachy—but he did have an enthusiastic soul, and experienced joy even at the darkest times. Although he often declared that action was more important than writing, for him writing was action.

Louis remarked that he was living in an age of transition, and that was a widely used term when traditional assumptions about art were giving way to modernism. Reacting against the dense and earnestly moralizing Victorian novels, writers were now emphasizing individuality of vision and skillfully crafted style. The author of Treasure Island and Kidnapped would never have espoused the slogan “Art for art’s sake,” but the contemporary critic William Archer was right to call him “a modern of the moderns, both in his alert self-consciousness and in the particular artistic ideal which he proposes to himself. He professes himself an artist in words.” Alan Sandison takes this statement as the keynote for his Robert Louis Stevenson and the Appearance of Modernism, showing convincingly that “his experiments, his ceaseless questing among forms, ensured that of all his contemporaries his works show the greatest and most radical diversity.”

Louis did take offense at Archer’s suggestion that he indulged too freely in “aggressive optimism.” Louis wrote to Archer to say that far from devoting his life to manly exercise, as Archer had assumed, he had been a perpetual invalid, and his art was compensation for that. “To have suffered, nay, to suffer, sets a keen edge on what remains of the agreeable. This is a great truth, and has to be learned in the fire. Yours very truly, Robert Louis Stevenson.” Archer quickly made amends, and they became friends.

At this time Louis fell under the spell of Dostoevsky, reading Crime and Punishment in French translation since there was no English version as yet. In a letter to Henley he exclaimed, “Dostoieffsky is of course simply immense—it is not reading a book, it is having a brain fever to read it.”

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Filed under biography, disease, labor, literature, migration, philosophy, publishing

Venezuela’s Malaria Battle

From Venezuela’s Collapse: The Long Story of How Things Fell Apart, by Carlos Lizarralde (Codex Novellus, 2024), Kindle pp. 241-243:

Chávez, Chavismo, and its intellectual supporters in Venezuela and abroad, had argued since 2004 that the old liberal state could not produce people who cared for the well-being of the majority. The “representative” governments from the 20th century had not been able to deliver for all. But if there is an area where the liberal state was able to create long-lasting institutions with veritable results, it was health care.

The first nationwide, publicly funded efforts to eradicate malaria started during Rómulo Betancourt’s first government in 1945. The program had begun under the old generals in the mid-1930s. Dutch, British, and American oil companies had been active in the eradication of the disease in their areas of influence. But Betancourt’s social priorities and taxes on oil companies provided a new impetus. The efforts led by Dr. Arnoldo Gabaldón started with a massive campaign to eradicate mosquitoes in malaria zones. Within three to five years malaria had disappeared from the areas where the infecting mosquito predominated, although the WHO would not certify the disease had been eradicated from the country. Betancourt and his party would be thrown out by a coup in 1948, only to return to power by February of 1959. One of his first acts the second-time around was to name Dr. Arnoldo Gabaldón as Health Minister. The renewed emphasis and funding would officially free the country of malaria by 1961. Gabaldón’s work did not stop as efforts to build a robust central health authority continued for a decade. Critically, his lifework had been dedicated to getting the academic and practical experience necessary to build such an organization.

Gabaldón had started work as an assistant at the Ministry of Health in 1928, when generals still ruled the country. This gave him an early acquaintance with the ins and outs of the health bureaucracy across the country. He then studied at the German Institute of Naval and Tropical Diseases and the Italian Experimental Station for the Antimalarial Battle, before returning to Venezuela in 1932. He received a health science doctorate from Johns Hopkins University in 1935 through the Rockefeller Foundation and interned at Rockefeller University in New York City.

Upon returning to Venezuela, he joined the Ministry once again. At that time, fighting malaria was the country’s number one priority. By 1945 no pathogen, including the influenza virus that caused the 1918 pandemic, caused more deaths than malaria in Venezuela. The population had declined between 1891 and 1920 because of the disease. The historical devastation caused by malaria no doubt contributed to the zeal with which a generation of reformers fought a tireless battle against it.

First in his front-line role eradicating malaria, and then as the builder of a first-class health ministry and epidemiology network, Gabaldón delivered the most enduring results in the history of Venezuelan health care. Over three decades he dedicated himself to reforming, modernizing, and growing an existing, prior organization. The deep differences between Betancourt’s perspective and that of the military governments he had overturned had no real impact on Gabaldón’s work. His formula of achieving scale through incremental reforms, long-term training of middle cadres, deploying compliance systems, and creating strong legal frameworks, continued until the 1970s. Gabaldón was able to defeat every health challenge he met, to international acclaim. The epidemiology systems he created prevented the return of any serious epidemic for more than forty years, until everything he had built was dismantled.

Gabaldón’s legacy was overturned in the name of the people’s originary wisdom and the virtues of intuitive decision-making in health matters. Yet, no one suffered more than those in whose name the health sector was destroyed. By 2017, over a decade into the Chavista dismantling of the liberal state, more than 400,000 Venezuelans had been infected by malaria. This increase amounted to 84% of the rise in malaria cases between 2010 and 2017 around the world.

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Filed under democracy, disease, education, malaria, nationalism, Venezuela