For most modern urban folks, weather plays a minimal role. Sure, if it’s raining you might cancel taking your child to the park, but it takes pretty severe weather to stop most people going to work, going out to dinner, or doing most of the other activities that we have on our calendars.

But this is actually a pretty recent phenomenon. For most of history, and for large portions of the human population today, weather stills greatly impacts not just day-to-day activities but survival. Its importance is still felt in our traditional marking of events like the solstice, when the days stop getting shorter and as winter begins to really dig in, we mark the return of the sun and our faith that the icy cold season of hardship will eventually end—our celebration that there is (sun)light at the end of the long dark tunnel of winter, and that there will be a rebirth of life and warmth if we can just hold fast until spring.

For thousands of years, folks around the world have coped with the long dark by taking stock of our year and celebrating the things that make us strong: family, friends, hope, faith in the future, faith in humanity, and determination to survive the winter.

I would say we have had two years of winter so far, a long dark COVID Winter. We never really know exactly when spring will come. Sometimes it comes early, sometimes late. But though the winter of our COVID discontent continues to grind us under its cruel heel, Spring always comes eventually. No winter last forever.

So this solstice I remind myself that this too shall pass. Ancient peoples thought belief was important to ensure that seasons would change and spring would return. And I agree with them. It is our belief in the possibility of a better world tomorrow, our belief in Spring, that motivates our actions today to endure and to manifest that better world.

Today I look at the rising sun and I believe. Spring will come—not because we sacrifice our finest calf, but because so many people share this belief and work every day to end the COVID winter and bring back the sun. Every little compassion and kindness and service brings us one day closer.

And why not? After all, the sunrise has never failed us yet.

“If our hopes of building a better and safer world are to become more than wishful thinking, we will need the engagement of volunteers more than ever.” — Kofi Annan

Since March 2020 we have put a temporary hold on our volunteer program in response to the pandemic, and have been caring for our patients with a small crew of five to make sure food and medical supplies are distributed, our chronic patients are still treated, emergency cases are addressed, and the facts surrounding the spread as well as key health education is disseminated throughout our populations. We are also working closely with the Ministry of Health to monitor the virus. 

After a year without full clinics, the medical need is building up and we are ready to begin accepting a limited amount of volunteers to help our patients, while following strict infection-control protocol.

As of March 28th, 2021, we will begin accepting a limit of 5 volunteers per week, so that each volunteer will be able to socially distance properly during training and meals, and will each have  a dedicated bathroom space. Volunteers will need to provide proof of COVID immunization prior to traveling into the vulnerable Ngäbe communities, who may not receive the vaccine for some time.

   Please feel free to reach out with any questions via email at [email protected]. We wish you all the best in your life and endeavors in the meantime, and look forward to having the opportunity to work with you someday soon. 

As we close out August and what feels like the millionth month of quarantine from a novel virus, we’re looking toward what this season typically brings for most people: back to school and sporting events that either put us all in packed stadiums or crowded bars watching a screen. For those of us in the northern hemisphere, it’s the last hurrah before colder weather pushes us all indoors and flu season takes hold.

Flu season… and the debates over whether to get the flu vaccine.  This year, we’re all also talking about the development of a vaccine for COVID-19.  When will it be ready?  Has it been tested enough?  Will we get the vaccine if it shows to be “only 30%” effective at preventing COVID?

Well timed, August is also National Immunization Awareness Month in the United States.  While we could share statistics showing the efficacy of vaccinations and the low risk associated with it, we’d much rather share some of the life experiences that explain why we support vaccination (all data aside.)

Despite massive trust issues between the indigenous population and any outside agency, there is pretty much zero vaccine pushback from the communities we serve, even from those individuals who otherwise prefer botanic medicine to western medicine. This is because many have a fresh, living memory of life before vaccines… and they remember all too well.

In our clinics, we ask all female patients how many pregnancies they have had, and how many living children they have, and believe us- the child mortality rate was not good. Especially when you look at women who were childbearing 30 years ago or more, you start seeing a lot more women who have had 8 or 9 or more pregnancies, but only 5 or 6 living children (or less), many of those dying in the first 5 years of life.

Then vaccines started to get out into the population and the children started living to reach adulthood– and the resulting massive population boom has actually caused all kinds of challenges for subsistence families living with no power, clean water, sanitation, or roads in remote jungle settings. Many Ngäbe feel these challenges keenly (feeding a large family, growing enough, earning enough, cutting down more jungle to build more homes…in some communities there are so many kids that half go to school on one day and half go on another day). Very real issues, to be sure, but the Ngäbe prefer to deal with those rather than expecting half their children to die by age 5.

Many we’ve spoken to here are puzzled that there is a movement by parents in the United States and elsewhere to not vaccinate their children. Their experience is that without immunizations, their children will likely die of communicable- and preventable- disease.  The stories of those with first-hand knowledge of life pre-and post-immunization is extremely valuable to understanding important aspects of the relationship most of these communities have with the healthcare systems in their region. It encourages us- most of whom the population benefits of mass vaccination is removed by a generation or more- to pause and consider the question: Why would a population that has had such difficulty with the government in the past be so enthusiastic about receiving vaccines provided by this same government? The answer, to us, is clear- for them, it is literally a matter of life or death.

How is it the middle of August?  With the way the past few months has played out for the world, it feels like time has stood still for months but at the same time a million years have passed. So little seems to be happening and yet SO MUCH is happening.  It’s like botany–all the plants look like they are just sitting there but speed up the camera and you can see them growing, competing, striving furiously all the time, as though the world were frozen but with all the moving parts pushing against each other under incredible strain. 

Especially since Panama’s international borders are still closed to entry in mid-August and with caseloads rising there,  we’ve decided to extend our hold on all incoming volunteers scheduled to join us for the remainder of the year.  While it is possible that Panama may open borders and volunteers and staff could potentially travel to Panama, we feel that there cannot be an overabundance of caution and it is  important to both protect our communities as  well as our volunteers traveling internationally. Still, base feels pretty empty with our few staff rattling around the ol’ place like a few peas in a big bucket…we miss having our volunteers and look very forward to seeing all those faces from all over the world coming together to give their time and energy and vacation to once again climb into our 60’ hollowed out log canoe and drive through rain and rough seas and jungle rivers and continue providing care with our team. 

Everything will be ok in the end–if it’s not ok, it just means it’s not yet the end. Things are definitely not ok, and we are definitely not at the end yet, but things will be ok and this will end.  A very promising vaccine is starting phase 3 trials.  A couple of revolutionary monoclonal antibody therapies are being rolled out.  ICU death rates from COVID have dropped from above 60%  to below 40%.  The world will keep turning, we all just have to remember that it will and keep holding on.  

A bad storm at sea ALWAYS feels like it will never end…and then it does.  The storm takes all your attention in the moment because you are fighting to save your ship and shipmates.  There’s no time to speculate on the next 5 minutes; your concern is the wave in front of you and the fact that after you navigate that wave, another will be along very shortly. And the lightning striking all around you is somewhat distracting.  You lose all track of time and it seems like that’s how it’s always been, just you and your crew and the storm, locked in an eternal struggle together as time stands still.  

And then there’s the moment where you suddenly realize the weather is getting better, not worse, and the wind seems to be dropping and each wave no longer seems like a potential game-ender.  Usually you’re far too tired to even tremble and everyone who can be spared to sleep goes to sleep wherever they are.  I once dozed off in the engine room during a prolonged struggle at sea en route from Honduras to Haiti during the cholera epidemic there, with my head resting on one of our 671 Detroit diesel running at full rpms.  We nearly lost our ship (one of the two closest calls we had) but eventually managed to limp into Jamaica, battered and damaged…we all promptly slept and then the next day got up and began working to repair our ship as fast as we could and continue our mission to Haiti.  

And that will be all of us.  One day, this will end, and we’ll begin to work to rebuild what COVID-19 took away from us all.  We’re a resilient, resourceful species when we need to be, and we need to be now. We are proud and grateful to everyone who during this has been able to look up from their own very real challenges and still reached out and made it possible for us to not abandon our post and continue providing the support we can to the communities we love and serve. 

Thank you to everyone and remember: one hand for yourself, one for the ship and we’ll all get through this together.

Let’s Give Everyone a Way to Break the Face-Touching Norm

We’ve compiled a list of places to get a head net or veil (or ways to make your own!) Check them out here

MARCH 26, 2020 – Floating Doctors, an international medical relief group, today announced the launch of an interactive public campaign calling on everyone to do one seemingly simple thing: stop touching their face.

A recent study last year on hand hygiene and the global spread of disease through air transportation found that washing your hands at the airport could curb the spread of a pandemic by up to 69 percent. Further research has found that people touch their faces more than 20 times an hour on average. About 44 percent of the time, it involves contact with the eyes, nose or mouth. 

Most of us unknowingly touch our face all the time. In normal times, this habit isn’t necessarily problematic. But as COVID-19 continues to impact communities across the U.S. and around the  world, face touching has been shown to be a method for transferring the virus.

The new and interactive campaign encourages individuals to secure, create, DIY, and wear—particularly when and if it’s absolutely necessary to be out of the home —a protective mosquito net or veil barrier to ensure mindfulness and awareness around breaking the habit. Be on the lookout for #dtyf (‘Don’t Touch Your Face’) in the days ahead.

It may sound silly, but Floating Doctors—a group that operates in coastal and tropical areas where mosquito nets are often prevalent—sees it as a chance to raise awareness, get people talking, and ultimately have an impact on our habits.

Floating Doctors Founder Dr. Ben LaBrot said,

“Look, we know it sounds strange. We acknowledge it. We’re asking people to wear a mosquito net or veil over their head if they have to go grocery shopping. But here’s what we also know. Touching your face has to stop—right now. Hopefully, those of us who aren’t working on the health care front lines or as part of an essential service are social distancing and in quarantine at this point. And if you aren’t, you need to be. We also recognize that people, to an extent, will have to go get groceries and participate carefully in essential activities.”

“So we’re calling on the public to try something out to knock out the face-touching habit. This is an experiment in reasonable action and behavior modification. But why a mosquito net or veil? Well, Floating Doctors travel by sea to provide free healthcare for people in remote coastal areas. We deal with tropical disease all the time. And we realized that by using one of the most simple tools at our disposal we can create a literal barrier of mindfulness.”

“We’re launching this campaign as soon as possible. And we encourage you to come along with us. Design your own, make it your own, and try it out—at home, at the grocery story, or even on a Zoom call with your colleagues.”

“The goal is to break the habit. Here’s an interesting way to do that.”In the coming days, Floating Doctors will officially launch and activate the ‘Don’t Touch Your Face’ campaign to reach the widest population set possible to remind them of the importance of not performing this common behavior.

Media Contacts

Bill Harrison: [email protected]

Matt Pennacchio: [email protected] 

…of our mission, that is!

Rest assured, we’re washing hands, surfaces, and just about everything else. 😉

With the need to put a hold on all volunteers at least through April, our operations are scaled back dramatically, but we are still committed to ensuring quality care for the people in our region and all over the world.  Whether it is through delivery of medications to our chronic patients, responding to emergency calls, partnering with the Ministry of Health, or radio announcements highlighting necessary precautions during this time, we are still here bringing care to vulnerable communities.

Making sure we don’t abandon our patients while keeping our crew safe is our number one priority right now.  We have always prided ourselves on the ability to keep our expenses to a minimum. The majority of our operations are supported by volunteer contributions, including important medications for patients with hypertension, epilepsy and diabetes, as well as contraceptive medication and maintenance of our equipment to monitor pregnancies. With no volunteers at the moment, and the reduction in volunteer contributions due to uncertainty for summer and fall trips, we need the support of our individual donors now more than ever.

We’re tightening our belts and have reduced our operating and program expenses by more than half; Many staff members are diverting their pay (which was never covered by volunteer contributions) in order to keep our program afloat.  While we could close up shop completely and wait for this to pass, we feel it simply isn’t an option to abandon our posts, just as the healthcare workers where you are haven’t abandoned theirs.  

You, our supporters, helped us provide care in Haiti following the 2010 earthquake and then again during the cholera outbreak.  You enabled us to build our programs in Panama to reach thousands of people over great distances. Today, we are coming to you to keep us operational during this pandemic. Even better, please consider becoming a recurring donor, at any level, to help ensure we have predictable revenue throughout the year to provide care even when volunteers are unable to join us.

As with all crises, this too shall pass.  We will come out of this and, as long as we work together, we will emerge stronger than ever.  Until that time, we thank you for your support and being one of the (washed) hands keeping us afloat!