My Central American vacation is rapidly approaching, and I’m giddy with anticipation and light-headed from attempting to complete the many long-put-off tasks on my pre-departure checklist. The other day I spent an hour at the travel clinic getting vaccines and chatting with their awesome nurse, who seemed almost as obsessed with creepy microorganism as I am. Some of the pathogens we discussed were familiar favorites, others complete surprises. And germs aren’t the only things to worry about. Belize offers up a glorious buffet of perils for those prone to worrying (btw, avoid buffets, especially if you haven’t been vaccinated for hepatitis A). You might be wondering why such a polyphobic person would elect to vacation in the tropics in the first place. Well, like many a hapless traveler, I was lured by pretty pictures. The flora, the fauna. Belize’s biodiversity is hard to resist. Let’s have a look at some…
|Image: Andrew Coyle|
Large, carnivorous biodiversity
Jaguars are the largest wild cats in the Americas. Males can reach upwards of 300 lbs. They are stalk and ambush predators that can hunt day or night, sometimes going so far as to climb trees to get a jump on their prey. Also good swimmers, they can even kill things in the water – big things, like caimans. A jaguar’s bite is strong enough to pierce skulls and break turtle shells. They’re such impressive killing machines, that someone named a luxury car after them. Not to mention a Macintosh operating system.
|ROAR!!! Image: digiclad|
Troubleshooting: While Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary (the third stop on our itinerary) is touted as a “jaguar reserve” it’s not exactly overrun with the majestic cats. Seeing a jaguar in the wild is an uncommon event, and attacks on humans seldom occur. Being eaten by a jaguar is a rare privilege bestowed on precious few lucky tourists.
Like many warm, rainforesty places, Belize has its share of snakes, some of which are capable of injecting lethal venom with their fangs. I could sit here and enumerate the various species of scary, slithering reptiles found in the region, but it would just upset us both. For me, perhaps the most disconcerting piece of information is that, once one leaves the herpetologically well-organized U.S., coral snakes sometimes fail to adhere to the rhyming rule of “Red on yellow, kills a fellow. Red on black, friend of Jack.” Head south, and everything you thought you knew about snakes is wrong. Even those with the should-be-harmless, red-touching-black striped pattern can kill you. Best to revise the pneumonic to, “Red, yellow, black in whatever configuration… you’re screwed”.
Troubleshooting: Coral snakes aren’t especially aggressive, so if they see you first, they’ll run for the hills. They’ve also got teeny little fangs. Leather boots are usually sufficient to thwart any defensive attacks that might be provoked by flailing and screaming instead of backing away slowly. I wish I could say the same about the fer-de-lance, a snake noted for being both grumpy and jumpy.
Christ, who knew there were so many insect-vector-spread diseases out there? I’ve rambled at length about malaria here before, so I won’t spend too much time on it now. Compared to sub-Sahara Africa, Belize is a malarial lightweight. But the disease does occur, and it has the extra bonus of being primarily caused by the P. vivax parasite. While less deadly than the more famous P. falciparum variety, this parasite can hang out in a latent form in the liver and cause relapses months after the initial fever has faded. Super.
Malaria is, of course, spread by mosquitos, but there are other blood-sucking insects to watch out for. Sand flies carry parasites of the genus Leishmania, which cause cutaneous leishmaniasis. There’s a more serious form of leishmaniasis in other parts of the world, but the Belizean version just causes skin ulcers. Still, not the ideal vacation souvenir.
|Kissing bug. Image: Dr. Erwin Huebner|
But wait, there’s more… Chagas’ disease! The illness – named for its discoverer, Brazilian physician Carlos Chagas – is caused by the Trypanosoma cruzi parasite and spread by a comparatively cute vector, the triatomine bug. It’s also called the “kissing bug”. Quaint, no? If you see one, kill it.
Troubleshooting: Bug spray. Lots of bug spray. For whatever silly reason, I opted not to bother with malaria “chemoprophylaxis” (drugs that prevent the disease by rendering your body too harsh an environment for the parasite to survive). It wouldn’t protect against the other germ-toting insects anyway. I’ve wisely avoided reading anything about possible harmful effects of excessive DEET application. The information would only confuse me. I’ll worry about it when I come home.
Oh, and there’s also zoonotic hookworm. Ugh. I’d totally forgotten about this thing prior to my briefing at the travel clinic. A human-hosted form of hookworm exists too, but the one common to Belize shacks up in dogs and cats. The eggs are shed in the animals’ feces and can hatch and grow into larvae on a lovely, sandy beach where a canine or feline host did its business. The larva can enter the human body through the skin (i.e., walking barefoot on the above-mentioned lovely, sandy beach). And they don’t even need an open wound to gain entry, they just grab on and burrow their way in. What an organism! Once inside, though, they can’t mature and are stuck wandering aimlessly through the epidermis. This results in an itchy skin condition called “cutaneous larvae migrans”. It’s not remotely life-threatening, just uncomfortable and disgust inspiring. According to the CDC, the stranded larvae will die off even without medical intervention in 5-6 weeks. Five to six. Weeks. Gross.
Troubleshooting: Flip flops. Oh, the indignity.
Even with all that in mind, I’m still psyched about leaving the country. After all, if the only priority was feeling safe and comfortable, we could have just booked an all-inclusive package trip to Disneyworld. Part of the excitement of foreign travel is getting away from one’s normal routine and being exposed to the unfamiliar (and sometimes also the anxiety-provoking). And there’s something fun and novel about staying in places where “24 hour electricity” is considered an amenity worth boasting about on the website. Now if I can just remember to call my aggressively paternalistic bank and let them know I’ll be accessing ATM machines in a foreign land. I’ll go do that now.