Zika column: San Juan, Tallahassee share mosquito menace

San Juan has a vibe that many Tallahasseans would quickly feel. Along with tree-lined roads, colorful flowers brightening yards, green spaces, and the surrounding forest, there’s a skepticism and downright distrust of government. And both places have lots of mosquitoes.

Ask questions about the government’s attempt to stop the Zika virus and one hears echoes of Floridians complaining about the state’s environmental policy. Puerto Ricans' disdain for their central government is such that they are willing to risk catastrophic birth defects than take the government at its word.

Across the Avenida Munoz Rivera from the central government’s capitol building is a statue. A larger than life stone depiction of John the Baptist wags a finger at the seat of government.

“He’s lecturing the politicians,” laughs Lucy Plaza, a transplanted Chicagoan.

John, the story goes, lost his head when he held the king accountable for his actions. He’s the island’s patron saint.

In some ways, Puerto Rico resembles a failed state with a $700 million budget deficit and debt payments it can’t meet. It is also Zika central for the United States. Babies exposed to the virus can be born with microcephaly, visible as small heads that prevent the brain from developing and lead to an inability to learn and function.

The cash-strapped government is hampered confronting the threat. Traveling across the island during a four-day excursion, one hears a constant theme from folks in San Juan, an impoverished community an hour to the east, a mountain town an hour to the south, and among the patrons of coffee shops near the University of Puerto Rico.

If the government can’t balance a $9 billion budget, people ask, how can it be trusted to kill mosquitoes without killing other animals, plants, and people? Like John, they believe their government has behaved badly. They're not shy about pointing that out to politicians, bystanders or anybody who asks.

This isn’t good for our way of life, self-government, they insist.

When I suggested to a San Juan journalist that all capital cities are similar. She disagreed. The residents’ up-close look at politicians distorts their opinions of elected officials' honesty and competency she believes.

The skepticism extends to all “expert” opinion.

“Everything in the medical world is about money,” said one expectant mom when asked about the Zika threat.

“They should have proof before transforming everything into chaos,” said another expectant mom through a translator.

Puerto Rico counts 10,690 Zika infections. Florida officials have tracked Zika’s march across the Americas since January.

Nearly two weeks ago, the state confirmed 13 mosquito-transmitted cases and fumigated a six-block area of Miami-Dade County with the insecticide Naled. Around the same time, the Centers for Disease Control sent Naled to Puerto Rico, but protesters prevented the central government from accepting the shipment.

Naled is toxic to bees, birds, and fish. It is not used in flea collars because it is a risk to children. The protesters’ fears echoed arguments made by north Florida activists in support of stronger environmental regulations.

“We want to maintain what is Puerto Rico; especially the animals, the birds and all that would have been destroyed to go after an insect,” said Plaza. “We want to protect it for our children and their grandchildren. We want to preserve an island that is full of beauty.”

She’s sitting on a bench next to the statue of John. Her outfit is a visible rebuke to everything the government says is needed to prevent the spread of Zika. She’s wearing shorts and a tank top.

Plaza and the expectant mothers are placing a big bet. They think the odds are the government is exploiting fears of the Zika virus to get federal money to keep itself afloat.

If they bet wrong, though, come November a bevy of women infected during their first trimester will begin delivering babies with birth defects, including blindness, deafness and developmental problems that may not be visible for three years.

On the plane ride out of San Juan, I thought about Floridians' distrust of state government. How activists say lawmakers betrayed voters who supported the land-buying Amendment One. An overwhelming majority of voters tell pollsters they support Medicaid expansion, medicinal marijuana and more money for and less testing in public schools. They're still waiting in vain for public opinion and public policy to align.

Zika arrived in San Juan a couple of months before Florida reported its first travel-related infection.  And an infection of distrust and anger has been incubating in San Juan's body politics longer than it has here. Florida chose a different path for dealing with Zika. Time will tell if it is the correct one. I’m just hoping we find a better prescription for what ails us politically.

Follow James Call on Twitter: @CallTallahassee.