A \r\nman digs a hole with a shovel. Three others observe squatting while their \r\ncompanion disappears as the pit gets deeper and a mountain of dirt grows \r\noutside. The sun, implacable since a few hours ago, is saying goodbye. A warm \r\nbreeze touches the bodies and moves the red sheet of zinc they have placed to \r\ncover the hole. \"Is this for the one who died of malaria?\" asks Argenis. \"Yes, \r\nthey will bring him in a while. They are holding the wake at his home,\" answers \r\none of the gravediggers. \"He knew he had malaria and started drinking spirits,\" \r\nArgenis whispers on the back of his motorcycle, just before leaving. It is five \r\nin the afternoon on November 27, 2016, in the cemetery of San Fernando de \r\nAtabapo, Amazonas state.<\/p>\n\n\r\n\n
This \r\nis a recurrent scene since the end of last year because for eight years there \r\nhas been a resurgence of malaria in that jungle south area of Venezuela. Samuel \r\nIribertegui, a Salesian priest present in the area since 1974 and with 22 years \r\nof residence in San Fernando de Atabapo, knows it. In an area of ??feverish \r\nmining activity, the presence of the disease is common, characterized by high \r\nfevers and anemia due to the bite of the anopheles mosquito. Father Iribertegui \r\n-medium build, tall and white complexion- says that there is no record of cases \r\ndiagnosed in the communities along the river, but based on a register kept by \r\nthe educational institution where he serves, he guesses that the figure has \r\nincreased. \"We had 110 cases of malaria in late November,\" he \r\nsays.<\/p>\n\n\r\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/armando.info\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/12\/12022017-1.jpg\")
<\/div><\/div>![\"\"](\"https:\/\/armando.info\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/12\/12022017-2.jpg\")
<\/div><\/div>![\"\"](\"https:\/\/armando.info\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/12\/12022017-3.jpg\")
<\/div><\/div>![\"\"](\"https:\/\/armando.info\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/12\/12022017-4.jpg\")
<\/div><\/div>