Hello! The past two months have flown by with record speeds that I can only account for by saying my brain must be slowing down. I swear, this old age is catching up to me. Anyway, Nic and I, after finding a suitable apartment, spent three weeks in the states enjoying friends, family, and of course fine foods! We ate so much that Nic gained a chunk of his weight back, and I haven't had any totally off the wall cravings since returning. Before our vacation to America: Nothing sounded better than beef jerky dipped in canned nacho cheese. After our vacation to America: Sure, peas sound awesome. Thank goodness for good nutrition!
After returning from America, Nic and I spent a few days putting together things for our house. As it turns out, even though we had been waiting for three weeks, the electricity still had not been turned on. This wasn't too big of a deal, but we live in a second story apartment, and whenever there was no power, even the moon couldn't light those dark walls. Our volunteer support guy told us that Senelec was out of power boxes, but within a few days and many phone calls later we were able to get the electricity turned on. Quickly, however, we discovered a major sanitation issue existing under our own feet.
The apartment reeked to high hell, and we couldn't figure out why, so I took to exploring the water routes in this apartment. It appears that all of the waste water drains to one main drain in our bathroom under the showering space, and this water includes our very own raw sewage, which has been building up right in our shower drain. Talk about disgusting. Nic called our landlord who sent us a plumber, who said that apparently a release pipe failed to be installed. Huh. We have the seeming convenience of more-modern-than-not plumbing, without the complete infrastructure to support it, which means a gross smelling apartment. It isn't too big of a deal, because if we pour enough water down the drain everything flushes out of the apartment, but I was pretty surprised to discover the cesspool growing under my own shower shoes.
After settling into our house, I left for Eye Clinic in Bakel, a two-week eye clinic ran by two eye doctors imported from America, two sons, a sterile nurse, a Senegalese doctor/tech, and hordes of Peace Corps volunteers. In short, this was a medical mission to provide people with glasses, information about the condition of their eyes, cataract surgery, and a handful of other eye related plastic surgeries. The experience was fantastic. I arrived for week two and asked to be in the operating room, which meant I got to give people shots of steroids in the eye socket. In addition, I have seen more eyes operated on than I ever thought I would ever see. The clinic was pretty chaotic at times, and we had to call in back up to prevent a riot from happening, as the doctors were unable to see everyone that wanted to be seen. Imagine: Doing your thing in the operating room, cleaning eyes and passing supplies, and then leaving the room and almost walking into a giant man in uniform with a huge rifle in your face. Oops! Keeping the peace is terrifying.
The desperation of some of the patients combined with the knowledge holes in the hospital demonstrated to me how great the need for better medical training is. The doctors were attempting to train the Senegalese tech in a technique of cataract surgery, but it was clear that the tech will need much more training and follow up than what could be provided in two weeks. Unfortunately, our capacity to provide such intense, highly specific, and technical training is severely limited. We need more professionals on our side that are capable of doing this training. Eye doctors, come to Senegal please, and teach our doctors!
Also, we need some dentists to come out too. Dental mission anyone? My heart breaks at the number of rotten teeth I see even in the youngest of kids. And sugar consumption is through the roof! I used to think I had a sweet tooth until I came to Senegal. The amount of sugar that goes into everything is unbelievable! A single tiny teapot will have 15 sugar cubes! We need someone to fill teeth, do cleanings, pull rotten ones, and give out lots and lots of tooth brushes- AND teach people why they are important. I'll tell you what- you come down and pull the bad teeth, and I'll teach folks why brushing your teeth is important. Deal?
So now I am back in Tamba, home sweet home, and have started to follow up with my work leads. Or I guess they are following up on me. I was literally chased down the road by an English teacher yesterday, who turned out to be a cool guy that wants me to work with his English clubs once school starts for the spring semester in early January. Senegalese poetry slam, anyone? I also went to la Lumier, an NGO that works with disadvantaged populations, but much to my dismay the people I was supposed to meet with were not there. One of them should be returning today or tomorrow, so I will be checking back. I have also been working on registration forms for the Marathon for Girls' Education in Tamba, and once our final route and dates are set, I will be going to schools in the area and advertising. We want runners and we want as many students as possible running to support the education of girls in their area! In addition, there is a nurse that works with Talibe that is interested in working with a Peace Corps volunteer. I plan on following up with her this week. I was given her contact information by a fellow PCV, and I am incredibly grateful. This nurse seems to do exactly the type of health outreach that I am interested in. Things are coming together slowly slowly. Nic and I really are back at the integration phase of our service. Today's big victory was being recognized and called on by name by one of my neighbors.
Oh yeah! And we adopted a kitten from the trash! It's not uncommon for unwanted animals to be dropped in trash areas and dumps, unfortunately, This means that PCVs can often find friends among the garbage. This is the 3rd trash kitten I've heard of adopted by PCVs just in the past few months. They make great pets, once they figure out that you aren't going to hit them with rocks. Her name is Poullundu, a mixture between poubelle (trash can in French) and ullundu (cat in Pulaar). She is tiny, cute, and black and white. When we found her she was filthy, oily, dirty, and exhausted. After shampooing, feeding, toweling off, and several days of TLC, she is a happy energetic kitten. She has also taken to Nic very well. This morning I woke up to find the kitten literally asleep on his head. Aww.
That's all for now. Hope everyone is well!
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
The big move!
Yesterday, we finally did it. We made the big move from the north to our new home in Tambacounda!!! I'm so happy words cannot even begin to explain it. Yesterday we were really worn out because we were in a car for 11ish hours, but today has been wonderful. We woke up this morning and went to the main road for an awesome egg sandwich from a guy named Osman. After this, we came back and spent some time pulling all of the thorns out of our bike tires. Oh, thorns...souvenirs from the north. After this, we went on a wild goose chase for new inner tubes, but all of the stores nearby are sold out. Luckily, the guard here at the Tamba house is an awesome guy who is going to pick us up some new inner tubes from a bike place far away from here, and we will be in business. The main parts of the town are totally bike-able, including an awesome burger place that has been written up in the Lonely Planet, a fantastic warthog restaurant that we ate at today and enjoyed thoroughly, and a giant market with the biggest cucumbers and watermelons I've seen since being in Arkansas. Life is so good! Fruits and vegetables are cheaper here, too. In Ourosogie for a small cucumber I would pay 500-600 cfa...here, a large cucumber is only 200 cfa. WOW! Thank you, moderately warm climate, for making vegetable production so much easier for all of the farmers in the area.
In addition, we met with our local volunteer support person, who is an awesome guy that spent some time in the United States and as a consequence has a very American sense of humor, which I can appreciate in a Peace Corps staff member. He took us to some of our potential work sites, including an NGO that works with runaways and Koranic students, the health post, and the Yaajeende office (where Nic will primarily be working if things line up). I am going to go on Monday to the NGO that works with runaways and Koranic students and speak with them specifically about their needs and potential projects. The volunteer support guy told me that he will give them a call and let them know that there is a Peace Corps volunteer that wishes to work for their organization. I am so excited. The work available to me in this region is plentiful and seems to be rewarding stuff. There is also an orphanage here I could potentially work at, and maybe two but the volunteers in the area are unsure about one of them. I am going to go myself and check out the situation. One of the benefits of being relocated is that I can pretty much choose my own work, but this comes with the difficulty of having to find my own counterparts and make my own work connections. I am optimistic, though. It's a good opportunity to test my language!
We are going to be in the regional house for at least one more week while we are waiting for our house to be ready for us to move in, so we will have the internet for a while. Be in touch!
In addition, we met with our local volunteer support person, who is an awesome guy that spent some time in the United States and as a consequence has a very American sense of humor, which I can appreciate in a Peace Corps staff member. He took us to some of our potential work sites, including an NGO that works with runaways and Koranic students, the health post, and the Yaajeende office (where Nic will primarily be working if things line up). I am going to go on Monday to the NGO that works with runaways and Koranic students and speak with them specifically about their needs and potential projects. The volunteer support guy told me that he will give them a call and let them know that there is a Peace Corps volunteer that wishes to work for their organization. I am so excited. The work available to me in this region is plentiful and seems to be rewarding stuff. There is also an orphanage here I could potentially work at, and maybe two but the volunteers in the area are unsure about one of them. I am going to go myself and check out the situation. One of the benefits of being relocated is that I can pretty much choose my own work, but this comes with the difficulty of having to find my own counterparts and make my own work connections. I am optimistic, though. It's a good opportunity to test my language!
We are going to be in the regional house for at least one more week while we are waiting for our house to be ready for us to move in, so we will have the internet for a while. Be in touch!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
A book worth reading?
If anyone is interested in reading about malaria in the United States, this book seems like an interesting read Here it is!: . I've also done a *minimal* amount of research on Malaria in the States today, and apparently 1,200 cases have been diagnosed, mainly imported cases, but there are a handful of non-imported cases that were the result of an second-hand imported case...i.e. thanks to those jerk-face mosquitoes, malaria was spread from someone who had been traveling to someone who had not been traveling.
Huh.
Thoughts on malaria in the United States? I know it used to be an issue a long while ago in the good ol' US of A, and there are some online articles that suggest we may be poised for a resurgence of malaria due to malaria being spread from imported cases as well as the increased resistance that mosquitoes have to insecticides, as well as increased resistance of malaria to malaria treatments.
Huh.
Thoughts on malaria in the United States? I know it used to be an issue a long while ago in the good ol' US of A, and there are some online articles that suggest we may be poised for a resurgence of malaria due to malaria being spread from imported cases as well as the increased resistance that mosquitoes have to insecticides, as well as increased resistance of malaria to malaria treatments.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Transition Phase, part I
Hello! Counsins, I greet you. Nic and I are currently in the Ndioum house waiting to hear about our new house in Tamba proper. We went by Agnam and picked up all of our stuff, and it was really bittersweet. It feels great to know that the troubles we had in our site are behind us, and that we have been given an opportunity to essentially start over but with better language skills. I can't help but really hate the feeling of not belonging anywhere in particular for the time being. We spent a week in Ourosogie and I have no idea how long we will be here floating with all of our stuff packed, but I hope it's not too long because I want to get going with work pt. II for real this time. Tamba is decently far away from here, and it's hard to have any influence or say over what's going on down there and we haven't a clue at this point where we will fit into the work plans of the region. It's totally possible that we might not fit into the work plans of the region at all, especially if Nic gets a job with Yaajeende and I end up getting placed directly into an NGO, a possibility, although I feel like it is more likely that I will be doing HIV/AIDS work with local schools (thanks, Future Builders, for preparing me for this...I feel fully confident in my ability to do HIV/AIDS outreach and comfortable with my knowledge- my only stumbling block with respect to HIV/AIDS outreach is language). But who am I kidding?
I live in an "inchallah" world. Inchallah roughly means "if God wills it." It's typically thrown in at the end of any discussion of any sort of plans, as explanation for changes in plans or a reason for the unpredictable nature of life. Also, people say it whenever you make a plan with them and they do not really want to do it, but that's another story. The will of God here is deeply ingrained in everyday life, and one of the cultural issues we talked about during training when we first arrived was how to work within a context where we are at the same time expected to induce behavior change in our local friends and neighbors while they themselves believe that their lives are dictated by the will of God alone. If a child is sick, it's the will of God. If a meeting falls through, it's the will of God. In a way, it makes a lot of sense. Plans are constantly changing; I have never had so many plans fall through in my life as I have had here. Life is constantly changing. Death and illness are unpredictable. Usually the rainy season is reliable, but this year the shortage of rain fall has endangered the crops of people that do not live on the river. Entire stores and markets vanish from one day to the next as merchants travel to the next village, hoping to make a few extra cfa. It's difficult to rely on anything except for the cycles of the moon. There are days when I want to talk to the ICP at the health post and I arrive only to discover it's on strike. Sometimes I want to go to the market to buy canned foods only to discover that the canned food seller has decided to travel on. The lady that sold tuna sandwiches vanished one day. The power is constantly off and on, with little regularity. The family that I lived with put all of their buckets outside every time it rained out of hopes to collect as much water as they could, uncertain of when the next rain storm will come and provide some relief for our sandy dry town. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Sandstorms? Kittens? New babies? A car?
All of this to say that all of our potential plans are going to happen, inchallah. We may move soon. We may move later. We may get the jobs we want. We may get jobs we had no idea even existed.
"Inchallah" actually quite a useful phrase. Instead of having to skirt around my plans if they aren't certain (and they never are these days), I can just state what I wish to be the truth and follow it with inchallah.
Please review the following examples:
The American Way: Well, I think that there might be a possibility that I could come back to the states and possibly enroll in school to study something medically related.
The Senegalese Way: I am going back to the states to be a doctor, inchallah.
The American Way: If I can get together the money, I might go on Amazon and try to find a camera to buy if there are any good deals.
The Senegalese Way: I'm buying a camera, inchallah.
I feel like once my service is over I can see myself using inchallah until my brain figures out that I'm no longer in an area where people get what I am saying. It feels good to state what you wish the truth to be as truth even if you aren't certain about it.
On a positive note, I saw this totally amazing and crazy looking bird the day before yesterday.
I live in an "inchallah" world. Inchallah roughly means "if God wills it." It's typically thrown in at the end of any discussion of any sort of plans, as explanation for changes in plans or a reason for the unpredictable nature of life. Also, people say it whenever you make a plan with them and they do not really want to do it, but that's another story. The will of God here is deeply ingrained in everyday life, and one of the cultural issues we talked about during training when we first arrived was how to work within a context where we are at the same time expected to induce behavior change in our local friends and neighbors while they themselves believe that their lives are dictated by the will of God alone. If a child is sick, it's the will of God. If a meeting falls through, it's the will of God. In a way, it makes a lot of sense. Plans are constantly changing; I have never had so many plans fall through in my life as I have had here. Life is constantly changing. Death and illness are unpredictable. Usually the rainy season is reliable, but this year the shortage of rain fall has endangered the crops of people that do not live on the river. Entire stores and markets vanish from one day to the next as merchants travel to the next village, hoping to make a few extra cfa. It's difficult to rely on anything except for the cycles of the moon. There are days when I want to talk to the ICP at the health post and I arrive only to discover it's on strike. Sometimes I want to go to the market to buy canned foods only to discover that the canned food seller has decided to travel on. The lady that sold tuna sandwiches vanished one day. The power is constantly off and on, with little regularity. The family that I lived with put all of their buckets outside every time it rained out of hopes to collect as much water as they could, uncertain of when the next rain storm will come and provide some relief for our sandy dry town. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Sandstorms? Kittens? New babies? A car?
All of this to say that all of our potential plans are going to happen, inchallah. We may move soon. We may move later. We may get the jobs we want. We may get jobs we had no idea even existed.
"Inchallah" actually quite a useful phrase. Instead of having to skirt around my plans if they aren't certain (and they never are these days), I can just state what I wish to be the truth and follow it with inchallah.
Please review the following examples:
The American Way: Well, I think that there might be a possibility that I could come back to the states and possibly enroll in school to study something medically related.
The Senegalese Way: I am going back to the states to be a doctor, inchallah.
The American Way: If I can get together the money, I might go on Amazon and try to find a camera to buy if there are any good deals.
The Senegalese Way: I'm buying a camera, inchallah.
I feel like once my service is over I can see myself using inchallah until my brain figures out that I'm no longer in an area where people get what I am saying. It feels good to state what you wish the truth to be as truth even if you aren't certain about it.
On a positive note, I saw this totally amazing and crazy looking bird the day before yesterday.
WOAH!
It's called a hoopoe. Thanks, wikipedia, for the awesome photo. They're totally interesting and make crazy sounds and hang out by the Ndioum house. Kingfishers are in the same family group and they are the state national bird of Israel. Who knew?
Friday, September 30, 2011
Site Change!
Nic and I have received some crazy news! Crazy bad and crazy good. First off, my camera was stolen, and may or may not come back. Myself, Nic, one of our friends, and his counterpart have been on the hunt for this and other items that have been stolen from the same place. We are trying to following the proper protocol, but in the meantime I am fresh out of photos. AND this means I lost all of the awesome photos of things being constructed! At first I was really bummed out about this, and I'm still bummed because I don't really have any money and likely will not be able to replace the camera if it doesn't come back. However, I'm feeling a little more at ease about it and have accepted that we were warned about petty thievery, and although it really sucks that it's happened to me twice (ipod four months ago, camera a few days ago), all I can do is try to protect my things better in the future. This particular situation is more difficult because the maid has been taking things, meaning that the normal modes of protection (keeping things in your front pockets, zip your purse or don't carry one, etc) simply do not apply, as this crafty maid stole not only my camera, but also my camera cord, from our bedroom while Nic and I were not in our room. Yikes!
The whole thing has left me feeling a little strange about my role in Senegal. I think it happens from time to time that teenagers (and the maid is a teenage dude) like to rebel, and sometimes they rebel in a way that helps them feel like they have "gotten back at the man," aka their boss or a faceless corporation. Some Arkansans steal from Wal-Mart. Some steal from Dillard's. Some rip off pens and notebooks from the office they are stuck working at, or sneak food to their friends out of the drive through windows at the McDonald's when the manager has scheduled them for crappy hours. It's a way to show the man that they've got some control. The man has money/stuff/whatever, and the man is oppressive, and they can at least feel like they're getting theirs.
In this situation, us Peace Corps volunteers are "the man." We are perceived as rich "haves," and stealing our stuff while cleaning our house isn't hurting us because "we've got plenty." But we aren't a corporation. We're real people with real issues, real needs, and sometimes come from real poverty in America, too. I guess what I'm trying to say is I get the attitude. I just don't agree with it, and I REALLY don't like the thought that I am "the man," but in a way I am- I've got a computer, the government pays my meager but none the less consistent salary, and if I have an emergency I can go to the hospital or the offices in Dakar and not have to think twice about it. Does that make it ok to steal my stuff? Well, no, but do I acknowledge that I may have some social privilege? Yes. How does this make me feel about my role in society as it stands? A little odd. I'm here to help, after all, and not oppress anyone.
Ok, so speaking of emergencies (don't worry, I'm happy and healthy!), Nic and I's site was closed yesterday due to some ongoing problems with water access, housing, and unrealistic expectations. As it turns out Peace Corps volunteers cannot build water towers. We are going to be moving to a new site here in a few weeks- on the other side of the country. We are going to be getting a new house, new P.O. box, and be lined up with new NGOs and counterparts. We will still be in a Pulaar and French speaking area. I will keep everyone updated on the timeline and details. As it stands, Monday or Tuesday, maybe even Wednesday, we will be moving all of our stuff out of Agnam and be placed in one of the regional houses until our real new house is lined up.
And then we're heading South.
Actually, I couldn't be happier about it. It's the break Nic and I have been waiting for. I'm not the type to whine about issues at our site on a public blog, but things have been going wrong for a while, and I am so happy that Peace Corps is taking these issues seriously and is taking the proper course of action. Anybody interested in the details can call me. I am in the end really happy with the solution that Peace Corps has provided for our issues at site. Even with the stolen camera and temporary life in the regional house, I feel very lucky.
The whole thing has left me feeling a little strange about my role in Senegal. I think it happens from time to time that teenagers (and the maid is a teenage dude) like to rebel, and sometimes they rebel in a way that helps them feel like they have "gotten back at the man," aka their boss or a faceless corporation. Some Arkansans steal from Wal-Mart. Some steal from Dillard's. Some rip off pens and notebooks from the office they are stuck working at, or sneak food to their friends out of the drive through windows at the McDonald's when the manager has scheduled them for crappy hours. It's a way to show the man that they've got some control. The man has money/stuff/whatever, and the man is oppressive, and they can at least feel like they're getting theirs.
In this situation, us Peace Corps volunteers are "the man." We are perceived as rich "haves," and stealing our stuff while cleaning our house isn't hurting us because "we've got plenty." But we aren't a corporation. We're real people with real issues, real needs, and sometimes come from real poverty in America, too. I guess what I'm trying to say is I get the attitude. I just don't agree with it, and I REALLY don't like the thought that I am "the man," but in a way I am- I've got a computer, the government pays my meager but none the less consistent salary, and if I have an emergency I can go to the hospital or the offices in Dakar and not have to think twice about it. Does that make it ok to steal my stuff? Well, no, but do I acknowledge that I may have some social privilege? Yes. How does this make me feel about my role in society as it stands? A little odd. I'm here to help, after all, and not oppress anyone.
Ok, so speaking of emergencies (don't worry, I'm happy and healthy!), Nic and I's site was closed yesterday due to some ongoing problems with water access, housing, and unrealistic expectations. As it turns out Peace Corps volunteers cannot build water towers. We are going to be moving to a new site here in a few weeks- on the other side of the country. We are going to be getting a new house, new P.O. box, and be lined up with new NGOs and counterparts. We will still be in a Pulaar and French speaking area. I will keep everyone updated on the timeline and details. As it stands, Monday or Tuesday, maybe even Wednesday, we will be moving all of our stuff out of Agnam and be placed in one of the regional houses until our real new house is lined up.
And then we're heading South.
Actually, I couldn't be happier about it. It's the break Nic and I have been waiting for. I'm not the type to whine about issues at our site on a public blog, but things have been going wrong for a while, and I am so happy that Peace Corps is taking these issues seriously and is taking the proper course of action. Anybody interested in the details can call me. I am in the end really happy with the solution that Peace Corps has provided for our issues at site. Even with the stolen camera and temporary life in the regional house, I feel very lucky.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Trainings, continued
Alright! Here are some more of the things we did during our two trainings with the Yaajeende program.
We helped construct a permanent "rocket stove" setup in a small concrete room used as a kitchen by the village chief's family. The stove setup has several features that make it a better alternative to the standard mud stove and open fire kitchen setup. The form of the cooking space itself helps pull smoke out of the room (respiratory illness is a big issue for women that cook regularly over open fires, as is common here), thus encouraging good lung health and smoke-free eyes. It's also good for babies and children, as the hot parts of the stove and the fire are off of the ground, which means that babies and children can't walk into them, knock the pot over, or step onto hot coals (ouch!). It conserves wood by insulating the fire area and concentrating the heat, a big money saver in a location where many families have to buy their wood from markets for daily cooking. And then there is my favorite element: It's a back saver! You can cook standing upright instead of bending over a hot pot and fire.
Here's my interpretation:
The brown lines up there are steel rebar. To cook, one slides wood under the rebar. The cooking pot rests on top of the rebar. The smoke release hole is about a 6 inch by 6 inch square directly behind the fire. This also helps create air circulation. The rest of the wall of the construction rises above the height of the pot, thus creating insulation between the pot and the walls. In addition, the reddish-brown areas are filled with sand then sealed with concrete for further insulation. The grey slats up there are bricks that the pot rests on that further insulate the fire. There was an expert construction guy there that was doing the technical construction, our job was mainly to transport materials to and from the site (bricks, buckets of sand, metal parts, etc) and to follow along and learn how to do this on our own. The stove itself is a concrete and brick permanent installation that will require much less maintenance than a typical mud stove. I tried to find some pictures on the internet of something similar, but instead I found this:
Can't win 'em all, I guess.
After searching a while, I finally found this version of what we built, which seems to be much shorter and lacking the food preparation space, but it helps give a better idea of what I am talking about (from http://aeglenn.blogspot.com):
It's still not exactly the same thing, but much closer than a baseball player cut out. We also learned how to construct a food storage and dish drying area that is kid proof, bird proof, and animal proof. Oftentimes animals will see metal bowls, assume there is food in them, and head for them right away to eat all of their contents. This means that animals contaminate the bowls (and their contents, if there is food in them) with all kinds of germs, dirt, manure, etc. This area is off of the ground and screened in, and there are two doors in front of it that you can lift to access the dishes and food inside. Usually, dishes are dried outdoors, and prepared food bowls are often hanging out outside while people wait to eat. Sheep, goats, cows, chickens, and sometimes birds just can't seem to resist them. We helped a team of people construct a fairly sizable one of these at the village chief's house as well. No pictures of this...couldn't find anything like it on google images or in blogs.
After we finished this training, we had a day break in Ourosogie and then attended the food security training at the Hotel Oasis here in Ourosogie. The focus of the training was essentially on understanding and introducing the concept of food security, how does the government function and what role does that have in food security, what the cornerstones of food security are, how to identify the key players in food security programs, and the identification and resolution of food security related issues, including the identification of concrete trainings, methods, techniques, and actions that could be utilized within the community of des Agnams (the C.R. of our site, Agnam Thiodaye). The information itself was typical of any food security discussion- what roles do citizens have in protecting their own food supply? What can be done to improve production? Access to potable water, etc? I was particularly proud of the concrete solutions identified during the sessions, including the use of compost in food production, instructing people on how to make dirty water potable, and increasing access to markets through microfinancing organizations and community discussion. All around great solutions. The yaajeende folks that will be implementing these solutions are stationed in their villages (one specifically being Agnam Thiodaye) for five years, meaning that at least some of these solutions are guaranteed to be brought into the community. The food security training lasted three days (Nic and I missed the first day). It was conducted entirely in French, which was great for technical vocabulary, and I feel confident that the yaajeende folk have been trained properly for the actions they are going to be taking in their communities related to food security.
Alright, I think that effectively sums up our past week. Take care all!
We helped construct a permanent "rocket stove" setup in a small concrete room used as a kitchen by the village chief's family. The stove setup has several features that make it a better alternative to the standard mud stove and open fire kitchen setup. The form of the cooking space itself helps pull smoke out of the room (respiratory illness is a big issue for women that cook regularly over open fires, as is common here), thus encouraging good lung health and smoke-free eyes. It's also good for babies and children, as the hot parts of the stove and the fire are off of the ground, which means that babies and children can't walk into them, knock the pot over, or step onto hot coals (ouch!). It conserves wood by insulating the fire area and concentrating the heat, a big money saver in a location where many families have to buy their wood from markets for daily cooking. And then there is my favorite element: It's a back saver! You can cook standing upright instead of bending over a hot pot and fire.
Here's my interpretation:
The brown lines up there are steel rebar. To cook, one slides wood under the rebar. The cooking pot rests on top of the rebar. The smoke release hole is about a 6 inch by 6 inch square directly behind the fire. This also helps create air circulation. The rest of the wall of the construction rises above the height of the pot, thus creating insulation between the pot and the walls. In addition, the reddish-brown areas are filled with sand then sealed with concrete for further insulation. The grey slats up there are bricks that the pot rests on that further insulate the fire. There was an expert construction guy there that was doing the technical construction, our job was mainly to transport materials to and from the site (bricks, buckets of sand, metal parts, etc) and to follow along and learn how to do this on our own. The stove itself is a concrete and brick permanent installation that will require much less maintenance than a typical mud stove. I tried to find some pictures on the internet of something similar, but instead I found this:
Can't win 'em all, I guess.After searching a while, I finally found this version of what we built, which seems to be much shorter and lacking the food preparation space, but it helps give a better idea of what I am talking about (from http://aeglenn.blogspot.com):
It's still not exactly the same thing, but much closer than a baseball player cut out. We also learned how to construct a food storage and dish drying area that is kid proof, bird proof, and animal proof. Oftentimes animals will see metal bowls, assume there is food in them, and head for them right away to eat all of their contents. This means that animals contaminate the bowls (and their contents, if there is food in them) with all kinds of germs, dirt, manure, etc. This area is off of the ground and screened in, and there are two doors in front of it that you can lift to access the dishes and food inside. Usually, dishes are dried outdoors, and prepared food bowls are often hanging out outside while people wait to eat. Sheep, goats, cows, chickens, and sometimes birds just can't seem to resist them. We helped a team of people construct a fairly sizable one of these at the village chief's house as well. No pictures of this...couldn't find anything like it on google images or in blogs.
After we finished this training, we had a day break in Ourosogie and then attended the food security training at the Hotel Oasis here in Ourosogie. The focus of the training was essentially on understanding and introducing the concept of food security, how does the government function and what role does that have in food security, what the cornerstones of food security are, how to identify the key players in food security programs, and the identification and resolution of food security related issues, including the identification of concrete trainings, methods, techniques, and actions that could be utilized within the community of des Agnams (the C.R. of our site, Agnam Thiodaye). The information itself was typical of any food security discussion- what roles do citizens have in protecting their own food supply? What can be done to improve production? Access to potable water, etc? I was particularly proud of the concrete solutions identified during the sessions, including the use of compost in food production, instructing people on how to make dirty water potable, and increasing access to markets through microfinancing organizations and community discussion. All around great solutions. The yaajeende folks that will be implementing these solutions are stationed in their villages (one specifically being Agnam Thiodaye) for five years, meaning that at least some of these solutions are guaranteed to be brought into the community. The food security training lasted three days (Nic and I missed the first day). It was conducted entirely in French, which was great for technical vocabulary, and I feel confident that the yaajeende folk have been trained properly for the actions they are going to be taking in their communities related to food security.
Alright, I think that effectively sums up our past week. Take care all!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Trainings upon Trainings
Hey all! The past couple of days Nic and I have been traveling around and getting trained. We are tre bien forme, as they say, and I thought I'd share some of our knowledge. Unfortunately, my camera seems to have vanished, so I've done my best to illustrate with Microsoft paint. Let's see how it worked out, shall we?
First, we went on a camping trip with Yaajeende in a village about 30k away from Agnam. The first day was pretty chill, as the actual trainers arrived late, but we did construct something known as a tippy tap, a hygienic water-saving hand washing alternative to the running water/sink combo, something I only see in larger cities or super nice restaurants. We built it outside of the bathroom at the health post (we were camping out in the grassy area by the health post). How it works is that you take a 5 liter bidon, make a small nail hole in the upper part, and tie it to a tight string attached to a large stick that sits at an angle when undisturbed. When you step on the stick, it pulls the rope tight, tilts the bidon, and lets out a nice trickle of water. No contamination is even possible as your hands never touch the handwashing device itself. Here's my interpretation:
(of course, that should say diameter up there)
And here's a much smaller but probably better interpretation that I found on google images... actually, not that much better, because they forgot the soap on a rope!
The next day we started the discussion and construction of a simple hand-dug water filtration system to help prevent the contamination of the soil. We built it at the village chief's house. An issue in our region is that people will often dump oily, greasy, bloody, and otherwise filthy water just into the streets, where kids play in it, horses drink it, and it seeps into the soil. In addition, many people have shower drains that drain directly into the street, and all of the dirty soapy oily shower water puddles in the sandy roads. By digging a filtration pit and directing waste water into the filtration pit, you a) prevent standing water in the street which in turn prevents mosquito breeding and the diseases that come with it and b) protect the soil and potentially wells/ groundwater from oily icky contamination.
Basically, you dig a large pit to the size of your liking, put large rocks on the bottom of it, and layer smaller and smaller rocks until you are layering with pebbles. Then, you attach pipes to your shower drain/waste water drain to guide the water to your filtration system. Then, you bury the pipes and protect them with a concrete encasing at the entrance of the shower/wastewater drain. Next, you build a strong wood thatching to cover the pit. Place a tarp over the entire wood thatching, then cover the whole pit, complete with tarp and wood thatching, with a few inches of dirt until it is level with the surrounding ground. I know the question you might ask: Won't the wood degrade and people will fall into the pit?! We asked our trainers about this, and they said that actually it holds pretty well but it does need to be rebuilt every 12 months.
Here's my interpretation:
And here's the proper, slightly more legit version, thanks again to google:
The concrete for the project was carried the way kings used to be carried in the olden days. A sack of concrete was put over two logs, and and four people carried the concrete by each standing upright while holding one of the four "corners" of the logs. Before my camera vanished I had this awesome video of Nic and 3 of our fellow trainees carrying the concrete and making this awesome grunting sing-song (nevermind the fact that Nic was wearing a Bob Marley turban- yes, those exist here, and yes, you actually see people with them, particularly shepherds for whatever reason), but you'll just have to settle for this:
Let's not forget about the olden days:
(That Egyptian king = concrete. Those guys carrying him = Nic et al)
We also learned how to make a permanent smoke-cutting health-enhancing stove, but, unfortunately, I am tired and will just have to spend some time writing about it tommorow or the next day. It feels really good to have contributed to concrete, practical solutions in the village of our camp site. Have a great evening, all!
First, we went on a camping trip with Yaajeende in a village about 30k away from Agnam. The first day was pretty chill, as the actual trainers arrived late, but we did construct something known as a tippy tap, a hygienic water-saving hand washing alternative to the running water/sink combo, something I only see in larger cities or super nice restaurants. We built it outside of the bathroom at the health post (we were camping out in the grassy area by the health post). How it works is that you take a 5 liter bidon, make a small nail hole in the upper part, and tie it to a tight string attached to a large stick that sits at an angle when undisturbed. When you step on the stick, it pulls the rope tight, tilts the bidon, and lets out a nice trickle of water. No contamination is even possible as your hands never touch the handwashing device itself. Here's my interpretation:
(of course, that should say diameter up there)And here's a much smaller but probably better interpretation that I found on google images... actually, not that much better, because they forgot the soap on a rope!
The next day we started the discussion and construction of a simple hand-dug water filtration system to help prevent the contamination of the soil. We built it at the village chief's house. An issue in our region is that people will often dump oily, greasy, bloody, and otherwise filthy water just into the streets, where kids play in it, horses drink it, and it seeps into the soil. In addition, many people have shower drains that drain directly into the street, and all of the dirty soapy oily shower water puddles in the sandy roads. By digging a filtration pit and directing waste water into the filtration pit, you a) prevent standing water in the street which in turn prevents mosquito breeding and the diseases that come with it and b) protect the soil and potentially wells/ groundwater from oily icky contamination.Basically, you dig a large pit to the size of your liking, put large rocks on the bottom of it, and layer smaller and smaller rocks until you are layering with pebbles. Then, you attach pipes to your shower drain/waste water drain to guide the water to your filtration system. Then, you bury the pipes and protect them with a concrete encasing at the entrance of the shower/wastewater drain. Next, you build a strong wood thatching to cover the pit. Place a tarp over the entire wood thatching, then cover the whole pit, complete with tarp and wood thatching, with a few inches of dirt until it is level with the surrounding ground. I know the question you might ask: Won't the wood degrade and people will fall into the pit?! We asked our trainers about this, and they said that actually it holds pretty well but it does need to be rebuilt every 12 months.
Here's my interpretation:
And here's the proper, slightly more legit version, thanks again to google:
The concrete for the project was carried the way kings used to be carried in the olden days. A sack of concrete was put over two logs, and and four people carried the concrete by each standing upright while holding one of the four "corners" of the logs. Before my camera vanished I had this awesome video of Nic and 3 of our fellow trainees carrying the concrete and making this awesome grunting sing-song (nevermind the fact that Nic was wearing a Bob Marley turban- yes, those exist here, and yes, you actually see people with them, particularly shepherds for whatever reason), but you'll just have to settle for this:
Let's not forget about the olden days:
(That Egyptian king = concrete. Those guys carrying him = Nic et al)We also learned how to make a permanent smoke-cutting health-enhancing stove, but, unfortunately, I am tired and will just have to spend some time writing about it tommorow or the next day. It feels really good to have contributed to concrete, practical solutions in the village of our camp site. Have a great evening, all!
Saturday, September 17, 2011
I stole your weave...
Hello all! I apologize for not blogging the past few months. I have been spending a lot of time putting together private emails and writing personal letters, and have neglected the public forum. Shame on me! Anyway, I am back with a newfound urge to blog.
Things have been very very crazy up north! Nic and I have begun working with the Yaajeende program, a program in a handful of regions in Senegal, sponsored by the US government, and with a focus on Pulaar speakers in Senegal (and Pulaar is of course our specialty!). The program has several pillars which align perfectly with our work in the Peace Corps, specifically, animal husbandry, infant and maternal health, and agriculture. The animal husbandry portion of the program is very much needed in this region, and the program itself is based on the Heifer model (see www.heifer.org for more information). In fact, USAID and Heifer are working together on this particular project. Owning animals, especially large ones like cows and lots of them, is a huge status symbol. Animals = $$$$. People often just let them roam around the area, and these large herds of sheep, goats, and cows, sometimes unattended, eat gardens, destroy grain crops, and annihilate low to the ground or young trees. One of the benefits of the Heifer model is that the donation of an animal includes education- what are sustainable ways to manage your animals? How can what is typically considered to be an animal waste be used to improve one's way of living? How can you transform something that is detrimental to the already-eroded soil and degraded environment into something that improves soil quality? The work isn't easy, but the transformation is possible. Teaching people how to properly manage those herds of cows, goats, and sheep is a necessary step in the right direction towards a healthier, greener (literally
- it's all sand out here) landscape. It doesn't matter how many gardens are planted if every fence is trampled and every little sprout eaten by a hungry herd of zebus. Education is key!
(Exhibit A: Adorable but deadly baby zebu cow. This little creature will soon grow into a crop killer worse than any cloud of locusts!)
We've also had some great, as well as difficult, interactions in our home and with our host family and friends. One of my earliest memories of arriving in site was one day when I was playing with my host sister and her friend, who is around 4 years old (parents in general aren't fully aware of their children's ages, nor their own. Oftentimes you will get an estimate of the age of a child when you ask the child or the parent, and sometimes they will give you different answers. This can be tricky!). The small children in the area have oftentimes never seen a white person before, and have no shame about pulling my hair, tugging my skin, sticking their faces on my chest and inhaling- imagine how a small child treats a new stuffed animal- and that day was no exception. The girl was pulling my hair, brushing it around with her fingers, picking it with a stick, and yelling something at me. "Mes maa yodaani! Mes maa yodaani!"
After a few seconds of processing, I realized she was yelling: "Your weave is ugly! Your weave is ugly!" (Mes being the word typically used for fake hair, wigs, or weaves). Not only did this little girl think my hair was fake, she thought it was ugly!
(Exhibit B: How small Senegalese girls perceive my appearance. Actually, my hair has been falling out recently. Really need to keep on the vitamins. )
Fast forward a few months. It's boiling hot outside and water for luxurious hair washing is hard to come by where we are, so I decide to cut off my ponytail. I have used hair in gardens and in potted plants before, so as gross as it may sound, I decided to put my ponytail in our back window to eventually put in a garden. Not too much later, I noticed it was gone from the window. I had assumed Nic had thrown it out, a very reasonable thing to do to with a dusty old ponytail. I went outside to watch the sky- it looked like a sandstorm was coming- and was approached by one of the neighborhood girls that hangs out at our house. She starts talking about my weave. She pulls at my hair, and I tell her, no, no, that's my hair, that's not a weave! And then she explains that she stole my weave. "What?" "I stole your weave! Your weave!" She makes a ponytails with her hands, and it clicks. She stole my ponytail from the window! ...and now I am so sure it is being woven into the hair of small girls all over the neighborhood...
Either way around, I have been weighing lots of babies lately! One of the best parts of it is seeing mothers giggle when their babies are being weighed, but one of the scariest parts is weighing babies that are severely underweight and feeling helpless to do anything about it. One of the babies that I weighed was 2.9 kilos, or a little over 6 pounds, and several months old. TOO. SMALL. It's heartbreaking. But the doctor, the midwives, and the pharmacist that are around do a great job of providing individual consultations for each mother and baby, and exclusive breastfeeding are mentioned for the first 6 months without even a deep breath being taken. Mothers want healthy babies, and the health staff that I work with wants healthy patients, so it works out.
I also got to experience the crazyness that is a healthpost childbirth. I was with two midwives in Agnam Goly, a neighboring village that is about 3 k, or a 45 minute walk if you're in a fancy skirt. Which I was. Anyway, after a day of evaluating the post, watching the flow of people, and finally sitting down to some tea, the midwives pulled me into the back room to watch them deliver a tiny baby girl (3 kilos, newborn and bigger than the baby I weighed at the health center. :( ). It was in some ways a great experience. I was proud of the new mother, the baby seemed healthy, and things went as well as they could. I was shocked, however, by the lack of supplies. This health post was cleaner and nicer than home delivery, but there was only one clamp for the umbilical cord, dirty old foam mattresses with no sheets or pillows for the new mother to rest on, and when a hole was broken in one of the midwife's gloves, she just tied the hole with a piece from an old pair of gloves. Supplies are very limited, the rooms are dusty and dingy, and pieces of surgical equipment that we just use once and throw away in the states are boiled or bleached and used again and again and again. I feel that these midwives are competent and did a good job with the supplies that they have. I also feel that the system is broken if well-trained health care workers have to provide care with substandard, broken, dirty, or nonexistent supplies. The people that I know are well aware of the shortcomings of the system as well. They tell me that they need new this, new that, and show off the various countries that have donated medicines or supplies (this antibiotic is from France! Germany! Belgium!), and at the same time acknowledge that there simply isn't enough money in the local system to replace what gets old and to buy what needs buying. I don't think throwing more money into the system from outside will help it, but I'm not sure what will either.
Oh yeah! And there was a wedding at the village chief's house! Good times. I will post pictures on my Facebook for interested folks.
Have a great one, everybody!
Things have been very very crazy up north! Nic and I have begun working with the Yaajeende program, a program in a handful of regions in Senegal, sponsored by the US government, and with a focus on Pulaar speakers in Senegal (and Pulaar is of course our specialty!). The program has several pillars which align perfectly with our work in the Peace Corps, specifically, animal husbandry, infant and maternal health, and agriculture. The animal husbandry portion of the program is very much needed in this region, and the program itself is based on the Heifer model (see www.heifer.org for more information). In fact, USAID and Heifer are working together on this particular project. Owning animals, especially large ones like cows and lots of them, is a huge status symbol. Animals = $$$$. People often just let them roam around the area, and these large herds of sheep, goats, and cows, sometimes unattended, eat gardens, destroy grain crops, and annihilate low to the ground or young trees. One of the benefits of the Heifer model is that the donation of an animal includes education- what are sustainable ways to manage your animals? How can what is typically considered to be an animal waste be used to improve one's way of living? How can you transform something that is detrimental to the already-eroded soil and degraded environment into something that improves soil quality? The work isn't easy, but the transformation is possible. Teaching people how to properly manage those herds of cows, goats, and sheep is a necessary step in the right direction towards a healthier, greener (literally
- it's all sand out here) landscape. It doesn't matter how many gardens are planted if every fence is trampled and every little sprout eaten by a hungry herd of zebus. Education is key!
(Exhibit A: Adorable but deadly baby zebu cow. This little creature will soon grow into a crop killer worse than any cloud of locusts!)
We've also had some great, as well as difficult, interactions in our home and with our host family and friends. One of my earliest memories of arriving in site was one day when I was playing with my host sister and her friend, who is around 4 years old (parents in general aren't fully aware of their children's ages, nor their own. Oftentimes you will get an estimate of the age of a child when you ask the child or the parent, and sometimes they will give you different answers. This can be tricky!). The small children in the area have oftentimes never seen a white person before, and have no shame about pulling my hair, tugging my skin, sticking their faces on my chest and inhaling- imagine how a small child treats a new stuffed animal- and that day was no exception. The girl was pulling my hair, brushing it around with her fingers, picking it with a stick, and yelling something at me. "Mes maa yodaani! Mes maa yodaani!"
After a few seconds of processing, I realized she was yelling: "Your weave is ugly! Your weave is ugly!" (Mes being the word typically used for fake hair, wigs, or weaves). Not only did this little girl think my hair was fake, she thought it was ugly!
(Exhibit B: How small Senegalese girls perceive my appearance. Actually, my hair has been falling out recently. Really need to keep on the vitamins. )Fast forward a few months. It's boiling hot outside and water for luxurious hair washing is hard to come by where we are, so I decide to cut off my ponytail. I have used hair in gardens and in potted plants before, so as gross as it may sound, I decided to put my ponytail in our back window to eventually put in a garden. Not too much later, I noticed it was gone from the window. I had assumed Nic had thrown it out, a very reasonable thing to do to with a dusty old ponytail. I went outside to watch the sky- it looked like a sandstorm was coming- and was approached by one of the neighborhood girls that hangs out at our house. She starts talking about my weave. She pulls at my hair, and I tell her, no, no, that's my hair, that's not a weave! And then she explains that she stole my weave. "What?" "I stole your weave! Your weave!" She makes a ponytails with her hands, and it clicks. She stole my ponytail from the window! ...and now I am so sure it is being woven into the hair of small girls all over the neighborhood...
Either way around, I have been weighing lots of babies lately! One of the best parts of it is seeing mothers giggle when their babies are being weighed, but one of the scariest parts is weighing babies that are severely underweight and feeling helpless to do anything about it. One of the babies that I weighed was 2.9 kilos, or a little over 6 pounds, and several months old. TOO. SMALL. It's heartbreaking. But the doctor, the midwives, and the pharmacist that are around do a great job of providing individual consultations for each mother and baby, and exclusive breastfeeding are mentioned for the first 6 months without even a deep breath being taken. Mothers want healthy babies, and the health staff that I work with wants healthy patients, so it works out.
I also got to experience the crazyness that is a healthpost childbirth. I was with two midwives in Agnam Goly, a neighboring village that is about 3 k, or a 45 minute walk if you're in a fancy skirt. Which I was. Anyway, after a day of evaluating the post, watching the flow of people, and finally sitting down to some tea, the midwives pulled me into the back room to watch them deliver a tiny baby girl (3 kilos, newborn and bigger than the baby I weighed at the health center. :( ). It was in some ways a great experience. I was proud of the new mother, the baby seemed healthy, and things went as well as they could. I was shocked, however, by the lack of supplies. This health post was cleaner and nicer than home delivery, but there was only one clamp for the umbilical cord, dirty old foam mattresses with no sheets or pillows for the new mother to rest on, and when a hole was broken in one of the midwife's gloves, she just tied the hole with a piece from an old pair of gloves. Supplies are very limited, the rooms are dusty and dingy, and pieces of surgical equipment that we just use once and throw away in the states are boiled or bleached and used again and again and again. I feel that these midwives are competent and did a good job with the supplies that they have. I also feel that the system is broken if well-trained health care workers have to provide care with substandard, broken, dirty, or nonexistent supplies. The people that I know are well aware of the shortcomings of the system as well. They tell me that they need new this, new that, and show off the various countries that have donated medicines or supplies (this antibiotic is from France! Germany! Belgium!), and at the same time acknowledge that there simply isn't enough money in the local system to replace what gets old and to buy what needs buying. I don't think throwing more money into the system from outside will help it, but I'm not sure what will either.
Oh yeah! And there was a wedding at the village chief's house! Good times. I will post pictures on my Facebook for interested folks.
Have a great one, everybody!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Long lost update
Hello! Nic and I have been installed in our permanent site of Agnam Thiodaye and life is good! We just got our own house a few days ago (unfortunately, they did not have a house for us when we arrived,so we were living at the health post with my counterpart). It was definitely interesting seeing people come and go at the health post, and it's interesting how different the concepts of privacy and medicine are. People would just show up at all hours of the day and night and ask for the doctor, and would sit and wait for him, even if he wasn't even in town. Either way around, our new house is nice, has two rooms and a small porch area. We've started to lay the foundations for our work and have been working on our language.
Nic and I just finished our language seminar in Kassak Nord, a beautiful green area on the opposite side of the country from where we live, the dry and brown Agnam Thiodaye which desperately needs a water tower. We spent the week in class learning all sorts of new vocabulary, and correcting the vocabulary that we thought we did know. There are many words here which sound very very close to each other but have different meanings that it's been pretty difficult adapting my ear to, but it's coming. For example: daanaade is to sleep, but dannaade is to travel. Luubde is to smell bad, but lubde is to lend. To the untrained ear (i.e. mine), they sound identical. The doubling of vowels doesn't change the sound, it just means you say the sound a little bit longer. One word that really caught me up was hebde, which means (drum roll please) to get.
Now, imagine this: a young foreigner comes into your town, school, and health post and proclaims proudly that she wants to help the people in your community get malaria. Wait, what? Oh, that's right... hAbde is to prevent! I told my entire town, with full confidence, that I will help them get malaria. I imagine by now they've set up the road block and are all on the look out for the foreigner who is going to come in and cut holes in their mosquito nets and leave vats of open water sitting around, not to mention hiding all of the malaria medication and burn down all the NEEM trees. Oi, vey. The pitfalls of language learning!
Right now we are in San Louis enjoying a luxurious day off after spending a very long time in our village. In Agnam, I've started attending elementary school for the purpose of learning French and mastering the French number system (one year of French was NOT enough, but I've got plenty of time to study and Nic is very helpful and patient with me). It's been an awesome time because the school was not assigned a volunteer, so there wasn't any pressure to work, and now every elementary school kid in town knows who I am. I will walk down the road and there is a chorus of Aisata Kane! Aisata Kane! (my new name). Because the school was so generous with their time and welcomed me to their school, I talked to the director and set it up so that when the fall comes I will be finding a work partner and working at the school. I wrote up an action plan and talked it over with the director, who was very receptive to gardening, murals, and clubs, and whenever we get back to site on Monday I will be going to talk to him again to finalize some details. I explained that right now I need to really focus on language learning (I think that part was probably obvious once he heard my French and Pulaar) but that when school starts if the staff is willing to work with me I'd be very willing to help start student groups, clubs, and teach about moringa, gardening, and sanitation. I'm so excited. My job is becoming more clear to me and I am more pumped every day about spending time at the health post and working with the elementary school. In my eyes, preventative health is very important for children as they are a very vulnerable group. A sick child cannot force a parent to take them to the doctor, but a healthy child can take the initiative to wash his/her hands, eat well, and avoid unhealthy habits. Nic and I have also talked over the possibility of doing health and environment themed radio programs on the local station, a prospect I am particularly excited about. I talked to the director at the school about having a student club (like a radio club) that would work together to write skits that could be recorded and played over the local station. Volunteers have done this in the past and apparently they have been very successful. Just have to wait until October and see if there is a group of students and a supportive teacher that are willing to work with me on this project.
In the meantime, our in-service training is coming up, which means that I get to spend sometime learning additional technical skills that are particularly relevant to my site and the needs of my site. It's been difficult adjusting as it's currently the hot season and we spend an insane amount of time sweating like crazy. I drink at least 5 liters of water most days and still sometimes go to bed feeling dehydrated. This, however, hasn't kept Nic and I from evaluating our surroundings and finding out our community's needs. We still have lots to learn, don't get me wrong, but I at least think we've got something to get the ball rolling.
Our 4th of July celebration is coming up and it is taking place in a very beautiful part of the country. Rumor has it that it is a land of waterfalls and forests, which sounds like a paradise as a citizen of the land of thorns and scorpions. Speaking of scorpions, I had one run up my dress and sting my three times. The stupid thing was maybe 4 inches long, sandy colored, and had big claws, and those stings hurt like H*ll, but the best part was that I panicked, my host family panicked, and I got to experience a bit of the Senegalese health care system. They took me to the health post where my counterpart (the head doctor at the health post) wanted to inject me with Novocaine in the right breast! Of course, I didn't let him (that sounded worse than dealing with the stings), but until that moment I hadn't realized how easy it was to get access to any sort of drug that I might want. At pharmacies you literally just go to the pharmacist and tell him or her what you want and most of the time you just get it. Regulations are lax at best. I don't have any inclination to hang out at the pharmacy, but it's a very different approach from the American-style have-to-sign-for-and-show-id-for-decongestant pharmacist. Our health post is actually in pretty good shape, and people definitely come to the health post with problems. One thing that observing the health post has made me realize is that a basic first aid class would go a very long way in my community. Yes, people do come to the health post for very valid reasons, but sometimes people come with simple cuts and burns that they could take care of themselves at home if somebody showed them how to do it. Infection prevention could also go a long way here, and teaching people methods of sterilizing and cleaning cloth used to cover wounds and proper care of minor injuries could go miles, and potentially relax the work load on the employees at the health post. I am going to be working on my vocabulary for the next few months and talk to some folks about the prospect of teaching a basic first aid class, and perhaps I can pull in some of the health workers in my community to really make sure I am teaching things clearly and properly. The future is formulating.
Being a health volunteer is going to be rewarding in a way that being an English teacher in Kyrgyzstan was not going to be for me. Being a teacher can be very rewarding, but I find this job a much better suit for me in terms of both personal interest and meaningfulness. Certain people are better suited for certain jobs, and this one is a perfect match for me. One of the best mornings I've had in a while was when I woke up early and headed to the health post- rumor had it vaccinations were that day, so I went to check it out. It turns out that while they were not doing vaccinations, they were doing deworming and providing vitamin supplements to the community. The staff broke up into several groups and each of these groups went into the village and provided children within a certain age range with a liquid vitamin A drop (vit. A deficiency is a big problem here) and a dewormer. I went with two staff members into the community and went to about 30 houses and gave supplements to over 100 kids, and it felt wonderful. I got to meet families that I hadn't met before, and it felt good to meet people and show that I was there to help and provide assistance. The staff I went with let me administer the drops which I really appreciated, and I got a much better perspective of the malnutrition issues that exist in my community. At the elementary school, I see mainly healthy kids whose parents have the resources to send their children to school. Sure, there are exceptions, and there are definitely malnourished kids in the schools too. However, the children that need the most outreach are the ones that are the hardest to find: they don't go to school, that stay at home, that are too sick to be in public, etc. At times I question what, if anything, I can do to serve these communities as I am not a doctor, but, when I am feeling good, I can remind myself that simply inspiring a parent to take their sick child to the health post or cook healthier meals with higher nutrient content, or even teaching someone how to make oral re-hydration fluid, can make a world of difference to one person. It's a small step but hopefully a step in the right direction. It's been said about peace corps volunteers that the biggest impact they may have in their community may be the most subtle one, and I can definitely believe that. I have no idea what an impact I will really have in the long run, if I have one at all, but we'll see, we'll see. In the end, in some ways these projects are not my projects, but instead the community's projects, and I am merely the liaison. We will see what the future holds.
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