As I have mentioned in previous blogs, I am seeking funds to build a "health hut" in my village to give my villagers better access to better medical care. My proposal has finally been accepted and is ready to receive donations! I am really excited about this opportunity to really "help" my village -- my counterpart is trained to be a community health agent but currently just works out of his own home. Having a health hut will give him a place to work and provide a better environment for people to receive medical care, including giving birth. I know the holidays are here, on top of a hard economic year in the U.S., but I hope you will consider donating! If you have ANY questions or concerns or want more information, please do not hesitate to e-mail me. And many, many thanks in advance, even if you can't donate but wish me luck, donate $5 or $100, thank you!
To contribute click here or follow this link:
https://www.peacecorps.gov/resources/donors/contribute/projdetail.cfm?projdesc=685-089&
You can also go to http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.volproj and scroll down to see the project listed under "Senegal."
Here is a summary of my project proposal:
Madina Guinguinéo, in the region of Tambacounda, Senegal, is a village of over 600 people, yet at nine kilometers from the main road and nearest health post, access to health care and medicine could be improved with the construction of a health structure. The community has initiated this project, with their vision of a small, 3-room “health hut,” complete with a waiting room and rooms for patient care and maternity care. The village already has a Community Health Agent, Mamadou Dansokho, trained by district and departmental health care providers, as well as a midwife, Ramata Ndiaye, who has received some training and is seeking more. Both are already sought after by the community for health care at their home; building a health structure would give them a legitimate place to work, as well as a place to supply medicine and materials, treat patients with minor health problems in a clean environment, and offer a place for women to give birth. The health hut will continue to be managed by Mr. Dansokho as well as an elected health committee. Mr. Dansokho already gives health talks on preventative measures; the health hut will provide this space and an opportunity to give personalized consultations.
To see my complete proposal, click here. (If you can't get this link to work but would like to find out more about the proposal, please e-mail me!)
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
I really cannot believe it is this time of the year again. It does get cool here at night (sometimes I have to put on a sweatshirt!) but it is still in the 80s during the day and dry. The lack of a real change in weather is one reason it does not feel like Christmas. Another is probably that there are no “Christmas things” out. No Christmas trees, Christmas carols, Christmas specials, discounts, window displays, or even stores, for that matter. For the most part, I haven’t thought much about “missing” Christmas this year, but writing this does make me a bit sad now, especially not having Christmas Eve and Christmas Day traditions with my family. At the same time, this is a chance to think about this holiday (and New Year’s) without all the commercials, wrapping paper, and long lines at the grocery store getting in the way.
I’ll be spending Christmas and New Year’s working at an eye clinic in a larger village a few hours away. An American ophthalmologist is coming to give free cataract surgeries as well as glasses and eye medication during a 10-day clinic. I’ll be working at the clinic with several other Peace Corps volunteers. I’m really looking forward to learning more about various eye problems affecting people in Senegal, as well as focusing on this specific project and being with other Americans for the holidays.
The last few weeks have actually been quite busy. Subsequent meetings with my girls’ group have been difficult. I had a lesson on female anatomy and the menstrual cycle. Granted this is a subject that can be difficult to talk about in any language, especially among certain 14-year-old girls. But with a mixture of my French and Bambara, and then Pulaar, I think a lot of things got lost in translation. The girls just ended up looking at detailed pictures instead of much of a discussion. I think it was helpful and somewhat informative, but again, not exactly what I had hoped. I guess I will keep trying…
With the money fundraised from students at Winship School (where my mom is a teacher), we spent a day putting in the new cement floor. (You can see pictures by following the link on the right.) Men from both the Bambara and Pulaar parts of the village had a good time working together to get the job done. There was money left over to also build a latrine with cement walls instead of just a barrier of woven bamboo. Many, many thanks to the students and faculty at Winship! The students, teachers, and the entire village of Madina Guinguineo is very thankful. You’re all invited to stay in Madina if you ever come to Senegal. (I want to paint a map of the world on the side of the school, pointing out Meridian, California and Madina Guinguineo, Senegal, to give them some perspective. Pictures will hopefully be forthcoming.)
I also helped out with a massive 3-day vaccination tourney to eradicate lymphatic filariasis, or as I like to call it, “elephantiasis.” We gave medicine to practically everyone in my village as well as three surrounding villages, totaling over 1,000 people. Organized by the district health post in Missirah (8 km away) with funding from the American non-profit Africare (www.africare.org), teams were sent to villages in the entire area to pass out the pills. I need to do some research, but I don’t think it was a “vaccination” tourney per se, but more of an eradication of the disease (or the parasite) at this point in time, thus preventing further infection. Even though my ego was a little hurt that I didn’t have a role in any of the planning, I was glad to take part in the execution. It was good for me to literally greet everyone in the area and meet those who I haven’t met yet. I was exhausted by the end of the three days—a good feeling.
On the farming end, harvest is still in process. The corn is all done and now stored on the top of my shade structure in front of my hut until it is slowly used up. The peanuts are all dug up and now getting “processed” to take back to the village. They put the entire plants into huge piles and then literally beat them with a stick, breaking up the dried plants and subsequently breaking the peanut off of the root. The women then put the pieces into a big bucket; when the wind picks up they hold the bucket up and let the pieces fall out. The wind will carry the parts of the plant away leaving the heavy peanuts to fall into another bucket. They repeat the process for harvesting millet, first beating it and then letting the wind carry away the unwanted parts. Our cotton is ready to be harvested and has been sitting idle for at least a month now; once all of our food crops are finished we’ll move on to the cotton.
That’s about it! I wish you all a very happy holiday season, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. May you enjoy the endless Christmas carols, movies, and sometimes horrendous holiday decorations or gaudy sweaters. May you also enjoy the cookies, the fudge, and the holiday the Chex mix (if you are a part of my family). And may you especially enjoy time spent with your friends and families. I do wish I could be home, but I am content with being here.
I’ll be spending Christmas and New Year’s working at an eye clinic in a larger village a few hours away. An American ophthalmologist is coming to give free cataract surgeries as well as glasses and eye medication during a 10-day clinic. I’ll be working at the clinic with several other Peace Corps volunteers. I’m really looking forward to learning more about various eye problems affecting people in Senegal, as well as focusing on this specific project and being with other Americans for the holidays.
The last few weeks have actually been quite busy. Subsequent meetings with my girls’ group have been difficult. I had a lesson on female anatomy and the menstrual cycle. Granted this is a subject that can be difficult to talk about in any language, especially among certain 14-year-old girls. But with a mixture of my French and Bambara, and then Pulaar, I think a lot of things got lost in translation. The girls just ended up looking at detailed pictures instead of much of a discussion. I think it was helpful and somewhat informative, but again, not exactly what I had hoped. I guess I will keep trying…
With the money fundraised from students at Winship School (where my mom is a teacher), we spent a day putting in the new cement floor. (You can see pictures by following the link on the right.) Men from both the Bambara and Pulaar parts of the village had a good time working together to get the job done. There was money left over to also build a latrine with cement walls instead of just a barrier of woven bamboo. Many, many thanks to the students and faculty at Winship! The students, teachers, and the entire village of Madina Guinguineo is very thankful. You’re all invited to stay in Madina if you ever come to Senegal. (I want to paint a map of the world on the side of the school, pointing out Meridian, California and Madina Guinguineo, Senegal, to give them some perspective. Pictures will hopefully be forthcoming.)
I also helped out with a massive 3-day vaccination tourney to eradicate lymphatic filariasis, or as I like to call it, “elephantiasis.” We gave medicine to practically everyone in my village as well as three surrounding villages, totaling over 1,000 people. Organized by the district health post in Missirah (8 km away) with funding from the American non-profit Africare (www.africare.org), teams were sent to villages in the entire area to pass out the pills. I need to do some research, but I don’t think it was a “vaccination” tourney per se, but more of an eradication of the disease (or the parasite) at this point in time, thus preventing further infection. Even though my ego was a little hurt that I didn’t have a role in any of the planning, I was glad to take part in the execution. It was good for me to literally greet everyone in the area and meet those who I haven’t met yet. I was exhausted by the end of the three days—a good feeling.
On the farming end, harvest is still in process. The corn is all done and now stored on the top of my shade structure in front of my hut until it is slowly used up. The peanuts are all dug up and now getting “processed” to take back to the village. They put the entire plants into huge piles and then literally beat them with a stick, breaking up the dried plants and subsequently breaking the peanut off of the root. The women then put the pieces into a big bucket; when the wind picks up they hold the bucket up and let the pieces fall out. The wind will carry the parts of the plant away leaving the heavy peanuts to fall into another bucket. They repeat the process for harvesting millet, first beating it and then letting the wind carry away the unwanted parts. Our cotton is ready to be harvested and has been sitting idle for at least a month now; once all of our food crops are finished we’ll move on to the cotton.
That’s about it! I wish you all a very happy holiday season, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. May you enjoy the endless Christmas carols, movies, and sometimes horrendous holiday decorations or gaudy sweaters. May you also enjoy the cookies, the fudge, and the holiday the Chex mix (if you are a part of my family). And may you especially enjoy time spent with your friends and families. I do wish I could be home, but I am content with being here.
P.S. If anyone would like to send some supplies for my girls’ group (15 girls) and probably others in the village, here are some things I would like to share with them:
- Toothbrushes and floss (toothpaste not necessary but definitely accepted)
- Yarn and knitting needles
Also, if anyone wants to start correspondence with students here or the teachers, they would love to participate. French would be great, but we can also work through translations. And, if anyone has access to French magazines or books, helping me start a mini-library would be great! Reading material is wildly expensive and most people do not read for anything other than school, if they are literate at all.
Things That Go Bump in the Night
Let me start small and work my way up to the “grand finale.” Actually, it isn’t so much “grand” as just “big”—literally.
For about the past month, it seems that the dogs of the village have engaged in warfare. Maybe even tribal warfare. Starting at about 2 AM, the dogs bark and fight non-stop. You can hear them from the next two villages over. Sometimes I worry that they are barking at some wild animal that has entered our compound plotting to eat our chickens or somehow open my locked door to eat me, but other times it is clear they are just barking for the sake of it. Other times they are running in packs and fighting, each trying to protect their territory. I can’t be sure about anything; I have enough languages going on in my head that their language just doesn’t fit. Sometimes thinking up all the different scenarios that could be playing out in the village in the middle of the night is entertaining between 2-5 AM when I am inevitably awake. Other times it is just plain annoying…
…but not as annoying as the saga of the shrew. I’m not even sure if it really is a shrew; actually I’m not really sure what a shrew is. But this creature is definitely nocturnal, makes a small squeaking sound, and has large teeth with which to eat toads. (The convenient name for a toad in Bambara: “toad-y.”) I used to have a toad problem in my room, especially around dawn and dusk, but no longer. Now, I have a shrew problem! Like the dog fights, the shrew enters my hut usually around 1 AM. It searches the corners for toads. When it finds one, the toad’s fight for survival begins and I am no longer asleep. Thankfully they are afraid of the light emitted from my flashlight and will squeak back to the corner or, if I am lucky, under my door and back outside. It would help the situation if they were cute, but they are not. And finding half-eaten toad carcasses in the corners of my hut in the morning is not very pleasant!
Now, if you are my mom (or my dad for that matter), you should probably stop reading! This story has to do with… a snake. (In Bambara: “saa.”)
Last Thursday night, while we were eating dinner, the commotion started. The men got up and found their flashlights (or took their wife’s) and started searching around my hut. I asked what they were looking for but all I could get was a hurried, “Thing.” The women continued eating and dismissed the men as crazy. About 10 minutes later it came out that someone was riding their bicycle on the path behind my hut and saw a huge snake cross and enter into our compound. Another ten minutes or so and they found it—under a log behind and beside the back of my hut. They chased it out into the road again and killed it. When all was said and done the women (including myself, since I am now so adherent to Senegalese gender standards) went out to see it. The slight amount of moonlight and the glow of flashlights made the scene even more dramatic than it already was, but the men had killed a black snake at least 6 feet long. (After a few months of telling this story this number is definitely going to increase!) They said they have never seen a snake that big. Regardless, it is now DEAD. (And no one was hurt, except the snake, of course.)
The next morning they left it on the road for a few hours to show off, let the kids see it, and give me the opportunity to take a few pictures. (Go to the link to my pictures on the right.) I guess they threw it down a well they are digging on the outskirts of the village for later use in a garden. This seemed like not the best idea to me, but then again, what do I know? At least it is buried, kind of.
To add to the story, later that night, Mao, my host brother and counterpart, told me that they believe that snakes and evil spirits are “la même chose” or “the same thing.” If a snake comes to a certain man’s house (some sort of spiritual master), he can tell the snake (and thus the evil spirit) to leave, saving his family. (Of course it was implied that a woman does not have the same power.) Later as I was trying to sleep, I started thinking what this meant for me. Out of all the huts in the village, it came next to mine. Do I have evil spirits coming after me? Am I cursed? Do people in my village now think this? (Probably not. At this point it was midnight, WAY past my village bedtime and I was getting a bit delirious.) Life au village is sometimes slow, unchanging, each day a repeat of the past. But sometimes, like last Thursday night, something does happen. And these are the little stories I am thankful I will have for the rest of my life.
For about the past month, it seems that the dogs of the village have engaged in warfare. Maybe even tribal warfare. Starting at about 2 AM, the dogs bark and fight non-stop. You can hear them from the next two villages over. Sometimes I worry that they are barking at some wild animal that has entered our compound plotting to eat our chickens or somehow open my locked door to eat me, but other times it is clear they are just barking for the sake of it. Other times they are running in packs and fighting, each trying to protect their territory. I can’t be sure about anything; I have enough languages going on in my head that their language just doesn’t fit. Sometimes thinking up all the different scenarios that could be playing out in the village in the middle of the night is entertaining between 2-5 AM when I am inevitably awake. Other times it is just plain annoying…
…but not as annoying as the saga of the shrew. I’m not even sure if it really is a shrew; actually I’m not really sure what a shrew is. But this creature is definitely nocturnal, makes a small squeaking sound, and has large teeth with which to eat toads. (The convenient name for a toad in Bambara: “toad-y.”) I used to have a toad problem in my room, especially around dawn and dusk, but no longer. Now, I have a shrew problem! Like the dog fights, the shrew enters my hut usually around 1 AM. It searches the corners for toads. When it finds one, the toad’s fight for survival begins and I am no longer asleep. Thankfully they are afraid of the light emitted from my flashlight and will squeak back to the corner or, if I am lucky, under my door and back outside. It would help the situation if they were cute, but they are not. And finding half-eaten toad carcasses in the corners of my hut in the morning is not very pleasant!
Now, if you are my mom (or my dad for that matter), you should probably stop reading! This story has to do with… a snake. (In Bambara: “saa.”)
Last Thursday night, while we were eating dinner, the commotion started. The men got up and found their flashlights (or took their wife’s) and started searching around my hut. I asked what they were looking for but all I could get was a hurried, “Thing.” The women continued eating and dismissed the men as crazy. About 10 minutes later it came out that someone was riding their bicycle on the path behind my hut and saw a huge snake cross and enter into our compound. Another ten minutes or so and they found it—under a log behind and beside the back of my hut. They chased it out into the road again and killed it. When all was said and done the women (including myself, since I am now so adherent to Senegalese gender standards) went out to see it. The slight amount of moonlight and the glow of flashlights made the scene even more dramatic than it already was, but the men had killed a black snake at least 6 feet long. (After a few months of telling this story this number is definitely going to increase!) They said they have never seen a snake that big. Regardless, it is now DEAD. (And no one was hurt, except the snake, of course.)
The next morning they left it on the road for a few hours to show off, let the kids see it, and give me the opportunity to take a few pictures. (Go to the link to my pictures on the right.) I guess they threw it down a well they are digging on the outskirts of the village for later use in a garden. This seemed like not the best idea to me, but then again, what do I know? At least it is buried, kind of.
To add to the story, later that night, Mao, my host brother and counterpart, told me that they believe that snakes and evil spirits are “la même chose” or “the same thing.” If a snake comes to a certain man’s house (some sort of spiritual master), he can tell the snake (and thus the evil spirit) to leave, saving his family. (Of course it was implied that a woman does not have the same power.) Later as I was trying to sleep, I started thinking what this meant for me. Out of all the huts in the village, it came next to mine. Do I have evil spirits coming after me? Am I cursed? Do people in my village now think this? (Probably not. At this point it was midnight, WAY past my village bedtime and I was getting a bit delirious.) Life au village is sometimes slow, unchanging, each day a repeat of the past. But sometimes, like last Thursday night, something does happen. And these are the little stories I am thankful I will have for the rest of my life.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)