When I got the estimate for the well and pump that my village needs, I was a litttttttle shocked. $10,000 for a concrete well and a few pieces of machinery?? But, as it turns out, I need to scrounge up the money to bring water to my village. Kinda important source of life.
When I have written the proposal up I will let those of you who are interested know more about particulars. It will be a new well. Our water table is 60 meters underground, maybe another reason it is so expensive. Our hope is to create a garden next to the well so that my village can more easily sustain themselves. Also, the water tower in the neighboring village is always broken so that means that we have to pull water everyday. The women in my village already have a lot on their plate. So, in addition to making Goudoude a more environmentally friendly village, it will also alleviate some of the workload.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Abou Samba Ka
When I first arrived in Goudoude Diobe, Abou Ka was my point of contact. He had gone to Thies for a counterpart workshop before I arrived to do a meet and greet. Over the next few months I would eat at his house, run ideas for projects by him, bring presents for his family, meet the local officials, and go to meetings with him.
Unfortunately, he died last Monday, March 9. I was not in the village when he died and it was probably for the best. My host mom called me to tell me and I immediately called my closest female friend in the village to give my condolences, who happens to live at his house.
I was in Thies for the training of the new volunteers and decided against going on the 14 hr car ride back to Goudoude. The people in my village know I'm not Muslim and women are not allowed to go to the cemetery, so it would have just been me sitting with the rest of the village women, crying and wailing.
He was a great father. He would play and joke with his 2 and 4 year-old daughters, which is not the norm for Pulaar men. He was funny, giving, always willing to help me try to get a project off the ground. He was my closest male friend in my village.
What makes this even more upsetting is that his death could have been prevented. He had gotten an infection in his hand, which often happens here. The thing is the infection then spread all the way down his body and, I think, eventually infected his blood, which is what killed him. He went to the hospital, but I think it was too late. They turned him away and gave him a prescription for a medicine the pharmacy had run out of.
In talking with my boss, he thinks what likely happened is that he was seen at the hospital and the doctors determined that it was too late to save him, so instead of treating him and letting him die at the hospital, they sent him home to be with family.
THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT ANY BETTER!
Clearly, I am still frustrated and now want to become a public health nurse even more than before. If I had been more trained in medicine, I would have gladly given him some of the meds from my personal med kit to make him better. If it had happened to me, I would have gotten medicine and been better because I am white and living overseas. It's not fair and I'm going to make sure that something like that never happens to anyone again while I am living in Goudoude Diobe.
Unfortunately, he died last Monday, March 9. I was not in the village when he died and it was probably for the best. My host mom called me to tell me and I immediately called my closest female friend in the village to give my condolences, who happens to live at his house.
I was in Thies for the training of the new volunteers and decided against going on the 14 hr car ride back to Goudoude. The people in my village know I'm not Muslim and women are not allowed to go to the cemetery, so it would have just been me sitting with the rest of the village women, crying and wailing.
He was a great father. He would play and joke with his 2 and 4 year-old daughters, which is not the norm for Pulaar men. He was funny, giving, always willing to help me try to get a project off the ground. He was my closest male friend in my village.
What makes this even more upsetting is that his death could have been prevented. He had gotten an infection in his hand, which often happens here. The thing is the infection then spread all the way down his body and, I think, eventually infected his blood, which is what killed him. He went to the hospital, but I think it was too late. They turned him away and gave him a prescription for a medicine the pharmacy had run out of.
In talking with my boss, he thinks what likely happened is that he was seen at the hospital and the doctors determined that it was too late to save him, so instead of treating him and letting him die at the hospital, they sent him home to be with family.
THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT ANY BETTER!
Clearly, I am still frustrated and now want to become a public health nurse even more than before. If I had been more trained in medicine, I would have gladly given him some of the meds from my personal med kit to make him better. If it had happened to me, I would have gotten medicine and been better because I am white and living overseas. It's not fair and I'm going to make sure that something like that never happens to anyone again while I am living in Goudoude Diobe.
Monday, March 9, 2009
An, kaa bidoam
My host mother and I have a tempestuous relationship to say the least. However, two days ago when I got VERY ill, things seemed to change for the better.
I woke up at 5:30 and threw up my dinner from the night before. Sorry if this is too graphic for you. But, I guess I must have made a lot noise while throwing up because I heard my host mom, who was sleeping outside my door, wake up and yell at my 6 year old host brother, "Hassim! Did you just throw up? Did you?" The poor kid woke up and gave her a sleepy no.
Around 7, after not falling back asleep, I walked outside my room and told her that it was me throwing up and that I was going to go to Ndioum and see the doctors. I was upset because this was the first time I had been completely alone and really sick. To my surprise, she was concerned. She then told me to call her as soon as the doctors knew what was wrong and if I couldn't physically call her I was to have the doctors call her and tell her what was wrong. Then she offered to come visit me at the hospital if I had to stay overnight there. I told her I would probably be fine and then she told me "Alla, ann, kaa bidoam." It means "No, you, you are my child."
I understand that to many people this means nothing and really I am only my biological mother and father's "child." But, just knowing that I am a part of a family so far away from the family that I grew up with and the culture that I know, really meant a lot to me. Of course, in reality, she probably wouldn't have come visit me, whatever. The fact that she said I was her child means so much to me, an outsider, it doesn't even matter. I felt accepted--like I belonged. Something I haven't really felt amongst Senegalese.
I did end up getting better. My friend thought I might have malaria---I DON'T! It was just a virus and I am recovering. It was actually kind of funny that I got sick almost as soon as I wrote my last blog entry about not wanting to come home. When I was sweating out the 102 temperature and my entire body ached, let me tell you, I would have gladly accepted a ticket back to the States. Thankfully, I had access to the wonder-drug Cipro.
I woke up at 5:30 and threw up my dinner from the night before. Sorry if this is too graphic for you. But, I guess I must have made a lot noise while throwing up because I heard my host mom, who was sleeping outside my door, wake up and yell at my 6 year old host brother, "Hassim! Did you just throw up? Did you?" The poor kid woke up and gave her a sleepy no.
Around 7, after not falling back asleep, I walked outside my room and told her that it was me throwing up and that I was going to go to Ndioum and see the doctors. I was upset because this was the first time I had been completely alone and really sick. To my surprise, she was concerned. She then told me to call her as soon as the doctors knew what was wrong and if I couldn't physically call her I was to have the doctors call her and tell her what was wrong. Then she offered to come visit me at the hospital if I had to stay overnight there. I told her I would probably be fine and then she told me "Alla, ann, kaa bidoam." It means "No, you, you are my child."
I understand that to many people this means nothing and really I am only my biological mother and father's "child." But, just knowing that I am a part of a family so far away from the family that I grew up with and the culture that I know, really meant a lot to me. Of course, in reality, she probably wouldn't have come visit me, whatever. The fact that she said I was her child means so much to me, an outsider, it doesn't even matter. I felt accepted--like I belonged. Something I haven't really felt amongst Senegalese.
I did end up getting better. My friend thought I might have malaria---I DON'T! It was just a virus and I am recovering. It was actually kind of funny that I got sick almost as soon as I wrote my last blog entry about not wanting to come home. When I was sweating out the 102 temperature and my entire body ached, let me tell you, I would have gladly accepted a ticket back to the States. Thankfully, I had access to the wonder-drug Cipro.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
I had a dream last night......
As many of you know, Mefloquine is the malaria prophylaxis I have to take each week to ensure that I don't get malaria and die. A common side effect of Mefloquine are the weird dreams or nightmares that occur while taking it, and up until a few weeks ago I had normal dreams.
BUT, last night I dreamt that I ETed, or signed my early termination forms. I dreamt that I was back in the States visiting and that everyone had thought I was going to ET and there was no way for me to go back to Senegal and continue my service. Even despite the fact that I really really wanted to and felt that I could stick it out for one more year. This probably doesn't sound scary, I'm sure. What, living in the land of T.V., cold (good) beers, cars, constant access to the Internet, ice cream....the list goes on. But, I was so shaken by this dream that I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. The heat is probably getting to me AND I do live by myself, in a hut, in the middle of the desert...
This leads me to my next point. After giving it much thought, I don't think I will be coming home during my service. I am finally happy here. I wake up and look forward to the upcoming events that I have planned, despite the heat, power outages, and Senegalese men. I don't want to potentially ruin this good streak I've got going and I am quite positive that coming home would separate me mentally from Senegal and I wouldn't want to come back. I'm at a good place right now. I like my fellow volunteers, for the most part I like my village, I'm genuinely excited about projects, etc. This is fun!
I know I will be missing out on a lot of fun in the States as well. Namely everyone's wedding!! It seems like the second I left the country everyone decided to get engaged! But, I will be there in spirit. And when I get back next April I am having a big party, so everyone should mark their calendars now.
BUT, last night I dreamt that I ETed, or signed my early termination forms. I dreamt that I was back in the States visiting and that everyone had thought I was going to ET and there was no way for me to go back to Senegal and continue my service. Even despite the fact that I really really wanted to and felt that I could stick it out for one more year. This probably doesn't sound scary, I'm sure. What, living in the land of T.V., cold (good) beers, cars, constant access to the Internet, ice cream....the list goes on. But, I was so shaken by this dream that I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. The heat is probably getting to me AND I do live by myself, in a hut, in the middle of the desert...
This leads me to my next point. After giving it much thought, I don't think I will be coming home during my service. I am finally happy here. I wake up and look forward to the upcoming events that I have planned, despite the heat, power outages, and Senegalese men. I don't want to potentially ruin this good streak I've got going and I am quite positive that coming home would separate me mentally from Senegal and I wouldn't want to come back. I'm at a good place right now. I like my fellow volunteers, for the most part I like my village, I'm genuinely excited about projects, etc. This is fun!
I know I will be missing out on a lot of fun in the States as well. Namely everyone's wedding!! It seems like the second I left the country everyone decided to get engaged! But, I will be there in spirit. And when I get back next April I am having a big party, so everyone should mark their calendars now.
Monday, March 2, 2009
WAIST
The softball tournament was GREAT! I had so much fun seeing the other volunteers from Senegal, meeting new volunteers from other countries, eating good food, and catching up with some IWU folks.
Leslie and Ryan came up from the Gambia and Jess is now a volunteer in the Tamba region of Senegal, so we all had an IWU reunion and went out to lunch. It was so great to see them!
Team Fuuta lost all of our games, but we were in the social league so it wasn’t that big of a deal. At least, not to me. We all dressed up, danced on the field, cheered until we were hoarse. FUN. I was the catcher for most games and improved my horrible throw.
Then after, I went to Dakar where I met up with the matron from my village, Wuri Ka, for a three-day seminar about HIV/AIDS. We went over Life Skills lessons, which are self-esteem, peer pressure, and sexual education lessons. It was great to be able to share with someone from my community the type of work that I do when I travel. I was starting to get worried that people just thought that I went on vacation all the time.
In other news, I am going to try and organize my village to get a pump for one of the wells. This will help SO MUCH when the water tower is out of service, which seems to be happening more and more frequently. When that happens, the women in the village have to go to one of the two wells and pull water in small, rubber bags. The wells are 55 meters deep, so it takes about 3 minutes for them to pull up one bag of water. This is hard work and very time-consuming. So, the pump will do that part of the work and then the women will only have to walk with water on their head for a long distance.
Also, another volunteer and me are trying to organize a triathlon of sorts. So far we have the run set at 20 km and then we are still debating if we want to swim across the river to Mauritania and the biking….it will happen and we are going to try to make it a fundraiser for an AIDS organization in Richard Toll. I will be sure to keep you all posted.
Leslie and Ryan came up from the Gambia and Jess is now a volunteer in the Tamba region of Senegal, so we all had an IWU reunion and went out to lunch. It was so great to see them!
Team Fuuta lost all of our games, but we were in the social league so it wasn’t that big of a deal. At least, not to me. We all dressed up, danced on the field, cheered until we were hoarse. FUN. I was the catcher for most games and improved my horrible throw.
Then after, I went to Dakar where I met up with the matron from my village, Wuri Ka, for a three-day seminar about HIV/AIDS. We went over Life Skills lessons, which are self-esteem, peer pressure, and sexual education lessons. It was great to be able to share with someone from my community the type of work that I do when I travel. I was starting to get worried that people just thought that I went on vacation all the time.
In other news, I am going to try and organize my village to get a pump for one of the wells. This will help SO MUCH when the water tower is out of service, which seems to be happening more and more frequently. When that happens, the women in the village have to go to one of the two wells and pull water in small, rubber bags. The wells are 55 meters deep, so it takes about 3 minutes for them to pull up one bag of water. This is hard work and very time-consuming. So, the pump will do that part of the work and then the women will only have to walk with water on their head for a long distance.
Also, another volunteer and me are trying to organize a triathlon of sorts. So far we have the run set at 20 km and then we are still debating if we want to swim across the river to Mauritania and the biking….it will happen and we are going to try to make it a fundraiser for an AIDS organization in Richard Toll. I will be sure to keep you all posted.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Long Awaited GREAT day update
I helped out with a concert in Podor at the end of January that supported the fight against HIV/AIDS. There were about 10 of us altogether helping ensure the smoothness of the concert.
We had the Red Cross come and do AIDS testing, two bands, a comedy troupe, and general information about HIV. It was great. There were 61 people that were tested and of those, NO ONE tested positive! Of course, it was probably a self-selected group of individuals that already knew they didn't have the virus, but it was still one of the highest turnouts that the Red Cross had ever seen at an event. It would be great to have a more random sample size, but it is impossible to force people to be tested. I was happy anyways.
The bands were pretty cool and the comedy troupe was well-received by the crowd. Although, I couldn't understand what was being said because it was all in Wolof, it was still pretty cool. It's so true that in order to talk about serious subjects like AIDS, you need to do it with humor here. It makes it less awkward, I think.
I also got a sweet, free t-shirt from the event. It was great and I felt like I had helped people.
Right now, is the West African Invitational Softball Tournament (WAIST) so it's been mayhem. I will update about it when I have more than 10 min to myself! Missssss everyone!
We had the Red Cross come and do AIDS testing, two bands, a comedy troupe, and general information about HIV. It was great. There were 61 people that were tested and of those, NO ONE tested positive! Of course, it was probably a self-selected group of individuals that already knew they didn't have the virus, but it was still one of the highest turnouts that the Red Cross had ever seen at an event. It would be great to have a more random sample size, but it is impossible to force people to be tested. I was happy anyways.
The bands were pretty cool and the comedy troupe was well-received by the crowd. Although, I couldn't understand what was being said because it was all in Wolof, it was still pretty cool. It's so true that in order to talk about serious subjects like AIDS, you need to do it with humor here. It makes it less awkward, I think.
I also got a sweet, free t-shirt from the event. It was great and I felt like I had helped people.
Right now, is the West African Invitational Softball Tournament (WAIST) so it's been mayhem. I will update about it when I have more than 10 min to myself! Missssss everyone!
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