'Til Death Do Us Part

Somewhere on the unofficial “are you a good volunteer” checklist, is the question, do you attend cultural events in your community? Here in Guinea, that mostly means weddings and funerals, and I was lucky enough to go to both within a week of each other. I realize this is not the first time I'm writing about both a sad and a happy event as if they were the same thing. I've noticed that I leave each of these events feeling pretty much the same: emotionally exhausted, frustrated, mortified, etc. I could continue, but you get the idea.

Last month, I spent a week worrying that one of my students had died. After attending a funeral next door, I ran into one of my female students, who in tears, said a word I never caught, then one of my student's name, and then “is dead.” I thought back to what people had been talking about during the funeral and realized they had used the word xarandi (student) quite frequently. So, I was left feeling horrible about myself because I had been at one of my students funeral and didn't even know it. But that unknown word kept haunting me...it could've been anything, including brother or sister. A few days later, I was outside in the dark, and someone greeted me. I could've sworn it was the student in question, but it was dark, so I wasn't sure, which made it even worse. Finally, about a week later, he walked by my house and I sighed in relief. He was very much alive, and I still had all my students. A similar event occurred this past week. My principal had gathered all the students and was lecturing them about how they need to stop riding on the tops of semi-trucks, because of how dangerous it is. He then proceeded to mention that several students had died in an accident the night before. Horrified, I scanned the ranks to see who was missing. It was only later that he told me it wasn't anyone from our school and I was able to once again sigh in relief. I'm terrified of the day when that won't be an option, and when I do end up losing a student.

This brings me to the wedding. I was coming home from a run, and found a crowd of people at my neighbors and DJ's setting up speakers. I went over and asked what was going on. A marriage, they told me, pointing to the bride who was getting her hair done. She didn't look very happy. She looked young and terrified, and I couldn't blame her. Girls here are normally married between the ages of 15 and 18 to men who are much older and who may already have 1, 2, or 3 wives. Several hours later, the music started up, and people old and young flocked to it. Even though it was around 10 PM, I ventured out of my house and picked a nice spot in the shadows, away from the speakers and the light. I wasn't permitted to stay there long, but instead was moved next-to the speakers, which were loud enough to cause a pounding headache and the illusion that my ears were bleeding. I refused to stay there, and so they moved me about 5ft from the speaker, right in front of the DJ. It took him all of about a second to notice me and then it was what I had dreaded. “Look here everyone! Look at the FOTÉ. FOTÉ come dance with me.” To which I shook my head and vehemently refused to move. This little exchange went on for about 5 minutes before one of my neighbors grabbed my arm telling me I had to do it , and that I was being an embarrassment to the community. So I got up, and “danced” in front of hundreds of people who were all cheering and whistling at me. As mortifying as this was, it wasn't however the worst part of the night. People then came up around me and started putting money into my hands which I then had to place on a platter in front of the soon-to-be couple. Only after this was I allowed to sit down. Once I was back in my seat, the DJ began calling up all the other rich people who were present. Little did I know, they do this at every wedding. They call up the “patrons” and then it becomes a contest of who gives the most money to the bride and groom. Honestly, the scene brought to mind the part of the Ten Commandments movie when they are worshipping the golden calf. They were doing the same thing to the money given by the rich people. And here I was, the obviously rich because of my skin color, a stingy grinch who didn't give my money away to complete strangers.

Here in Guinea, I'm asked, every day, why I'm here but don't give people my money. I've stopped explaining that I'm here as a volunteer, because most of them could care less that I'm here to help their children. Instead they demand that I buy them dinner and get offended and angry when I tell them that I can't. I guess a lifetime of receiving handouts from aid grants and other sources has conditioned them to expect white people to throw money at them. This fact has made me more than a few enemies in my village, and the wedding only made it worse. At this point, I had to either leave or cry in front of my entire village, and so I left by faking a phone call, and proceeded to lock myself in my house. I then decided that I never want to attend a wedding again. This decision was reenforced by the blaring music that kept me up until 4 am and the mocking that ensued the following day. I never thought I'd say that I would rather go to a funeral than a wedding, but then again, this country has made me say and do a lot of things I never thought I would.  

Malaria

Malaria. That's that mosquito disease right? Did you know that malaria used to kill people in the United States? Did you know that a child dies every 60 seconds from malaria? Did you know that malaria is the number one killer in Guinea? Did you know that it's 100% preventable?

Malaria is a disease transmitted by the female mosquito Anopheles. What happens is that a mosquito will bite a sick person and then transmits the disease to the next person bitten. Malaria is caused by the parasite plasmodium, or which there are 4 types. The most deadly of these four is plasmodium falciparum, which is the strain predominantly found in Guinea. While anyone can get malaria, those most at risk are pregnant women, children under 5, those who are HIV positive, and foreigners. Once stricken, malaria presents itself with a high and cyclical fever accompanied by chills, body aches and severe headaches. Severe cases can result in seizures, coma, and even death. Malaria is no joke. In fact, after several weeks in Guinea, I experienced a mild case of it and it was the worst headache of my life. I laid in bed, sweating and then shivering, head pounding, with the worst fever I've had here. Thankfully, my case was minor and it went away quickly. For the cases that don't go away, there is treatment available. In Guinea, Artemensinin-Based Combination Therapy is used to treat someone with malaria. You'll have to ask someone else exactly what the previous sentence means. Another option is oral quinine, quinine being something found in tonic water (although in a much smaller dose). Both of these options are available here, and are reasonably priced.

As I mentioned before, malaria is the number one killer in Guinea. Malaria accounts for about 25% of the deaths of children under 5, and 30% of all hospitalizations. The good news? It can be stopped! There are many ways to prevent the transmission of malaria. The most effective of these measures is sleeping under an insecticide-treated bed net every night. This not only reduces the likelihood of being bitten, but the insecticide kills any mosquito landing on the net. Other measure of protection including spraying houses with insecticide, eliminated mosquito breeding grounds, aka, stagnant water, wearing long sleeves and pants, drowning oneself in bug spray, or taking some for of malaria prophylaxis. This last method is popular with foreigners, who take one of three different types of medicine. All PC Volunteers in Guinea, and throughout most of SSA are required to take these medications all year round. Finally, pregnant women are encouraged to take malaria prevention medicine, in order to protect themselves and the baby, and this medicine is supposed to be continuously available at health centers.

So that is the deal. Malaria is spread by mosquitos and cannot be spread by people, or as the people believe here, mangoes. In addition, malaria is PREVENTABLE and for the most part has been eliminated in countries such as the US, Morocco, Senegal, Mozambique, Namibia, and Botswana. It takes a lot of work, but it is possible. Around the globe, PC Volunteers are involved in Malaria Month, one month dedicated to the prevention and eventual elimination of the disease. Volunteers, including myself are planning activities in their village to educate their communities. Here in Coliah, I'll be educating my students by incorporating malaria into my math lessons, I'll be going around my neighborhood making sure people are using their bed nets (or helping to hand them if they aren't) and I'm also helping to plan a soccer game, during which we will talk to people about malaria and how to stop it. So, Happy Malaria Month! Thanks for reading, and please share what you learned with others.  

Click here to read a poem/PSA by Doctor Seuss about malaria - http://www.history.navy.mil/library/online/thisisann.htm

The Time I Accidentally Prayed to Allah

As far as stressful weeks go, this one takes the cake. This week was the “Brevet Blanc”, the practice version of the high school entrance exam that takes place in June. Over the span of 4 days, my students had exams in Chemistry, History, French, Physics, Geography, Civics, Math and Biology. To my surprise, some of the subjects had decent topics. For example,  for French they had to write an essay about how important school is for the future, and for History they had to analyze colonialism. I had hoped the open-ended questions would help the students, but I quickly realized that they don't understand open-ended questions. Instead, they tried to answer the essay questions with definitions that have been drilled into their heads over the years. In the end, all of the subjects passed in the same manner. “It was so hard.” “We never learned that.” “We learned that last year.” or as a student so eloquently put it, “it nearly killed us Madam.” And he's right! Out of 67 students that took the exams, less than 10 of them managed to average a passing grade.

When it came to the math sections, I was just as nervous as all of my students (because contrary to their beliefs, I hadn't yet seen the topic). I let out a huge sigh of relief when I saw the questions. There wasn't anything I hadn't gotten to yet, and it was something they should've been able to do. It was mostly things I had taught them this year, plus a few things from previous grades. As much as my kids complained about it, it was much easier than what is usually on the exam. Despite that fact, none of my students passed. Not a single one. Talk about a blow to everything I've tried to do here!

In many ways, the Brevet is unfair. There is no standard of difficulty, and no standard grading procedure. In addition, the wording of the questions is purposely made more difficult in order to trip up the students. All of those things are in the hands of the government, and nothing can be done about them. One things however is guaranteed. Cheating. I ended up playing exam proctor for the last two days of the exams to reduce/eliminate the cheating that had gone on the first two days. For the most part, this cheating was due to a lack of vigilance among the other proctors. Some of them had fallen asleep during the exams! Kids had cheat sheets with them, they were passing notes, they were blatantly looking at others work, and a large number were caught using cell phones, where mass texts had been sent out with the answers to the questions. None of that really shocked me though because I've seen that kind of cheating in progress all year. What did shock me was that my students fully expect me to help them cheat for the real exams, and every time I refuse, they tell me I'm not really here to help them. They want me to “research” the test questions and help them memorize the answers. I had a pretty serious talk with them about that. I told them they needed to work hard, and that they could pass without cheating. They were astonished by the positive reinforcement. All week they'd been told, by my fellow teachers, things like “you don't know anything,” “why don't you just give up and go home,” “you refuse to learn.” So I got a hearty “MERCI MADAM” when I told them I had faith in them and that they were capable. Speaking of faith...

Every phone that I took during the exams sat on my kitchen table until the week was over. So, the second they finished the last exam, students came over, en masse, to take back their phones. When they arrived, I had music playing in the house, and it turned into a dance party. Finally, as they were heading out, they noticed a book in Arabic my neighbors has left on my porch. They asked me if it was my book, and then came the inevitable “do you speak Arabic?” Well, when I said no, they shoved the book in my face and told me to read the phonetic part, which I did. They were both shocked and amused to hear me speaking Arabic, and they made me read more and more. Finally they said “Madam you speak Arabic”. I explained that even though words had come out of my mouth, I didn't understand what I'd said. They laughed and explained, “Madame that's one of our prayers!”  

Strangers in a Strange Land Part 2

Words of wisdom my xunya! This was supposed to be in last weeks post, but didn't quite make it.


So, Christine asked me to write a few words about my experience in Guinea as a visitor. There's so much that it's hard to pinpoint what to write about; every day held a completely new experience. Traveling in the taxis, talking to Africans, meeting my sister's fellow volunteers. Eating food, sitting in on Guinean school classes; even hanging outside my sister's house under the yentenye fruit tree to escape the heat and playing with the neighbor kids. This is possibly why it's been hard for me to get something together for Christine to post in her blog. People ask me what my favorite part was, what was the most surprising or different, and I honestly can't pinpoint a particular theme. I liked it in Guinea, though, must to Christine's (and her fellow volunteers') surprise. It's one of the poorest and least developed countries in the world, yet the people there are still very real people; eking out a life for themselves and their family the best way they know how. They work hard, but they also know how to relax and enjoy life, taking it one minute at a time. They're very ignorant of the rest of the world, yet still friendly in their own way. Nobody does very well under the French education system, yet they're still intelligent and resourceful. They suffer from many health problems because of lack of sanitation and nutrition, but they are strong and resilient anyways. Being there helped me to understand what my sister, and most overseas volunteers, have to sacrifice and go through each day. Guinea is not for the faint of heart! Seriously. It is extremely difficult to live in, even as a third-world country. I admired the way that my sister stood up to merchants and taxi drivers trying to rip us off because we're white. She endures their ridicule and amusement when she speaks their native language. She's changed a lot and become much tougher. She's not phased by some things that she'd dislike at home! Peace Corps volunteers leave their money, their home, and their lifestyle to work in an often completely thankless job, trying to help the people of the world. I'm not sure that I could do it, so next time you talk to a Peace Corps volunteer (such as my sister), give them some props!

Strangers in a Strange Land

Last week, my family, or more specifically, my dad and sister Kathryn, came to visit me in Guinea. After anxiously awaiting their arrival, they finally came down the ramp and I burst into tears of joy. I couldn't believe they were actually in Guinea (and neither could they). It's been almost 10 months since I left the United States. Ten months since I've seen my family and my friends. Their coming to visit was an amazing treat. They brought over 50lbs of America with them in food, clothes and shoes! But more importantly, they saw extreme poverty for the first time and what life is really like in Africa.

When you make plans, Guinea gets in the way. This was one of the first things my family learned upon arrival. They also learned the useful arts of sitting, squishing, drinking water out of a plastic bag, bucket bathing, hand washing laundry, and last but not least, they dipped their toes into the pool that is the Susu language. But I'll let them tell you all about it. . .

[The following are excerpts from what my dad had to say about Guinea. Sadly, my sister didn't send me anything in time for me to put it in this week's blog.]

We visited Christine in Guinea. What a wonderful experience! I say wonderful wishing for a better word, but it was full of wonder. It is wonderful how very differently life transpires in Guinea in comparison to America. One of the many things that struck me in Guinea was the difference between Conakry and the less populated areas. The big town was generally filthy and dangerous, with little greenery in sight. The country and villages seemed to have much more spacious homes; they were far slower paced, with much more interpersonal communication. Am I biased toward rural areas? Absolutely. But this is true nonetheless. [In addition] children learn from birth the importance of family and community. They place a huge emphasis on being close to loved ones, asking about their well being, and supporting the extended family. Guineans pride themselves on their hospitality. They lavishly share the meals they have with those around. And they assume others will do the same for them.

[When it comes to resources] Guinea has the largest deposits of bauxite in the world. Bauxite is the raw material from which we produce aluminum. In the locations I visited, bauxite is everywhere. It paves the roads, comprises the stones for fences, walls, and road beds. During the dry season, the orange and red dust from bauxite permeates everything. Although bauxite lies on the surface of the earth through Lower Guinea, I never saw a bauxite mine. Further south, in the heart of the jungle, Guinea boast the world’s 2nd largest deposits of iron ore. Christine gave me a specimen of ore she collected. It looks to be a type of specular hematite, but is weakly magnetic. So it probably has traces of magnetite as well. These iron oxides are higher grades of ore than the more common deposits of pyrite (“fools gold”), which are high in sulphur. The iron deposits lie directly beneath the heart of the rainforest region, native home to primates and elephants. There are also diamonds and gold in Guinea. But the most obvious wealth I saw was their exotic woods. It was everywhere. Guineans use the spectacularly colored, fine grained, wood for the most unworthy of purposes such as construction lumber and (gasp) charcoal. For example, the ladder leading to the crawl space below Christine’s roof is in her bathroom. She will never use it. House guests will never see it. But it is probably 20 board feet of solid red rosewood (or something of similar color and consistency). They use the most highly prized woods, always solid, for chairs, doors, tables, bowls, everything. And they never realize any of these items, sold new in America, would fetch months, or even years of their local salary. Exotic wood from the tropics is as common and base in Guinea as pasteboard here.

My family being here was like looking at myself in a mirror for the first time since being here, and I didn't like everything I saw. It was difficult realizing that I've become an even more selfish person, which I attribute to my increased independence. I've become an angry person, and I'm always complaining about something. In the States, I never would have screamed at or openly mocked someone to get my way, but here I do it with alarming frequency. I guess what the mirror revealed wasn't all bad. My family pointed out how out-going I've become and how many friends I've made in my village. All of the children here love me, even when I don't give them candy (which says something). They saw me teach,and even though they found it extremely boring, they believe I'm making a difference and truly helping my students. They saw how strong I've become and how stubborn. I bet my mom didn't think I could be more stubborn!

Saying “goodbye” and not getting on the plane with them has proved to be one of the hardest things I've done so far. I really want to go home! I really miss all the wonderful people back at home, not to mention, the ease of which one can live there. Say what you will, I will really appreciate how convenient things are. They fact that i'll hopefully be home in August for a few weeks keeps me going. When it comes to Dad and Kathryn, I know it was really hard for them to leave me in Guinea, after seeing my life and what I put up with on a daily basis. I know they are proud, and they are already trying to plan another visit to Guinea! They had a great time, and learned a lot, which they are already sharing with friends back at home. Life changing? Probably, but you'll have to ask them.  

Sometimes I have days where I want to pack up  my bags and return to the land of wealth and luxury. Every PC volunteer has those days. However, whenever the going gets tough, there are always moments that remind me why I'm here, and why I can't leave.

I was walking home from school when one of my best and brightest students started complaining about the absence of their teachers, and the fact that the teachers aren't helping them get ready for the high school entrance exam. Last year, the teachers held tutoring sessions months before the exam, but so far, I'm the only one who has offered tutoring sessions. My student told me, "Madame, you are the only one fighting for us, and we really thank you for that." Talk about a reason to stay! All it took was that one sentence and I was reminded of my reason for coming here and why I can't leave yet!

Sorry for the late post and the fact that it's so short! I'm in the capital, Conakry, and just dropped my family off at the airport! Hopefully I'll be able to blog about their visit next week

Clean Drinking Water for Guinea?

In Guinea, as in most of Africa, there are two seasons; the rainy season and the dry season, each lasting around six months. During the rainy season, as you would expect, it rains a lot. At least once a day. During the month of August, it does nothing but rain. Laundry is out of the question, as is doing much of anything. During the dry season, it's dry. When I say dry, I mean no rain, no moisture, nothing. The wells and the streams dry up, and layers upon layers of dust build up on everything. Right now we are almost at the end of the dry season, and I'm really looking forward to the rains! It has rained twice since the end of rainy season in October. The first was a 30 minute shower back in December, the second was a five minute sprinkle that occurred two months ago. I was sound asleep when suddenly I heard rain falling on the roof. I jumped out of bed, ran outside, and stood in the rain. It was 2 am. Sadly, it was over all too soon so I climbed back into bed. Since then, it hasn't rained a DROP, although rainy season will officially start in about six weeks.

The six month gap of no rain has a huge impact on water security here. When the wells dry up, which they do around March or April, people are forced to used water sources that might not be as clean resulting in more sicknesses. The well that is next to my house is just about finished and it will remain dried up until the month of May. Fortunately, in the bigger villages like mine, we have pumps that bring up clean water from further down. In the smaller villages, they are often forced to drink contaminated water, which then then attempt to filter using a contraption using sand and the leg of a pair of jeans. 

So, what can be done about this problem? Well, I recently went to a training held in a suburb of Conakry, where I learned how to make a Biosand Water Filter (designed by CAWST). These filters, in the field, last forever, and remove around 80 percent of the bacteria, viruses, and other nasty things you find in the water here. They are fairly easy to make. You pour concrete into the mold, and then you fill it with layers of gravel and sand. The only substantial cost is getting the mold made. I am hoping to work with fellow volunteers Kelly and Sarah to start making and distributing the filters to people in need. The group that we worked with have been doing this project for about a year, and have given approximately 60 water filters to neighbors in the surrounding area. After the training, we walked around to look at the filters, and amazingly, almost ever single one was being used! The people with filters had nothing but good things to say about them. Since they started using the filters, they've gotten sick less often. I was really encouraged after going to this training! The water filters are useful, durable, easy to use, and immediately begin improving the lives of those who are using them!

Step One : The mold is oiled, and put together. Plastic tubing where water comes out is placed in the mold

Step Two: Concrete is mixed - cement, sand, gravel, water, and lots of work!

Step Three: Concrete is poured into the mold. The mold is beaten with a hammer to get all the air bubbles out. In the US, this process is done by a machine which vibrates and gets all the air bubbles out . 

Step Four : Concrete is set to dry for 18 hours, and now the filter looks like this. 

Step Five : Fill the filter with gravel and sand, and give to someone in need!