6: I awoke to a dull pain that ran from my ribs to my pelvis along my right abdomen. An all too familiar pain these days. Wonder what intestinal ailment lies in wait for my this time. Refusing to get out of bed just yet I listen to the morning sounds. A loud cry, wailing really, which only breaks for a deep chested cough. My first instinct is that it’s a lost goat, their cries sound eerily like a baby’s, but the cough makes me wonder. Do goats get chest colds?
9: I go through my normal morning routine and am now forcing myself to go to the CSPS. It’s been almost 3 weeks since I’ve been there and I MUST go say hello and show that I’m back from IST. On my way out the door I wonder what is the point, what am I going to do there? My Etude is over so I can no longer spend my time studying the CSPS documents or asking the staff questions for my report, so now what? I suppose I now should be spending my time creating project plans and implementing them, but I only have 4 or so weeks left in this village and what can I really get done in that amount of time without a motivated counterpart? Even if I had a really good idea I would need someone in the village to help me, especially with the language barriers. That’s the Peace Corps philosophy anyways for sustainability, we train others so that they can continue on in our absence. The CSPS staff can’t be bothered to attend a project design workshop with me, much less actually spending time on a project. My time would be better spent studying French.
On my bike ride to the CSPS I debate flat out asking the Major why I’m here. Why the village requested a Peace Corps volunteer? Did they not understand that PCVs work WITH the village, not FOR the village? Every project we do is suppose to be with a counterpart to capacity build. We don’t develop the village, we aid them in developing themselves, so to speak. And why a health volunteer? Every time I’ve asked what the health issues are that they would like to address I get empty answers. “Je ne sais pas” When I asked what types of projects they would like to see happen I was told that I’d find out at my IST formation what to do, as if the Peace Corps dictates our projects. Maybe they don’t understand, that’s not how this works. They have to work with me to identify a priority health issue and we work together to combat it. If the issue is not perceived, then behavior change will never occur. It’s like addiction, the first step is admitting your are an addict. The first step is admitting your child in malnourished, that malaria is a serious problem, that diarrhea can kill your baby. To these people illnesses occur and are treated and that’s that. Nothing seems to be of concern or of need of addressing.
10: For the first time I was asked to help Madame Sylvie with baby weighing. I’ve been trying for 6 months, 160 days, to help weigh babies. My interest is in nutrition and my ideal project is with malnourished children. Usually volunteers come away from baby weighing feeling accomplished- they actually did some hands on work- but Sylvie has a way to making me feel incompetent and useless. She is impatient with me, with everyone really, and gets annoyed when I miss a beat. Numbers in French, Burkinabe names, foreign paperwork, her speaking to the women in Moore- we’re not trained to do this. No, I don’t know how to give a polio vaccine or take blood pressure.
I’m sitting next to her, writing numbers into each baby’s Carte de Sante as they are weighed and measured, trying to see the charts and scale since it’s easier for me if I see the numbers opposed to trying to hear her mumble them. The growth chart says something like 100% is perfect, 85 and above is good, and the 80% bracket has been whitened out. What should say something along the lines of caution your child is falling behind, bordering malnutrition, now has “normal” scribbled in. 75% and 70% fall into moderately malnourished, below that is severely malnourished. 80%, Sylvie tells me, 80%. Baby after baby is 80%. “Normal”. She doesn’t tell the women what percentile their children are in, nor does she explain how to feed their children healthy diets; she doesn’t say or explain anything at all. Just moves on to the next child. Finally there is a child that is clearly in the 75% bracket. The child hasn’t been weighed in 4 months and from my reading of the scale has lost weight, but according to Sylvie has gained a little. She looks at the growth chart, 75%. I’m looking over her shoulder. She hesitates and looks at the chart again, finds height then weight-still 75%. She says something to the mother and feels the babies legs for swelling. The are speaking in Moore and from the mother’s body language I’d guess she is explaining why the child is under weight – money is sort, it’s not the harvest season, the child is having problems weaning?- Who knows. Maybe she pleads that the baby will be better next time. Sylvie makes a clicking noise in the back of her throat and nods her head in agreement; an okay, I understand. 80% she tells me. No malnourished children for village this week.
13: A flock of guinea fowl scurry along the path as I bike home. A group of young boys play with a bouncy ball in my kitchen as I make lunch. Not my usual lunch-time visitors, but still children I know from next door. I think they like my kitchen because of the cement floor and walls, good for the bouncing. Sometimes they take to just sprawling out on the floor. I think the cement feels cool to them, different from their mud floors.
14: I retreat to my room and shut the door. Shut out the children for a little while. The harmattan winds are blowing strong today and I apparently have allergies. I’m sure it’s from all the dust. Upon returning home yesterday there was a layer of dust over my entire house, over everything. Like in a movie where someone goes into an old abandoned house where white sheets cover the furniture, pick up a book, blow, and a puff of dirt clouds into the air. Only I didn’t have the foresight to cover my belongings in white sheets. I was only gone for 17 days. The majority of yesterday was spent uncovering my life, beating the dirt out of my bed sheets and whatnot. The children have left foot prints on my kitchen floor.
16: After a repose I am ready to face the world again. Plus I am not sure if my tutor is coming today and he always thinks I’m not home if my door is closed. No sir, sometimes I just need some peace and quite. Within minutes a few small children are at my door. “Je demand un bon bon” they say over and over again. In the last 6 months I have never just given away candy, it has to be earned. If you give things out freely then your not viewed as a real person, but as a vending machine. After a few responses of “no, I don’t have candy. I don’t give candy,” I take to just ignoring them. After about 5 minutes they find something more interesting and go away.
18:30: It has been overcast all day and now it too cloudy to see the sun set. No golden hour today, the last strands of sunlight slowly dimming, a warning time to wrap up what you were doing before the darkness comes. Today just grey and instantly dark. I’d say it was going to storm, but the rains won’t come again until after May. The wind is cold and without the sun taking a bucket bath outside would be miserable. Even if I heated up the bath water. My stove will not light and I suspect my gas tank is empty. A lunch time discovery. Shall be an interesting problem to fix as I cannot get a new tank in village. Will tackle that one tomorrow. For now just worry about dinner. In a world where there is no place to buy pre-made food, or fruits or vegetables or bread, what can you eat without a stove?
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