America is John Galt (part 1)
Guinea Worm Week could have just as easily been called give whitey the run around week. Actually a lot of the white PCVs here throw the word whitey around a lot. It is a curious thing.
I. Some Background:
Guinea Worm is almost eradicated in Burkina Faso. In 1990, there were some 42,000 reported cases in the country. Last year, there were only 30. This is largely in part because of the Carter Center, an NGO started by Jimmy Carter. The Carter Center in Burkina is pulling out but remains active in places like Sudan, which has the most reported cases in the world right now, over 6,000.
(I personally have a whole lot of respect for the Carter Center)
The number of cases in Burkina might only be at 30, but 16 of these were in the same village, the village of Queeni, a village of maybe a little over 1,000 people in the direction of Kaya.
Four of the 16 cases were not contained in the past year in that village, meaning that four villagers infected with the worm growing for 9-12 months inside them before coming out of the skin looking to lay its eggs in the water, they probably went out and stuck their feet in ponds around Queeni. People drink pond water in Queeni. Thus the cycle is allowed to continue.
II. Disclaimer
This is such a complicated issue, and I feel like I have spent a lot of breath already attempting to scratch the surface in writing. It has been getting harder and harder for me to impart my frame of reference into words that people at home will understand. I dont want this to sound like the Peace Corps writing Ive read. I dont want it to sound like a call for attention, an expose of how wonderful my experience here was, and how wonderful I am for doing it and being here.
But it is so very hard for me to put into words for Americans these days. Ive been thinking a lot about what it means to be an American lately, particularly an American who is little by little losing ties to the States and becoming Burkinabe. To be a Burkinabe is to assume a mostly tacky and dramatic identity.
If I decide to stop writing in this blog, I hope that people will understand my reasons.
III. Courtney
I thought I wanted Courtney's job. She was a PCV here for three years (third year she trained PCVs). Now she is on a six month contract with the Carter Center.
The idea is still very attractive to me. I know several people who have had such contracts now. I like the idea of seeing the the flip side of development work as people say, and I really like the idea of being able to put so much money away in a short period of time, because they pay you a stateside wage and then you live here for nothing. I could pay for my student loans. I could be home again for Christmas.
Honestly, Peace Corps experience in a place like Burkina is throwing a lot of doors open it seems. Maybe this is premature for me to say, but I know a number of people who have COSed or even ETed these days and I dont know anyone who isnt doing something that sounds unattractive career wise.
IV. The Situation
It felt good to be back on the Mossi plateau, an odd sort of homecoming to thatched roofs and mud structures. My Moore came out of hiding.
We were going to break up into teams of three as it turned out and hand out filters to the villagers, filters for buckets/canaries (village buckets made of mud), plus sleeves for bottles and straws. All of them had nylon on them and the idea was that if we could get people to use them correctly when drawing pond water we would get them to avoid the worm as well.
People who drink pond water because it is much more convenient, out in the bush it might be the only thing available for miles and miles. We would give them these filters and show them how to use them correctly.
I ended up getting paired in a group of four with Courtney, and two villageois. One of the villageois was very dynamic. Our neighborhood actually had 12 of the reported 16 cases. We were going to the source.
Courtney was like a prayer to watch. She is the kind of person who doesnt hesitate to give the kid with unknown disability a filtering straw, even when it is very unclear whether he understood well enough to know what was going on. She is the kind of person who doesnt hesitate to go comfort the Puhl girl who got her hair pulled by her mother for quitting work and coming to watch the sensibilization. She is the kind of person who picks up babies and considers the well being of goats.
IV. The Puhls
The Puhls are so elegant. I am so much so intrigued by them.
To be continued... (I need to take a bit of a break I think.)
I. Some Background:
Guinea Worm is almost eradicated in Burkina Faso. In 1990, there were some 42,000 reported cases in the country. Last year, there were only 30. This is largely in part because of the Carter Center, an NGO started by Jimmy Carter. The Carter Center in Burkina is pulling out but remains active in places like Sudan, which has the most reported cases in the world right now, over 6,000.
(I personally have a whole lot of respect for the Carter Center)
The number of cases in Burkina might only be at 30, but 16 of these were in the same village, the village of Queeni, a village of maybe a little over 1,000 people in the direction of Kaya.
Four of the 16 cases were not contained in the past year in that village, meaning that four villagers infected with the worm growing for 9-12 months inside them before coming out of the skin looking to lay its eggs in the water, they probably went out and stuck their feet in ponds around Queeni. People drink pond water in Queeni. Thus the cycle is allowed to continue.
II. Disclaimer
This is such a complicated issue, and I feel like I have spent a lot of breath already attempting to scratch the surface in writing. It has been getting harder and harder for me to impart my frame of reference into words that people at home will understand. I dont want this to sound like the Peace Corps writing Ive read. I dont want it to sound like a call for attention, an expose of how wonderful my experience here was, and how wonderful I am for doing it and being here.
But it is so very hard for me to put into words for Americans these days. Ive been thinking a lot about what it means to be an American lately, particularly an American who is little by little losing ties to the States and becoming Burkinabe. To be a Burkinabe is to assume a mostly tacky and dramatic identity.
If I decide to stop writing in this blog, I hope that people will understand my reasons.
III. Courtney
I thought I wanted Courtney's job. She was a PCV here for three years (third year she trained PCVs). Now she is on a six month contract with the Carter Center.
The idea is still very attractive to me. I know several people who have had such contracts now. I like the idea of seeing the the flip side of development work as people say, and I really like the idea of being able to put so much money away in a short period of time, because they pay you a stateside wage and then you live here for nothing. I could pay for my student loans. I could be home again for Christmas.
Honestly, Peace Corps experience in a place like Burkina is throwing a lot of doors open it seems. Maybe this is premature for me to say, but I know a number of people who have COSed or even ETed these days and I dont know anyone who isnt doing something that sounds unattractive career wise.
IV. The Situation
It felt good to be back on the Mossi plateau, an odd sort of homecoming to thatched roofs and mud structures. My Moore came out of hiding.
We were going to break up into teams of three as it turned out and hand out filters to the villagers, filters for buckets/canaries (village buckets made of mud), plus sleeves for bottles and straws. All of them had nylon on them and the idea was that if we could get people to use them correctly when drawing pond water we would get them to avoid the worm as well.
People who drink pond water because it is much more convenient, out in the bush it might be the only thing available for miles and miles. We would give them these filters and show them how to use them correctly.
I ended up getting paired in a group of four with Courtney, and two villageois. One of the villageois was very dynamic. Our neighborhood actually had 12 of the reported 16 cases. We were going to the source.
Courtney was like a prayer to watch. She is the kind of person who doesnt hesitate to give the kid with unknown disability a filtering straw, even when it is very unclear whether he understood well enough to know what was going on. She is the kind of person who doesnt hesitate to go comfort the Puhl girl who got her hair pulled by her mother for quitting work and coming to watch the sensibilization. She is the kind of person who picks up babies and considers the well being of goats.
IV. The Puhls
The Puhls are so elegant. I am so much so intrigued by them.
To be continued... (I need to take a bit of a break I think.)