Disease

My Peace Corps service has had its fair share of diseases. Skin disease, viruses, infections, diarrhea but no vomiting. I have never really been sicker for more than a month and certainly cannot claim my self to be among the sickest volunteers in country. I have a few friends who belong to that group though. So, with out further distraction here are a list of some of the diseases I have attracted while being here in Senegal.

Giardia lamblia (synonymous with Giardia intestinalis, Lamblia intestinalis and Giardia duodenalis) is a flagellated protozoan parasite that colonizes and reproduces in the small intestine, causing giardiasis. Thanks wikipedia.
Giardia is a common intenstinal parasite volunteers recieve from coming in to contact with drinking water or food that has been contaminated with fecal matter. In my case, I think I got it from drinking unfiltered river water. And so the story goes.
I arrived in 2010 right at the beginning of the harvest season and therefore, had a lot to go see in a short amount of time. My father one day decided it was time for me to see the rice fields. We set off at around 10 am and began our walk to the fields (5km). I thought, “well if we are walking, my dads about 70, and we didn'tget an early start then, the rice fields musn't be that far. My father and I ended up resting for about an hour at the fields, ate lunch, rested again for an hour then decided we better get going during the hotest part of the day.
Not to brag but I am fairly fit and didn't have a problem with the way things we going I just wished I had brought more water. An hour and a half after leaving the normal fields, crosing two rivers, and greetig the Basari people (Animist) my father and I had arrived at the rice fields and I was out of water. Along the way we had cut down some palm frawns in which I later found out were used to create a perimeter around the field in order to deter birds from eating the ripe rice. Our work took us to sunset.
As we set off for home my father washed nd got a drink from the river. He took my bottle and filled it for me from the river. Thinking very little about diseases I drank the cool, crisp, clear water and it quenched my thirst. Later that night I thought about how I may have put myself in compromise but I didn't pay for it for another week.
Giardia started with a full day of non-stop diarrea in which I couldn't leave my hut because of the bowel movements and cramping my stomach. The next few days it got a bit better and I biked in to Kedougou for a meeting. During the meeting is when the sulfur farts and burps began. The cramping and bloating also incerased making me feel as if I had to constantly poop. When I could poop it was yellow, mucusy, and smelly. I knew I had giardia with these threee symptoms of sulfur burps, sulfur farts, and yellow mucusy poop.
The remedy began with calling med and explaining my situation. They immediately recognized my symptoms and put me on a 3 day medication that cleared me up good. Since my battle with giardia I haven't had any real intestinal problems. I know carry a small bottle of bleach around to purify my water. 2-3small drops in to the river water and it becomes potable water in 45-60 minutes time.

Dermatophytosis or ringworm is a clinical condition caused by fungal infection of the skin in humans, pets such as cats, and domesticated animals such as sheep and cattle. Thank you again wikipedia.
My first time with such a fungal infection came in my first month being in Senegal. It was the tail end of the rainy season which means that Thies and Dakar become mass sewers for all kinds of fun bacteria and fungai. I was in my trainging village when I noticed my foot and and were very itchy and had a raised line underneath my skin. I didn't think much of for the first few days hoping it would just go away. It didn't and by day 5 the worm looking bump had now double in size to about an inch long.
This now begame semi-concerning because I didn't know what it was, why it was growing and whether or not I should call med. I didn't want to start off by sounding like a cry baby my first month into country. After a brief consultation with my language teacher I called the doctor. She reassured me that it was minor and very common for volunteers to recieve these fungal infections during the wet season. She perscribed another medication to be taken over 3 days which took care of the problem immediately.
My next confrontation with fungal skin infections wasn't so minor but did come in the wet season again almost a year after my first. This time the fungus was on my crotch, peck, arm, and shoulder and again I didn't really think much of it. I did start my own treatment of fungal cream which is taught to us by Peace Corps. I didn't hawever think the bit on my crotch was fungal i thought it was a rash from biking.
The fungus spread like a bat out of hell. With in a week I had a softball diametere red ring aronud my private part and it hard spread to both arms and multiple spots on my stomach. At this current time I was at the beach having some quality relaxation time and didn't want to ruin it. I tried washing multiple times a day, giving them direct sunlight, baby powder, and cream to stop the spreading. They sort of worked but I needed something more as the wet season wasn't even close to over.
Timing couldn't have been better, if it can ever be good to get an infection, because I had scheduled mymidservice medical check up later that week. Continuing my own treatment I waited for my appointment to consult the doctor. I wish i could have recorded his reaction when I asked him to look at my crotch and he saw just how bad it was. He went, “whoa!” and gave a sort of dsigusted bitter beer face. Not taking more than 15 seconds to assess my new friend he immediately gave me a perscription to take over 6 weeks for the numerous infections on my body including the beginning of staph under my armpit. Thank goodness the meds worked again and I have been jock itch free ever since.
Those are really the only shocking illnesses I have had. Others included bad colds and high fevers which get coupled along with the vibrant dreams caused by my malaria pills. I know of numerous other people who contract much more serious diseases such as meningitis, ecoli, and malaria. I've been fortunate and the medical staff has been more the willing to deal with any problem I bring to them. Including self induced illness. The worst of which and last of my stories is my stitches.
Coming back into my hut I began changing clothes and watering plants inorder to get off wuickly nd play soccer. I was on my way out my front door to water a citrus tree when my left foot caught the corner of my sheet metal door. The metal had risen off the wood frame just enough to slice my foot a good 2 inches in length and down to the bone.
After cursing for a while I opened my medical kit and began cleaning and badaging the wound. My brother came in to call me for soccer. Showing him my bone he began to pray and I told him I had to call Peace Corps. Peace Corps tld me to get on the earliest car I could to Dakar and start taking antibiotics. I followed orders to a T and got my self to Dakar with in a day. Med staff were waiting for me and immediately took me for x-rays and to get stitched up. The whole things from initial cut to stitching took less than 24 hours. It was amazing.
Again I can't stress how lucky I am and how happy I have been with Peace Corps Med staff.

Police

I'll try to keep this one short and sweet as I just dropped off my family at the Dakar airport and it's almost midnight. It was a beautiful two week holliday with the fam but, I think they'll agree, I need some rest.

So, here we go...... As you all know by now Africa is riddle with Aid, help, gifts, donations ,etc...etc..... Call it what you want. Senegal is no different in that 70% of the country's budget comes from foriegn aid. Yup thanks guys. Anyway, the story continues on a Saturday after I have finished one of my many radio shows. Ben, the volunteer living on top of the mountain Ilive next to, and I found out Mrs. Wade (President Wade's wife) was giving a speech on her relatively new campaign to eliminate HIV by some date. The goal is a bit ambitious but aren't all politicians.

While waiting for Mrs. Wade to arrive Ben and I got the bright idea to begin interviewing local agencies about what HIV is, how one gets it, how one can prevent it, and the contact information about the organizations trying to help spread the word about HIV. The day was goin well and Ben and I were on our way to collecting alot of good information to be broadcast on our next Peace Corps' radio emission.

Feeling happy with what we'd collected Ben and I assumed the positions and waited for Mrs. Wade. While waiting a small argument between a civilian and gendarme (Senegalese Police officer) broke out at the gate nearest us. The arguers were to far away for us to hear so we just shrugged it off and continued to wait. But the argument didn't stop and eventually some other people got involve, including one of the men we had interviewed.

I thought to myself, "that's strnage. Why would someone affiliated with a supporting organization be arguing with a police officer?" I let it go as the civilian was eventually let in and resumed his seat maybe two feet from Ben and I. Seconds later the police officer came back and leveled the civilian with one sift blow to the head. Fortunately it wasn't too lethal of a blow and the civilian quickly took defense. It was a good thing to because not only was the police officer he argued with beating him but two of his Army buddies ran in to get their few swift kicks in while he was on the ground. Ben and I wuickly backed away feeling absolutely useless as friends of the civilian and authorities began to brawl directly in front of us. It was incredible to see such violence break out with little to no ignition.

Maybe Ben and I should've taken a hint and left when this fight finally got resolved and the civilian was forced to leave the gathering while the police officer was permitted to stay and stand gaurd. The event carried on as if nothing happened. Until Mrs. Wade and her posse began showing up. People began pouring in and with it some were disallowed access to certain areas. One man didn't like this and began challenging authority. A small scuffle quickly began but resolved with nothing to brag about. Then, another man from the same crew began to challenge authority again. Mind you this is crew is supportive of Wade. This time the scuffle got a little out of hand adn roughly half the audience got involved. Fortunately, for Ben and I the choas swiftly moved to the streets and out of the fenced area we were standing in.

By this time Ben and I are a bit worried. Three fights at fairly close proximity and all being between the police and civilians. The events was beginning to drag on and we felt our safety was becoming increasingly at risk. We decided to leave as we had collected a lot of good material, we were hungry and there was cold chocolate milk near by. Our timing couldn't have been better. As we exited the gated area we passed a truck filled with police wearing riot gear and loading tear gas into their guns. Unbeknownst to us a small uprising had begun as we were leaving. We quickened our pace until we reached our friend Darrel's shop then, watched as things got a bit heated in the event we had just left.

Once things cooled down, Ben and I began our journey back to the Kedougou house. While walking to get our bikes I over heard some women talking about how disappointed they were with the event. They said it was broken by the war, that people weren't listening and the point was missed. They decided to leave because war cannot reside with peace and peace was what the event was supposed to be in. I couldn't agreee more and the actions of the police as well as the people opened my eyes to just how fast things, even simple ones like a talk about AIDs, can erupt into violence.

I'm not going to say this day's events are going to keep me from going to othe events but it has definitely prepared me for what can and may happen. In the end Ben and I put on a very informative radio show making me think that even with the fights that broke out at the event it still brought about more good than bad.

crime and Punishment

After a brief moment of contemplation, li hing mui (thanks mom) and socks for the feetzies (it's cold) I can now successfully try to entertain my readers with a not so happy story.

As many of you have no clue about I was robbed a few months ago while on a 3 day hiking trip. Yes, the trip was epic and yes I could see three countries from where I was standing but the return to my hut was not so epic. I was with my fellow volunteer, Ben, who stayed at my hut the night before our departure. As I entered the hut I immediately knew something was wrong.

My immediate instinct was to check for Ben's computer, he had left it in my hut not wanting to trek with it. I handed him the computer and told him to check to make sure everything was still there. Turning to the back door I discovered where the culprit had entered. I generally use a string to lock the back door of my hut. I thad worked for the year or so I'd been in village why would it fail now. That day I discovered it cut and I was able to freely open the back door.

I went into a rush. Ben told me everything was in his computer as I broke the news that my hut had been broken into. I went through all of my belongings which I now began to notice how out of place they were. Knic-knacks were strewn across my table, clothes on the floor, and buckets moved. I keep my hut fairly orderly to unsure minimal pest damage and cleanliness for visitors, it's not very big you know.

Anyway, I found that the money I had brought out to throw a party had been stolen (40,000 cfa), Ipod gone (neve realized how much I missed it till it was gone), voice recorder, solar charger, batteries, and 3 bars of soap. I screamed for my father to come over, not the best decision as unbeknownst to me the perp was still in village. My Dad, the village chief, came to my hut and I explained to him in very angry Pulaar what had happened. Then, my brother came over to tell me how sad he felt. I felt a little helpless but at the sametime at ease with what had been taken as it was mostly trivial things which could, if wanted, be replaced. My rage stemmed from the invasion of privacy and broken trust that had resulted from the theft.

A meeting was called and immediately my voice recorder emerged. I played for my Father and Uncle's present the recording I had done with my Father about compost 4 months earlier. How they didn't already know it was mine I don't know. They now believed me and told me Boubacar Diallo, a boy from Guinea who had been helping to farm some fields and staying in the village for roughly a month, had it and was taping people talking randomly in the village. Attempting to hatch out a plan in secrecy, something nearly impossible here especially when white person is involved, they set out to catch Boubacar.

Fail. Boubacar whether he heard me yell, my father call the meeting, or got suspicious when my brother took the voice recorder I don't know but he fled behind the fence into the bush with an excuse to poo. I hoped he pooed his pants. Ha!

Anyway, the chase began and my village was dedicated to catching him in a very non-chalant way. My Uncle who had house the boy took personal responsibility to the next morning at dawn ride 30 km to Kedougou to place a reoport than back 60 km into Guinea to place a report with all the villages on the border and the police. I saw him later that same day and bought him some cookies. Unfortunately, I felt all his hard work was a bit futile.

Morning came the next day and left. The afternoon brought some excitement as an old man said he saw him headin gotward Kedougou. The border patrol along with the forestry, because only the forestry has a motorcycle, left on pursuit. Nothing turned up and I went home a little bummed but my father had hope. He had called a Fatia, or done a religou offering with all the religous leaders and elders of the area to inform their people about the thief and to pray he gets caught or dies. Intense I know it gets better.

A few weeks pass and I am in Kedougou for a radio show. I'm packing to go back to village when I get a call from a number I don't know. I answer, "Alo?" -"Mamdou? It's me Malal. We caught Boubacar." Me - "What!? You caught him? Where? How?" Malal - " Come see. Come now. Tell your uncle in the market."

I left immediately to the police where nothing happened because the theft didn't occur in Kedougou. I asked them to tell the police in my area to bring the thief to kedougou (thinking of course that it was their job. I told them about it). Nothin happened because the police in my area don't have a car or motorcycle. So. I left ot village.

Arriving at around sunset I fonud Boubacar sitting with my grinning father. I asked what would happen. They told me to wait until my uncle came back so, I went to bathe. Boubacar wasn't tied up and didn't look hurt but he looked tired, sad, and a little remorseful. As I showered I thought about how he was just a kid who saw an opportunity to have something he may only be able to dream of (I don't mean this offensively. Look into Guinea's status). I began to forgive the boy not in a religous sense but in a okay he did wrong he needs to pay but not necessarily by going to jail.

My uncle arrived and the meeting commenced, if you could call it a meeting. It consisted of humiliating Boubacar, telling him how shameful his actions were, and asking me to talk to him and him to talk to me. I wasn't having it and just wanted things to be decided and over. Unforunately, due to the time and Tebaski (a major Islam holliday) taking Boubacar to jail was out of the question for the next few days atleast, until Tebaski passed (2 days away).

Their first choice Tie him up to a tree or post until the holliday passed then take him to jail. He'd eat, he'd sleep, he just wouldn't be able to go any where. I wasn't a fan givent he immediate ridicule allready givent o the boy i could only immagine what would happen if he were tied up. Next and final option, Saria. Saria in Pulaar literally mean law and until today I didn't know what that meant. So, after some discussion with my advisor and my father and i agreed that this Saria would be the quickest and most acceptable puishment that would make everyone in the village feel like justice was brought.

Saria began at midnight with the showing of all the clothes Boubacar had bought with the stolen money. He then removed the stolen clothes he was wearing, in front of everyone, and put on the slothes he wore when he arrived. He was asked what would happen to him if he were caught stealing in Guinea. He said, "they ask you whether you like your foot or hand better?" My father now weilding a machete than asked, "well which do you prefer? Bring it forward?" Boubacar chose his left hand and my father raised the machete high and borught it down swiftly. Laughter erupted as my father stopped his swing just short of Boubacar's hand. The verbal abuse continued.

Until, one of my uncle's grew tired and called for the children to get sticks. Excited the children each brought a stick. A discussion broke out whether to tie Boubacar up. Thankfully, the decision was no. My unlce than, like something out of a movie, order the boy to sit on a map. He grabbed a the first stick and began beating Boubacar until it broke. Boubacar began crying and screaming with pain. The first stick broke and a second was taken swiftly. These step were repeated until Boubacar leapt with a yelp and began pleading for it to stop. He was ordered again to lay down on the mat. Compling Boubacar suffered again until the fourth stick broke and while the fifth came down on him he leapt again and plead for it to stop. They didn't so he bolted for the door. He ran through the village as the villagers followed for fear he might steal their bikes. Apparently beating and ridiculing is Saria.

I was astonished and intrigued. The people of my village thought nothing of it. They even joked and laughed at how he yelled in pain and congratulated my uncle on a good beating. The whole next day I heard how well my uncle did and how Boubacar cried. I also slept with my bike in the security of my locked hut and woke the next morning to do laundry.

Still shocked I didn't leave the village until the afternoon the next day. I was gone for maybe 3 hours and came back to find my back yard a bit of a mess. I thought, “Damn cat” and continued on my way to bathe. Then the greeting of, “Hey Boubacar is by the forage. Did you see him?” I replied no I hadn't and that you're not funny. Then, I began to think and opened my eyes. My back yard was a mess and there was an interesting space in the clothes I left to dry in the sun. That little SOB came back and tried to break into my hut again. Finding it was locked he took my shirt instead. I'm not going to lie I was scared and slept the next few night with my doors locked for fear of what he may try at night.

Boubacar showed his face in and around the area for the next 3 days before finally being spotted heading towards Kedougou. I haven't heard anything since but everyone is on the look out. I now lock my doors when ever I leave, sucks, but I do. I learned my village really does care for me and will go through a lot to make things right. I also learned that I should've shared the things I hid from my village (Ipod) because then they would've known it was mine and things wouldn't have gone so far. In the end, we have moved on and learned. Boubacar is no longer welcome in any part of my community and I know people are looking out after me.