Iron Chef Challenge: World Malaria Day

World Malaria Day

Iron chef challenge:  You have ten minutes at flag ceremony (morning assembly) to explain malaria prevention to 250 primary school kids in a foreign language with three bed nets, four teachers, and a poster. Secret ingredient: two mosquito cutouts.

Thursday, April 25^th, was World Malaria Day. This whole month is Blog About Malaria Month. But the kids don’t care about that, they want to play in the nets.

So how do you get the attention of 250 children in grades 1-8, aged anywhere from 5 years old to 18? Let them play in the nets.

After a brief explanation of the number one disease in North Gondar Zone, and how you get it, we moved straight to prevention. Clock is ticking chef!

The cheapest and easiest way to prevent malaria is to sleep under a bed net. If you have a large family, give preference to pregnant women and young children. But just having a net in your home is not enough.

Choosing three volunteers, I chased them around with a mosquito cutout.  Pro tip: It’s always a good play to make a fool of yourself. This kid below was given a bed net but told not to use it, like many families who leave them unopened.

He got bit! When he travelled off the high rock

Nets are distributed every three years in this zone, but only to low-lying areas. With global warming, the mosquitoes have started to move higher, to areas not officially deemed “malaria zones.” The misconception still exists that highland areas in Gondar, even a few feet of difference up the mountain, means you won’t get sick.

The second kid was given an opened package, but wrapped himself up like a mummy. So you have a net, but if it’s not hung properly it’s not going to do any good. Sleeping with skin next to a net, the mosquito can still bite through the holes. He found that out the fun way.

Looks comfy in there!

This clever girl had her teachers “hang” the net up properly. My mosquito wasn’t able to get her.

Bimbee attack!

Time’s almost up chef! Bring in your backup… aka the school director who can translate my bad grammar into something coherent.

Really getting into it

Phew! There you have it, malaria prevention in ten minutes. But it didn’t stop there, later I co-opted an English class (cross sector learning!) and at the end of the day the biology teacher said he had the kids labeling the parts of the mosquito, using the World Malaria Day theme for science education.

So while doing a bit of malaria prevention awareness for the kids I was able to practice my Amharic, model some active teaching, and motivate other teachers. Not too shabby, chef.

Some Random Occurrences

So when you live day to day life out of your element you tend to run into some pretty funny and awkward situations. Mostly awkward, but that could just be me.

Here’s a summary of the past month in anecdote form:

-          Having a session with my tutor a bird poops all over my fidel chart, the Amharic symbols. Reasons why I love my tutor? Her response: Yup, that’s just about how I feel about fidel. Me too, girl, me too.

-          Speaking of birds, during a presentation at a college about the Aids Resource Center a pigeon bursts into the room, bounces off my head and crashes into the closed window. Shenanigans ensue. I don’t think those kids will forget our organization very soon.

-          Walking down the street the other day I had a city meets country moment. On the second floor landing of an apartment building there was a cow, just chilling. What the how? How did he get up there?

-          Walking home a little girl throws the contents of a chamber pot out on to the street—on to my feet. Great, a urine shower. As incensed as I was, the poor girl had the most ardent, cutest apology. Thank goodness the water was on that day when I got back.

-          After a presentation at a high school, similar to the pigeon story, I thoroughly embarrassed myself by attempting to give my schpeel in Amharic. Turns out it didn’t matter. Two teenage girls came up to me later and told me I was cool. Doesn’t matter what country you live in, teenage girl approval is always awesome.

-          Twice in one week I had “good posture!” shouted at me on the street. Once from a woman, once from a man. Either this is a phrase people learn in English class here or years of my mother telling my not to slouch has officially paid off.

-          If I don’t hear 3 “I love yous” 15 “Conjo!”s (beautiful) 21 “Kayo”s (the red one, a term of endearment/come on) and a couple “fuck yous” I count it a slow a day. However, the best shout I ever got came from a little toddler in a grizzly bear onsie with the ears sewed to the hood. Rolling around on the sidewalk making race car noises, I walked by and he immediately jumped up and screamed “ I LOVE YOU!” The one time I don’t have my camera!!

-          Oh the joys of second languages. Peace Corps, when read phonetically (Amharic is a phonetic language) reads Peace Corpse, prompting the very reasonable question by a coworker: “So corpse… are you guys like Peace Zombies?” No sir, no we are not, but close. I can see the confusion, as I haven’t bathed in few days.

So between the mundane and the busy, happens the ridiculous. More to come I’m sure.

An Ocean Away

What do you do when you get scary news from home? You’re not prepared for it. You’re the one who signed up to live in a developing country, learn a new language, be completely out of your element—the life adventure. If it happens to you, you get a good story or your family kinda maybe expected it. But when scary, dangerous, bad things happen at home you feel blindsided. Helpless. Disconnected and unable to communicate. The tables got turned and homesickness takes over. Not that you being at home would make anything different, or better. But for some reason you feel like you should be there. Everyone wants to comfort you here, but it’s not their home they are separated from. Or worse, you break down in public and no one knows why. Whether it’s big news or small, grand scale or in the family it’s not supposed to go this way. You’re supposed to worry about me.

Even when I know everyone is safe and sound it’s like I’ve been holding my breath too long. The last exhale of relief becomes a gasp of tears turning to embarrassment and anger and all the other stages.

I haven’t cried since I got to Ethiopia. Not when I got sick, not when I got mugged, not when I was irritated by everything because of some medication unbalances. But those were my issues. I may not have been able to control the situations, but I could control the reaction. When some crazy people bomb a city I have lived in or near for over nine years of my life, the city where I became an American, threatening some of my closest friends and family, I feel like I’m living on another planet.

I woke up to a bus crash outside my house at 6:30am. No one was hurt, but it was a school bus. Pretty chaotic, pretty scary. Five minutes later I get a call from a fellow volunteer, with Boston ties, telling me what happened at an event we would have both been at, had been at for the past straight years when we lived there. I wasn’t ready for it.

Marathon Monday, it’s better than Christmas. Or it was during university. Kegs and Eggs. Now Heartbreak Hill has another shade of meaning.

When you sign up to spend two years of your life away from friends and family in a developing country, living, working, creating new relationships they warn you that you might have “FOMO” or fear of missing out. People get married, have babies, new jobs, move cities. And as much as you think you’re returning to the same place two years later there is no way that can be true. But you feel that way. So when something like this happens it reminds you that the world is turning back at home. Things did not freeze when you left, as much as you would have liked them to. More things change that are good. Some things change that are bad.

I’m lucky to have my friends and family be safe this time.  And their support while I’m here has been awesome. I don’t know what I wouldn’t do without updates and emails and letters.  And I pray that they will continue to stay safe, as I’m sure they do for me.

Day and Weekend Trips of Gondar – Part 1

So what is a girl to do when she lives in a hub town? I can’t get out of site to do my “banking” or “buy vegetables” or “insert other excuse to leave your village here.” Of course these are all real reasons people leave site, and I’m very lucky to have these amenities in Gondar, but when I want to get outta town for a bit there are plenty of day and weekend trips of the adventure and rejuvenation variety around.

#1: Bahar Dar

Bahar Dar is a lake town about 3.5 hours by minibus away. It sits on the southern end of Lake Tana surrounded by monasteries on islands. The city is the regional headquarters for the Amhara Peace Corps Office, and boasts some nice lakeside resorts. It also has an abundance of fruit and vegetables I can’t get in Gondar (read- strawberries!). The Kuriftu resort is the favorite spot for Peace Corps volunteers to get some sun and ice cream. Just don’t tell them I’m not a member!

The Kuriftu pool

#2: Gorgora

Gorgora is a small village on the north side of Lake Tana about a two hour drive from Gondar. And by two hour drive I mean a two hour span of “road” made out of what I can only assume to be cow paths, water erosion paths, and giant holes. Should have worn a sports bra.

But once you get there, there is a lovely little resort (Tim and Kim’s Village) run by two Dutch expats with some of the best cooking in the West Amhara region. There is also a monastery on the nearest island—thought it’s males only. However, we ladies were able to take out some canoes and meet some of the local fishermen. Fresh fish for dinner!

Canoe adventure

Sunning on Lake Tana

Tim and Kim’s Village in Gorgora

Papyrus fishing boats

Buying some fresh fish for dinner from the local guy in the middle of the lake

A Little Experiment

Malaria is the number one cause of mortality for adults in Gondar. Yet, almost no one seems to think it’s an issue. To be sure, there is a season for it (right after the rains), but if the numbers are correct almost 57 out of 1000 adults and 34 out of 1000 children under five years old will contract the disease in this city next fall. For a city estimated to be about 320,000 people, that means a lot of malaria cases.

April 25th is World Malaria Day (Happy Birthday David!). Along with the plethora of other diseases plaguing Sub-Saharan Africa (see Peace Corps Health volunteers all over the continent), these awareness campaigns tend to get lost in the mire of public health announcements. So I decided to get personal with it. As an example for the people on my compound I conducted a little experiment.

Kids, don’t try this at home, unless you are taking malaria profylaxis. Mine is a weekly called methlyquine (the dream inducing kind—it’s groovy man).

Every night I sleep under a treated mosquito net provided by Peace Corps. Last night, I decided to stick out one of my legs. If you had asked me a week ago, I would have said there aren’t any mosquitoes in my house. I don’t hear them when I sleep, and because I sleep under the net I don’t get bit. Here are the results:

Out of the net – I count 14 bites just in the photo!

Under the net – No Bites! just a few freckles

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These are not a model’s legs, no thanks to the angle of the photo, but let it be known I swathed on hydrocortisone cream for the next few days.

I don’t know if I changed any behaviors, but the next day after I poorly explained my “bimbee” bites to my compound mates, I saw a malaria net washed and drying out on the line. I’ll count that a success.

Net distributions are scheduled in towns every three years according the government health office. The next distribution in Gondar should be in about two years. If anything, I’m just going to keep asking about it. Malaria is one of those disease where if caught early it is easily treatable, if you don’t catch the fatal strain. But even more than treatment, prevention is simple—don’t get bit. And since malarial mosquitoes are most active at night, a bed net is one of the most effective and cheapest solutions.

My Bed Net – sometimes it feels like a princess canopy… if I pretend

Women First – 5K Down Bole

While everyone back home has been talking about marriage equality, here in Ethiopia us Peace Corps women lended our voices to a call for gender equality. While I’m feeling a little like I’m missing out on some big news and change back home, I feel priviledged to be part of the movement for women’s health and education out here in sub-Saharan Africa. Though it makes me sad that these are still issues here. Poverty can be blamed for many things: no access to a health center, no time or incentive to get an education, malnutrition. But it can’t be blamed for those times when women are not seen as “worth it.”

“No woman should die while giving life”

When people say gender equality in America they usually mean equal pay for equal work. When we say gender equality here, it means that, but it also means equal worth of life. A daughter should be educated because she is worth as much as son. A mother should be taken to the health center to give birth because she is worth more than her ability to give birth. A sister should not have to be harrassed on the street because she is more than a walking sex object. Changing minds is harder than changing laws. The laws exist here already.

But one of the ways to change minds, is to show the world that women care. They will stand up for themselves. And when they do, they can be a pretty powerful force.

Nearing the finish line together

A sea of solidarity

So in mid March, around International Women’s Day, the women of Peace Corps joined in with the women of Addis Ababa and ran a 5K through the city to show that women can, and will come out in droves for themselves.

Representing Peace Corps Ethiopia

Pumping everyone up as we went.

Staying stylish as we ran

It was one of the best days in country so far. To see that many women come together and know that we were able to cheer them on as they fight for gender equality in their own country was a really inspiring experience.

Making a spirit tunnel near the finish line!!

Ethiopian colours!

The Peace Corps Ethiopia group!

But it wasn’t just about the women. The Peace Corps men came out to cheer us on too (and brought beer- good on them!). It was great to see support from our menfolk too.

Empowering Women

 We are hoping to lobby Peace Corps to sponsor us to bring girls from our towns to Addis next year to run in the race, maybe tour Addis Ababa university, and speak with some inspirational women. Fingers crossed! Because let’s be honest, it isn’t about the race (I barely ran it), it’s about the movement and the solidarity and being surrounded by women who want change. For a young girl, that can be powerful.

The sponsors who do races all over the country.

PC Ethiopia Harlem Shake

Because you can dress us up, but you can’t take us out. Jumping on some YouTube bandwagons. I’m G8 Health (you’ll spot me around 1:15 or so I think).