World AIDS Day... again

This year I wanted to do something different (Click here for WAD ’07) because WAD landed on a market day. I wanted to take advantage of the fact that people from all around the commune, not just Tchaourou, would be present. To do this, I wanted to create visual awareness through red ribbon displays, the red ribbon being the symbol for HIV/AIDS solidarity. To help with this project, I consulted the Orphanage Director, Daniel TCHAFFA, to get support from the local orphans (both infected and affected by HIV/AIDS). The goal was to have these orphans share information about HIV/AIDS with the community.

The plan of action included the orphans first making placards with HIV/AIDS messages for them to carry in the parade through town. During the parade, the orphans clapped and chanted “ je suis jeune, je veux vivre, toutes ma vie, sans SIDA” which translates to “ I am young, I want to live, all my life, without AIDS”. Once in town, they took their pre-made ribbons (thanks to Daniel and myself) and divided into groups. Each group went to a designated part of the market where they asked to put red ribbons on market stalls. The red ribbon acted as a “talking point” to discuss HIV/AIDS, to explain the symbolism of the red ribbon and to answer any questions.

In total, the orphans reached over 1,500 people during the day and placed hundreds of ribbons on market stalls.

Pictures of the event:

Daniel and I making hundreds of red ribbons out of local fabric prior to WAD

Christine, who helps out at the CPS, paying close attention to the finer details of the ribbon

et voila, les orphelins. C'y est!


First stop, the hospital.


Arriving at the market.

And an attempted artistic picutre of one ribbon hanging from a market stall.

Angaradebou HIV/AIDS Training

In lead up to World AIDS Day I helped a fellow volunteer, Jennifer Morgan, with a two day HIV/AIDS peer-educator training. At her local high school in Angaradebou (about 5hours north of Tchaourou), we trained 20 girls and 20 boys how to educate their peers about HIV/AIDS.

Day one included lots of games, activities and demonstrations.

Here are the girls practicing putting on condoms

and playing a game
By day two, it was clear the students knew their information, so we spent the day teaching them how to give presentations. You would be amazed at how little these kids know about presentations. They turn their back to the audience, they cover their mouths while talking, and they speak quietly. It’s absolutely horrible. So, we took the opportunity to teach these kids the life-long skill of giving presentations. After several attempts, the kids finally started to understand what we meant by: “speak loud” , “face the audience”, etc.

Here are a few pictures of them in action

We took a break while the kids practiced their presentations and went to the market. I brought my camera along and took a few photos : typical stuff: garlic, pepper, salt, ect.
beautiful bariba woman. I was quite surprised she let me take her photo.

After break, we reconvened and the kids gave their presentations. All succeeded. And in true Beninese fashion, we held a brief awards ceremony where the kids received peer-educator badges for participating. Here's Jen's favorite student

(me, favorite student, Jen)

And the group! (You can't quite see me....top right, white face)

Abdullah's Naming

Another unique opportunity for cross cultural exchange. Steve’s work partner Kasim recently became a father for a third time, a healthy baby boy being born during our trip. This meant the boy was going to have to be named, and thus a traditional Muslim baby naming would be held.

Held on a Saturday morning, we arrived at Kasim’s at 8.30am to find all the traditional trappings – rows of rented plastic chairs, oversized blown out speakers, cases of small sodas stacked in the corner and a gaggle of women at the edge of the yard cooking wildly.




What was different was that at one edge of the square there were long mats rolled out and a series of older village men and women were singing, chanting and, well, yodeling.



The ceremony itself was very short with the Imam chanting briefly, followed by several rounds of charity donations made to the villagers sitting on the mats. As Kasim explained to us, the Imam said a prayer in which he mentioned the boy’s name – Abdullah, btw – and the charity given in his name was in the spirit of Islam’s pillar of charity, setting him on the path for a devoted life.



And we ate, and drank, and ate some more. I mean, it was a Beninese party, it's what we do here.

Barb and Bob's Excellent African Adventure

October was a big travel month as we headed off to Ghana and returned to Benin with Steve’s parents. The trip was originally planned around the October sitting of the Law School Admissions Test, which both of us took. We went over a few days before the test to acclimate and enjoy Accra.

Enjoy Accra you ask? Yes, because Accra might just as well be San Diego, remarkable not for what it is but where. Highways, neighborhood subdivisions, English, overpasses, functioning public transit, multinational corporations, ice cream – basically everything Cotonou isn’t. We took two days to just relax ahead of the test and keep stress to a minimum.

The test was held in the US Embassy, a massive complex of the type only the US government can build. This sitting was the only held in West Africa and only one of two on the continent. As such the room was a nice representative sample of Peace Corps volunteerism in the region, accompanied by a dozen or so Africans applying to JD or LLM programs in the US. We took the test, and then it was over.

The next day Steve’s folks arrived and after a brief mix up at the airport, we were off to the Cape Coast. Here is a sampling of photos from the Ghana portion of the trip, and we’ll pick up the narrative on the way back to Benin.

Barb and Bob on the beach of Elmina

Bob walking on the canopy walk in Kakum National Park

View of the ships in Elmina harbor

Good time all around in Ghana, but it was off to Benin for some French and a look at life in Africa in a way only a local could show. Our Ghanaian driver My Brother (yes, that was his name) dropped us at the Togo border and my folks got their first look at a West African border crossing (for two people used to Niagara Falls, this was a bit of a departure).

Bob and Barb with My Brother at the border

Much to Bob’s amusement, Jaren negotiated hard for a fair cab price -- maybe a little too hard as the guy decided to channel his shame into the gas pedal. We arrived in Cotonou from Lome close to an hour ahead of schedule, although it probably took that hour for our respective heart rates to come back to normal levels.

From here we were off to Tchaourou and a look into our everyday lives. We took the morning bus up, putting us in town by mid-afternoon. We settled in and took a brief tour of town to greet some people and do a bit of planning for the next night’s fete.

en route to Chez Schwartz in Tchaourou

That night was interesting, a first chance for Steve to see his parent so far outside of their comfort zone. Outdoor latrine, bucket baths, fetching water. Making matters worse, with the house having been shuttered for two weeks it had become extremely stuffy, and Steve slept poorly that night convinced that he was slowly roasting his parents. Mercifully, the house eventually cooled down and the folks slept fine.

Day too was a closer work of our day to day work starting at the local health clinic. Bob was a kid in a candy store, nose deep in all sorts of procedures and technologies he’d not seen used in 30 years (“he’s testing for TB with a Bunsen Burner!”). From there we went up to Tchalla to see the women’s savings and credit association and follow up on the groups activities. Not only had the ladies successfully reimbursed and redistributed their credit, but they also began to develop a financing scheme for a larger gari production operation. Anne and Clementine were happy to show off their product and how they were planning to market it, and Barb and Bob got a better sense of what we do.

Next up was the In’game Pile fete, with Eric and Valerie helping us put together a traditional Beninese meal of assaulted tubers and peanut sauce. Everyone took their turn pitching in, even the guests of honor.

The trip up north concluded with a quick tour through Parakou to show off the town including the pork and peron palace Akuna Matata, along with a visit to the local Tchuk stand.

Drinking Tchuk with fellow volunteers Tim (bearded guy) and Ben

From there we took a meandering taxi ride back down to Cotonou that included stops in Dassa and Abomey.

Finally, launching from Hotel du Lac we took a daytrip up to the Ganvie stilt village.

Bob bought a throne.

And with that, the month of travel was over and we were back to Tchaourou to keep fighting the good fight.

For more pictures of Barb and Bob's Excellent African Adventure click HERE

Flesh Eating Bacteria

THIS POST IS GROSS. IF YOU'RE SQUEAMISH JUST SKIP IT.

Officially it was a staph infection, although others have speculated that, based on the pictures, it was necrotizing fasciitis. Regardless, as Jaren and everyone else is quick to remind him, STEVE BROUGHT THIS ON HIMSELF.

It started simply, just a mosquito bite on the calf. But then he picked the scab. And picked it again. Hey why not a third time. Eventually, a white ring formed around the wound, and only at the site of puss did he bother to care for it properly with disinfectant and bandages. Just a mosquito bite, right?

Wrong. As it so happens a month earlier a similar chain of events led to a few local infections on Steve's heels and we're cared for in a similarly slapdash matter. But with all this bacteria running around below his knees, something had to give with the latest bite.

So about 3 days after the sign of infection in the mosquito bite on the calf, another weird white bump appeared about 1/2 inch above the offending bite. Thinking nothing of it Steve let it be. But then it grew and grew some more and some two days later it started to ooze a little, so Steve covered it thinking nothing of it. But it grew and grew and oozed and oozed, and then the area around it started to turn red and hot and it hurt. Being the super responsible individual that he is, Steve put a clean gauze and neosporin on it, wrapped it in an ace bandage and went to bed.

Well, Friday morning rolls around and the throbbing in his leg got to be such that there would be no more sleeping. Not wanting to wake Jaren, he stepped outside into the back area and unwrapped the bandage and lo and behold a maroon welt the size of a golf ball with a little white head like zit staring back at him. But wait, there's more. After 5 seconds the little white head erupted -- seriously erupted -- and what can only be described as a maynoaise/ketchup looking combination was POURING out of his leg under its own pressure. And pouring is not an exaggeration, as Jaren was made aware of the situation while in bed she heard the first burst splat on the ground and Steve mutter "oh sh*t" in a seriously worried tone she'd never heard out of him before. When all was said and done roughly half a liquid cup had exited forcefully and with no additional pressure.

From here it was a no brainer - call the Peace Corps doctor in Cotonou and head to Parakou for a visit with the Peace Corps's northern medical officer Dr. Mensah (who in addition to being the trauma specialist chief of surgery is also the head of the Beninese national Petanque association). Steve wrapped the leg back up with some gauze and an ace bandage as Jaren packed up and the two went out to the highway to flag down a car. 50 minutes later we were in Mensah's office where he proceeded to "irrigate the wound" (read: squeeze the hell out of it and dig around inside with some sharp scissors while all manner of hell came out) sans any local anesthesia.

Funny side story - to this point the entire proceeding with Mensah was in French and it was not known how much English he understood. While Mensah was a wonderfully professional doctor, Steve was a terribly amateurish patient and at one particularly painful moment during the irrigation Steve bellowed a terrible expletive (starts with a p, ends with an r, and has igfucke in the middle). Instantly recognizing his offense, he looked back to scan faces and see if he had gotten away with it, and was greeted with a sly, knowing grin on Mensah's face. Guess he speaks pretty good English.

The next three days were spent at the Parakou work station on a steady stream of antibiotics, fruit juice and old episodes of Dr. Who, intermixed with morning trips to Mensah's office for a change of dressing and monitoring. And eventually he got better, but let us never forget the moral of the story, that STEVE HAD NO ONE TO BLAME BUT HIMSELF.


Day 1 Photos



Day 2 Photos-Healing