I like being dehydrated because then I don’t sweat*

It has rained! We had one good storm a couple days ago, followed by a morning of drizzle, and a couple of small rains. From what I’ve been told “I ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Other random updates to this roller coaster of a week: My shade structre can now provide actual shade. I just scared a baby goat that didn’t realize I was sitting here, and my fence might be done. I’m hoping not because animals can still come in and eat my plants. 

That’s all beside the point, I want to talk about the last 2 days. As I’ve made a habit of doing, I showed up at my host dad’s work at about mid morning. He works at the health post every morning and likes when I come so that I can do the ticket, this requires me to write down everyones names and take their money. It’s fun to write everyone’s name because I have no idea how to spell them so everyone just winds up giggling the whole time. 

After sitting there for a little bit he informs me that the Peace Corps woman from Saraya is coming today and we are going to go with them to a nearby village. The following things were wrong with that statement: There is no Peace Corps woman in Saraya (there is one who volunteers for an NGO), and only I went along (his boss said he needed to do work). And so, without really knowing what I was getting into I hopped into the back of the ambulance and we drove off for the day. 

First stop was the village of Madina Sabodala where we proceeded to vaccinate and weigh the 23 babies under a year old. I was put in charge of the weighing! Now, if you know me, you are probably aware that I love children but my experience with infants if very limited. Well in Senegal something like 60% of the population is under 18 years old… babies be jan (no, I’m not apologizing for throwing Mandinka/Malika/Mande in there, and it might happen more, deal). 

So, weighing babies consists of putting them in a sling a la Johnny Jump Up (only far less supportive) and hanging them from a scale. This is in fact the same highly effective plan as weighing fish. Using an age/weight chart you can tell how well nourished a child is fairly effectively. 

At first I was scared that I was going to break someone’s baby, but after so many mothers grab they baby by a single are and all but throw them into the sling I stopped being scared 

Most of the babies weren’t too happy with the sling, mostly I think because they were not somehow attached to their mothers. Some of them were just really curious about this person who is not only white, but also a man who was touching them. The mom’s for the most part thought it was really funny… I tend to agree with them, the babies either stared confused at me, cried, or if we were lucky they were too tired to do anything so they just wound up being blobs hanging from a scale. 

Once all the babies were taken care of there we moved on to Mamakhono. A far less organized situation compounded by the man in charge not having much respect for women (aka the moms and the volunteer trying to make things run smoother. 

Part of this general disorganization was the decision that to weigh the babies I should stand on the world’s most finicky electronic scale, hold the babies and subtract my weight. It could be faster, but thanks to the scale it was probably slower. Perhaps the most important thing to not about this technique is that I am in full contact with all the babies. With the sling when an exceptionally dirty kid came around I could just let their mother do most of the work. On the scale all I could do is hold them away from me, being very careful not to be obvious about it. This is when I got peed on a couple times, however, far fewer babies cried throughout this process. 

Note from day 1: Babies with a mohawk are always cute. Babies with the forehead soul patch… it’s about half and half. 

Day two of baby weighing started with me getting really frustrated with my host dad. Here I was looking to have a good day in the village since I was gone the whole day before, but I was so angry with him that morning that when he suggested I go with them again I did not hesitate to jump into the ambulance again. I’m glad I did because this day was really interesting and provided me with the opportunity to hear A LOT of Malinke. 

Our first stop was Diakhling. Before we could start vaccinations an weighings we had some visitors that had work to do. It seems the Japanese government is funding a pretty major health infrastructure re-haul in the area. Phase 1: Saraya gets a new hospital; Phase 2: A few other villages get new Health Posts. Diakhling may be one of those villages, except that it is very remote so secondary costs to the project are high. It becomes a question of a lot of Health Posts in easily accessible areas, or fewer in more difficult to reach places. 

This is where the fun began, the two people representing the Japanese government could speak English, so they hired a French interpreter (I assume from Dakar). Armed with their French interpreter they set out to a village that only speaks Malinke. Of the 30 or so local men in attendance only one stepped forward as able to speak French and act as the interpreter into Malinke. This was great for me because I got to hear the whole thing translated both ways, I moved myself to a spot where I could hear everything and used it as an opportunity to try to pick up some new vocabulary. Its effectiveness is debatable. 

After they got done with their interviews we went right to work. I was happy to see Johnny Jump Up come back out for the weighings, and the man in charge brought us sodas! it was a good day. A notable difference for today is that the villages were much smaller and more rural, so to make sure that all children were taken care of there were lists for each stop of who needed work done. If a mother did not show up with her child she was sent for since the ambulance will not be able to make it out there in less than a month due to the rains. 

From our first stop we moved on to Diegoung and finally Kobokhoto, each village smaller and closer to Mali than the last. It was in Diegoung that I got the screams of terror out of the babies. It was quite obvious to be that they were certain of their impending deaths in the hands of this white man. 

The comparison that comes to mind is really just for my parents and uncle. Remember the first time I was ever in a canoe? I knew for a fact that we were going to sink and I was going to die despite the PFD around my neck. I was absolutely terrified and had no problem vocalizing this, same with these particular babies. I tried to do my work fast so I could get them back to mom before they stressed themselves out too much. The only problem is that mom barely had time to calm them down before they were getting stabbed by needles, one poor boy got one in each limb. In the long run it is better for the children, so I was able to get past the tears and obtain my sense of accomplishment.

In my rush to get away from my host dad today I neglected to bring any water, and the last villages did not offer us any of their water.  By the time I made it back to my hut I was ready to drink a liter of water, which I did and then proceeded to sweat that all out.  Luckily I decided to shower right after I drank the water, so I was nice and clean by the time I started sweating again.