I've gotten asked the same two questions quite a few times in the past few days, so I thought it might be helpful to answer them here.
1. So, uh…what’s your job, exactly?
2. So, uh…what’s the Ebola situation?
1. I realize that when one reads the blog, it sounds like I’m
just gallivanting around my village, meeting people, Ramadanning, and
practicing speaking Fulakunda. There’s a
good reason for this: it’s because that’s literally all I’ve done so far. To be fair, that’s all that’s been expected
of me. Peace Corps euphemistically calls this stage of the Peace Corps
process “Community Integration.” I
realize that I can’t work with anyone if I can’t communicate with them, and
that trust takes time to develop, but it’s still hard for me to feel good about
the “hard work” I’m doing by sitting on my butt drinking tea all day. I feel like I’m wasting my time and American
taxpayers’ money…and I'm a painfully slow learner who usually doesn't understand what's going on anyway.
I don’t know yet what my job in the community will turn out
to be, but hopefully I’ll get some kind of an idea within the next two weeks. I’m back at the Theis training center during
this time with the rest of my training group, developing an action plan for my
next (almost) two years.
There is a strict, firmly established framework for health
volunteers in Senegal, and our activities need to be reported into a
centralized database according to that framework. Their rationale is that each of our small
inputs into our communities are like pebbles thrown into a lake – if it’s just
us, individual pebbles, scattered in many different areas, it’s not likely the
ripples will be noticeable. However, if
everyone throws their pebbles in the same area, we’re more likely to have real,
noticeable, country-wide effects. For
that reason, we have very precise expectations.
For example, if I want to work with malaria, there are a dozen or so
benchmarks I can work towards, all of which must be quantified and entered into
the database. It’s not enough to say “I
had some conversations about why to get treated if you feel sick” – instead, I
need to quantify the “number of individuals who reported fever in the last two
weeks who received antimalarial treatment in accordance with the national
policy AND within one day of the onset of fever.”
That said, there is still some room for individuality. My primary projects will be focused on quantifiable
benchmarks, but I’m free to do secondary projects that don’t necessarily align with
the national objectives. The important
thing is that I choose projects that not only interest me enough to devote the
next two years of my life to, but that also interest my community and the
national government of Senegal so they can continue after I go home.
2. Anyone in America with access to good internet knows more about Ebola than I do. Most of the time, I’m in a village with no running water or electricity, so I’ve not kept up with the rising death tolls on the CNN news reel. From what I hear, though, Ebola is getting to be a big deal. Peace Corps volunteers in three neighboring countries (Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea) have been evacuated.
Ebola does scare me quite a bit, but not for the reasons you’d
expect. I do not think I will catch Ebola,
and I don’t think anyone in my community will, either. However, I do think that America may evacuate
me if it continues to spread, and that’s what I’m scared of. I’ve been in Senegal for six months now, and
I have nothing to show for my time but limited proficiency in Fulakunda Pulaar
and acquaintanceships with millet farmers. The last six months were spent creating
a scaffolding that is essential to build a successful service on, but the
scaffolding will be useless if it stands alone, if I go home instead of
building on it. Subsistence farmers don’t
make good contacts on LinkedIn, and Fulakunda isn’t a language option on the
drop down menus of job applications.
I know the situation is out of my hands and there is nothing I can do, so I’m
trying not to worry. Whatever happens I’ll
just have to deal with life as it comes and enjoy every day the best I can.
I’ll write again once I develop my Action Plan! Hope everyone’s doing well.
I’ll write again once I develop my Action Plan! Hope everyone’s doing well.
Barbara, Just a note to say that a friend in Dakar wrote today that the newspaper, Sept. 1st, says that the Guinean man's doctors say that he is better. He also writes that the radio and TV are urging people to take precautions and that as a result people are washing their hands with soap and eau de Javal and refraining from shaking hands. Let us hope that the disease will stay away from the northern border of Guinea (so far so good) and Guinea Bissau. If you wish us to keep you posted on what we hear, please let me know. Johnhand@gmail.com Best, John Hand, RPCV Senegal '62-'65 and Janet Ghattas, RPCV Senegal '63-'65.
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