Disclaimer

These opinions are my own and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Peace Corps, Rotary, or any other organization to which I am affiliated.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Extreme Home Makeover: Aisha is in Burkina Faso Edition

I smell like gasoline.  Yes, you read that right…The smell of me is making me nauseous.  I washed, but the smell is still there.  I am sure that the people sitting in the internet cafĂ© with me right now are wondering if someone just spilled gas when they went to the gas station.  Please let me explain…
I got some tables made so I can have counter space in my house.  Here the norm is that everything you buy, you must be prepared to haggle and discuss the price.  It is a fun sport, when you feel like doing it.  Last week I didn’t feel like it.  The guy who made my tables and is currently making my book shelves and I debated about the price for a good 20 minutes.  Finally, I asked him, will the furniture be varnish included in the price?  He told me no, but if I wanted to add the cost of the varnish and the oil to thin is out, I could feel free.  I decided against it and said just make the stuff and I will varnish it myself.  Why not?  I have done it before.  Here is where all of my troubles began.
So the other day I went to the market to buy some varnish and the person who took me to find it insisted that I get some sort of oil to thin it out.  My options were essence, or petrol.  I should look it up and find out what exactly essence is in English…but I am most certain it is gasoline…and well petrol, I don’t know…it is somewhere in the family.  I don’t know the difference between the two, but I decided on essence because the station was directly across the street from boutique where I bought the varnish.  Yep!  Just like gasoline is came out of the pump like when you go to the gas station.  Looks like it and smells like it…essence is gasoline. 
Continuing with the story…I mixed some essence  with the varnish in an empty tuna can and stirred it with my paint brush.  I think I added too much because well, heck, I didn’t know how much to add in the first place.  I just wanted to varnish the furniture!  As I smoothed the varnish and gasoline mixture all over my table and continued to inhale that nauseating smell, I thought…”hmm…if this is the table I am going to put my gas stove on, is this really prudent to douse the entire WOODEN table in GASOLINE?!  Probably not!”  Then I started thinking that maybe people cut it with oil so that the varnish will last longer and they can use it on more than one item.  I do recall when I was buying it that the guy told me not to get too much because I could make it thinner with some sort of oil.  After reflecting, I decided then to no longer use the gas mixture, well because in terms of infrastructure, I can’t quite think of the last fire station I have seen in all of Burkina…let alone in my small town.
I finally finished varnishing my two tables.  (One if for my stove and the other is for counter space.)  I used the entire liter of varnish and have none left for my two large shelves that will likely be delivered to my house this weekend.  I have to buy more varnish and on top of that, as I finished up the last table I noticed a nosey little fly decided to get stuck and die on my first table!  I guess the moral of the story is, just pay the extra cost for labor because at this point I have to buy more varnish, figure out how to get the fly off without smashing him into the varnish and I smell like gasoline!
Stay tuned for the next episode…

The Continuous Cycle-Work

Background/Needs Assessments:  Students in secondary school often have to travel far from their homes daily to attend class.  Often there are primary schools within the villages or in a neighboring village.  However secondary schools are often in the provincial or regional capital, which means the students have to travel sometimes 8 miles or more to attend middle and high school.  it is most efficient for the student’s time, as most of them walk or bike to and from school, to be able to stay in the town for the school year.  This way they can actually study after school instead of walking 3 hours and then getting home to do chores, eat and sleep.  Finding housing for boys is pretty easy.  A family friend or distant relative will let boys stay.  Or even sometimes a group of boys will get a small house together.  From what I hear they often can’t cook very well, but they learn quickly (that was a joke).
Community Need: The same is not always true for young girls.  There are several concerns that occur with girls staying far away from home.  Because of the cultural norms of girls being the housekeepers, when girls stay with distant relatives, they are, at times, expected to cook, and clean…which makes it hard for them to actually get the studying done they need to be doing.  If a bunch of girls stay in a house together, with little supervision, they are vulnerable to undesired pregnancies, exposure to STI’s, etc.  As people here often say, “they spoiled the girl”…meaning so got pregnant.  Obviously girls are not having sex by themselves to get pregnant, but the consequences are easily seen when their stomachs grow.  The community’s desire for a place to lodge girls in a secure area where they can be protected from outside vulnerabilities, learn good decision making skills, and self-confidence birthed the community house, where I will be working.  Through the efforts of UNICEF, the local government, and other organizations, the Community House for Girls was created. 

 Action Plan and Implementation: The community house can house up to 100 girls, they are 2 large dorms with beds, showers, a cafeteria, study rooms, a location to house a female director, and infirmary.  The space is enclosed by large walls surrounding the campus pretty close to the center of the town so girls can easily walk (or bike) to the different schools within 20 minutes.  A Peace Corps Response Volunteer was requested to work alongside the organizations involved to ensure sustainability.  In a nutshell, I will be engaged in the activities of the community house as well as helping to build the capacity of the community to continue to provide a safe and supportive environment for the girls.  Some of the activities to be done with the director include training in decision-making and life skills, study skills, organizing extracurricular activities.  Within the community, the intention is to be able to leave a set of tools that can be implemented to ensure the sustainability of the project, so connecting administration, teachers, parents, and community organizations to work together to provide a supportive education for girls is critical.   I will likely work with some boys in the surrounding schools as well, so they too will learn these critical skills, as it is all so interconnected.  Interesting enough, the hope is that this community house can be a model for other districts to replicate. 
So why did I set this blog up with background, community need, and finally an action plan?  You guessed it!  Community development comes from within the community and will only be sustainable if you know the scope and continuously check the loop to make sure it is still working.  It is an ongoing cycle.  Since I just got to my post after training in the capital, I am currently in the background gathering phase of my project.  I am beginning with an “Etude de Milieu” which is literally a study of the area, or better known as a community analysis.  Based on the information gathered from the community, we can work together to identify the specific community needs within the project I am assigned to, and finally write an action plan on how to carry it out, evaluate, and then celebrate! 

What is our philosophy of development?  Development is any process that promotes the dignity of a people and their capacity to improve their own lives.  My intention is not to tear down a culture, accuse, or do what I think is best.  The solutions to the concerns within the community are grown from the ideas of the community members itself.  I am here simply to support that process.  Loa Tse said it best:
“Go to the people,
Learn from them,
Start with what they know,
Build on what they have…
But the best of leaders, when their work is done,
The task is finished,
The people will say,
‘We have done it ourselves’”



Thursday, September 8, 2011

Read it: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks



As odd as this may sound, reading this book during my stay in Africa as a Peace Corps Volunteer is crucial to how I view and interact with the world at this time.  So while you, the reader(s) of my blog may find it odd that I am taking a moment away from blogs about Burkina Faso and the culture, my work, and life here, I find it fitting and so very connected.  For if you do not know me and how I view the world, it is difficult to understand the lens I use to interpret and navigate God’s creation.

First things first, READ THE IMMORTAL LIFE OF HENRIETTA LACKS.  It is the true story of the woman whose cells (HeLa) that are used by scientist world-wide in research and creation of various vaccines, such as for polio and HPV, and various studies on different types of cancer and also HIV/Aids.  It is fascinating to know that this African American woman from Clover, Virginia has contributed so much to science.  The catch is it was without her knowledge, nor the knowledge of her family.  She was treated in the early 50’s for cervical cancer at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland.  Hopkins is recognized as one of the leading institutions of medical research and study. (side note: I know a guy who told me he was hoping to get a scholarship, and did, to Hopkins after his Peace Corps service, and immediately, in my mind he was placed into a category that I consider highly respected and astute.  He was already on my list of “interesting people” since he finished his Peace Corps service in my village.  You gotta be a tough cookie to do that ::wink:: :-)).  Before Henrietta was treated with radiation for her cervical cancer, her doctor took a biopsy of the cancerous tissue on her cervix and also her normally growing tissue.  At the time, doctors and researchers were trying desperately, but always failing at keeping cell cultures alive.  Hers (the cancerous ones) not only stayed alive, but 60 some years later continue to multiply and reproduce.  This story however, is not just about cells that scientist have studied for the past few decades, it is the story of her, her family, and their struggle to understand what happened to their loved one.  Her legacy was carried through her 5 children, who struggled through life being motherless at a young age becoming victims of abuse, poverty, and unfortunately not ever being able to take advantage of the healthcare their mother’s cells helped to create.  It is a story of the struggle of Black Americans, women, poverty, and family.  Everyone must read it!

The story touches home for me for many different reasons, including my passage through life as a young woman understanding the world without the guidance of my beloved mother and friend, Sharon Magenta Simmons Johnson.  (Simmons is her maiden name).  While my situation was different because I was 23 when my mother passed away and the children of Henrietta was very young, her youngest was but a few months old.  The idea of my mother dealing with health complications that led to an early demise coincides with the story of this family.  Thankfully, I am not a victim of abuse, however, I know that it is real and effects people in astounding ways and I have witnessed its effects in persons I know very well.  The most touching of all, is the immortality of Henrietta Lacks.  She lives forever because her cells continue to live and will likely never die.  Her cells can wrap around the world 2 times by now and take over cell cultures that it encounters, its air born and ever-present.  My mother does not have some scientific connection to the world to my knowledge at this time, but I hope that her spirit infectiously lives through everything I do, all the places I go, and no matter where I am in the world, people feel, see, hear, and believe in all the best parts of who Sharon Johnson was and is.  My mother was born on October 31, 1952 and died September 27, 2007.  Much like Deborah, the daughter of Henrietta Lacks, I want to whole world to know my mother and what she means to me.  Like I said earlier, if you do not know me, then it is impossible for you to understand how I interpret and interact with the world that surrounds me.  So I am taking the time now to make a tribute to Henrietta Lacks, the foundation that was created to help educate her living offspring, and to my own Immortal mother, Sharon Johnson.  Maybe one day I too will write a book about her life, her love, and her struggles. 

Dear Mommy,
Thank you for all you have done in my life.  Thank you for allowing me to explore myself as a person spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually.  You hand wrote and drew “My Baby’s First Book”, making sure that all words and illustrations reflected my loved ones and surroundings.  I will never forget hours of you helping me learn to read.  Even though you insisted that there was nothing wrong with me and you knew that I would get it…”Just sound it out” is what you would say.  Haha…it wasn’t until I went to college, after maintaining great grades in high school, and studying hard, that I was finally diagnosed with a reading disability.  But through your hard work and effort, and our tireless word games like scrabble, boggle, crossword puzzles, and word searches, on top of summers filled with math and reading assignments before play time, most people including myself would have never known that I struggled in that area.  But college was a new bird!  3 or 4 professors expected at least 100 pages read by the next class was overwhelming!  I was in over my head trying to read almost 400 pages for different classes.  I later found out that most of my classmates were not reading all of it either…just enough to discuss in class and reading the articles that interested them the most, but how was I supposed to know that?!   Haha…but even then, you told me not to be discouraged.  “Aisha, you went to the classes one at a time, so do the work one assignment at a time.”  Such simple, yet ingenious wisdom like this is what encourages me to continue to push for higher heights and also push other young people along.  My students used to think I was hard on them.  “Man, Ms. Johnson, I don’t have homework for any other teacher ever night, but yours!”  The funny thing is, those same students who had behavior problems, and low achievement in other classes made it through my class and later respected me for being so hard on them.  That was your doing...your immortality.  You believed that circumstances didn’t make the people and they had the ability to push through, so why not try.  On behalf of my students, “thanks Momma J”. 

And Lord did you know how to be a cheerleader!  You embarrassed the heck out of me all the time!  It didn’t matter what I did, you told the world like it was the most awesome thing you had ever seen.  “Aisha got honor roll,” and “did I show you the choir tape of my children singing?”  Most of the time I didn’t even know who the people were who knew me or about me but, I was one of “Sharon’s kids” so I was subject to being known by every person you encountered.  I still have letters you wrote, pictures you drew, and most importantly, special memories of you.  I used to have your voice on a digital recorder, but that was somehow lost.  Guess what, I’m going to get you back and tell everyone I come in contact with about you, Mommy!   I love you dearly, and hope that I continue to make you proud through everything I do.  May your spirit live on and you rest in peace.

Love Always,
Esha-Mesha