Right to Sight Eye Clinic

The past two weeks in Senegal have been some of the best of my service. The non-profit organization, “Right to Sight and Health (http://www.righttosightandhealth.org/),” came to the Tambacounda Regional Hospital with the intention of restoring sight through providing cataract surgeries for those in need, while training a local nurse to continue providing care. Tamba volunteer Anna's dad, optometrist Rick Alsobrook, joined Right to Sight to do consultations, identifying cataract surgery candidates and checking patients visual acuity to provide glasses or medications to correct vision.

As Peace Corps volunteers our biggest role was to provide translations between the American doctors and nurses and the Senegalese patients. We ended up having a much more hands on role in the whole process assisting the doctors and nurses anyway we could.

My job the first week was to work with post operative patients. We took off their bandages, cleaned their eyes, gave them a series of drops, translated for them for their day one check up and then gave them instructions on how to take care of their eye. It was one of the most rewarding things I've ever done.



One day a 19 year old came in for a consultation. She was completely blind in both eyes. The doctor said her cataracts were so dense that it was very likely surgery would produce no results. He decided to go ahead and give it a chance considering her age and the fact that she had nothing to lose. The next day another volunteer removed her bandage and as I walked by her she grabbed my arm and said “I can see you!!” Tears immediately filled my eyes and I knew that if nothing else came of this mission it would still have been completely worth it.



This is her, Oulymatu Sow, with her sister and myself, after getting her 2nd eye surgery. She can now see out of both eyes and be an independent 19 year old woman.
The second week I had the chance to work in the operating room. As volunteers our job was to get patients ready for surgery by numbing their eyes with drops and cleaning them with iodine. During the surgery we would light the alcohol lamp for cauterization (because we are still in the middle ages here), prepare the implant lens, get the doctors anything they needed, prepare anesthesia for the following patients, clean instruments, etc. When surgery was over we would give a shot of steroid under the eye, give a series of eye drops and patch the eye. It was so neat to have such a hands on experience in the OR.



We also get to repeatedly watch surgery. An added bonus was that we had a teaching microscope so at times we could watch the surgery at microscopic level and see exactly what the doctors were looking at. It felt like I was watching discovery channel.



The results of the mission were amazing. 185 surgeries were performed. Countless consultations were conducted. One nurse was trained to do the surgery and can continue to correct cataracts. Other nurses were trained to use equipment to better check visual acuity and identify eye problems.

The end of the two weeks was bittersweet. I was exhausted but after feeling productive everyday and being involved in a team working for something so positive it was hard for it to end. At the end I really felt inspired. The doctors and nurses were so dedicated and in love with their jobs. I enjoyed what I did so much I could see myself going into nursing or medicine. To show patients compassion, be their advocate and work towards their better health was so satisfying.

Biking in the name of America...also why is there weave in my millet

To celebrate America's birthday this year I got bamboozled into taking a proposed three day bike trip to Kedagou, where the Peace Corps volunteers of Kedagou region throw an annual fourth of July party. The first day was a 70 k bike ride from Tamba to my site where I met several other people along the Gambia River. I was excited to not only get my first non-neighboring visitor, Kim, who had traveled all day from the North to see my site before heading to Kedagou, but also Anna, Jillian and Kourtney from my stage, Austin a Tamba PCV from a previous stage, and Aude a Tostan volunteer living in Tamba. We all spent the night a my site. We were very resourceful with sleeping arrangements. Aude in her hammock, Kim and I on a discarded donkey charet, Kourtney in her tent and the rest of the crew on mats in my backyard.

The real fun started at 5am on July 2nd with the call to prayer. Kim and I had last minute decided to join the bike crew and after waking up to the blaring mosque we all packed up and began a day we could not have previously imagined. Our plan was to bike around 70k before the extreme heat of the day and stop around noon to refill our water and eat lunch at a little “hotel” that a previous group had told us about. All of the second day was to be done through Nikola Koba National Park, which is government protected land without any shops along the road. We each had around 7 liters of water and a bean sandwich to tide us over until we reached this hotel. We biked and biked and biked thinking our break destination was just around the corner until we realized it was 2pm and we were being stupid biking through the heat of the day.

A few people got overheated and stopped to rest while another group member started experiencing major dehydration and continued biking serpent like with all her effort up a huge hill. I followed her and at the top she got off her bike and couldn't breath. She was acting delusional and after some salt replacement and rest in the shade things got better, but we started worrying about our lack of water for the next supposed 30-40 kilometers. At this time the other portion of our group had been chased out of their resting spot by baboons and the oncoming threat of warthogs.

While we were discussing how we were going to solve our water shortage a huge storm rolled in. The wind picked up and rain started pouring down. The song, "I bless the rains down in Africa," will forever have a new meaning. Freezing we started collecting rain water and huddled up into a group under the biggest tree we could find. In the matter of a minute we went from worrying about heat exhaustion to hypothermia. We started taking turns on the side of the road waiting for a car to either give us water or take us the to our destination for the night. We got lucky and a car of Peace Corps Volunteers rolled by. They gave us all their water and after the storms slowed down we continued on our way.

After 50 kilometers we finally found a sign for a “hotel,” and started off the beaten path towards it. The sun was setting and everyone was exhausted and frustrated. The half mile long path was one giant mud puddle completely sabotaging our bikes and to make matters worse we were followed by devilish children the entire way. We reached our destination and after they tried to overcharge us for a half hour we reached an agreement and settled into our nasty hotel room. We had biked 85 miles through the hills in all kinds of unusual circumstances, but our group could not have been better. Everyone was positive and at the end of the day we couldn't help but laugh our heads off.

The next morning we planned on riding our last 40 k in the mountains to a beautiful hotel on the Gambia River, but by the time we got done cleaning our bikes we couldn't have made it before the heat of the day. We rented a car and got there as quick as can be and plopped our butts rights by the pool. It couldn't have been a better decision!




The rest of the weekend we spent celebrating America. I got to catch up with all the amazing people who I spent training with, eat yummy food, drink yummy drinks, play games, speak English, listen to and dance to American music, and even had a fireworks show. There was a 5k run coordinated by volunteers in which both Senegalese and volunteers participated in. Spence ran it in jellies. We also floated down the river which was relaxing besides the possibility of hippos. I have to say Senegal is pretty good at celebrating America's birthday. Now back to the village...

Happy hay fuss...and Flag Day

Hay fuss means "nothing." It's a favorite response when you ask a kid what they are doing, have done or are going to do. "Hay fuss." That is also what I did today (two words=GLEE. Marathon.). It was a lovely break before going to Kolda for a language training tomorrow.

I taught my little sister in village to say "that's what she said." If you don't understand you might have been living under a rock for quite sometime now...or maybe Africa. Anyway it's the small things that make you smile.



Rainy season is starting to show it's face. My doors don't shut. I am away from site for a week and in that time my brothers are supposed to be installing new doors. Inshallah. The few storms we have had have been refreshing. After only two rains Medina is active with people planting and greenery (weeds) poking out everywhere. Before 97% of what I looked at was beigeish in color. I am loving the new verdant vibe.

Neem. It's a tree that is native to Senegal. It's leaves can be used to make a lotion for mosquito repellent. I taught a big group of women how to make it using my baby Pular. I plan on doing a lot more of this because with rainy season come the mosquitoes and malaria cases.

Mika and I painted a mural at the health hut in my village. It is a woman and child sleeping under a mosquito net. It's supposed to remind people to hang their nets. Our paint brushes fell apart and we finger painted a large percentage of it.

P.A.P.

So my neighbor Mika and I came up with a P.A.P (Positive Action Plan). This is to prevent us from insanity while integrating into a community that doesn’t speak our language, share our customs, practice our religion, eat our food, etc.

One of the tenants in our P.A.P. is hut painting. Week one Mika visited and we painted a beach scene on my wall. I basically live in a tropical paradise now. We have yet to pimp out his hut but rest assured it will be rockin’.



At the core of our P.A.P. is *WASSADOU WEDNESDAY* This is a highly looked forward to weekly event by Spence, Mika and I. We all meet at the weekly market in a nearby village. There we buy veggies and cold drinks and sit around eating bean sandwiches practicing our sweet new language skills with the people. Then we head to a Campemont on the Gambia River where we enjoy a cold beer, watch the hippos, play games and have ‘toubab’ time. PS: Last time as we left we got screamed at by a baboon...needless to say we all three nervously pedaled as fast as we could away.



Our future P.A.P. endeavors are sure to be as entertaining as the latter. I have proposed a backyard grill in bathing suits with buckets full of bleach water and beach balls so we can pretend we are at the pool/beach....Please send me your fun ideas and I shall bring them up at the next Wassadou Wednesday.

Random tidbits about my new life...

I live in a petting zoo...seriously in the states you could charge admission to a place with this many animals.

I have yet to decide on my least favorite Senegalese animal: roosters, donkeys, goats, man eating spiders... (I consider these an animal based on their fur content)

A little girl cried because she had to sit next to me on public transport. I would guess she was about seven and terrified to sit next to the white woman.

The religious leader (Imam) of my village insists that I learn Arabic in addition to my Pular and recite the Quran....I told him “Si Allah Jabi” (Meaning “if God wills it” and used anytime an outcome is uncertain.)

Personal space is non-existent in Senegal. People will literally stand with their entire body pressed to yours in public places and think nothing of it.

I am an expert at pulling water from the well.

My family doesn’t understand my dislike for spiders but show them a frog and they run...it’s a good mood booster.

I woke up this morning at 3am shivering. As I went to get another sheet I checked the thermometer. 83 degrees...what is wrong with me?

I sleep with a sham wow because I have to wipe my body of dripping sweat approximately every two minutes without exaggeration.

My doorway is four feet high...I will most likely have scoliosis by the time I return.

I eat peanut butter out of a plastic bag.

Almost every single villager I have come in contact with owns something that has a picture of Barrack Obama on it.

Joonie joonie (right now)...could mean in a half hour...or in 4 hours...Arg.

When traveling to bigger villages, towns, cities we white folks constantly hear, “Toubab okkuan cadeau.” Hey white person give me a present.

Things I know how to say in Pular that you wouldn't learn in your first couple years of English: termite mound, poop kettle, goat intestine, braid pick, machete, how many wives do you have? 'Nuff said...

While one the way to Tamba Spence tried to open the door to our public transport and it literally fell off.

PS: A beetle the size of my big toe just clamped onto my big toe...Holy crap I live in Africa? Now I am going to try to fall asleep with visions of attacking beetles in my head...sweet dreams!

Beynguere An e Senegal (My Senegalese Family)

There are 17 of us living in one compound and I am so lucky to say there is not a person I dislike.

*My older sisters are silly and enjoy making fun of me. They make sure that I get my fill of Senegalese culture by dragging me to any village occasion, teaching me the fine art of village cooking (i.e. pounding corn, grinding peanuts and working over an open fire in a smoke filled hut) and attempting to teach me to dance (while mostly falling over laughing at me). Issatou (the sister I am named after) braided my hair the other day and now I am in with the Pula women!

*My brothers are all amazing. My older brothers like to practice Pular with me and insist that I sit and talk with them instead of studying. They have taught me all about work in preparation for rainy season from slash and burning the fields to re-roofing the huts. My younger brothers run, play games and garden with me. My brothers all think it’s funny that a woman likes to run “for sport haha??” (they say) and do other ‘boy’ activities, but I know they love it and its fun to stomp on gender stereotypes.

* The kiddos. My younger sister Ruby is my shadow when she is not in school. She likes to show me off as her toubab and helps me with language, chores, people’s names, etc. There are three little hoodlums in my compound. Fanta is four and attached at the hip with the neighbor girl Ramatou. They are adorable and get into as much shenanigans as possible. Djenabou is two and still scared of me. Mamadu, the one yea old, is gosh darn adorable and the happiest little stinker ever.

*My parents have been pretty low key in my life so far. My mom has never been unfriendly but hasn’t exactly gone out of her way to befriend me. I think she is more reserved and that relationship will come in time. My second mom has been very helpful showing me around the community, taking me to every single compound and patiently waiting for me to write the names of every man, woman and child in Medina. My dad is funny and gets excited every time I use a new word. He likes to check in with me frequently and insist that I shouldn’t be working when “the sun is hot.”

It’s similar to home in that there is never a dull moment, nor a quiet one.

Village Life

So I’ve been in village for almost three weeks now and along with trying to learn Pular I’ve found all sorts of things to fill my time. I’ve been to a wedding and a baptism, both of which showed no resemblance to typical American or Christian customs. I attended Mass in a furno of a hut in languages I don’t comprehend. I have started three garden beds and made soil from scratch because guess what??? It doesn’t exist here.

Last week, I helped with baby weighings and Polio vaccinations, which opened my eyes to how differently the health system of Senegal works. Instead of everyone taking their children to the health post, health workers literally go hut to hut giving vaccinations and handing out anti-parasitic medication. To keep track of who has been vaccinated they mark the fingernails of the children with sharpie and write on the huts in chalk. It seems ridiculous for a health system to be running like this in 2010 but it is honestly more practical in a village setting where otherwise children would never see a health worker.

Most recently I went to a nearby village to do baby weighings. The community was Fulbe, a different kind of Pular. They have different braids, tattooing, dancing and customs. While I was there a wedding for a 14 year old girl took place. It's overwhelming how different people live here. I just thought of my baby sister back home being put into that situation and it made my stomach turn, but here it is an every day reality. I feel so blessed to grow up with education and the freedom to choose my own path in life.

Most of the rest of my time has co-insisted of meeting and greeting people...the school directors, health workers, neighbors, prominent community members, the ladies that sell mangoes, my counterparts, etc. I have ventured out to both Spence and Mika’s sites to see my new Peace Corps brothers and meet their families. This has been a fun insight into their lives and situations while also giving me a chance to practice Pular in new settings, try out public transport and give me a break from my village.