The following is an article I wrote for the Volunteer newsletter regarding a health and development conference I recently attended. Thanks for reading!
The Global Health Initiative in Mali works here as it does in numerous other developing countries: evaluating and increasing the impact of existing health-related interventions, working to implement new and effective programs, and encouraging sustainable results. The Initiative is a US commitment to strengthen programs targeting many facets of public health, from family planning and maternal health to neglected tropical diseases, and is the first US Government initiative to actively encourage host country research and innovation. Last month, the US Agency for International Development, the National Institutes of Health, and the US Centers for Disease Control hosted a conference in Bamako on the subject of Science, Research, and New Technology for Development in Mali. I, along with three other volunteers and three staff members, attended the five day conference to learn more about the face of GHI in Mali, and how Peace Corps can become more involved.
The conference emphasized the promising health and development work being done in Mali, by Malians and with the support of the US government agencies hosting the event, some of which have already proven their effectiveness in improving the Malian healthcare system. The Initiative works to coordinate its priorities with those of the Government of Mali while ultimately working towards meeting the Millenium Development Goals. One of the biggest priorities of the Government of Mali is to strengthen community-level health programs—those serving the majority of Malians.
Mali’s USAID office invited representatives from numerous health-related assistance programs to speak at the event, Peace Corps included. The conference marks the start of a hopefully fruitful collaboration between all the partners present, from the Ministry of Health to the Fogarty International Center in Washington, D.C. Underscored was the necessity of cooperation and partnership between agencies, because each offers different expertise in the fight to improve healthcare in Mali. It is exciting for Peace Corps to be included in this community.
Whether Small Enterprise Development or Health, the state of the Malian healthcare system—and the health of our host country work partners and friends—affects all PCVs. Partners at the conference admired the Peace Corps Volunteer’s unique position as an expert (or near-expert) on village life: what works and what does not, what is needed and what is not, and where to go from here. The next step remains to be seen, and much of it is up to us. Some partnerships are certainly easier than others, and a Volunteer ultimately works in service of a host community. Yet it is beneficial to know that many of the organizations with which PCVs do not often to collaborate are working to meet many of the same goals as we are, everyday. The knowledge we gain during our services not only strengthens the Peace Corps program and helps future volunteers, but can also be used for the benefit of other organizations in Mali. If you learn about something new and exciting happening in your area, share it. If you attend a training or a conference, share that, too, with Americans, Malians, or otherwise. Great strides are being made in communication technology, and we have a wealth of resources and partners at our fingertips. What form this sharing takes is up to us.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Bobaraba
A few months ago, a neighbor's dog gave birth to an adorable litter of puppies that I admired from afar. A few weeks later, the people I share a courtyard with brought one home. When he first arrived, he was cute and soft, like puppies should be:
But they tied him up in the sun on a short leash without enough food and water, so he got really skinny. He cried a lot, and the neighbors still paid no attention to him. So, when I couldn't watch any more, I took him off the leash and started taking care of him. I was worried the neighbors would get mad at me for implying that they were neglecting their dog, but I don't think they cared one way or the other. Dogs aren't seen as members of the family here. Most don't get fed on a regular basis, and are never played with or exercised. I think their attitude is more as follows: If I want to feed him, that's great. If not, they'll do what they can.
I made him a bed out of a postal box, and a water dish from an old margarine tub, and the neighbors brought him over a plate:
Since then, he's gone through a really ugly big-ears phase:
and a really cute sleeping-in-his-box phase:
For Christmas I made him a chew toy out of some old clothes:
And now he's a happy dog. I buy him dried fish at market, and I brought him some dog treats from one of the fancy grocery stores in Bamako. I am bringing him back some hard-boiled eggs today so he gets nice and fat. He also has a squeaky toy that he mostly just likes to chew on, not so much to make noise with. Other than that, he likes to play with his littermates, who live in the area.
I had been wanting a pet here for a long time, but I couldn't justify doing it because I knew I wouldn't be able to take care of one the way I would want to. (Meaning, the American way. The Malian way is to let animals fend for themselves.) Life here is rough for everyone, animals included, and it's almost impossible to take care of them the way they "should" be. So I think this is a good compromise. He lives a normal Malian life with the added bonus of having a rich person to take care of him when she's around. And I don't have to worry about someone watching out for him when I'm out of town, because the neighbors know that he's ultimately theirs.
He's a good puppy. He comes when I call him, and he accompanies me to the well. He's been adventuring further and further from the house, too. Maybe someday he will come with me on my bike rides; I could always use the company. He's a messy eater and he digs holes in the ground, but he eats from my hand without biting and he likes to be scratched behind the ears. Dogs are the same everywhere.
People have been asking me what his name is. Most dogs here have the same names: Tupas, Patience, or Polici. Seeing as how he was not my dog, and because I couldn't think of anything, I just told people he didn't have a name. One can only go nameless for so long, though, so I finally gave him the name Butt Butt. It was the best I could do. And when I told the Malians his new name, they couldn't pronounce it. So I thought of something even better: Bobaraba. "Bobaraba" means "big butt" in Dioula and Bambara. There is a whole song about it, glorifying women's butts, essentially; very popular all over West Africa:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobaraba
Needless to say the Malians find this hilarious. And Bobaraba was born.
But they tied him up in the sun on a short leash without enough food and water, so he got really skinny. He cried a lot, and the neighbors still paid no attention to him. So, when I couldn't watch any more, I took him off the leash and started taking care of him. I was worried the neighbors would get mad at me for implying that they were neglecting their dog, but I don't think they cared one way or the other. Dogs aren't seen as members of the family here. Most don't get fed on a regular basis, and are never played with or exercised. I think their attitude is more as follows: If I want to feed him, that's great. If not, they'll do what they can.
I made him a bed out of a postal box, and a water dish from an old margarine tub, and the neighbors brought him over a plate:
Since then, he's gone through a really ugly big-ears phase:
and a really cute sleeping-in-his-box phase:
For Christmas I made him a chew toy out of some old clothes:
And now he's a happy dog. I buy him dried fish at market, and I brought him some dog treats from one of the fancy grocery stores in Bamako. I am bringing him back some hard-boiled eggs today so he gets nice and fat. He also has a squeaky toy that he mostly just likes to chew on, not so much to make noise with. Other than that, he likes to play with his littermates, who live in the area.
I had been wanting a pet here for a long time, but I couldn't justify doing it because I knew I wouldn't be able to take care of one the way I would want to. (Meaning, the American way. The Malian way is to let animals fend for themselves.) Life here is rough for everyone, animals included, and it's almost impossible to take care of them the way they "should" be. So I think this is a good compromise. He lives a normal Malian life with the added bonus of having a rich person to take care of him when she's around. And I don't have to worry about someone watching out for him when I'm out of town, because the neighbors know that he's ultimately theirs.
He's a good puppy. He comes when I call him, and he accompanies me to the well. He's been adventuring further and further from the house, too. Maybe someday he will come with me on my bike rides; I could always use the company. He's a messy eater and he digs holes in the ground, but he eats from my hand without biting and he likes to be scratched behind the ears. Dogs are the same everywhere.
People have been asking me what his name is. Most dogs here have the same names: Tupas, Patience, or Polici. Seeing as how he was not my dog, and because I couldn't think of anything, I just told people he didn't have a name. One can only go nameless for so long, though, so I finally gave him the name Butt Butt. It was the best I could do. And when I told the Malians his new name, they couldn't pronounce it. So I thought of something even better: Bobaraba. "Bobaraba" means "big butt" in Dioula and Bambara. There is a whole song about it, glorifying women's butts, essentially; very popular all over West Africa:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobaraba
Needless to say the Malians find this hilarious. And Bobaraba was born.
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