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Letter #8, 10-3-01, Ndendé Dear Mom and Dad, Around 5:00 pm it gets really windy out and my door creaks open and shut and my new blue curtains flap around. The house is slowly getting in order - my furniture is here, I have a tablecloth, I hung up my map of Gabon and a calendar of 2001 that Mike made. I killed 10 minutes coloring in my trip to Mali and Paris and stage and wrote in birthdays and anniversaries. I put up the Mali pics you sent on my hallway wall, so I can see them from my comfy chair. Today I waited at home for the landlord to come finish the wash sink and put in another lock, but no one showed up except Nyonyo, who keeps asking for underwear and food and money, but who also wants to learn how to calculate her cycle so she won't get pregnant. She's 14 and I tell her condoms are better and I showed her how to use them, but she's pretty set on the cycle method even though it's complicated and doesn't work and doesn't protect against STDs. "I want to have it in my head so I know when I can't get pregnant," she says. I don't know what the rush is -- she's still a virgin and doesn't really understand sex (ok -- reproduction) but the fact is girls find boyfriends so they can get them to pay for things -- like underwear, or a new outfit, or school supplies. Her sister Marie went to Bongolo, the missionary hospital in Lebamba, to get treated for PID (pelvic inflammatory disease). Marie's really nice and Nyonyo's all right -- they're very average. I started work at the hospital -- right now I write up carnets (booklets for pregnant women and babies to keep track of vaccinations, visits, weight charts, etc.) and observe. 7 or 8 women came last Wed. for 1st trimester visits, and most were actually in their 2nd trimester. A bunch had yeast infections and anemia and scabies and Marie-Blanche the sage-femme gave them prescriptions for drugs and cremes but I doubt they'll get them. A lot didn't have the money (4500 CFA) for the visit even. Marie-Blanche is cool, a very strong slender well dressed lady about 35 -- she's very firm with the women -- "you go to the pharmacy -- you buy this you take it for a month you understand." It's somewhat harsh, born from seeing a lot of sick women and knowing they don't have means to take care of themselves. She also hasn't been paid for 2 years but she laughs about that, the same way she laughed the day I met her. She was scolding Marguerite, the matronne (a midwife with no formal training) for having left a new mom alone. The woman ended up bleeding heavily and might have died and they were arguing and Marguerite defended herself -- "she was fine when I left, not my problem, let them take me to court and we'll see who's right!" A serious thing, but laughter cuts the tension. Or maybe adds to it, at least for me. It's definitely not happy laughter. Anyway, Thursday we vaccinated 100 babies and that was a mess. Polio, DipT et Whooping cough, measles and BCG(?) are free so that brings 'em in. Baby weighing, where we measure and chart and tell the mamas what to feed them, only brough 10 mamas. Two very big babies (Nestle's evil baby porridge empire) and one 1-month old 1.7 kg Malian baby (there's no milk). I will be surprised if I see that kid next month. Having a routine is nice even if only for a few days a week, and I'm figuring out how things work and what might be needed. School is starting soon so the kids are back and the draguers are at work. I've discovered that I'm basically the only source of good condoms, not that many people use them. It's so logical to use -- condoms prevent disease and pregnancy -- but I am still trying to understand the lack of awareness here. I know they know the risks. But the behavior doesn't change. I would really like to see more and better ads on radio and TV but Bongo doesn't care about his people. Change doesn't happen overnight. I've been hanging out with the women at the hospital and Ma Christine, and I'm getting to know the Malians in the marché now too. There are a lot of people who know me and say hi Ana when I go into town, but I can't always remember where I know them from. I went to Mama Bissyelu's plantation and didn't really enjoy it -- I think I'm pretty lazy. We picked up burnt wood and got dirty and then dug up manioc and cut sugar cane and chewed on it. Mike got to chop stuff with a machete but I just kept thinking if only these people had rakes! It was picking up wet burnt straw and sticks and vines with bare hands. They don't even have hoes, just machetes. The women have these big circular baskets that are narrower
I feel kinda useless today because I didn't get out and I ate too many frites for lunch, but Chikwang is sweet and likes to sleep on my feet while I write or read, and Nyonyo was here for 3 hours, and maybe she learned something. My goal was to hang out at the hospital but waiting for the landlord killed that. Next step is dragging Mike to the bars to drink Coke and meet people and find out about condom attitudes. He's wrapped up in building furniture but he needs to get out as do I. Most of Ndendé thinks he's my husband and that's fine with me, though if people ask I tell them he's my brother (and my husband/fiancé is elsewhere). This month I need to get to Mouila to bank and call home, Tchibanga to see Kara and UNHCR, and Lebamba to hang out with Tracy and Julie. One of the language facilitators, Arsène, said he was coming down to visit family in TCH, but I have the feeling he's not gonna make it. School's started already in LBV, at least that's the report, so he's busy teaching. There's only a month before Halloween at the abandoned missionary village so I better get on the road! I miss you tons but I figure I could be on my own and cooking for myself in some strange U.S. city with no friends and that would be much worse than here because I would be doing nothing. I hope the leaves are pretty, and don't take your rakes for granted :) Love, Hannah |
at the bottom, and they carry them with a strap that puts the weight on their forehead. Not many people carry stuff on their heads, unless they don't have a basket. At the plantation, we gathered nzounzoubali, which are like cranberries but slightly bigger and with a tougher skin. Mike and I made crisp by toasting oatmeal and adding peanut butter, and stewing the fruit. It was really good for the first 10 bites and then our teeth fell out from the acid. I made French fries yesterday, and I've made jambalaya, and mashed potatoes with mustard onion sauce, and pancakes. I feel like I'm doing pretty well with one pot and one fry pan and one knife and no fridge and no oven. I don't notice the no fridge and only regret the oven when I see the cookies section in the Gabongourmet.