World AIDS Day

Since December 1^st was World AIDS day, I decided that my counterpart and I should have a discussion with the community about what AIDS is and how to prevent it. There are so many myths here about HIV and AIDS (that it only comes from Cote d’Ivoire, that only prostitutes can have AIDS, that white people have a cure, etc.) so I thought that dispelling those myths would be a good start.

We picked a Friday market day, which are always super busy since it’s also the day when people don’t go out to work in the fields. We were set up by 9am but since we’re dealing with West African International Time (WAIT), I only had a few women from the women’s association there with me on time. We hung tight and since there were balafons playing, we just had a great time dancing and started to draw a crowd. Of course, the nosortia (white person) always draws a crowd, but especially when she’s dancing. On this day I also had jabi, the patterned black dye on my feet, which my neighbor Alimatou has been working on every night for the past 3 nights. I kept getting compliments from the village women “kofa, deh!” which translates roughly as “pretty, ay!”

We drew a pretty big crowd, about 50 people at one point- young and old, women and men. My counterpart read off the phrases in Gouin and then the chief of the village repeated them in Jula. Then I would pick someone in the crowd who would say whether it was true or false and why. If they were correct, I’d give them either hard soap and or Chinese green tea (both very popular here) and condoms which the young men in the crowd were especially happy about.

After the true or false portion, we discussed what HIV/AIDS is, how you can prevent getting HIV, how you can find out whether or not you’re HIV positive, etc. My counterpart, who works at the health center, explained the difference between a treatment and a cure and really stressed fidelity and regular HIV testing as a means of prevention. I also think we helped to remove some of the stigma of HIV being a disease for only promiscuous women, since it only takes one time with one person, even if it’s with your husband, to become HIV positive.

Afterwards, we all danced to the balafons, even the women carrying babies on their backs! I think they were a little surprised that I could hold my own with the other women dancing to the beat of the balafons. Later when I was buying my vegetables at the market the women kept coming up to me and saying “toubabmuso be se ka donkay, deh!” which is basically the Jula equivalent of “white girl can dance, ay!”

The chief keeps saying that I am his new wife despite my repeated refusals and my reminders that he already has several wives. Nevertheless, I haven’t quite learned to say no to the chief yet since I feel like he is my adopted Bill Cosby-esque grandpa in village so when he asked I ended up dancing with him at the front of the circle. 

All in all, I think it was a pretty good day!

Peace,

Marlow

What is "chalkboard"?

As a Peace Corps volunteer, I am an employee of the U.S. government living abroad. A representative, if you will, of all that America stands for. As taxpayers, I want you to know that I take this role very seriously and I only present the best of what the U.S. has to offer.

Case in point: Jeopardy! I’ve taught over 100 African children how to play this game already. You’re welcome. But seriously, whether it’s learning about HIV/AIDS in my girls club or reviewing for an English test with my collège students, they love it. I tape the double-sided candy-colored papers up on the chalkboard (one side with the category and amount of points and the other side with the answer… like I said, I take this seriously). The grand prize: American candy. Twizzlers, jelly beans, you name it. And the crazy thing is they actually started studying. I don’t think it’s to do well on the test but rather so that their team can win the “Jeopardy! English Review Edition” the day before.

And for a village and ethnic group that I’m told started out as entirely communal, when there is candy (and glory) at stake, these kids get pretty competitive, demanding that I review the points I gave to a team or quietly humming the Jeopardy! theme song when a kid is taking a long time to answer. Okay, okay, so I taught them that. But you can’t really have Jeopardy without the theme song, right?

So maybe I introduced Jeopardy a little for my own benefit, too: to bring a tiny piece of my former American culture to my now very African village life so that I feel at home. It may not be exactly the same thing (I’m the host instead of Alex Trebeck and we skip the boring life story segment in the middle) but I actually think it’s an improved version.

And nothing puts a smile on my face like Adama shooting his hand into the air and then rising, stoic and scholarly-like in true Jeopardy fashion, to say “Wat eeez thee chokebowd?” (Clue in French “L’enseignant écrit sur cet objet pendant la leçon.”) Their team erupts in cheers as he quietly takes his seat, motioning with his hands and saying “la silence” so that everyone quiets down (I’ve explained that Jeopardy is not like a football match, it’s a serious academic quiz show which requires etiquette).I correct his pronunciation before giving them their 1000 points. They’re so close they can almost taste the jelly beans…