But Where is the Roof?

I discovered many small changes when I returned to site on the 12th of January including a new raised road being built behind my host families compound that will supposedly connect the village to Boghe, completed walls on my room [although the roof is another story], two extremely pregnant looking host sisters, as well as the closest well has apparently run out of water. ..Just another reminder of how much can change in a short period of time!
Although the walls of my house are complete and look beautiful, the roof is nonexistent which was a huge disappointment when I arrived back at site. After several days of confusion, I eventually talked to my host father and learned that he is still waiting on the Peace Corps to pay for it out of Safety and Security funds that he was told would be readily accessible when I originally visited the area in late July – wish I had known this months ago so I could have been getting estimates and submitting paperwork, but TIA (“This is Africa”)! So, I have returned to Boghe this weekend to catch up on some paperwork for Washington as well as go to a local hardware store and use my new French construction vocabulary to discover the price of a variety of roofing supplies including kilo le fil de fer (iron wire), le poutre (wood beam), kilo#10 les clou (nails), Liibar#5 les clou, and a sack of le cement (cement). I have been ensured by my host father that the ceiling will not take long to construct once he receives the supplies so I am wishing daily for a quick turn around and hopefully the materials will be delivered to OloOlogo before I travel south to Dakar in mid-February.
In an effort to gain a better grasp of both Pulaar and French I have begun spending two days each week reviewing notes, dictionaries, language books and a variety of other resources in hopes of eventually being able to efficiently communicate health related material to every person I speak to. Although I am confident of my personal knowledge regarding most health problems in the country I find that the language barrier is my biggest restraint as I try to progress in my work and am thus trying to remedy the situation. Wish me luck!
Do not have a lot of new or interesting things to report from the last few weeks since most of the cases at the health post were same old malaria, pregnancies, and infections that are encountered on a daily basis with little variation and are treated with lots of pills but no examination.
Seven months into my service and I am still highly disturbed by the daily slaps bestowed upon children within the community. Early last week a 10 year old boy was brought into the health post by his father because he had a painful infection on his scalp. Approximately 5 inches in diameter, the circular area was red, raised, and warm to the touch and slightly resembled an offset yomaca and was likely caused by a badly cleaned razor blade. When the nurse told the child’s father he needed to go and buy a razor blade so that the wound could be lanced, the child ran out of the room screaming. Twenty minutes later the child was dragged back in the office by his displeased father who was flushed and slightly out of breath after running throughout the village chasing the child! After a quick incision during which the child was hit multiple times for screaming, the wound was emptied by a large amount of puss and blood before being cleaned and covered and the child sent back to school for the afternoon classes. When the child returned several days later for another visit his mother help tightly to his arm as the nurse poked and prodded the area again to ensure it was healing appropriately and even underwent a few more slaps when he whimpered in fear at a second small lancing. Even though I understand that the culture encourages both men and women to undertake pain quietly as well as be respectful of their peers, I am still frustrated by the almost constant hitting that takes place between all members of society.
Additionally, I continue to be frustrated by the unwillingness of Mauritanians to admit when they are wrong or consider other points of views as well as the accepted practice of belittling as a form of encouragement. In Mauritania, children seem to be belittled on a daily basis by parents, teachers, and siblings in the hopes of encouraging them to be stronger and work harder. In opposition to the teaching methods and guidance I have learned throughout my life in the United States, I am deeply bothered by the children who I encounter on a daily basis who are indifferent to their individual attributes and abilities or the possibility of success since they are unable to see beyond their immediate future. This goes hand in hand with the Mauritanian belief that one should never admit they do not know the answer to a question or that they are wrong but should rather make up an answer or a response no matter whether they are a teacher, a parent or a peer, because to express uncertainty or to be incorrect is a sign of weakness. But more on that another day…

On an animal related side note, I have recently discovered the fun activity of “chicken chasing” whereby all the children of the family chase after chickens in hopes of catching them and shoving them into their “houses” for the night. Usually this involves, throwing rocks to force them out of the closest tree, searching for them in the closest building as well as running frantically around the yard with hopes of cornering them in an attempt to grab one or two by the legs before listening to them squawk horribly and flap their wings as they are carried upside down to the chicken coops!!