No Good Deed Goes Unpunished in Africa

I have returned to Boghe in order to purchase roofing materials in the market tomorrow morning. Although I am still working through some problems with monetary reimbursement from the Peace Corps I am optimistic that I will at least be able to report an estimated time of completion by the end of the week. Earlier last week I aided my host brother in moving and packing dirt for a raised platform outside my room that will likely be covered in the upcoming months to provide a cooler place to sleep and pass the day. Overall, I am optimistic that my living situation will drastically improve ‘tout de suite” (a favorite saying of the Mauritanians literally meaning “at once” but that more often refers to a time period between immediately and a week from tomorrow, no matter the question) and hope to post pictures of the finished project on my next visit to Boghe.
Did not work at the health post this week because neither of the nurses were in the village! Although the OloOlogo health post is technically operated by two nurses, the male ‘head nurse’ and the female ‘midwife,’ with the help of two assistants, the head nurse has been present in the building for less than 40 days since my arrival on 1 September 2008. Even during his short presence in late 2008, he appeared to do minimal work in the office and often sent patients to the midwife for diagnosis and treatment while he merely assigned numbers in the logbook and collected the fees for treatment and medicines. I am still astonished, although unreasonably so, that he is able to maintain his position of power and title of influence without being present to be a beneficial participant in the health post, but This Is Africa! Mauritania is governed on a corrupt and extremely patriarchal system which often provides positions of power and authority to male family members or friends instead of appointments based on qualification or entitlement. Thus, even though the midwife performs more than her share of the work she remains subordinate to her male “counterpart” with limited participation in regards to overall governing of the workplace.
Since I did not go to the health post all week, instead I spent hours cooking spaghetti for my host family in OloOlogo one evening as a form of cultural exchange, only to be frustrated by most of the family refusing to taste my international cuisine. I had been warned that it was likely they would not enjoy untraditional flavors, but I was inspired to prove my cooking abilities after being constantly teased that I would make a bad African wife due to my inability to cook; however, I was annoyed when many refused to even taste and the few who did adventure to into the bowl ate a spoonful before refusing to eat more. I did find a few villagers who eagerly ate my cooking with some compliments but overall I learned a lot from the experience including the general lack of willingness to try something new or actively learn about other cultures.
Also, I presented my family with some photo prints of the village that I had taken since my arrival. After looking through the stack several times I had multiple people seek me out to demand copies of the “other” photos. It seems they were not satisfied with the selection that I gave them and wanted the other hundred printed and available for their review next time I returned from Boghe. I tried to explain that it was not quite that simple but the rural Mauritanians have little to no understanding of the post system and when I said it could take months they were extremely disappointed. Further proof that no good deed goes unpunished…
Was sitting outside reading and talking with my host father mid-week when I looked up and noticed a dirty haze moving rapidly in my direction. Quickly gathering my belongings and the mat I was sitting on, I rushed inside the house seconds before a massive sandstorm hit the village. Looking out the open front door, the storm reminded me of a hurricane as I watched the sky darken and the trees bend violently towards the ground, threatening to snap. Although the rhythmic chant of falling rain was missing, it was replaced by howling wind that carried sand through every hole in the walls and windows covering my room in dust and creating wave like patterns across all flat surfaces.