Ok, in all honesty, I started writing this blog over a month ago, and its original inspiration was the dark irony that the U.S., particularly my region, was experiencing devastating floods at the same time that Cameroon was in the middle of a pretty serious drought. You get what I was going for? Opposites. Anyway, I went on to talk about the nature of the drought, its implications for my village and so forth, in what I consider a delightful little commentary on rural populations' utter reliance on consistent climate patterns, and how scary this is in the face of current global trends. I was pretty happy with myself, until I forgot to upload it when I was internet-accessed, and realized by the time it would see the light of your computer screen, the floods would be extremely old news, and the drought talk completely obsolete. So, instead of providing further proof that I am quite severely behind the times, I scrapped all the weather talk and wrote an update of my projects. Out of sheer laziness (and the desire to thematically tie-in this introduction), the original title remains. Note: For insight into just how out of the American cultural loop I am, you need simply play me a hits station on the radio and watch my eyes dart around as I tentatively as who aldskf is.
Right now, our health team in the midst of two preventative campaigns, 'Polio Eradication' (government-mandated) and 'Breast Milk Promotion' (me-mandated). You can guess which has better funding. Polio is still crippling people here, despite its disappearance in the developed world circa 1940. I would estimate I know about ten people personally who've been wheelchair-bound since childhood (if they can afford the wheelchair-most can't) and though rates have slowed dramatically in the past ten years, (particularly) rural kids are still contracting polio through dirty water and ending up with malformed limbs and an almost complete inability to make a living. In urban areas, the majority of street beggars are polio victims, who literally crawl or slide around on their hands and knees with a plastic bowl for donations. Babies that come in for weighings and vaccinations receive the polio vaccine automatically via two drops of pink liquid in the mouth, paid for by the state (which means paid for by the WHO or other aid organizations). Normally I give it while a nurse gives the kid a tetanus shot; we've found its bitter taste to be a good distraction from the shock of the shot.
The campaign goes far above and beyond these measures. It's not called an 'eradication' for nothing. During the drives, generally 3-day weekends, nurses and community health workers and random volunteers literally go door to door ('saare be saare' in their language), giving any and every kid under 5 a few drops of the vaccine. Every neighborhood, outskirt village and rural site is accounted for, and every house mapped out. The goal is obviously to hit every kid, though the majority are already vaccinated. Incredibly, the main difficulty achieving this isn't a lack of organization or motivation from the volunteers (an issue common in most community health projects), but the refusal of parents to vaccinate their children. In central Bibemi, where I live and work, this isn't much of an issue, because the parents are educated enough, or the Good Word has spread enough that everyone understands the concept and utility of vaccinations. In the true country, however, villagers exhibit strong distrust of hospital staff and particularly their 'white medicine' ('lekki jey nassara'). Some believe the drops will harm the kids; others refuse to believe it's free; many just assume it's not necessary. The nature of these villages and their people make such reactions easier to understand, but I find describing such isolation and simplicity of lifestyle hard to articulate adequately for Americans. I'm gonna give it a college try.
There are places in Cameroon where a few extended families (a few hundred people) will live and farm miles from the next village. This is an issue because they have no method of transportation other than walking, and no hospital, school, or place to buy…well, anything at all. During the rainy season, they plant food to survive on the rest of the year, sometimes the same exact meal for weeks at a time. They sell their cash crops to buy clothes (like, one outfit per person per year) and other extremely basic amenities, which someone will walk maybe a day to purchase and bring back. If they're from the same tribe, they will speak mainly their tribal language, with some of the men learning Fulfulde to be able to communicate in outside markets. The women will never learn it, nor will they have use since most never leave the little village. Maybe someone knows a spot of French. These are places where tribal traditions from 100 years ago are alive and well, and with them the misinformation and ignorance progress has eradicated from 'civilized' Africa. Girls are married at 12, boys sent to the fields instead of school, and infant mortality is shameful.
I don't want to give the impression that the majority of Cameroonians live like this, or that such societies are completely devoid of societal value. This is the rural extreme, and most people live at least a little more in contact, with a few more amenities. I describe the bare minimum because I've seen communities like it, however few. The people are generally content, and their rewards are many within the family, but they must constantly give their absolute all merely to survive another month healthily.
Ok, so that was a bit of a sidetrack from the polio thing, but let's move on to talk about…BOOBS! I spend a lot of time researching maternal and child health topics for my health center, and the day I came upon 'exclusive breastfeeding,' it was rather like a key fitting nicely into a lock, or in this context, a baby's mouth fitting snugly onto a nipple. Illness among babies in their first 6 months are extremely dangerous and damaging, and the main reason for the high mortality rate. The kids get sick so much because they often lack basic natural immunizations, are poorly fed, and drink dirty water. Exclusive breastfeeding, which means giving only breast milk (and a lot of it) for the first 6 months, guards against all these risk factors, and it's free! The first days' milk ('colostrum' for those of you not in medical school) provides natural immunities tailor-made for the baby. Many babies go without because the mother believes the milk is bad, since it's generally yellow and stringy. All of the kid's essential vitamins, as well as complete hydration, are provided by breastmilk, so the baby doesn't need other food, like porridge, formula or even water until around 6 months. If the mother doesn't give water, it drastically lessens the chance of contamination, and if she gives it often, the baby ends up fat and extremely well-nourished.
Sounds simple, right? Just milk. But misconceptions about breastfeeding abound here, and it turns out almost 0 women actually practice exclusive breastfeeding. Since it's been found so tremendously effective in preventing infant death, our health center decided to launch a promotional campaign. This means we present and explain it at every consultation, talk it up in the neighborhoods, and visit women's group meetings to reinforce the drive. Pregnant women are particularly targeted. So far, women have been open to listen, and ask a lot of questions. It's clear many don't believe it really will keep their child healthy, because it's so deceptively simple. But more than any topic I've spoke on or promoted, I feel this one has the potential to save lives and leave results my coworkers will be able to see. It requires nothing but information and the confidence to try.
On a much more frivolous note, I finally have cell phone reception, a dream that's been eluding me for months. This means anyone feeling like hearing my voice is completely free to call; I make no promises on what it will cost you, but I will certainly answer, day or night. This luxury would of course kick in when I only have 5 months to go…
Anyway, nice chatting with you (I guess 'at you' is more accurate); hope everyone 'supportent bien' (is doing well). I'll write soon, when my lapse again becomes embarrassing. SLAV
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