My sister Aicha is spending the summer observing women and children with HIV/AIDS in Africa to improve treatment. She has been in love with Africa ever since she went there as a Peace Corps volunteer ten summers ago. Her specialty back then was agroforestry, which meant she taught farmers in the Fouta region of Guinea basic farming techniques.

My mother bought me a plane ticket to visit Aicha, above, in Guinea for my college graduation present. Three days after leaving New York City we arrived in the remote village of Poredaka and settled in for a four week visit. Roads? Ha! Electricity? Ha! Rice for every meal? Yes! Well water that must be boiled? You betcha!

When I arrived my sister had been living in Guinea for a year already. Two things struck me about her concrete, one-room home. The toilet and shower drain were one in the same. And there was a dog-eared copy  of Where There is no Doctor by her bedside.

Aicha, who had no formal medical training then, relied on that book for 28 months. After she introduced me to just about every person in the village, I knew the people of Poredaka didn’t even have a book about doctors. Everyone had a festering wound, missing digit or noticeable scar – things that ibuprofen and Neosporin would do wonders for. And that was just what I saw in four weeks.

During her two years in Guinea Aicha trained many farmers, but she realized she could help a lot more people as a nurse. She has returned many times since leaving the Corps, but this is her first time in Africa as a nurse.

This summer she is working for ICAP, the International Center for AIDS Treatment and Programs, in the Ivory Coast (Cote d’Ivoire). You can read about her adventures on the Africa Nurse blog, which is written by another nurse named Mara, who is working closely with her.

One recent post on Africa Nurse blog tells of six things Mara learned since arriving in Africa, including the art of the bucket bath, the importance of having an African name, and just how little locals know about AIDS. A snipet about going dancing:

Last night, as nostalgic for our friends as for the running water in Abidjan, we decided to suck it up and check out “King Discotheque” next door.  It did not disappoint.  The music was just as good as it was en ville, and the setup was exactly the same.  The culture of going out dancing here has nothing much to do with pairing up—quite the opposite, actually.  With my sample size of two dance clubs, I can now conclude that what you’re supposed to do is get dressed to the nines and then go dance by yourself in front of the full-length mirror that will inevitably cover one of the walls, staring at yourself.  All night.

Also, the the music will inevitably be interrupted every few minutes by a DJ shouting something or other.  Last night’s interruption-shouting theme was “Aaaaaaaaicha!”, and some form of my name, alternately, “Maaaaara!”, “Maaaaaria!”, “Maaaaaariam!” or “Maaaaariama!”  It’s the most famous I’ve ever felt.

Check out the Africa Nurse blog!

Tagged: on Friday, June 19, 2009 · 6 Comments »