Aahhh

Well, here it is, our years of planning, fundraising, months of work and hundreds of miles of biking are complete! Today is our last day in Kedougou. It is hard to leave this place that has become a second home. Today we are saying goodbye to friends and packing up, making final arrangements. Tomorrow morning we get up at 3 AM to catch the bus from Kedougou to Tambacounda, where we will then negotiate places on a station wagon, called a "set place". These cars are usually old wagons from europe that run like old lawn-mowers. It should take about 12 hours to get to dakar. It will be a long day to be sure.

Andy and I are exhausted and missing our homes, friends, families, food... etc. The next few days we'll be in dakar "on vacation" trying to spend as little money as possible.

thanks to all, our journey here was only possible because of the amazing support we received.
-jesse

Two women in Togue find some shade under their new nets.

Jesse shows the other villagers his dance moves. Note: no one else is dancing.

In Dindefelo Tanda, a Bassari woman and some children display their nets.

Jesse (left) and Andy (right) stand with two women from Thiarmalel.

The List

Village . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nets Given . . . .2005 Census Population

Busuura . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
Asoni . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .407
Afia Magazin . . . . . . . . . . 88 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .295
Afia Pont . . . . . . . . . . . . . .73 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .176
Wandintu . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Dar Salaam(#1) . . . . . . . . 10
Sylling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130
Boundicoundi . . . . . . . . . . 63 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
Nathia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
Thiarmalel . . . . . . . . . . . . 126 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
Mamakono Tanda . . . . . . 56 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .96
Alingal (Temasu) . . . . . . . 49 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .84
Dindefelo Tanda . . . . . . . . 61 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141
Dapata Pass . . . . . . . . . . . .33 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .46
Togue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .66
Dar Salaam(#2) . . . . . . . . 12
Bambaya Labourou . . . . . 41

I should note that the 2005 census is outdated, especially for some of the smaller villages here. We are looking for more recent numbers for these. Some villages were not included on the census we found, so we are looking for numbers for these too. Villages like Dapata Pass had no nets to begin with, had a population of workers who had branched off from another village to farm more distant fields (and did not have many children yet), and had more people than the 2005 census. Other villages like Boundicoundi have relatively more money and had more mosquito nets to begin with. There are variations in each village that changed the ratio of nets per person in each village. In a general way, I'd say we were liberal with nets in the villages. If somebody made a claim that they should have one, we'd listen why and usually give them one. We wanted to cover the entire population, because in general "herd coverage", as they call it, is the best way to statistically decrease the incidence of a population. If a young guy had three wives, we started by giving all his wives nets. If he made the case that he had his own hut and didn't spend the night with any of his wives that often, we gave him a net. Our main reason: If the guy is a jerk, he'd steal a net from one of his wives and leave her without protection. Most of these men, were definately not jerks, but its hard to tell. Jerks are out there, and we take the safe, liberal side of things and give them nets to protect the women.

Totals: 17 villages with complete coverage
1100 nets distributed
2600 people protected (rough estimate)

The Finish Line

I am exhausted. We've biked an immense amount over the last 6 and a half weeks, but it has been very rewarding. Yesterday, we biked to the villages of Togue, Dar Salaam (#2 for us, there are many villages named Dar Salaam) and Bambaya Labourou. These are at the wash at the bottom of a set of bluffs near a city called Fongolimbi. We decided to explore the turf out there, because we had heard that these villages were receiving a very low amount of health care support. When we arrived, we realized these rumors were true. In some of the other villages we covered, some of the population had managed to get mosquito nets, but out there, barely anybody had one. There were also increased eye infections. Our questions about malaria during our talk seemed harder to the populations in these villages. A pregnant woman in these villages in trouble would have to either walk up to the top of the bluffs to Fongolimbi or bike an hour and a half to two hours to get all the way to Kedougou. Our last village was Bambaya Labourou. When we were finished there, our nets were done, and now the Netlife team is trying to feel like it's on vacation. We do this mainly by trying to add cheese to more meals. After all, we need to bulk up. I (Andy) lost 5 kilos while I've been here and Jesse has lost 12 kilos. We'll be in Kedougou for a few more days then head to Dakar. I admit, I really miss home. I miss my loved ones and will be very happy to see them when I return.

Take care everyone.
-Andy

Outline of the Netlife Program

Ok. Once we arrive in the village, we have an opportunity to have a very receptive audience. We take advantage of this by teaching some important lessons about malaria and hand washing. This is all done in pulaar and much of it is in a question/answer format (ex: Ko honno jonte noje falorte hara nangani neddo? = what is the best way to protect people from malaria?)

I. Greetings - If we don't greet properly people are instantly turned off. They start thinking we aren't very respectful and start tuning out, so we greet quite thoroughly.

II. Who We Are - We introduce us by our names (Ablaye Diallo = Andy and Youssouf Diallo = Jesse) and by our organization. We say Netlife in english and explain Net equals moustiquaire (french) and sanke (pulaar). Life equals la vie (french) or nduurgam (pulaar). We emphasize the fact that Netlife is a new organization and that it is not the peace corps. We do this so people in these villages don't start expecting peace corps volunteers to start doing mosquito net distributions, because right now, they don't. We really don't want people in the villages driving the peace corps volunteers crazy with requests for nets,

III. Trouble In The Villages
A. We explain why we chose this particular village (distance from health care, large amounts of stagnant water, high number of positive malaria testing in the last few years)

B. Two main problems.
1. Diarrheal diseases - we talk about hand washing as the best preventative method. we emphasize the importance of hand washing before eating, cooking, after using the bathroom and after cleaning up poopy babies. we also emphasize the importance of using water AND SOAP.

2. Malaria - questions: What causes malaria? When is malaria dangerous? What happens when you get malaria/symptoms? What do you do if have malaria? What should you do if you are pregnant and want to avoid malaria? What is the best way to prevent malaria? When do you start using mosquito nets? When do you take down the mosquito nets? How can you ruin nets?

we answer all of these questions thoroughly with audience participation. a lot of this is fun. when we talk about when to put them up, we remind them that we brought the all the way from america to morocco, from morocco to dakar, from dakar to kedougou and from kedougou to whatever village we are in. if they don't put up the nets today, we'll kick their butts. and everyone laughs and understands. i should say that almost everyone knows the answers to these questions, which is reassuring. i once read an argument against nets claiming that people would use them as fishing nets or other odd uses. when i talk about how can people ruin nets and bring this up, they look at me as if i was crazy. the people we talk to understand the value of these nets and talking about fishing with them is the same as asking an american to use their wedding ring as a lure to catch a walleye.

We also review the new malaria testing that is being offered for free at area health posts. We highlight that the test can accurately can tell (really really) if you have malaria or not. The plus side is that if they don't, they won't have to spend too much money on drugs. Also, the more testing that occurs in these areas, the more accurate the data will be reflecting the actual incidence of malaria.

IV. Details Of The Nets - We start with the truth - These nets are awesome. They are big. They have insecticide inside the fibers that can last up to four years. They can be washed up to 20 times before the insecticide is ineffective. After 20 washes, if the net is still intact, you can have retreated with insecticide at the local health post.

V. This Is The End - We tell these villages that we're basically done, that we're never coming back. This isn't necessarily the truth, but we want to make sure that the people don't put off buying a net while thinking we will come back soon. We emphasize that if their net goes bad, to buy another one as soon as possible. Do not wait for another project like this to come by here.

VI: Take Home Points - From the returns on the new malaria test so far, we can see a high rate of positive malaria tests during the months of September and October- after rainy season is done. If you want to avoid malaria during bad times, you should keep the net up until the end of November. Ideally, we want you to have the nets up year round, but at least through November.

We also know that some people may have two nets or will someday have two nets. We explain that we are doing this project to help people in the rural areas, and we just want to make sure people in rural areas have more access to nets. We encourage anyone that has two nets to give one to someone (a relative or whoever, ideally a pregnant woman or a woman with children) in another rural village. We encourage not giving them to people in cities like Kedougou or Tambacounda, because our emphasis is rural and people in cities are already lucky enough to have access to better health care.

Then we distribute the nets, dance and eat lunch. Then we take a few deep breaths and go on to the next village.

Be in peace
-Andy

Ok. Back in time. After our distribution in Busuura, we prepared for a complicated set of distributions way out west in the villages of Afia Magazin, Afia Pont, Asoni, Wandintu and Dar Salaam. These were complicated because, as a special treat, we recruited the old theater experts from Thioke Thian to perform an informative skit about malaria there. Doing something like this while organizing the transport of the mosquito nets to the Afia are took some coordination. While I (Andy) went to Thioke Thian to hunt down the five members of the Thioke Thian Theater Company (TTTC), Jesse schmoozed with the local beverage distributor company in order to borrow one of their trucks for the day. The plan was, I was to make sure the Thioke Thianers got to the city of Ibel in a window period while the beverage truck (now loaded with mosquito nets and bikes) passed by, so we could load everyone on the truck to the Afia area. I expected some headaches during this plan, and well, I predicted well. Walking/biking the TTTC to Ibel was actually not that bad. We were in good spirits, and I had arranged for a fat lunch in Ibel. We got there, ate well and waited for the truck. Eventually, Jesse and the truck got there. The driver was asking for more and more money even though we clearly already arranged a price, but other than that, it seemed like we would pull things off relatively smoothly. That was when the Gendarmerie pulled us over to inspect things. This had happened in the past and was no problem when they found out the details of our mosquito net project, so I was more annoyed with the delay more than anything else. They questioned our driver for a while while we waited in the truck. He laid out his papers on the road, his license and whathaveyou. He came back angry and told me to talk to the Gendarmerie. It turns out his insurance had expired a few days ago. I calmly explained our project, how we were bringing mosquito nets and educators out to the villages furthest away from health care access. They calmly explained that they must immobilize the truck, arrest the driver and take him back to Kedougou to fine him while we waited by the side of the road. The TTTC members were by the side of the road now and were getting fussy. To be honest, they aren't much fun to travel with. They want everything to go very smooth or they start acting like the world might end soon. I imagine it sort of like bringing a bunch of teenagers to prom and having the car break down. The Gendarmerie truck drove thirty yards up the road and parked. They were waiting for us to figure out exactly how much it was worth to us to continue on this trip without waiting for the arrest and return of the driver. I was livid. This was a less than stellar moment for me, because I was in the mindset that we were trying to help the Senegal people here, and the Senegalese Gendarmerie was waiting for a bribe. I told Jesse that a person as angry as I was was a bad negotiator, so he and one of the theater company members went to talk to the local Gendarmerie. As I waited by the side of the road, the groups would talk, then the Gendarmerie truck would start and drive about ten yards. Then the groups would talk again. Then the truck would start and drive about ten more yards. It was like an older teenager picking up his little brother at middle school. Finally, they returned and said that a deal was made. Jesse had offered 2000 cfa, which the others assured me was the standard bribe for something like this. They started to drive away and Jesse offered 4000, which was a bit ridiculous. The Gendarmes demanded 10000, which was bonafide ridiculous, considering the nature of transportation. After Jesse paid the bribe, everyone agreed that the driver would pay us back, since it was obviously his fault that he had no insurance. I haven't seen that driver since.

After that little bump in the road, we arrived in Afia Magasin and unloaded the nets. We met with the chief and gave him some rice and seasonings to help with the dinner load of all the new guests. We found out that the water supply of Afia Magasin is a river (which was dry), so we had to bike a few kilometers up the road to get water back to the gang. Dinner arrived, plain rice with some oil, which wasn't exactly the TTTC expected for a prom dinner. We weren't really offered places to sleep, so we slept on mats on the ground. Overall, Afia Magasin was a hole and the people there weren't as hospitable as others I've met in the area. Although our night there was uncomfortable and miserable, it made me happier that we were there. After all, we were here to help the poorest of the poor, and this was definately it. This village was far away from health care access, a good water supply and just about everything. They needed the help we could give.

The next day everyone rallied. The TTTC members were laughing more like teenagers at summer camp than teenagers that had a miserable prom. They put together a great skit about a man and wife dealing with the problems related to malaria. There's even some great argument scenes as the couple's friend urges the cheapo husband to buy a mosquito net for his wife. The whole thing was vastly entertaining for the audience. After they were done, Jesse talked for a bit and introduced our organization and why we were there. Then, I talked about all the other details of malaria and our nets (I'll outline our talk in another blog). Then we read the list of names of all the village women that needed nets and distributed them. Then we read names of the old guys that don't sleep in the same bed as their wives anymore. Then we read the list of single guys who have their own huts and beds. Then there was some dancing and lunch. Afia Magasin was covered, and after this whole thing was done, I could tell that it really needed our support.

My story telling is going downhill ("Then there was some dancing and lunch?"), so I'll take a break from this sweaty cybercafe and this slightly broken bright lime green monitor. Be in peace.

-Andy

Just a comment on village names. They often get spelled in random ways around here and on maps. When we write these blogs, we just sort of pick one way of spelling them and run with it. I think Jesse and I use different spelling for the same cities. I need to take a blog break for now, but I'll post all the village names and few other things later. Thanks.

-Andy

For some reason I can't title this, but if I could it would be "All Sorts of Crazy". Yes, it's been quite a while since the last blog, but at least we got some pictures up. We've been busy, which is good, good news.

I'll go in a reverse order sort of manner, mainly because I remember the last events the best, and it just makes for better story telling. Yesterday was a very tiring, but incredibly rewarding day. We started out in my old village Thioke Thian (pronounced Chokey Chan) and wanted to head north, past Thiabedji, to Thiarmalel. Since I absolutely despise the sun, we woke up at 5:30 and made it to Thiarmalel a little after 7AM. There we met with a great bunch of guys, lead by a kid named Marif Diallo. Since Netlife had been having problems with the lists of village women being incomplete, we decided to sit with Marif and company and lightheartedly grill him on the fact that if he didn't write down every woman in the village, they would get crazy-mad at him. After the list of Thiarmalel was finished, we biked to Mamakono Tanda where we picked up another kid named Marcel. Marcel was very helpful and a true regulator about making complete lists. However, he had no bike, so he ended up on the back of mine. Over the next four hours we made our way from Mamakono Tanda to Temasu to Dindefelo Tanda to Dapata Pass, all with Marcel on the back of my bike, all with a sun that sort of felt like two suns - seeming to burn my face and the back of my neck at the same time. By the time we got to Dapata Pass, I was exhausted and really wanted to go back to Thiarmalel to rest for a while. However, when we got to Dapata Pass, the whole village was deserted. They had all went to a Kiile.

The word Kiile deserves its own paragraph for its absurd functionality. A Kiile is a field work "party". Essentially this occurs when someone is a little bit behind on his crop work and needs to lure his friends to work in his field for a day with above average food. This is what its like: its 10 degrees hotter than the hottest day you can remember in america, there's not a cloud in the sky, you have a hoe in your hand thats a bit over a foot long causing your hips to bend your back to a pike position (head a foot from the ground, butt sticking out toward the mountain tops), theres some guy chanting how great it is that the field owner is giving you food and asking you to work faster, there's all these guys and gals working around you like wildfire and you have no idea what the young sprout of a peanut plant even looks like. In other words its about THE worst "party" you could ever imagine.

So we follow Marcel to the Dapata Pass Kiile. As we sit on some rocks next the field, the picture looks like this. A valley extends from the left, sloping downward to the right. There are some termite mounds twice my size at the base, with a few short palm trees. The rest is all young, thin tree stumps and red colored rocks called latterite. Note that I did not mention any signs of things actually growing in the field. There are two kids in yellow shirts running at full speed down and up to the valley's opposite side to bring palm wine to the party (which does make this party a bit more interesting than usual). To my far left, sitting on the rocks are two teenagers in loin cloths who, as part of their circumsicion ritual, have been hiding in the bush for the last few days. They've come to steal some food and palm wine. Next to me are three old men with knitted hats and hoes listing off women in their village. To my right are three children crying bloody murder because they're looking at my skin and thinking "my god, what is this monster going to do to me." I get this a lot. On my far right, sloping toward the base of the valley are the people working the Kiile. They're growing Funio, which is a grain that ends up a delicious and nutritious cous cous that grows best in rocky terrain. The slope of this hill is only rocks. Its as if they're trying to grow crops in the gravel alley by my house in my home town. They hoe the ground up and dust is flying everywhere. It looks more like they're making the worst Zen garden ever greated than actually expecting life to eventually grow and exist there.

But they know what they're doing and all is well. We get thourough lists from all five villages out there and head home. In Thiarmalel, we pass out for two hours, then wake up, chug water and get back on the bike again. I have to get back here, to Kedougou because some Buusura people and Natia people are coming to town to pick up some more nets. As we ride for three more hours (yes that makes the total around 7 hours, with Marcel on the back of the bike for about two of them) back to Kedougou, I'm very happy how the day went. We were able to visit all the villages in one day and make good plans on the upcoming distribution there. In Kedougou, I deserve a cold Coke. Maybe two.

-Andy

This is Eric Bittner. He was studying Wolof in Dakar and decided to come down to Kedougou to visit. He wanted to go to Dindefelo. We needed to send a message out that way, so we loaned him a bike and make him in charge of Netlife Courier Services. On the way back from Dindefelo, Eric was engulfed in a rainstorm. When he arrived back in Kedougou, he was very muddy, wet and tired. He was glad to visit Dindefelo, and we were very thankful that he could help us deliver a message to the folks down there.

Andy adds a side lesson about hand washing at our distribution by having a baby mimick eating at a bowl in a typical meal setting.

Jesse uses Pulaar to greet the people of Asoni and explain our program.

Andy is shown here upon arrival into Asoni. This was the largest village we've seen on this tour so far with a population of about 450 people.

More dancing in Afia Pont.

The women of Afia Pont dance after our distribution there. It was hot and sweaty, but nobody cared. No mosquitos would bother anyone that night.

Jesse shakes hands with a woman from Afia Pont. The man standing in the background is Fula Diallo, the local health agent from Asoni. He was our "premiere etoile" in helping organize our efforts in this area.

After the play has finished and we've talked about malaria issues, we distribute the nets to the village women. Here, Andy is handing over some much needed help.

The Thioke Thian theater company continues its play in front of the five village audience.

A troop of Thioke Thian villagers perform a play about a man and pregnant woman who deal with the troubles of malaria. We recruited these guys to perform for people in the village of Afia Magazine and turned out to have an audience including people from four other villages. The two people on the left are pretending to work in the field as the audience looks on.

Andy (left) and Jesse (right), on the road near Patassi. We were lucky enough to have Salu with us, as he turned out to be a pretty decent photographer.

Jesse and Bodji (left) write information on the mosquito net tag before presenting it to this Busuura woman.

Andy speaks in Pulaar to the people of Busuura. He explains concepts of malaria prevention, malaria symptoms, action plans and how to take care of the new mosquito nets.

Jesse scores a chicken for lunch from the chief of Busuura during our distribution there.

Andy and Bodji after a rainy season downpour.

Jesse hangs out with the kids in Dindefelo. The nurse in Dindefelo, Bodji, has a nice building in which he lives. While we were here, we ate very well and had our version of the village day spa.

Andy waves while taking a shower at the Dindefelo waterfall.

Jesse makes a friend in Dindefelo.

Andy and his village father, Bocar Diallo. Bocar is the chief of Thioke Thian and was very helpful in organizing our distribution there in 2005.

Salu Diallo in Thioke Thian making tea. This is the kid with crazy bad feet that we've been trying to find ways to help. He smiles like this pretty much all the time. He is incredibly helpful with just about everything.

Jesse's accomidations in Thioke Thian. The chickens have left for a vacation.

Netlife's amazing accomidations in Kedougou. The white packages are filled with nets.

Jesse (left) and Andy arrive in New York City with their luggage and bike boxes.