The Road Not Taken

One of my favorite poems by Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

750

750 cases of measles have been reported in Opuwo district to date.

Seven hundred and fifty. Thats a BIG number.

Looking back two months to the beginning of October, we had 37 cases. At the time we were panicking, wondering how we could contain the outbreak. Our first line of defense was an immunization campaign. Over 800 children were immunized over the course of a week, which we considered a great success. As a second strategy, we set up a treatment center where patients could be kept in relative isolation, which was also a positive move. As a third line of defense, we carried out a mass social mobilization/awareness campaign to help inform the community about measles. And yet the cases continue to rise.

Its disheartening. Despite our efforts on various fronts, this epidemic cannot be quelled. We currently have teams out in the field treating sick villagers and immunizing children, but as one of our physicians pointed out today during our meeting, isolation is key. It is also nearly impossible in this area. People live in very close family compounds, and the highly infectious nature of measles thrives in such conditions.

The key challenges:

1. Measles is a highly contagious disease spread through close contact via mucous droplets.

In my area, most people live a communal lifestyle where many family members are sharing one small hut.

2. Measles is contagious for a relatively long period of time (starting around 4 days before the rash appears, up to 4 days after the rash appears).

3. Most of the Himba and Zemba people (adults and children alike) are not immunized. In some areas of Southern Africa they have carried out mass immunization campaigns, but we were strictly instructed to only carry out target immunization (age 9-59 months). This has left a vast majority of our people unprotected.

4. The Himba move frequently. Despite the fact that people are ill, they continue to travel to other villages and areas. This will be amplified during the holiday season, as many people will be travelling to distant villages to see their relatives, and people working in other areas of Namibia will return to their villages here.

5. Some of our health workers were never immunized against measles. Recently, one of our key health workers who frequently treats patients at the treatment center contracted measles.

6. We have a long-standing shortage of transportation (and resources in general).

So this is where we find ourselves--fighting an uphill battle. The interventions we have in place are quality, and our patients admitted to the hospital are well cared for, but ultimately we are powerless to stop the spread of the disease. We will continue to immunize, we will continue to treat, but ultimately this epidemic has to run its course. Its a hard reality, particularly because in the last week 4 more children have passed away. Three of the deaths came from a village called Okatumba: two children passed away before they reached the hospital and one died in our Casualty ward (ages 8 years, 5 months, and two months respectively). The latest case was an 11 month old baby girl.

If you can, I simply ask that you send positive thoughts our way. I am a firm believer in the power of setting an intention, whether through prayer, meditation, song, or any other way.

Okuhepa tjinene (thank you)...

Metaha.....

Today, while waiting in line at OK Grocery to have my mango weighed, a Himba man pushed up next to me with his cart. His eyes met mine, and his brusque voice was as course as gravel as he greeted me in Otjiherero. It was clear that he did not expect me to respond, but as I returned his greeting his entire demeanor changed. He asked my name. I responded in Otjiherero. Then he smiled as he turned to his friend,"Ingwi omuhinga kohimba, omuhinga kotjirumbu" (roughly translated to "this one is half Himba, half white person"). That made me laugh out loud.

It feels good when people are proud to see their culture reflected in someone traditionally considered an "outsider" (thats me). Back in training, Ashley and I dressed in full Herero dress for the Herero Festival in Okahandja. Our picture made the newspaper, as well as the National Namibian news broadcast. During the ceremony, one of the dignitaries was giving a speech, and suddenly pointed Ashley and I out in the crowd. He used the fact that we had dressed up to encourage people to be proud of their traditions. It seems strange but we somehow imparted an extra measure of worth to their practice simply by showing up and taking part in it. Powerful stuff.

At any rate, I think being Himba would be a lot cooler in the sense that wearing 7 layers of fabric and a big heavy hat in 110 degree heat is pretty rough. I respect and admire the Herero tradition, but I'd gladly take the ocher and skins any day of the week...

Rest in Peace...

I would just like to say a few words about Crazy Bill...

The first time I met Bill was at our neighborhood 4th of July block party. Though many years have passed since, I will never forget him that night. He ran down the street holding fireworks in his up-stretched arms shouting with joy. Most of the onlookers were terrified that he would burn himself (I'm pretty sure that he had no hair on his forearms after that night), but he just kept on running. That's Bill though. If there is an expression that characterizes him, its "balls to the wall." I can't imagine Bill ever doing anything halfway.

He passed away during the annual camping trip which our families have gone on for the last 7 years or so. His bike was in 4th gear, and I wouldn't expect anything less. My heart breaks for his daughter Jillian, who will grow up without her Daddy. I understand the accident occurred just moments after he said goodbye to her.

Bill was always the life of the party. He had an innate ability to get people excited, and he cherished time spent with his family and friends. And he loved hauling ass on his dirt bike.

The only light in this tragedy is that his strong, healthy organs will live on in others who are in need. I hope that the recipients will find the same enthusiasm and lust for life that he shared with so many.

Cheers. You will be missed my friend...

Digging in the dirt

When I first told my mom about my Peace Corps assignment she shared with me an interesting tidbit about the history of Peace Corps. When Peace Corps first began back in the 60's, apparently they ran a series of advertisements showing volunteers "digging in the dirt." There are some people from that generation who still associate Peace Corps service with said activity. Of course Peace Corps has evolved with time and volunteers now serve all over the world in a variety of capacities such as Education, Community Health, Small-Enterprise Development, and Youth Development to name a few. But I think the sentiment is still the same. Peace Corps is very much about working at the grass-roots level of development; volunteers live in their communities, and work one on one with their communities to illicit positive growth.

At any rate, she had a good time teasing me about it.

Recently, The Red Cross community garden benefiting the Orphans and Vulnerable Children of Opuwo had about 50 trees donated. In order to help get them all in the ground, I volunteered to assist in the "soil preparation" which basically involved Ed, Tate Haibundi, and I spending days digging a bunch of huge holes (at least one arm wide by one arm deep), and then mixing countless wheelbarrows full of manure and sand in with the soil. More than once I was struck by the irony of the activity--after all of my lofty explanations about Peace Corps development approaches, here I was in Africa digging in the dirt. Life is funny like that. So it turns out that the stereotype is sometimes right mom. Hope you have a good laugh :)

Little Blaundina had a great time helping out...

After digging the holes, the trees were planted and sticks put in place to protect them from grazing livestock...

Hopefully these little trees will grow big and strong!

Cheers!

Parabuthus capensis

Meet Parabuthus capensis.

I discovered this little fellow in my doorway recently, so I snapped a quick photo. Yesterday, while waiting for a meeting to start, I was browsing through a pocket guide to Spiders and Scorpions of Southern Africa and I came across a picture that looked remarkably similar. I compared the photo in the book to the picture I took, and thus made the identification. Turns out this is one of the most toxic scorpions in Southern Africa, and "is responsible for a handful of deaths annually."

Awesome. Lets hope he doesn't have any more friends nearby!

A picture is worth a thousand words...

Here is a link to the photos from our recent trip North....hope you enjoy!

Okuti onguza...the vast emptiness