Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Walking Through Asseque

You just want to buy some onions and it turns into a whole adventure. People yelling “amiga” or even “chinesa” or “branca”, wanting us to wave hi, acknowledge them. Foreigners walking through the barrio. Sometimes a wave or a good morning is enough, sometimes not, and they keep yelling or start to follow us on our journey through the dusty neighborhood. People yelling “give me money”. “Give me your shirt”. “Help us”. “I’m hungry”. And you have to just walk on. And stop complaining about your own life. About how you don’t have well water these days or electricity or that you’re tired of eating funge and beans everyday. About how hot it is, about the cockroach that you just discovered in your bathroom, or the rat crawling around your room. Because a few yards away there is a swollen belly of a malnourished child, a roofless home approaching the rainy season, infections, disease, desperation.

Malaria (Paludismo)

One of the first things we noticed here was that when you ask someone “how are you?” the response is frequently “mais o menos” (more or less) or “via indo” (it’s going). It kind of bothered us in the beginning because people who looked totally fine would give us similar responses. Why didn’t they say they were good or doing well? Well…two months into living in Angola and I have now joined them in their less than ecstatic responses to “how are you?”

We all knew about the risk of malaria before coming here, but I didn’t think it would be this difficult to get rid of it. This area in particular has a high prevalence of malaria and it seems as though everyone is in a constant state of the disease. Our students are always sick. Teachers are always sick. Everyone is always sick. Death is all around. When you ask Angolans about malaria they laugh and say “e a nossa doenca” “it’s our disease.” It’s just a way of life, a common cold for them, only much more dangerous.

It’s just the reality. It’s one thing to talk about disease in Africa, talk about the need for vaccines and medicine and education, it’s another to experience it. I thought that if I do what I’m supposed to I would be safe. I’m healthy. I take my vitamins. I drink my bottled water. I peel my fruits and vegetables. I use bleach. I wash my hands. I sleep safely under my mosquito net. I go to the clinic when I don’t feel good. I get my malaria medicine and take it until it’s done. Malaria is vicious. One day you feel great, the next day it’s a headache. Then you feel awesome, then it’s extreme tiredness. Malaria is building up resistance to the anti-biotic treatments, not to mention that different areas have different kinds of malaria. If malaria existed in the “first world” there would already be a vaccine for it. Guaranteed.

It is just so hard to get things done, get the motivation, get people motivated when sickness takes over. Everyone loves to talk about development in Africa, but doing something, actually physically doing something about it, can be so damn hard.