100!!!!!!!!

This is our 100^th blog! It is hard to believe that we have been writing on this blog for 23 months and have written 100 entries! To commemorate our adventure thus far we summed up what we were up to each month of blogging and even created a word cloud using one entry from each month. Check it out!

December 2009: Found out our assignment to Guyana, accepted it and said our first good byes to family and friends.

January 2010: Moved out of our apartment in San Diego, said more good byes

February 2010: Finished work at Health Sciences High, left San Diego and arrived in Guyana and started Pre-Service training, met our host family

March 2010: Learned tons in Pre-service training, went to visit older volunteers for a week visit, more learning, got our site placement

April 2010: Swore in as official Peace corps Volunteers, moved to Linden, started work on our projects, Tim turned 29

May 2010: Found Rasta kitty, celebrated with fellow Lindeners at Town Week, explored our region on outreach trips, Sara turned 24, witnessed a baby born at the health center

June 2010: Adventured around Guyana, floundered a bit with our projects, celebrated our one year weddinged anniversary

July 2010: Watched almost every FIFA World Cup soccer match, met back up with our training group for a reconnect training meeting

August 2010: Built our own bookcases and dressers from plyboard, planted papaya trees in our front yard, Chelsea turned 25

September 2010: Struggled with various tropical maladies, enjoyed an amazing vacation in Barbados, met with our counterparts for a project planning conference

October 2010: Midwifed for Rasta when she had her kittens, organized and distributed thousands of unused books for schools throughout the region, finished writing teacher training manual

November 2010: Celebrated Thanksgiving with fellow PCVs and Sara's family, started working as the host for local TV program Health Watch

December 2010: Attempted a trip into the interior to visit friends, got stranded and learned patience and acceptance, had a wonderful Christmas celebration at home in Linden with enchiladas and friends

January 2011: Finished training for the Be Safe program, big project accomplishments, got staph infections, cured said infections

February 2011: New training group arrived in Guyana, facilitated tons of training sessions with the newbies, marched in costume in the G/town Mashramani parade, dressed as our alter egos for a party commemorating our 1 year in Guyana anniversary

March 2011: Continued to help with newbie training, completed the Be Safe! Program and hosted a well-deserved graduation ceremony, planned and executed first annual Linden young authors fair

April 2011: Visited home in the U.S. For a month, kicked it with our families and friends, gorged ourselves on American fare and libations, Tim's dirty 30^th birthday

May 2011: Started running with the Guyana Hash House Harriers, attended mid-service training conference, dealt with broken computer frustrations, cried over a sick baby, then busted butt to get him help and save his little life

June 2011: Worked with remedial teachers in secondary schools, planned/stressed over our future plans, survived without a fridge when it broke for a month, celebrated our 2^nd weddinged anniversary

July 2011: Traveled to Shell Beach and watched leatherback turtles lay eggs, professional development with summer school teachers, started law school applications

August 2011: Kept on keeping on with so so many different projects, Chelsea's 26^th birthday celebrated in Barbados when we made a short stop there in the way back to the States

September 2011: Joyously celebrated D+L's wedding back in Oregon and enjoyed family and friends for 2 weeks, experienced ancient Guyanese culture at the Amerindian Heritage festival, submitted law school applications

October 2011: Submitted grant for an infant nutrition class, hosted excellent activities for Education Month, celebrated Diwali, good things still to come......

Something to laugh about everyday

In every Volunteer's PC experience there are hard times where we think, “What the hell am I dong here, why am I putting up with the stresses of a third world country anyway? And why can't I just go HOME!?!” These moments suck. They appear when we least expect them, sometimes for no reason at all. It has been a while since I have personally had one of these moments but I have no doubt that there are more in store for me in the future. For now I am glad that I can be there for my fellow PCVs, friends and, occasionally, husband when they are going through difficult times themselves.

Recently one of the coping mechanisms I have been thinking a lot about is finding something to laugh about every day. There is a lot to laugh about when you are a Peace Corps Volunteer. There is a TON to laugh about when you are a Peace Corps Volunteer doing work in the health field when you are a Poli Sci major and have no experience or desire to experience the nastier side of healthcare (thats ME!).

Yesterday I laughed when Sara told me the names of two babies at the clinic in her health center: Shaun and Toshaun (yeah, like Shaun number 2). Mom must really like the name Shawn. If she has a girl maybe she can name her Shauntell. LOL!

Today I laughed at the fact that I got a letter from my friend Heather S. I was confused reading it because she was discussing her Thanksgiving. It seemed odd so I checked the postdate; she had mailed my letter from California in DECEMBER 2010! Nine months ago! I could make a baby in 9 months but Guyana can't get me my letter in that amount of time. Annoying, no. Hilarious, YES!

I also laughed at the BCG vaccine clinic today when I got pooped and peed on by two different babies in a row. Gross, yes! Funny, hells yes! I won't go into graphic detail of all the messiness, although I want to. But anyone who knows the color and consistency of newborn (under one month old) baby poop can imagine what my health center looked like when one baby messed in the scale, then peed on the measuring board. Then the next baby pooped on me and the floor when I was lifting him from scale to measuring board. I had to laugh at this situation, otherwise I would have been mad or disgusted. It just made me think maybe we should weigh and measure these babies with their diapers on?

So, here I am blogging and laughing about poop, baby names and third world country postal service. I am presently giggling at the 80's music that is blasting from the shop down the road. I could be annoyed by all of these things. But instead I choose to laugh. I hope my fellow PCVs, in every country around the world, are also choosing to laugh at the strange joys that our Peace Corps life brings.

Laugh it up friends!

Off to Town and MST

So first off, we made it! Yay! We have survived yet another Rapture/Y2K/End-of-the-world craze. I can't tell you how relieved I was when I woke up this morning...riiight. Anywho, since I haven't been swallowed in fire and brimstone (yet, I guess the day isn't over for another 14 hours...) I am moving on with my weekend plans.

Today I am wrapping up some recording for next month's episode of Health Watch. I am really excited because I organized the group of Peer Educators I work with to perform a skit that they had written and rehearsed. The theme is peer pressure and teen pregnancy (which has been on my mind a lot recently). I am really excited to see the end result! After the shoot, Sara and Tim and I are heading to meet up with some other PCVs in Georgetown and celebrate Sara's 25^th birthday at the Princess hotel (the fanciest hotel and Guyana's only casino) for dinner and shenanigans.

Tomorrow we are checking into a hotel with the rest of our Peace Corps buddies for our Mid-Service Training Conference (MST), then hitting the trail with the Guyana Hash House Harriers for a run in G/town. Both activities will be loads of fun. PC conferences are always a mixture of tedious sessions in meeting rooms, interesting discussions with colleagues about our projects, and a ton of fun catching up and touching base with our compatriots. It is weird to think that after MST we will only meet again in one big group at our Close of Service Conference (COS) around December time.

I am looking forward to the week to come. When we get back from MST I am excited to start my own Be Safe! Sessions in a local nursery school and continue with the other projects I have going. In addition, I am going to keep following up with the young mother and her sick baby that I mentionedd a few posts back. (Update: I heard the baby had been discharged from the hospital so I decided to go visit them at home. So, yesterday two nurses from my health centre and I walked around for an hour and a half trying to find this girl's house to check on the baby. When we found them, we learned that the situation was not much improved. The girl is still not breastfeeding her baby and he is as malnourished and weak as ever. Many reasons for this include an unsupportive family, an irresponsible teenage baby-daddy, and a TOTAL lack of education about how to raise a healthy child. The nurses and I spent hours with her, showing her how to change a diaper so baby's persistent rash will heal, how to breastfeed and/or express her milk and feed baby with a cup and spoon. By the end of our visit, after a few ounces of breast milk and a clean diaper, the baby, who was previously almost completely inert, was opening his eyes and making baby sounds as he nursed. Little by little, with a lot of effort and teamwork, we may just be able to give this child another chance at life. I am NOT giving up on this baby).

Okay, thanks for indulging my baby tangent. I've been trying hard to put into words the effect that working with the patient is having on me emotionally, but I can't seem to yet. Right now, I am just taking action to try to get the child better and that is the most helpful thing I can do right now, both for baby and my own psyche. Thankfully, I will get an imposed break from that situation during MST and check in on them again when I get back to Linden next Friday.

I'm sending love to everyone at home and so much gratitude and prayers for all the healthy babies in my family (Eevee, Quinn, Sawyer, Josiah, Lucia) and all the little ones on the way.

What a day can bring

It is funny how life seems to provide you with exactly what you need when you need it.

On Friday I had a terrible day. The maternal/child health clinic was busy and the babies were especially fussy for some reason. I got especially frustrated with some moms whose babies wouldn't settle on the scale and wouldn't help me calm their children as I had to hold them screaming and kicking to get their weight. Then a very young mother (15 years old) came in with a very, very sick baby. The child had a fungal infection covering his entire scalp, thrush on his groin and at 2 months, only weighed 3.3 kg (7.2 lbs, basically in the 0^th percentile for weight). A coworker and I took charge of these children and headed over to the hospital to get some help. The infant was admitted, thank God, because I honestly think that the baby was dying. There were many reasons for why the infant was so malnourished but I don't want to get into that here. But I was just so saddened by the whole experience. To see that sort of suffering so up close and personal shook me to the core.

However, with the support of my loving husband and amazing housemate, Sara, I was able to talk through my emotions and cheer up a little. Especially because they reminded me how much my intervention in this case could literally save a life. Yay.

Then the weekend began and things turned around for me. Three volunteers came into Linden to participate in the Hash. For those of you who don't know, a Hash is a run/game/adventure/treasure hunt/obstacle course type thing. It is hard to explain, but basically you run around following clues left on the ground to find a trail that eventually leads to a BBQ and booze. It is often referred to as a drinking club with a running problem (real healthy, yeah I know). Tim and I had run 2 Hashes in San Diego before and enjoyed them but never got really into it. I was excited to learn there is a club in Guyana. So, Tony, Sara, Amy (a new PCV in Linden) and 3 other PCVs joined in with an eclectic group of expats and Guyanese in this wacky game. We made some great new friends, enjoyed a fun trail and good BBQ and afterwards ended up playing pool into the wee hours of the night. Happy times.

There is another Hash next Sunday in G/town and I am definitely planning on going. If we do 10 Hashes in Guyana we get a Hash name (a honor and something that follows you to any Hash you go to around the world). We will see if we achieve that before we go home.

Today we made eggs and banana pancakes and did our laundry and now we are lounging around reading. It is a good Sunday. Tomorrow I plan on checking in with the baby at the hospital. I am going to follow up with them and hopefully ensure that the child stays as healthy as possible. I am feeling optimistic and happy today. Awaiting whatever tomorrow brings...

Overseas Doctors

Today I walked in to work to find my health center a total madhouse! Not only did we have the usual, approximately fifty mothers with their babies for check ups and vaccines (all of whom I had to personally weigh and measure) but we had a team of doctors from “overseas” (read America) who sent out an open invitation to all of Linden to come to a general outpatient clinic.

Now, there is something about the word “overseas” that makes “sick” people come out of the freaking woodworks. That is why he had over 150 people show up to the advertised clinic!!! 150+!!! So, after we wrapped up the infant/child clinic around noon, I stepped over to see what was going on with the overseas folks. I expected to find fewer people waiting in the waiting area, but NO! There were MORE! I went inside the room they were working in and there were only three nurses doing basic patient intake (name, age, BP, glucose reading, general triage stuff) and there was only ONE doctor. Get that ONE doctor. This ONE man was planing on personally seeing 150 people. In. One. Day. He was on number 18 when I check at noon. The craziest part wasn't how many people he was willing to see. To me, the craziest part is that people were willing to sit there from 8am to 5pm and on (when I finally left clinic and there were still 50+ people) waiting to see him!

Why? Why would people wait such a long time to see a doctor? Were the struck with dire and mysterious illness? No! In fact, we have a Medex at my health centre who can personally see you any day of the week and diagnose and treat most ailments. If she can't treat you, she will send you five minutes down the road to the hospital, where multiple doctors (many of them Cuban trained) will see you within a few hours. Most of the people in the waiting room already had been diagnosed with common problems (diabetes and hypertension) or, when I asked them why they needed to see Doctor, they said for a cold. A COLD! There were seriously people who had been waiting for 8 hours, in a steaming hot waiting area with no food and no water to see an US doctor for a cold.

I wanted to scream at most everyone. This doctor did not have a magic wand. He did not tell most patients anything that the patients (and we, their primary care providers) did not already know. And, for the most part, he did not give out any medicines that we don't prescribe for free in the pharmacy in our clinic. So why? I am still flabbergasted.

Basically I spent the rest of the day triaging the patients (something the nurses, both American and Guyanese) were not doing. I made sure the diabetic patients who I know have serious sugar problems, were given priority, because none of them had brought snacks to the clinic with them and were on the verge of diabetic comas (aaahhhh, are you serious people?!?!?). Also I made sure people who were in physical pain at that moment (girl who had mystery neck pain and was passing out, and a man with stomach pain and typhoid) get in to see the Doc first. What a totally crazy day.

Like I said, I left at 5. The medex, pharmacist and a few other health workers had to stay behind. The Doctor and his medical team said they would work as late as necessary to see everyone. I feel sorry for my coworkers, because they, like me, know that half the people in the waiting room, who were keeping everyone else from going home to their dinners, didn't need the attention of a doctor at all. The medical team felt obligated to help everyone who came to the doctor because in American people usually just seek the services of a doctor when they know that something is really wrong with them. The same is true in Guyana; people only go see a doctor if they really, really need medical attention. You would never see a Guyanese person waiting 8 hours in the Linden hospital for 8 hours unless there was a dire emergency. Unless, of course, it is an “overseas” doctor.

Yay! Not the Babies Anymore!

Yesterday the new group of Peace Corps Volunteers arrived in Guyana. Welcome Guy 23! Now we, in Guy 22, are no longer the babies (I jump because I am not the baby anymore!)! Tim, Sara and I, along with a few other Guy 22ers met the new group at the airport with excitement. It brought back memories of our arrival, or rather, brought me back to that fuzzy place in my mind where my memory should have been, but I was too exhausted/excited/overwhelmed/hot/etc. to really take in what was happening to me at the time. It was great sitting on the bus with the new group and seeing Guyana through their new eyes. Often Trainees would lean over to me and ask questions, which I was happy to be able to answer. But mostly I tried not to narrate Guyana too much. I feel like we all have to experience Guyana on our own to really know it, so instead I just sat back and enjoyed watching the faces of my new colleagues taking in the awesome sights and first impressions of Guyana. Anyway, I didn't get much time to hang out with the newbies since they were whisked away into training sessions almost immediately.

I am looking forward to getting to know the Trainees better when I spend all next week at the training site to help facilitate sessions. This year, PC Guyana split the Trainees into 2 groups to be trained in a remote site and an urban site, in the hopes that those who eventually go remote will be better prepared for their experience. And, although I live in the second largest town in the entire country, I will be spending most of my time helping teach the Trainees in the remote site. Go figure. I guess PC thought because I have ventured into the interior a few times for outreaches I can speak better to the issues than my other colleagues can? Who knows. I will do my best and hopefully focus on technical training info. Ha! This city gyal is just as excited to be spending some time in the bush as the Remoties are.

We spent the rest of yesterday cleaning the PC Lounge (our haven when we are in G/Town) to make the newbies feel welcome, eating pizza and celebrating our fellow Volunteer's second Guyana birthday with chocolate ice cream, brownies and pretzel M&Ms!

Today is a national holiday in Guyana, Youman Nabi, a Muslim holiday celebrating the birth of the prophet Mohammed, so we got the day off work to lounge around the PC office, order chicken burgers and take our leisurely time traveling home to Linden.

Tim and I are now snug back at our site. As I am blogging and uploading photos Tim is experimenting making pepper sauce for the first time. Pepper is a super spicy Guyanese hot sauce that we love to add to most food. Since we had a ton of hot peppers growing in our garden faster than we could use them, Tim decided to try his hand at home-made pepper. Check out the results of this experiment on Hobbit Food in the near future.

Tomorrow I am recording my third episode of the Health Watch TV show and Friday Sara and I will be conducting small group check ins with our Be Safe! Facilitators for the first time since we did the initial training 3 weeks ago.

Life continues to be full of surprises and excitement. For example, when we came home today we found Simeon (the daddy long leg spider who lives in our bathroom) had caught and eaten a GIANT bug and had it all wrapped up like a burrito. We went to a super fun one year in Guyana party last weekend at another PCV's house. It was a costume party with an alter-ego theme and that was a blast. Emily and Heather sent me jeggings (jean leggings) and I bought a matching top to wear and actually wore them out in public, which made me laugh so much since it is a fashion I abhor, but is very stylish in Guyana (so I felt very integrated...). Rasta kitty seems less freaked out about being baby-less and even snuggled up to sleep on my legs the other night which she hasn't done since she had kittens (but sort of freaked me out since I woke up thinking I had no feet...). Tim and I made falafels from scratch, affirming the versatility and our love of chickpeas. And my best friend, Emily went to visit my mom on Valentine's day to give her flowers and a card “from me and Tim” which just proves once again that she is the most awesome, thoughtful, amazing woman and I am so lucky to have her as a friend! Emily, I love you more than chickpeas!

On a whole, all the activity, both work and fun, is making January and February fly by! We are very very very excited about or visit home coming up in a month and a half! We miss everyone back home very much but we are well aware of all your love and continued support! 

Guy 23 Arrives!

Sara, Becky, Abby and I waiting to welcome the new group

Sara and I have Super Heroes as alter egos, Tim is a 70s Creeper

Super Heroes, a tacky Exerciser, and a Bible Camp Counselor at Armageddon?

Rasta in our yard

Yum! Falafels!

The brownie-cake we made for Meg's Bday

Meg Wag, blowing out the candle (okay it was just a match, but that was all we had...)

Oh what a week!

What a roller coaster of ups and downs. Mostly hilarious things this week, smattered with a few stressful moments and challenges to my patience, tolerance and stick-to-it-iveness. As they say in Guyana, 'here wha' happen':

Monday was my regular day off, since I work most Saturdays. Tim and I had been in G/town all weekend, me for a Peer Support Network Meeting and Tim to help plan the session plans for the next group of Guyana volunteers that arrive in country on February 15^th. We had had a wonderful weekend, working hard at PCHQ then spoiling ourselves with yummy food (pizza, burgers, bagels and cream cheese) and loving the hot showers at the hotel. Good times. So, on Monday we hopped on a minibus back to Linden, swept the gathered dust out of our house and settled back in.

Tuesday is the Infant Child clinic at my Health Center, which is one of our busiest clinic days. We usually see between 30 and 55 mothers with their babies every Tuesday. So I help out on those days, weighing and measuring babies and then sitting down with patients, charting their child's growth, talking about their eating habits and advising on healthy diets, looking at strange tropical rashes and boils, explaining what vaccines that are due for and why, and more often than not, getting pooped/peed/vomited on. Sounds gross, but I actually love my Tuesdays. By now, I know most of the patients, and love getting to see their children grow and learn.

After clinic, I stopped by a local NGO geared towards youth empowerment, that I sometimes collaborate with one activities. Vernon, the leader of the group works with a high school health club once a week, just like I do and I have been planning to get our clubs together for some healthy competition and socialization. So we planned that out a bit and he hooked me up with a whole bag off goodies (pens, key chains, stickers, flyers etc. from the Ministry of Health that I can give as prizes to my students). I was stoked to present the bag of swag to my counterpart back at the health centre.

Wednesday I planned to stop by all the schools that are participating in the Be Safe! Program and remind the teachers that out training was on Thursday and Friday this week. However, in the morning Travis, our mailman, came by with a package slip telling me to pick up a package at the post office. Happy day! I visited a few schools on my way there and got to the post office at 10:30, the appointed time that the customs agent is supposed to be there. She never showed up! I sat on the hard wooden bench, in the post office without A/C for an hour until the postal workers told me she wasn’t going to be there today. Argh. This was one of my down moments of the week. I just get so frustrated when I see the inefficiencies of bureaucracy. I mean, people are getting paid to do a certain job, and customers are counting on it, but no one shows up. That kind of work ethic would not fly in the US. So, I resigned myself to waiting until Friday to get the package and headed off to the health centre.

At the health center, I waited for my friend, a young lady who I met through my counterpart, who has very few mentors (her mom has been working in Trinidad for the last 7 years, her auntie just moved to the States, so she and her 4 brother and sisters live with their grandmother). I could tell when I met her that she needed a friend, so I invited her to come by my work every Wednesday after school just to hang out. Well, this Wednesday she never showed up (I later called and found out that she didn't have enough money to pay for her bus ride to school, so she didn't go to school that day). So, while I was waiting for my friend, I was reading at my desk in the youth friendly building and I kept getting disturbed by the children of my coworkers who were hanging out after school, waiting for their moms to get off work. These kids range from ages 4-9, not my favorite age range. They are at the stage where they will tear up paper for no reason and throw it all around my building. Which is exactly what they were doing on this particular day, and it was driving me crazy!!! No one was supervising these kids and they were running amok, so instead of getting mad, I had a stroke of genius and decided to get creative.

I told the kids we were going to play a game and everyone who played got a prize. I got a trash bag, had them all put on gloves and very enthusiastically said, “Now, let's see how much trash we can collect from around the health centre grounds in ten minutes! Go!”. And I swear to you, these kids went after the trash like it was an easter egg hunt. Within ten minutes, I had a 10 gallon hefty bag full of empty soda bottles, candy wrappers, gauze, chip bags and other trash that you wouldn't think would be cluttering up the surroundings of a health centre, but they were. I just kept laughing to myself that my ploy actually worked. These kids were enjoying themselves, doing something productive and learning about keeping their space clean. Afterwards, I gave them all pens (from the swag that Vernon had given me) and they were happy little clams. The nurses even came over to my desk asking if they could get pens. I cracked up saying that they would have had to pick up trash too, and they said if I had invited them, they would have. I couldn't stop smiling. I always look around the health centre thinking how disgustingly dirty it can get at times, and I just didn't think that organizing a clean up would be so easy. As I went home for the day, I couldn't help smiling at the thought of the easter egg hunt for trash.

Now Thursday and Friday we had the training for the Be Safe! Program that Sara and I organized. I was really anxious coming into it, because I wasn't in charge of any of the logistics. I had just put all the plans together, but I tried to leave most of the responsibility in the hands of my community (which, since I am a control freak, was hard for me to do without getting very anxious). But in the end, everyone took their tasks seriously and things went off without a hitch; the participants showed up, the facilitators from the Guyana Red Cross brought all the materials, the regional health office arranged for snacks, lunch and drinks to be delivered each day and I really didn't have to do much, but sit back and watch the participants learning. It was awesome.

The toughest part of the training for me was when the topic of corporeal punishment arose. I have a very strong belief that physical violence should never be used to punish children. I do not believe that even spanking is an effective method of discipline. I think it teaches children fear, not right from wrong. Sure, it stops the behavior in the short term, but the long term effects of raising a hand to a child are devastating their development, especially self-esteem. Most Guyanese I have met however, believe the opposite, that beating is an effective method of discipline. After having this conversation with many, many people in a variety of settings in Guyana, I have heard every excuse for corporeal punishment in the book: I was beaten and I turned out okay. But it works, look at how obedient my daughter is. It is okay as long as you don't hit them too hard. It is okay as long as you explain to the child why they earned a lashing. And my favorite, it says 'spare the rod and spoil the child' in the Bible, so it can't be wrong.

Now, I have gotten pretty good at arguing against all these excuses, even the Bible one, saying that the “rod” in the Bible is actually a metaphor for the Word of God. Meaning basically, if you don't raise a child in the teachings of Christ than you will spoil the child. And that if you really want to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, ask yourself if he would ever have raised a hand to a child to teach them (pretty good argument, right?). The best conversations are had one-on-one. But when I am in a group setting, it is hard to get these ideas across. I get the feeling that people tune me out a lot of the time. I can almost hear them thinking, 'What does this white girl know about anything'. Usually, I just imagine this, but at the training, one of the participants actually called me out, saying, “You don't know what you are talking about. You are not from here.” That really hurt. I just wanted to shout that we have children where I come from too, and they misbehave in the States, but parenting is universal, as are the rights of a child! It is disheartening and frustrating to be written off like that. I guess I just have to focus on the individual conversations that I have had in which I have changed people's minds, using logic from the every book that they quoted to me. I just have to stay strong in moments like that and remember that I can't change everyone, it will be okay if I can influence just one.

But it wasn't all frustrations. In fact, over all the training was pretty amazing! Here are some of my favorite moments from the training that made me laugh so hard I cried:

• When doing a scavenger hunt in the boxes of Be Safe! Materials the participants were instructed to jump up and shout, “Whoops, I got it!” every time they found an item on the list. Listening to a room of grown adults jump up and shout, “Whoops!” as a cry of victory was pretty amusing! I got Sara to do it too!
• During role plays the teachers and nurses had to act out how they would teach the different lessons to classes of nursery school kids. The rest of the participants got to pretend to be the children ages 5-9. The topics (Every one has a body, Your body is private, Touching can be Safe and Unsafe, You can Say NO! Etc) always ended up leading to the “children” shouting out vagina and penis while the teacher tired to teach about body awareness....hmmm...not sure if that was the point. But kids do say the darnedest things...
• My all time favorite role play of the two days: The topic of the lesson was, “You can tell someone you trust and keep telling until you get help.” The nurse presenting had a card with pictures of many stereotypically trustworthy figures (nurses, doctors, social workers, policemen, a priest, pandit and imam). She was asking the “children” (these children are all grown adults pretending to be kids, mind you) to identify the pictures.“Yes that is a policeman, and you can trust the policeman and tell him if anyone touches you unsafely. Yes, that is a nurse, and you and trust a nurse and tell her if anyone touches you unsafely.”You get the idea. Then she pointed at the imam.“And who is this?” she asked.“A Muslim,” one of the “children” shouted! And the nurse just rolled with it,“ Yes, that is a Muslim, you can trust Muslims and run and tell them if anyone touches you unsafely”.Honestly! I tried to contain myself, but then the rest of the group started laughing and I couldn't hold it in any longer. I don't think I have laughed so hard in a long time. I kept glancing over at the facilitator, who was laughing too, and each time we made eye contact we started laughing even more. Oh my goodness! I don't think I will forget that skit ever. And if ever I need someone to trust, I know now, I can always go find a Muslim!

Overall, the training was great. It was a crash course in how to facilitate the Be Safe! Program and I am so excited to work with these teachers and nurses on a more individual basis as they start to take the tools into their classrooms and educate our youth. I had a very rewarding week all in all. I get frustrated and disheartened sometimes but have to remember that by keeping a positive attitude and an open mind I will be open to the unpredictable miracles that seem to pop into my life when I lest expect them. 

Nurses doing a skit

Role play

Our facilitator and Trusty

Be Safe! kit scavenger hunt

Whoops I got it!

Sara and Trusty

Getting familiar with the cards

Chelsea and Trusty share a knowing look at home after the training

Life here is raw and rugged

         Tim and I are almost four months into our service as Peace Corps Volunteers in Guyana. As we expected, we have been through some ups and downs along our service. We are so grateful to have been placed in Linden, our busy town with a fierce pride in its culture and history. Daily, we take joy in the company of our housemates and our little kitten Rasta, who is snuggled up on my lap as I write this post. We are slowly but surely finding how we can fit in at our work places and see much potential for development projects. However, we think of our friends and family at home every day with a twinge of sadness. We get especially nostalgic for the life we left in California when we hear news of both the monumental and inconsequential moments that our loved ones at home are experiencing without us. How we wished we could have been at Heather and Jeff’s wedding, for example (although they knew we were there in spirit). And when I hear about Stephan’s choir and improv performances, I especially miss being with my little brother as he continues to grow into an amazingly talented and handsome young man. On some days we think about all the things that await us back home; friends, family, law school and job prospects and wonder why we continue down this road in the Peace Corps. 

But on other days, we experience the most amazing things and realize that this is the only time in our life when we will have the chance to experience life in such a raw, rugged sense. Life in the U.S. is so orderly and regulated compared to life in a developing country. It is a comfort to know that our secure life is waiting back home for us but we needn’t be in a hurry to rush back to it when every day we get to take part in some miraculous moments in here Guyana. To give you a picture, let me share two of the most raw and rugged experiences that I have had in the last month or so: 

“No, Mom, I do not want to be a nurse,” I remember telling my mother when I was applying to Political Science programs for my undergrad study. “I respect you a lot for being in the health profession,” I said, “but blood and bodily fluids are really not my thing.” Well, it’s funny the way things work out. Here I am, with my Poli Sci degree, working in a health center. This does not mean that I am working as a nurse, but since I’ve been here I have witnessed an amazing birth and assisted with horrifying dental procedures. How my UCSD education qualified me for this is still a mystery to me. 

The Birth:

A young woman comes into the health center for a malaria test since she is not feeling well. She is obviously very pregnant, 8 months, she thinks. She mentions to me, and a Senior Nurse, that her stomach is paining her and she just passed blood when she urinated. The Senior Nurse sees this as a situation better handled at the nearby hospital and calls an ambulance and, in the meantime, gives her a quick examination to see if everything is alright. To our surprise, she is almost fully dilated. She won’t make it to the hospital. The baby is going to be born in our Health Center.

I watch as nurses hurry to get sterile equipment into our clinic room. They place a clean sheet on the examination table, help the mother up onto it, and place a steel basin between her legs. The nurses instruct the woman’s own mother to run across the street to purchase sanitary pads and 2 clean pairs of underwear as an emergency form of bandaging up the pregnant woman after delivery. She seems undaunted by the fact that she now has an audience; at least 4 nurses, two nurses in training, a dentist who is very pregnant and expecting her own first baby soon, and myself, the mysterious white girl. It all seems very surreal as the senior nurse tells the woman when to breathe and push, while the mother during this entire process makes little noise other than a grunt, maybe two. Within 7 minutes, with a loud sloshing sound and a rush of blood and fluid, a healthy baby girl slips into this world. I stand, awestruck.

Visits to the Dentist:

The dentist, Medex, HIV counselor/tester, Sara and I ride down the Demerara River in a speedboat to a small village about two hours away. As the boat passes houses and shacks nestled in the jungle we wave to people to let them know that the medical professionals are on their way to the Health Post. People who need medical attention clamber into canoes and paddle up the river to meet us. 

We set up in a Health Post with no running water or electricity. Sara is asked to record names and information for Medex and I do the same for the dentist. As people come into the small room where we have set up a folding chair, a basin of liquid disinfectant, syringes full of Lydocaine and a terrifying array of plier-type tools, I take down their names and ages. Our patients range in age from 7 to 70. The dentist asks them which tooth is hurting them and calls out the tooth number to me, “Chelsea, number 42. Chelsea, number 21.” As I write down these numbers, the dentist, without further explanation, sticks the patient with Lydocaine and sends them outside to wait for the anesthetic to take effect. 15 minutes later, the dentist calls his patient back in to yank the rotten teeth out with what look to me like pliers. With very little friendly bedside manner, the patients are given gauze and told to rinse with warm salt water the next day and sent on their way. 

In one instance, I am particularly surprised when the dentist calls out 5 different, consecutive tooth numbers to me, while looking into the mouth of a man in his forty-somethings. I know enough by now to realize that this man is about to have five of his upper front teeth extracted. When the dentist is doing his extractions I usually try not to look, unless the patient is a small child and is squirming, in which case I stand up and hold down the child’s flailing limbs, trying to be as soothing as I can while they suffer though the procedure. However, one point during the extraction with the 5-tooth-extraction-man, the dentist calls upon me to assist. “Chelsea,” he says, “can you glove up and hand me some gauze. I am having some trouble with this one.” What else can I do but what he says and shortly I find myself staring into a mouth full of bloody, gaping holes and into eyes full of excruciating pain. I proceed to hand the dentists tools, whose names I don’t know, and gauze to stop the bleeding, all the while thinking, WHAT AM I DONG HERE????

The dentist

But after I am able to wash my hands, and clear the images of blood and bodily fluids from my thoughts, I feel a sense of wonder that I know is rare and raw. I never would have crossed paths with these sorts of things in my ordinary life. These are the experiences that Peace Corps promised and I know will stick with me for the rest of my life. So, although daily I ask myself, “How did I get here and what the heck am I doing?” at the end of the day I am full of gratitude for the experiences I chance upon in this crazy Peace Corps adventure.