Wednesday, July 16, 2014

We and Love and Food


Post by Lara

8 July 2014

Before Peace Corps, Kevin and I were interested in nutrition inasmuch as we liked good food and tried to incorporate as much variety into our diet as we could.  We planted herbs in our flower bed, joined a CSA, and cooked our own dinner from scratch most nights.  When we came across a fruit or vegetable we didn’t recognize, we would often buy it and figure out how to cook it.  I had a rough idea of which nutrients could be acquired from which kinds of foods, and we did what we could to get all of those, without spending too much mental energy on keeping track.  For what’s it’s worth, though, we did not follow any kind of strict diet—we had a kitchen pantry that was permanently stocked with Oreos, a fridge with a special place set aside for heavy cream, which we cooked with regularly, and we routinely ordered pizza when we didn’t want to cook—all of which I add here to reassure you that although healthy eating was high on our priority list, “junk food” was not absent from our lives, and we definitely weren’t purists of any breed.

 I don’t think that I would have told you then that nutrition was one of my main interests, in part because keeping nourished in the US is not difficult to do, and most Americans do it without making a conscious effort.  It was out on the periphery of my interests.  It wasn’t until I moved to Sierra Leone, experienced an almost total changeover from my old diet to the one I observe now, and saw how important nutrition is when you exit the first world, that I began to see this as a crucial part of my service and my post-Peace Corps life. 

For westerners living in Sierra Leone, staying nourished often means learning not to be picky—a luxury that we seem to have acquired at some point in the last few centuries.  Not liking fish, or too much oil, or onions, are totally normal things in the states, but here, you often have to set that aside and eat what’s sitting in front of you.  Many of the common dishes here are chock-full of vitamins, monounsaturated fats, lean proteins, and fiber—which are wonderful for your health.  Unfortunately, we who are not used to eating dishes swimming in oil and who have been almost conditioned to believe that carb-heavy diets are inherently unhealthy often find ourselves battling those western beliefs as we try to decide what and how much to eat here. 

Sierra Leoneans also have their ideas of what a healthy diet consists of—they know that babies should be fed exclusively breast milk until 6 months, that fish, beans, and other proteins are essential to a complete diet, and that “empty” (or plain) rice has almost no nutritional value.  There are also some interesting myths floating around here.  Almost everyone I know is afraid to eat very fibrous parts of fruits and vegetables—the little spines in pineapples, the skins of peanuts, and eggplant seeds are all taken out of foods before consumed.  This would make more sense to me if it weren’t for the fact that these same people happily gnaw the ends off their chicken bones and have no qualms whatsoever about swallowing about a million fish bones a day as they eat their rice and sauce. 

In our time here, we have attempted to make nutrition a bit easier for volunteers by editing our post’s cook book and supplying information for trainings to help those with a Western view of food to thrive in this much different environment.  We also learned how to cook local dishes in variations that are more palatable for Americans—peanut sauce without fish, potato leaf sauce with a healthy smattering of big broad beans and a handful of garlic cloves, and less oil on the whole.  Ours being an early generation post, we have a rare opportunity to help impact the way our post treats things like nutrition and staying healthy in remote locations—we have jumped at the opportunity and attempted to bring more information that is relevant to our specific country and even depicts seasonal variations in what’s available. We leave plenty of work to be done yet, but we’ve at least helped spread information that can keep Americans healthy living here in Sierra Leone.

Ultimately, no matter where you’re eating, challenges arise that can un-balance a person’s diet. In the Western world, often the main challenge is fulfilling your requirements without exceeding them—a task that daunts a larger number of people now than it ever has before.  In the developing world, eating right is mostly about getting enough of those nutrients that can be tough to come by—protein, vitamins, iron, calcium—and doing so before you fill up on carbs (in Sierra Leone, that’s usually rice).

After we complete our Peace Corps service, I’m planning to pursue a career in health care (likely nursing, though time will tell).  I know that the extreme awareness of what nutrients are in my diet, what’s missing, and how much I need to consume will fade when I’m back in an environment where I can get everything I need without trying, but I hope that the lessons learned here will stay with me, and I hope that the efforts I made here have a positive effect on the health of both volunteers and locals in Sierra Leone in the future.

Friday, June 20, 2014

Thinking about 'Merica

Post by Lara

20 June 2014

This is one of those on-the-fly posts that come once in a blue moon when the internet's working and I have a minute to spare.  We're leaving the country in about 40 days.  Here's what's on my mind today:

  • Soon enough, I'll be somewhere where you can swallow the water in the shower. Turns out, the vast majority of the world is not that way.
  • All those little things that make me me are about to change-- different keys, wallet, ID, clothes, shoes...even medicine.  Coming here (and leaving again) really is like becoming a different person.
  • I keep wondering which, if any, of my clothes here will be able to make the fashion leap into the US.  We'll see...
  • I. Cant. Wait. To. Feel. Cold.

Friday, June 13, 2014

Our Site by the Numbers





Post by Lara

9 June 2014

Our little town in Mende land, Sierra Leone has a lot to offer—at least by local standards.  For security purposes we’re not permitted to name our town on our blog, but we can tell you a little bit about it with the following rundown, which should be at least mostly accurate as of June 2014:

Overview:
7,000-10,000: Our town’s population.  The number varies a whole lot, partially due to poor information and partially because different estimates include more or less of the surrounding neighborhoods around the town.  What we do know is that this is the largest town in our district.
2: American citizens (except when Dennis Glover of www.realafrica.blogspot.com is around)
2:  Chiefs living in the town. The town chief (a woman) and the paramount chief (a man) both live here.
4: Languages frequently spoken (Mende, Krio, English, and Temne—though there’s a smattering of Fullah too)
2: Basic religious distinctions (Christian and Muslim)
17:  Churches
5:  Public Mosques (private ones in homes don’t count)
1: Police Station
1: Prison
0: Post offices
1: Community bank
0: Community Libraries
6: NGOs with offices in town
4: Organizations that run solar power
0: Functioning internet cafes
1: Radio station that broadcasts 8 hours per day
3: Cell phone towers

Schools:
4:  Secondary (junior high/high) schools
7:  Primary schools
5: Nursery schools
1200: Students enrolled at Lara’s school
210: Students that Lara teaches (4 different classes)
800: Students enrolled at Kevin’s school (+/- 100— it is difficult to get a straight answer)
110: Students that Kevin teaches (3 different classes)

Health:
1: Hospital
1: Clinic
1: Nursing School
0: Doctors that live in our town year-round
1: Community Health Officer (in charge of the hospital)
5: Pharmacies that sell everything from soap to amoxicillin to glucose injections to codeine (no prescription required! See # of doctors)
2: Traveling veterinarians that service our whole district.

Market, etc:
6:  “Bars” (places you can buy beer and soda—not necessarily cold)
0: Supermarkets
2:  Places you can buy a hot meal between 12 PM and 4 PM any day but Sunday
0:  Places you can buy a hot meal before 12PM, after 4 PM, or on a Sunday
3: Hardware stores
4: Shops that sell bulk dry goods every day (i.e. rice, flour, margarine, dried beans, lentils, etc)
2: Stores that sell toilet paper (as long as it’s in stock)
1: Vendor that sells towels and bed sheets

Transportation:
0: Paved roads
1: Ferry crossing
1: Boat that runs daily down to the nearest port town
1: Vehicle leaving for Freetown every morning around 7 AM
30: Capacity of the average Freetown vehicle
1: Vehicle leaving for Bo every morning around 7 AM
25: Capacity of the average Bo vehicle
2: Places to buy gasoline by the gallon
1: Place to buy diesel by the gallon
16: Miles to the nearest commercial bank (which is insured)
52: Miles to Bo (the nearest supermarket, reliable internet café, branch of our cell phone company, and Peace Corps medicine and mail drop)
180: Miles to Freetown and the Peace Corps compound

At Home:
35: Pineapples planted by us since we came
19: Papaya trees lovingly nursed and planted by us
19: Papaya trees eaten by grasshoppers in one fateful weekend
3: Mango trees
1: Avocado tree
1: Cacao (chocolate!) tree
1: Coconut tree
1: Bitter orange tree
2: Chickens living it up in the oh-so-posh Flaute hen house
5: Dogs (that we say belong to the neighbors…but may as well be ours)
2: Adult cats
9: Kittens born and raised by our mama cat, Nimbus (we only kept one)

Friday, June 6, 2014

Mende Numbers



Post by Lara

22 May 2014

It’s been a long time since I wrote a post on either of the new languages we’re learning here, and as a dedicated student of languages, I’m a bit embarrassed by that. Furthermore, talking about Mende and numbers is a math-and-foreign-language junkie’s dream.  So, without further ado, here’s a mini lesson on the Mende number system and its fun idiosyncrasies.

Unlike the base-10 system of numbers we’re used to, Mende has a mixed-base numerical system.  Groupings of 20 are used in addition to numbers 1-19 which are in base-10.  Apparently, a number system in base 20 is called vigesimal (Thanks Sean Stephens for that!)—but I don’t think that’s exactly the term for Mende’s number system, because of this mixture of bases.  Below is an example of how numbers get grouped in Mende:



 

11 = puu mahu yila = ten plus one
35 = nuu gboyongo mahu puu mahu loolu = twenty plus ten plus five
58 = nuu fele gboyongo mahu puu mahu wayakpa = two twenties plus ten plus eight
99 = nuu naani gboyongo mahu puu mahu taalu = four twenties plus ten plus nine




The result of these mixed bases is that numbers get really long-winded.  To say “99” requires us to enunciate 13 syllables!  It’s no wonder Jay-Z’s song “99 problems” never took off here.  This excess of syllables also gives us some insight into why we hear fairly often that someone’s aunty or grandpa or village chief is 100 years old, in a country where life expectancy, by some measures, is lower than 50.  To say “50” takes 9 syllables.  “75” takes 13 syllables.  “80” takes 6 syllables.  But the number “100” in Mende is hondred—2 syllables long, and perfectly suited for expressing the thought that a person is, well, old enough that we’re satisfied to round up. 

In addition to the 20/10 mixed bases, Mende also has some weird cultural standards for talking about numbers relating to money.  Apparently, when hyperinflation hit the country in the 1980s, at one point or another the exchange rate for Leones was 1 pound to 2 Leones (now, it’s closer to 1 pound to 6000 Leones).  During that time, Mendes decided that if you give a price in Mende, the number you say in Mende should be multiplied by two, and that makes the number of Leones you pay. As in, if I order “two thousand Leones” of bread using Mende numbers, I actually want four thousand Leones worth of bread.  If I use English numbers, then I get the 2 thousand I asked for.  This was a very odd rule to learn, and before I managed to figure it out I ordered double of a lot of things thinking I was being clever by asking in Mende. 


Le 5000 = tawji fele pondo loolu = (2000x2) + (200x5)
Le 67000 = tawji nuu gboyongo mahu puu mahu sawa pondo loolu = (33000x2) + (200x5)


 
The currency rule is more complicated by the fact that when multiplying by two, you’ll always get an even number.  What happens, then, when the price is an odd number?  You have to add 1 of course, but you can’t say “1” because that means “2”. Instead, you say “pondo loolu” which translates to, “five sets of 200 Leones” (5x200 = 1000, so fair enough, but of course this number doesn’t get multiplied by 2. Why would it?).  Thus, trying to order an odd number of thousands of Leones can get interesting:

The amazing part of all this is that Mendes are generally very good at doing this kind of math—as long as you’re talking about Leones.  As soon as I take the currency out of it and ask them to multiply one quantity in parentheses by another, my students clam up—but ask them how much you owe them when they sell 4 pineapples to you at Le 2000 each and then add 15 limes for Le 100 each, they’ll take a minute and announce to you, “9,500” (or, more directly translated, “two times 4 thousand plus 5 times 200 plus 500”).  The math teacher who successfully convinces these guys that “market maths” and school maths are one and the same will be my hero.

For those of you who like to know how to count to 10 in as many languages as possible (ahem, Pat & Diane), here’s how you do it in Mende. Happy studying!

1 = yila (or ita)
2 = fele
3 = sawa
4 = naani
5 = loolu
6 = weita
7 = wofla
8 = wayakpa
9 = taalu
10 = puu