1/31/12
Back from bike tour as of this morning. We all took a taxi from Kouandé to
Pehunco, then people split off to go back to their posts. Since there were 13 of us, we rented
out the whole car and squished in for the hour long ride with 13 bikes strapped
onto the roof of the car. I was
home by 10 or so, swept my very dusty house, pet Roe (my kitten) who looks like
she survived 4 days living outside pretty well, made lunch, and then took an
extended, multi-hour nap. Four
days of biking 30-40 k, doing sensibilisations (trainings), dealing with hoards
of swarming kids, and sleeping outside on concrete caught up to me. It was a great bike tour though - fun,
challenging, effective, and meaningful.
The group of volunteers was great and everyone was positive, flexible,
and enthusiastic the whole time.
We had two Beninese high school boys with us to translate and they
really made the tour. One of them
started every sensibilisation with a song about eating well (the theme of the
tour) and they were both animated and eager to help.
Here is the basic plan of each sensibilisation. We arrive in the village and stop in
the market area, generally in the center of town and a place where people
gather to eat, buy, and sell things.
Generally we had a pretty good crowd together by the time everyone got
to the village (we didn’t enforce a same pace policy, so it was go as fast as
you like) by the sheer power of our white-ness. We’d hang up our banner which said ‘Roulons pour la bonne
santé et le Moringa, Corps de la Paix’ (we ride for good health and moringa,
Peace Corps) and find a good place to do the session. Like I said, one of the translators, Jacob, would start a
song and get the crowd to join in. Then we’d start things off with a skit. First, we had the healthy family. I was the mom and another volunteer was
the dad, and we pulled kids from the crowd to act as our children. One of the translators would walk up
and ask how the family was, and I’d respond oh we’re all in very good health, everyone
is happy and has a lot of energy, the kids are all in school and papa works
hard in the fields all day. The
translator would then ask what we ate.
The volunteer playing the dad would say we ate bouillie with peanuts
this morning, pate with soy cheese, and then igname pilée with meat for dinner. Then we had the sick family, again with
volunteers as the mom and dad and kids from the crowd (there were always
plenty) as the children. The mom
and dad were coughing and bent over or sitting on the ground, and when the
translator asked how they were doing they replied that the whole family is sick
and doesn’t have energy, and that the kids can’t go to school and papa can’t
work because they don’t have any energy.
When asked what they ate the mom said pate (corn flour cooked in water,
a staple here) morning, noon, and night.
Then I’d get up in front of the group and ask which family is in good
health and why, looking for the answer that the first family is because they
ate a balanced and varied diet. We
got a correct answer in every village.
Next we’d go through the three major food groups as they are here –
energy foods (carbs), constructor foods (proteins), and protector foods (fruits
and vegetables). Following that we
would introduce the moringa tree, which someone could identify in every village,
though generally by its Bariba name, lagalagagandi (and yes it is fun to
say). We explained that the leaves
are protein and vitamin rich and that they can be used fresh or powdered and
then added to sauce or bouillie.
Because some people have the habit of boiling the leaves and then
throwing out the water or adding the leaves at the beginning of the sauce
preparation, both practices that essentially zap all the vitamins, we explained
not to do either of these.
Finally, volunteers explained how to plant a moringa seed in a plastic
bag and transplant it, pulling two adults from the crowd to act as volunteers
and demonstrate how to do this. In
conclusion, we answered questions and then I asked questions on topics covered
in the presentation and gave out little baggies of moringa powder for correct
answers. The whole thing took
about 45 minutes.
There were, as always, interesting cultural exchanges. In one village, someone made a fuss
when I started handing out powder at the end and the translator told me it was
because they were upset that I hadn’t tasted it before I gave it to them. In Benin, it is taboo to pour someone a
drink or open their drink out of their sight because by doing so the
opportunity exists for you to poison it.
Same goes with food, apparently.
The crowd wanted me to taste the moringa powder in front of them to
prove it wasn’t poison, which of course I did. Now I’ve added moringa powder to food and you generally
can’t taste it very much at all.
Turns out though, eating it straight is very honestly disgusting. It tastes like alfalfa, but it’s powder
so its very dry and, well, I was trying very hard to not make a face less they
take it as a sign that the powder was indeed poisoned. I unintentionally offended the king or
chief of another village by not asking his permission before we started our
session. He was having none of our
intrusiveness so he just walked in front of us after we’d already started and
demanded he be asked for permission.
I did, he was happy, and we continued on with it. We slept, in order, in a hospital,
Catholic mission, elementary school, and another Catholic mission. The night in the elementary school was
probably my favorite. It was in a
small village and was therefore pretty much our only option. One of the teachers opened his
classroom to let us sleep in, but most of us just put our mats outside. There were little thatch shower stalls
outside, a pump, and latrines so we were all set. When we pulled up to this village, Dambouti, I went to see
the délégué (political representative, like a lesser version of a mayor) to let
him know we’d arrived. He
told me he wanted to see the whole group so I dutifully brought back the rest
of the volunteers a few minutes later.
Someone pulled out chairs and we sat in a circle just kind of staring at
him. I assumed he called the whole
group over because he wanted to greet us, welcome us, or give some kind of
little speech or something. I was
wrong. We sat there for probably
10 minutes, him never saying a word, and then abruptly he says ok, you can
start your sensibilisation now. Us
just sitting there showed him honor I guess.
Before the tour I wondered if it would be one of those all
to frequent well-intentioned but not really influential or productive activities. As in, it is really going to be worth
all this effort and will we actually help anyone? But I think it was, and I think we did. It felt so good to be able to tell some
maman who throws away the water she boils moringa in to stop doing it because
she’s throwing out all the vitamins, and to have her nod in comprehension and
say she won’t do that anymore. To
tell people they can add moringa powder to their morning bouillie and have them
applaud in excitement and appreciation at learning this. Atacora bike tour 2012 – success.