The Palud

I wasn’t feeling well for a while, and after some serious GI issues and a fever overnight, I went to the clinic in the morning and the doctor prescribed an antibiotic, a de-worming tablet, and Immodium (to cover the broad spectrum of issues). He also took a blood sample to check for an infection and malaria (paludisme, or “the palud” as my coworkers call it).

I started the antibiotic and drank a lot of fluids and lay in bed for a few hours. I visited the clinic again in the afternoon to get the results, which showed that I had malaria, too. Awesome. The doctor explained that when the body is run down (like with diarrhea), even while taking daily malaria prophylaxis (and taking other preventive measures like sleeping under a bednet and using bug spray) it is possible to get malaria. He said that if I weren't taking the doxycycline, it is likely I would have a severe malaria, but not the case now. He prescribed a 3-day course of treatment which my housemate went to the pharmacy to fill for me. The treatment was 4 pills in the morning and 4 pills in the evening for 3 days. My system was a bit of a wreck after all the meds at once and no food in it.

My housemates were extremely helpful, feeding me lots of fluids and rehydration salts until my system could handle something solid. During this time, the water was cut several times, making it nearly impossible to hang in there while the daytime temperatures rose to 104F, with little relief at night. I was out of work for a week and only left the house to go to the clinic twice.

Despite how miserable I felt, there were lots of people helping to take care of me, with coworkers calling to check in on me (or stopping by the house even), and the doctor said I could call any time (in fact, he's the director of the clinic and at first asked if I were a Peace Corps Volunteer since he treats most of them). My coworkers were impressed that I managed to get myself sick with both of our major study outcomes simultaneously (diarrhea and malaria). Somebody, (Jess, this is your cue) find a vaccine!!

La Petite Shelby

Recently I received a message from the plumber who fixed our kitchen sink a few weeks ago. He wrote, "Bonjour, I would like to inform you that I gave your prenom, Shelby, to my daughter, born 21/01/10. I hope you will come to meet her." Although I had to read it a few times to make sure I understood, I immediately thought it was quite endearing.

My housemate, upon hearing this, exclaimed, “La petite Shelby!” She read the message and suggested that they may be looking for a "godmother" from the U.S. Unsure of how to proceed, I asked one of my Burkinabe collaborators for advice. He’s a father of teenage kids and a huge smile spread across his face when I read the text message. He confirmed that they wanted me to be the godmother; which meant that when I visit, I should bring a gift. He elaborated, “They like the name, and you must have left a nice impression. It’s very nice! OK, since it’s a girl, bring four pieces of soap as cadeau.”

I asked, “Why four?”

“Because girls get four, and boys get five. They’re supposed to get three, according to tradition, but three is too few and it must be different than what girls receive, so boys get five,” he explained. “Anyways, give soap and maybe a piece of clothing or something for the baby.”

I thanked him for his advice and checked with a female collaborator regarding exactly which type of soap one buys. She advised well because after I went to visit last week, the family sent a message saying, “A thousand thanks for coming to visit and for bringing us a gift. Infinite thanks. Stay in contact and have a good evening.”

I took a taxi to a landmark in Bobo (the “sweeping lady” statue – a bronze of a woman with a broom in her hand) and Petite Shelby’s dad picked me up on his moto. We drove down the main paved road, then turned off on an unpaved road and drove to the house through a busy neighborhood with lots of kids playing in the courtyards.

When we arrived, I was offered a chair and introduced to Petite Shelby’s grandmother, mother, two aunts, and a neighbor. All the women, except one aunt, spoke only Dioula, so it was the usual mix of French and charades and a few key greetings in Dioula. It was very sweet, mom nursed the baby then wrapped her in a cloth over her outfit and handed her to me. She’s a beautiful little baby and looks healthy. Her ears were pierced already and a few pieces of string through them, signifying that she’s a girl. She was nearly asleep by the time I gave her back to mom!

I presented the gift to Petite Shelby’s grandmother (as her dad said is protocol) and she thanked me but did not open it. I was hoping to watch them open it, not only because half the fun of giving gifts at home is watching the reactions of the recipients, but because I had tucked into the bag a small box with a silver keychain-become-pendant with “Shelby” engraved on it. My parents sent it from Seattle for me because my mom is seeing magnets and the like with my name written on it (a rare find when I was a child), but said that it would be a nice gift for Petite Shelby.

I stayed for about an hour, then as it turned dark, “asked for the road” (as is protocol here). As I left the house, I had a brief lesson in Dioula farewells and exchanged lots of laughs with all the women before Petite Shelby’s dad took me home on his moto. I hope to see them all again before long.