Happy World HIV/AIDS Day! (I’m not sure if “happy” is the right word, but you know what I mean.) If you didn’t know it, December 1 is World AIDS Day. Find out more.
Though Burkina participates in the WAD awareness programs, we also had a national awareness day last week. The HIV/AIDS epidemic has not hit Burkina with nearly the strength it has in other countries (official infection rates here are less than 5% compared to 30-40% for some countries), but its obvious potency and global importance is enough of a reason for a second day of campaigning.
Thursday morning a doctor (his official title is Major…I’m not sure if that means he’s a doctor or health official or what) from our village medical clinic spoke to the students and staff at my school. Before he arrived, the students placed benches in the shade of a large tree and arranged a table from which he could speak. “That’s nice,” I though. “He and some of the students will be able to sit in the shade.” Wrong. He and ALL 500 students were in the shade. To be fair, it was a big tree, and we had the benefit of long, pre-noon shadows, but still… By the end of his speech the rising sun had significantly decreased the area covered by the tree’s shade; consequently, the students were either sitting on top of each other in the shade or miserable in the sun. (And remember, this is the cold season.)
The content of the major’s speech was very informative. He talked about the history of the epidemic, a little biology, methods of transmission, and methods of prevention. I’m not sure how effective the biology portion was; the kids have never used a microscope to view a cell, and most- except for possibly the oldest- probably really don’t understand what a cell is, let alone the immune system. But the information was good. The thing that struck me the most, however, was the audience reaction to his “prevention” spiel. I expected giggles when he discussed condoms; there isn’t a seventh grader in the world who can discuss safer sex with a straight face. But it shocked me to hear bold laughter - from students and staff alike - when he mentioned abstinence. Great. so we’re all old enough to have sex, but we’re not old enough to talk about doing it safely. That’s a dangerous combo in my book. Whatever little credibility I used to give to abstinence programs, especially abstinence only programs, decreased by about 99.9% in that two minutes. Let’s spend our time talking about how to buy (I found out you CAN buy them in village), store (keep them out of the Burkinabe heat), and use condoms.
The other interesting aspect of the morning was the wide difference in knowledge levels of the adults (teachers). The spectrum ranged from an inquiry about the microbiological differences between HIV and malaria to “Why should we support rich European and American companies by buying their condoms?” Keep talking; the message has not reached everyone.
The only negative aspect of Thursday’s day of no school was that I didn’t find out about it until Monday night. So much for the test I had planned for Thursday afternoon. Next available time? A full week later. Which is difficult because a week after that is the last day of classes. Aye. We probably have as many random holidays in the US (especially for school kids) as they do in Burkina; the only difference is that we have a calendar. The Burkinabe like to keep their holidays secret as long as possible. It’s a fun game, but one that has given my uber-Type A, planning-centric style a sick stomach more than once. Not anymore. I’ve now resolved to leave the house each morning saying “If we have class today, this is what we’re going to do.” It may not be the way I’d choose to live my life, but it works wonders on the stress levels. Besides, I tell myself, every surprise holiday is a new opportunity to re-organize the rest of the trimester.
T-minus five days to my six-month in-country mark. How am I going to celebrate? A luke-cool beer from my village buvette. Cheers!
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