Just when you thought "Maybe she hasn't completely lost it..."

EPIC STORY-TIME

with your host, Kelsey

 (Bern, you're welcome for the free publicity.  

Just put my check in the mail.)

"The Origins of Fougoumba," 

as relayed to me by Dioulde Barry, story-teller extraordinaire.

According to Fulbhe legend the religious capital of the Fouta Jallon was determined not by wise men or ancient mystics, but by a cow.

The Fulbhe (aka Peuhls or the Fula people, meaning “Pulaar-speakers”) began as a nomadic culture of herdsmen, originating... well, that depends on who’s telling the story.  There are theories that they came from Egypt or Ethiopia, some say the culture came into being as a result of Arab traders intermingling with members of black African tribes.  Anyhow, as legend goes, the Fulbhe migrated across Africa, diverging and finally settling at different points in the west.  To my (quite limited) knowledge, there are significant numbers of Pulaar-speakers in Senegal, Sierra Leone, Cameroon, Cote d’Ivoire, Benin, Cameroon and, of course, Guinea. 

The Guinean Fulbhe launched an assault on the Diakanké, people indigenous to what is now the “Fouta Jallon.”  According the story, after conquering the Diakanké and assuming them into their tribe, the massive group of Fulbhe split in two.  The two groups were led by brothers who decided that their interests were simply too different for them to stay together.  One brother led his people off to Timbo, where they established the political capital of the Fouta.  The other brother journeyed off into the bush, his confidence buoyed by a prophecy that he would receive a divine sign indicating where he should settle.  The divine sign came one day when a cow from his herd became stuck in a swamp.   

Unable to budge the cow, the brother paused to consider his predicament.  At that moment he saw a bird fly directly overhead and he understood that the heavens were telling him to develop that area into the Fouta’s religious capital.   

 

The swampland was organized, developed, and cultivated until it became our modern-day “Fougoumba.”  It is a small, quiet village surrounded by sacred forests and crowned by a beautiful mosque that was donated by former Guinean president, Lansana Conté.  I often go to Fougoumba on my bike rides simply to enjoy the serenity found there.   

(Modern-day Fougoumba)

There’s also a rumor that you can see chimpanzees near the sacred forest... but I’ve been unlucky in that respect.

 ~ ~ ~         ~ ~ ~         ~ ~ ~

Today, I had a run-in with some of the very founding fathers/mothers of Fougoumba, which inspired me to share this piece of cow culture with you.

Though they don’t share the “sacred” status of their Indian brethren, cows in the Fouta are seen as a symbol of great social status.  Unlike the U.S., where they’re tagged and guarded fiercely by ranchers, cows here are branded at a young age and left to roam free all across the countryside.  It baffles my mind how people seem to be able to intuitively locate their livestock with minimal effort.  Cow-thefts are rare, given that people have to prove where their beef came from before they can sell it at market.  If you’re caught trying to sell someone else’s beef, you’ve got one heck of a beating in store. 

As banks have yet to arrive in the far-reaches of the Guinean bush, cows are essentially seen as a means of attaining financial stability here.  Instead of guarding your stack of money underneath your mattress, you invest in livestock.  Of course, my mind immediately goes to the worst-case scenario: What if your cow disappears?  You’d be broke, right?  Well, it seems that many Guineans are very crafty investors in this regard.  Some of the wealthiest citizens of Ditinn and the surrounding areas made their fortune through cattle breeding, and continue to do so to an extent that allows them to live in considerable comfort as well as construct beautiful homes for their family members. 

Aside from being one of the most important sources of protein in our village, cows provide a number of different services and products.  Their hides are converted into highly-prized leather goods such as bags, wallets, belts and shoes.  Their horns are a perfect chew toy for guard dogs.  Their hooves and skulls are used for a variety of traditional medicines and fetish items (like talismans).  They’re of vital importance to the village’s economic well-being, also; farmers harness cows to till their fields, and use huge quantities of cow dung to fertilize their staple crops of corn, rice, potatoes and cassava.  I’m sure there are other uses that I am unaware of, and I don’t pretend to understand all the ins and outs of Guinea’s cow-human symbiosis (that would take decades of living here).  These are just a few observations.  Strangely, comparing someone to a cow can be both the best of compliments as well as the deepest of insults.  Though, I suppose that’s similar to when we call someone a “bull” or, conversely, a “fat, stupid cow.”  Maybe our cultures are more similar than I first thought...

Since they’re so highly-valued, cows basically have the run of our valley.  I’ve found them everywhere; at the waterfall, in my backyard, practically inside my classroom and, most frequently, in their favorite napping/digesting spot – the middle of the road.  I’ve been challenged by angry mama cows, I’ve been in a taxi that had to play bumper-cars with a stubborn bull until we could squeeze by on a narrow gravel road running through a small village, and I’ve been fortunate enough to develop a very tranquil and mutually-beneficial relationship with a cow that comes to my back window when I discard fruit and vegetable peels at night.  Who needs a garbage disposal when you’ve got Old Bessie?   I’ve also become adept at weaving calmly between herds such as this one:

(Talk about a deterrent for speeding motorists...)

I anticipate missing this familiarity with cattle after going home; their presence, their smell, their wild moo-ing has become an odd source of comfort for me here.  Aside from dodging the odd cow-pie here and there, it’s quite nice to live amongst free creatures.  

Maybe I'll just sell all my earthly belongings, move to Texas and become a cowgirl once and for all.

p.s. That cow to the far right isn’t moo-ing, it’s trying to swallow a plastic bag.  They may look regal, but they sure aren’t the brightest bulbs.

END

Ebola

Maybe you’ve heard, maybe you haven’t – I’m really uncertain as to how publicized this has been in the outside world – but, Guinea, Liberia and Sierra Leone are dealing with an outbreak of Ebola.  My knowledge is like a patchwork quilt; various bits have been culled from Guinean news sources, the BBC, Peace Corps Guinea, the CDC, and a Peace Corps volunteer who did post-grad research on the virus. 

I’d like to share that knowledge, as well as some personal experiences in the hopes of shedding some light on the situation for you.

To begin, this is the first time the Ebola virus has been identified this far west in Africa.  The closest outbreak took place in 1994 in Cote d’Ivoire, and the most recent was in 2012 in Uganda.  The virus was originally identified in 1976 in the Ebola river of Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of Congo).  Among its natural hosts are chimpanzees, monkeys, bats, and rodents.  Animal-to-human transmission has occurred when people come into contact with the bodily fluids of infected animals, generally through consumption of undercooked meat.  It’s suspected that Guinea’s introduction to Ebola happened when people in the southeastern Forest region ate undercooked bat meat. 

In humans, the virus initially presents flu-like symptoms, but quickly transitions into a much more extreme illness.  People suffer from high-fever, diarrhea, vomiting, and both internal and external bleeding.  As of yet, there is no medicinal cure or vaccination for Ebola, so treatment involves strict isolation and fluid-replacement.  Unfortunately, the fatality rate in this outbreak has been in the 75%-85% range.  Currently, Doctors Without Borders, the World Health Organization, and Red Cross are collaborating to contain the virus and treat those infected in Guinea, Liberia and Sierra Leone.

Human-to-human transmission occurs when people come into direct contact with the bodily fluids of an infected person who is severly symptomatic.  It’s not airborne, so it’s not transmissible as the common cold is transmissible.  Transmission requires a significant amount of exposure to a violently ill person and so, as in the past, those who have contracted Ebola in Guinea have been family members and medical staff that provided direct care to Ebola patients.  Now, since it sounds like containment of Ebola should be a quick fix – just don’t touch sick people, right? – here’s a little explanation as to why the virus has endured for so long this time around.

Guinea, Sierra Leone and Liberia share similar customs when it comes to treating sickness and dealing with death.  Family members are expected to visit the ill, to lavish care upon them, and to spend a significant amount of time in their presence.  If the sick person passes away, family members clean the body by hand before burial.  When a person passes away due to Ebola, their body remains a source of contagion, a previously little-known fact to those living in rural West Africa.  Unfortunately, hygeinic practices in these rural regions vary widely, dependant mainly on the amount of education of the parties involved and the accessibility of soap, clean water, and bleach.  As you might expect, rural West Africa faces a dearth of adequate medical facilities, trained health care providers, well-trained health educators, and cleaning agents.  Before Ebola was confirmed in Guinea, many unsuspecting people traveled to pay their respects at family funerals, came into contact with the deceased, contracted the virus, and then returned home in Guinea, Sierra Leone, and Liberia.  Now, people can contract Ebola and remain asymptomatic for up to 21 days.  During this time they are not contagious, and do not appear to be sick in the slightest.  This has been the reason for the wide geographical spread of Ebola.

Overview completed, on to the more personal aspect of the outbreak now.

Misinformation and stigma have contributed to the continuation of the outbreak in Guinea.  In Macenta a group of people attacked a Doctors Without Borders isolation unit, taking their sick family members out and returning home.  The family members threw rocks at the health care providers, and so the organization temporarily vacated the site to protect their staff’s safety.  There are rumors floating around, inspired by distrust of foreigners and foreign aid, blaming non-Africans for conspiring to spread the disease.  Many people still do not understand how Ebola is transmitted, hell, most in my village have a very limited understanding of how viruses work at all, but I don’t want to give the impression that there is widespread panic in Guinea.  I think certain newspapers have already done an adequate job of painting this area as a chaotic mass of mindless and virulent savages, I want to do my part to quash that image.  Please take all information you read or see on the TV with a grain of salt.  People are not panicking, but they are confused.  Fear is definitely a player here, but what appears to be most frustrating for Guineans is the seeming lack of interest on the part of governing bodies, both domestic and foreign.  Thanks to collaboration between the aforementioned international organizations and Guinean citizens, I have seen improvements in hygeinic practices within the past few months, both myself and other volunteers have participated in awareness-raising campaigns, and Ebola has become a topic of intellectual discussion as opposed to a symbol of destruction.  I have witnessed students educating their parents, and have heard of medical staff training villagers to complete their religious duties while protecting their health.  As a Peace Corps volunteers, we’re kept up-to-date on Ebola outbreak developments, and we are prohibited from spending time in medical facilities.  Overall, there is calm and there is hope over on this side of the Atlantic.

There now, that concludes this rather worrisome post.  

I’m working on a big culminating entry, so keep your eyes peeled!

Much love!