Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Charm City


Since leaving New Mexico ten years ago, I've lived in London, Prague, Nicaragua, Colombia, Brazil, New York City, East Timor, Angola, Chad, Myanmar, and Benin. So, the next stop was obvious...Baltimore. Don't look so surprised, Baltimore has...crabs...The Wire...umm...multiple buses every day to New York.

Oh, and there's Johns Hopkins University, where I'm working on my PhD in the International Health Department in the School of Public Health. After almost four years in Africa, it was time to spend a little time in my own country and in an academic environment.

I'm debating what to do with this blog, since my daily life in the library may not provide the same quality of stories. I don't know when was the last time a rebel came through here. On the other hand, Baltimore does have its share of excitement, for better or worse. And the guy I bought my furniture from had a voodoo temple set up in his closet. Also, I do happen to be in one of the world's centers of global health learning, so maybe I'll focus more on sharing some of the bits of wisdom on saving lives I pick up here. And of course my work and research will still take me down there on a regular basis.

Monday, October 26, 2009

A Voodoo Baptism


I’ve really been neglecting the blog. The main reason for that is my busy new life back in the US. But I’m not going to talk about that just yet, since I haven’t finished up with Benin yet. I promised to let you all know what a Beninese voodoo ceremony is like, and I’m a man of my word.

With the end of my stay in Benin quickly approaching, I picked up the pressure on the USAID driver/voodoo priest that I worked with to make something happen. Finally, on my last weekend, he came through. With a little support from the white guy (me), he would perform a type of “baptism” ceremony for a new baby of a young couple who hadn’t yet been able to save enough money to do it. Ever on my guard after years in developing countries, I asked the priest, Noel, to make me a list of the things that would need to be purchased and their prices. The list read:

1 goat $45
cola nuts $20
4 chickens $7
2 bottles of perfume $4
candles $3
1 bottle of gin $7
2 packets of chalk $2.50
1 packet of needles $1
1 packet of razor blades $.30
praying money of your choice




Now initially he had listed a dog or cat for the ceremony, but I object to that one. I was already questioning whether I wanted to watch – and especially pay for – a goat or chickens get killed, but there was no way I was going to have a dog get its throat slit. My curiosity goes pretty far, but I think that’s right about where the line is. In the end, we agreed that the only animals to be sacrificed would be the chickens. Generally, I’m pretty against killing animals for non-nutritional purposes, but I justified my support with the argument that I was just helping with a ceremony that was going to happen anyway. A little weak, I know.


So, what’s a voodoo ceremony like? I’ll disappoint you right now – no pins in dolls, nobody got possessed, and alas, not one single person turned into a lion. There was lots of praying and chanting. At one point, he went to each person and rubbed cola nuts on them. Questions about the person’s future prospects were and asked, and the nuts are thrown on the ground like dice. It’s believed that a god is answering through the nuts (turned up means yes, etc.). The baby’s father, after assuring Noel that he had been treating his wife well, was outed by the nuts. It turns out he’d been out late drinking with his friends. Don’t try to fool the nuts. I’m happy to report that I’m going to very healthy, successful, and wealthy in my life.


The ceremony then moved on to the grim stage, with the slitting of some chicken throats. Just like the Santería ceremony I attended in Cuba, the chickens were rubbed on a person to soak up all the bad vibes and then are sacrificed, with the blood poured over idols on the altar.




Finally, the chickens were buried and each person had a chance to make a personal prayer. All in all, a quiet, intimate, and interesting ceremony – even a bit touching at times.


Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Dangbo, Benin

A few photos from a great trip through some pretty remote and waterlogged villages in Benin.





Monday, August 31, 2009

HELO magazine


A friend has taken the leap to follow his bright idea of creating a magazine detailing life in the humanitarian world through diverse styles of writing and photo essays on humanitarian aid, countries in conflict and life in the field. There's nothing else like it out there and it shows promise to be a quality read - and this plug is unrelated to the fact that I've contributed to it. Check out HELO Magazine.

Saturday, August 01, 2009

Oil Money

A friend of mine in Angola sent me a bunch of pictures of construction projects in Luanda that are reportedly approved or already under construction (below are just a few of them). Obviously the changes in saw in Luanda over three years were nothing compared to what's coming. While I'm glad to see tangible signs of development coming from Angola's oil wealth, I have this lingering feeling that perhaps building a bunch of luxury high-rise buildings and sports stadiums shouldn't be the country's number one priority. I guess it's safe to assume they've already taken care of those nagging problems of child and maternal mortality, malaria, AIDS, land mines, malnutrition, water and sanitation, and the lack of economic opportunities for the poor. Otherwise they wouldn't be spending all this money on shiny buildings in Luanda, right?

But even if I forget social responsibility for a minute, as someone who spent a lot of time in Luanda and was part of the upper quintile in income, I have to ask: What the hell good are all those buildings when nobody can get to them because Luanda's streets are completely gridlocked with traffic from 5am to 9pm?! How about investing in a little public transportation?








Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Nigerian Love Note

A couple months ago, I attended a World Bank conference in Cotonou. After a coffee break, it was announced that somebody had had a phone go missing. I didn’t think much of it, but when I later looked in my bag, I saw that my iPod and pocket video camera were missing. I reported it to the facility manager, who couldn’t have cared less, and wrote my electronic toys off as lost (I was particularly annoyed because I had just received that iPod from the US two days before).

The next day, while walking into the building for the second day of the conference, my colleague Simplice spotted a teenage kid who had been sitting behind us in the conference room the previous room. Simplice had suspected him as he obviously looked out of place among a bunch of middle-aged guys in suits. He gave us a “bonjour” as we walked by looking at him suspiciously.

At the morning coffee break, there was the kid, helping himself to sandwiches and a Coke. Simplice walked up to him and asked who he was and what he was doing there. The kid said he was just attending the conference because he was interested in the topic. Everybody was a bit suspicious that this teenager was that interested in the mid-term review of the World Bank Malaria Booster Program in Benin. To his credit, the kid played it cool and stuck with his story for a couple of hours. Finally, after calling the police, he broke down and admitted that he had stolen the phones and my iPod and video camera. Unfortunately, he had already sold everything the previous day. With that, the cop loaded him into a car and they went searching the streets for the people who had bought the stolen items. I cynically laughed at their futile attempt to find these random guys somewhere on the streets of Cotonou, but was impressed that they were at least making an effort.

At lunch I walked out of the conference room just in time to see the cop coming in leading two guys by the arm into a side room. They had bought the two stolen phones (which were recovered) and were now being interrogated by an ever-growing group of people. One of the guys was a young Beninese and the other was a Nigerian man that didn’t speak any French. Both were visibly very nervous. As the group of observers got larger, the interrogating turned into heckling and threatening, taking turns abusing the Nigerian in English and the Beninese in French. As the heckling escalated – people started telling them that they were going to go to prison and would get their fingers chopped off – the guys were becoming more and more panicked. At this point, the Beninese kid started sobbing uncontrollably and raised his hands in prayer with pleas to God for help. The Nigerian is talking non-stop to anyone that will listen to him. The crowd from the conference is enjoying the whole scene immensely and the more the kid cries, the harder they laugh. I was starting to feel really bad for these poor guys – I mean all they really did was buy a phone. I wanted to go give the kid a hug and tell him nobody was going to cut his fingers off. Mob justice is alive and well in Africa.

Then all of a sudden the cop walks in triumphantly with two new guys in tow and raises up my iPod and camera in victory. I’m shocked. I never thought in a million years I would ever see them again. The new guys are another Beninese and a Nigerian. Instead of handing me my things, the cop pulls me, the purchasers, and the kid who stole the stuff into a back room. I’m sure this will be the request for payment for services rendered. But, instead he explains that they found the stolen items, hands them back to me, and explains that they will deal with the thieves and I can go. I’m not sure what he had in store for those involved, but I imagine it involves them paying him to let them go.

Months later, I was looking through the videos on my camera and found some random Nigerian guy talking up at me. Before having his new purchase rudely taken from him, the guy who had bought my camera had recorded a love note to a girl (that he had never met). I was so touched, I just had to share it.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Venice of West Africa


Ganvié, sometimes referred to as "the Venice of West Africa" by people who have never been to Venice, is a town on the coast of Benin. It's a UNESCO world heritage site and if Benin has any tourist sites, this is it. The attraction lies in the fact that the whole town is on water. It might be the biggest lake village in Africa (it's hard to know things for sure in Africa).


The town was built on water to escape invading warriors from the dominant Fon ethnic group; apparently Fon warriors were forbidden by their religion from entering the water. While the likelihood of a Fon warrior attack these days is slim, the townspeople continue to live on the water.



The town did provide a nice site for photography. Unfortunately, the townspeople may have been the rudest bunch of people I've ever come across. Ironically for a tourist town, they really seem to despise tourists. There was an overt sense of hostility, with people asking for money and then acting really aggressive if you don't give, lots of dirty looks, mean-sounding comments, and hand gestures that I'm pretty sure didn't mean welcome. At one point, I even thought a guy was going to hit us with an oar. Maybe they were on better behavior when the UNESCO people visited. Anyway, it's kind of a nice place in pictures.


Monday, June 15, 2009

Now That's a Labor Problem


I remember back in a previous life when I was an intern at General Motors (good thing I didn't stick with that career path!) everybody was worrying about a possible auto workers' strike. The impact would have been...I don't know...decreased productivity and profit, some extra time with the family for the workers. Half of the French population strikes each year because they want a 4-day weekend. But in the end, I'm not sure how much these disputes affect daily life. Now imagine a labor dispute causing the hospitals and clinics in your country to close for months. Unthinkable? Not in Benin.

For three months now, nearly all public health services throughout the country have been closed, including even emergency care. Some open just one day a week, others not at all.

Not only have routine health services shut down, but due to the strike, Benin failed to take part in an 11-country polio vaccination campaign that was supposed to start on May 29th. In unrelated news, Benin has recently reported 20 new polio cases to date in 2009, compared to six cases in all of 2008 and zero cases from 2006-2007. 19 cases may not seem like a lot, but this is a disease that is on the brink of being eradicated. One polio case in a country is a failure. This news from Benin is an unmitigated disaster. Only three countries - Nigeria, India, and Sudan - have had more cases this year. That's a country with over a billion people, one in endless war, and one that's Nigeria (the perennial problem child when it comes to polio and vaccination rates). In terms of cases per population, Benin is number one. It's not known when the campaign will take place here.

So how does this happen? I don't know all the details, but it seems clear that a large portion of the blame has to go to incompetent management within the Ministry of Health and questionable priorities at higher levels. The whole problem started when the Ministry granted a bonus to doctors at the central level. This set off a chain reaction with every other level of health worker demanding a similar bonus. Unfortunately, the government doesn't have nearly enough money to pay for this. They approached international donors about covering the gap, but this goes against pretty much every donor's policies. So, they didn't pay and the health workers striked. And kept on striking.

To make matters worse, a couple ministers reportedly made a deal (without the approval of the president) to pay the bonuses to a larger number of health workers. Then they went on the news and announced the strike was over. Unfortunately, there were two problems: 1) they don't have the money and 2) the deal still didn't cover a large number of lower level health workers (who basically are the health system in Africa) and so the union was not satisfied. So, the doors remain shut.

I sure hope I don't get sick.

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Voodoo

My mission to see a man turn into a lion continues.

Benin is known as the heartland of Voodoo (spelled Vodun in Benin). It is the predominant traditional religion in parts of West Africa, especially the southern parts of Nigeria, Benin, Togo, and Ghana. There are also many commonalities with traditional religions throughout sub-Saharan African. Voodoo in Haiti, the Dominican Republic and Louisiana; Santería in Cuba; and Condomblé in Brazil are all partly based on West African Vodun, and have integrated aspects of other African religions (including from the Kongo Kingdom, where I used to live in Angola), Catholicism, and indigenous religions. Apparently, there is also a group of African-Americans in South Carolina and Georgia called the Gullah, who have maintained much of their African culture and practice a religion similar to West African Vodun (sounds like a good road trip).

[Photos from the Voodoo-related Snake Temple in Ouida, Benin]


Voodoo was about the only thing I knew about Benin when I came, and I was pretty excited about the chance to learn more about it. I’ve previously participated in a Santería ceremony in Cuba, heard endless tales of black magic in Angola, and learned about Voodoo in Haiti (and freaked everybody out at JFK airport arriving with an interesting souvenir [see below]).


While traveling to another town for work, I got to talking with the driver, Noel. It turns out he’s a Voodoo priest. We talked about his beliefs and my interest in learning about the religion. He said I was welcome to come the next time he did a ceremony. Or if I wanted, he would initiate me into Voodoo. I said I was interested, but what I really wanted to see was some of the crazy magic I had heard about in Angola (shrunken men, men turning into animals, belts turning into snakes, etc.). He said that stuff exists here, but he doesn’t do any of that. Contrary to what I learned watching The Serpent and the Rainbow, that kind of thing has nothing to do with Voodoo. Those things are magic, which always comes from the Devil. Voodoo is only used for good and is about communicating with the deities, not doing magic. So, it seems that all the cool stuff is evil…figures.

I asked Noel if he has seen magic.

“Oh, of course! It’s everywhere!”
“What have you seen?”
“Lots of stuff. A chicken is walking around, and with one word, it just drops dead. You can make people have bad stomach pain all of a sudden.”
“In Angola, people said it was common for men to be shrunken to doll size and put in bottles.”
“Oh yeah, that happens all the time. I knew a guy who used to do that all the time. He would disappear and then would appear inside a bottle. You could see him dancing around like crazy in there. He had the same face, just really little.”
“And you saw this?”
“Sure.”
“With your own eyes?”
“Yeah, I saw it!”
“So how does he get in and out of the bottle?”
“He just appears in there and then appears outside big again. But one time he couldn’t get out. Finally we broke the bottle and he died. I was at the funeral.”
“You had a funeral for a tiny shrunken man? Did he have a tiny coffin?”
“No, no. When he died he went back to normal size.”
“Oh, ok.”
“I also had an uncle who used to turn himself into a lion all the time.”
“Your uncle could turn into a lion?”
“Yeah. He did it a lot.”
“You saw this?”
“Sure.”
“With your own eyes?”
“Yeah! Lots of times. But one time, some enemies of his found his idol and broke it and he died. His body had turned back into a human, but his head was still a lion’s head.”
“Did you see the body like that?”
“Sure, we drove it all the way back from the village like that.”
“So, you had a body of a half-human, half-lion and you didn’t take a picture?”
“Well, we didn’t want to upset his children if they saw a picture of their dead father.”
“Yeah, but come on, it’s a person with a lion’s head. You didn’t feel any desire to share that with the world?”
“Would you want someone to take a picture of your father’s body?”
“If he had a lion’s head, yeah!”

Of course, Noel doesn’t do this kind of thing. He can however, help somebody find love or a good job. In fact, he has a lot of foreigners who send him money and their name and he helps them with a problem they have (and asked if I had any friends in the U.S. who were interested in Voodoo). I expressed my skepticism to Noel. For every example of proof of his powers (A guy was looking for a job and couldn’t fine one, then after going to Noel, he found the job he wanted), I would give a reason why that was not actually proof (Maybe the guy just found a job). As the aspiring epidemiologist that I am, I said I would like to do a randomized case-control study to see whether the people he helps actually have better fortunes than the control group. He didn’t seem that interested in the idea.

We’re now talking about preparing a Voodoo initiation ceremony for me. At the very least, I should get some good photos and a story out of it.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Pendjari

Lots of people think Africa is all about lions and elephants. In fact, I rarely run into lions here. But it does happen on occasion. A few weeks ago, I traveled to the north of Benin to visit the Pendjari park. West Africa's generally not known for its parks and big game, but there are still a few animals running around.


[Trash cans...the new natural habitat of baboons.]

[Word in the park was that nobody had seen a lion in many months. We caught this one cruising with a baby warthog in her mouth.]


[We even spotted the elusive West African Amish.]

Thursday, May 07, 2009

Another Year, Another Rebel Invasion Season


This time last year, I was living in Chad. A peace accord had recently been signed by the presidents of Chad and Sudan with the aim of ending the support each country provides to the other's rebel groups. Most people held their optimism at bay considering that a peace deal had also been signed in 2007 and, well, that didn't really work out so well, with rebels invading and nearly taking N'djamena in early 2008 (subsequently, the Chadian government dug a moat around the city, a piece of information that remains one of my all-time favorites). Shortly after last year's peace deal was signed, Chadian rebel groups were making incursions into eastern Chad and Sudanese rebels attacked Khartoum (one year ago last Sunday - happy anniversary!). Both countries accused each other (rightly) of supporting the other's rebels and ties between the countries were broken. Further rebel invasions in Chad ensued and I was making preparations for evacuation.

Fast forward to 2009.

May 4: The presidents of Chad and Sudan sign a peace deal ending hostilities. Yay! Peace at last!

May 6: Chadian rebels invade eastern Chad and engage in fighting with the Chadian military. Doh!

No peace deal is going to stand in the way of the cycles of nature. Dry season comes along and Chadian rebels make their annual migration towards N'djamena.

Seriously though, if you're not going to stop the rebel invasions, at least put an end to the peace accords. It's all getting a bit tiresome.

Rebels were also reported to be in the border region between Chad and the Central African Republic, which has me a little worried, as that is where I was living and I still have friends there. I talked to one of my colleagues there who says that rebels have been seen in the border area, but so far things are calm in the south.

Friday, May 01, 2009

Mullahs and Spanking Skirts

There's a story I've been waiting for for months. Adam was reporting from Afghanistan and Pakistan for a few months. Of course, he came with the obligatory stories of insurgents, bombs, religious radicals, blah, blah, blah. But I've been waiting for the story about the little sex apparel factory in Karachi, Pakistan. The one where the employees don't really get why the outfit they're producing has that hole there. Finally, the piece has run in the New York Times, and it doesn't disappoint. The video, in particular, is pretty amazing. I would love to start a podcast of these guys reading erotic stories.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Slavery + Jacksons = One Great Vacation



I'm already planning my vacation. It's such an obvious idea, I can't believe nobody has thought of it before: a slave history theme park and Jackson 5 museum, all in one place. Brilliant.

Marlon Jackson, Micheal's brother, has come up with the completely random idea to build a $3.4 billion luxury resort in Nigeria. The themes of the resort are to be the horror of the inter-continental slave trade and a celebration of the poppy greatness of the Jackson 5.

For some reason, a lot of people seem to have taken offense to the idea, saying, "It's like dancing on the graves of dead people and telling them your honoring them."

Maybe they have a point. It would be a little hard to remain solemn while viewing photos of terrible atrocities with ABC playing in the background. They certainly did choose the right location though. It would be just wrong to build this anywhere but Nigeria.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The Beauty of Animated Statistics

Check out the video below and many more like it at gapminder.org. A fascinating way to see the world through statistics. And he swallows a sword.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Is There a Role for Religion?

This post was cut up so much by the World Bank censors, there wasn't even any point in posting it. I'm starting to think the World Bank may not be the ideal vehicle for my self-expression. At least I can still offend whoever I want on this blog.


So the Pope says it’s just not as good when you use condoms…control of the AIDS epidemic that is.

I just finished blogging about how science, not religion or ideology, should be guiding our decisions on global health policy and what happens? The Pope has to come to Africa and tell people not to use condoms. What the hell?! Did he not read my post?

Not only did he discourage the use of condoms (which is nothing new from the Vatican), but he went so far as to say that condom use can make the epidemic worse. He backed up this controversial assertion with…um…nothing. Oh wait, I almost forgot, the Pope is infallible.

The Pope’s recent comments just underscore for me how far out of touch the Catholic Church is with the issues facing the modern world and exemplifies why the church continues to lose support in most parts of the world. In fact, Africa has become the Vatican’s best hope for continued relevance.

But the problem goes beyond the Pope and the Vatican. At the funeral for a three-year old girl who recently died here in Benin, the priest addressed the question of why such a young child should be taken. His answer: God has a plan for us and only he can decide when our time has come. He advised the child’s mother that she should celebrate that the child is with God, rather than mourning her loss. This statement angered me. Both because it seems to me that pain and loss are the only appropriate emotions for a mother who has just lost her child and because of the deeper implications of his statement. If I take that comment to its logical conclusion, what he said was that my work, and the work of everybody who is trying to reduce mortality, is a waste of time because, in the end, it’s not up to us. I personally find these kinds of statements – and beliefs – entirely unhelpful. There are things we can do to prevent our children from dying and mothers and fathers need to know that they are the key to improving and ensuring their children’s health.

Then we have other examples – Americans who refuse to vaccinate their children, denial of women’s rights, children who are killed because of traditional beliefs, the Hindu caste system – of harmful practices carried out in religion’s name.

On the other hand, I’m sure the majority of health advice given in churches and mosques and temples is good advice. And I’ve been to many an African village where the local church or mosque is the one institution that can reach and mobilize the whole community.


The cases of harmful religious practices I point out above can be – often rightly – dismissed as the work of extremists operating outside the code of established religion. In fact, some claim that scientific evidence shows that religion has a positive impact on health. Others, of course, question this evidence. However, the comments of the Pope are a stark example of how mainstream religious teaching can discourage rational examination and reduce belief in scientific evidence.

So my question is, is there (or should there be) a role for religion in determining policy on development, global health, etc? Is the church – or other religious institutions – beneficial, harmful, or simply irrelevant when it comes to global development and health policy?
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