Tuesday, March 5, 2013

"What's the weather going to be like today?"


In America we have names for the seasons: spring, summer, autumn, winter. In Togo we also have names for the seasons, which translate in English to: rainy, dusty, hot, dry. Do we romanticize the seasons in America with pretty names? Spring is rainy, summer is hot, winter is dry... Perhaps we do, perhaps we also are not as connected with the conditions of the earth and the weather. No matter the season, in America, my diet is the same, my water still comes from a faucet – both hot and cold, on demand, and is never limited – I can always find a comfortable temperature in my house, and both my work and my weekly schedule remain constant.

Here in Togo, it is always hot. I have worn a long-sleeved shirt less times than I have fingers and I have worn a sweatshirt once, when I was in an overly air-conditioned office. Sunscreen is required year-round – and yes, this includes dusty and rainy season. However, even though my wardrobe remains constant, the features of my surroundings change with the seasons. By the end of rainy season, the grass in fields is taller than I am. In dusty, hot, and dry season, the crackly grass has been burned and reveals piles of trash – mostly plastic bags used for food or water. At least I don't have to worry about hidden snakes.

The other weekend, my sitemate, Ta'Mar, and I decided to escape our usual dusty season scenery and visit a friend, Arvo. Arvo lives in a small village located near a Togolese National Park. Although the area was not glowing green and the rivers were not overflowing, the motorcycle ride there was enough to convince me that yes, I do belong in Togo – at least for these next two years.  

Images taken on the motorcycle ride to Arvo's village. Upper-right: mosque; lower-right: classic scene of loading/unloading "bush taxis"; lower left: piles of wood on the side of the street for sale (a classic image during dusty and dry season); middle-left: a home among the scene; upper left: an ambulance passes.


Upper-right: trees during dusty season; middle-right: the view from Arvo's house at night; lower-right: view from the motorcycle drive; left: part of the visit including dancing at a wedding celebration.

Monday, March 4, 2013

Let's get down to business


Recently, I drafted an article for a Peace Corps, Togo in-country publication, which is released for volunteers and Peace Corps staff – think college magazine or newspaper. As I was thinking about what to post for a blog entry, I realized that this may be information that I could share to further illustrate some of my work here. I edited it a bit as my audience is different – but the story remains the same.


The Battle for Clean Street Food: Environmental Impacts on the Sanitation of our Food and Conveying the Repercussions

When I first came to my village, I was impressed by the strategies employed by my work partner and his team regarding the sanitation of food throughout town. First, I learned that it was necessary that all vendors of food were certified. Certification entails training on nutritional hygiene and sanitation practices – prepare food in a sanitary location, wash hands when touching food, cover food, do not prepare food when sick, wash all dishes, use clean water etc. – and periodic retraining on these practices. If a vendor is found mis-practicing or without the certification card, which includes a head-shot of the vendor, the vendor is subject to a fine. Before the vendor can sell again, it is mandatory that the fine be paid. I also accompanied the hygiene and sanitation department on school visits during the first week of the fall semester. These visits included educational sessions for all vendors at schools and ensuring that all vendors were certified. My work partner presented about the importance of dish washing, clean water, food preparation, hand washing, and attempting to control the flood of students grabbing for food. After watching the regulations exercised throughout town, I was feeling confident that my street food was impeccably sanitary.

Top: local street food; bottom: local trash pile.

One day at the hygiene and sanitation office, I came across a notebook documenting the street food vendors in town. The notebook included the status of each vendor’s health as each vendor is tested for intestinal parasites upon becoming certified to sell food. I conducted a brief randomized sample and calculated the approximate percentage of street vendors with intestinal parasites within any given one month. Sixty percent of street food vendors in town have intestinal parasites within any one given month. Street food vendors who do not have intestinal parasites at the time of the test receive medication preventing against parasites.

The close monitoring of street food vendors across town, in schools, and in the market occurs for a reason – even in a town with accessible sanitary water, the struggle to obtain sanitary food is a harsh reality. Unhygienic and unsanitary environmental conditions impact the contents of our food. My work partner often informs me about inspections that he conducts throughout town. Although street vendors are certified and are therefore aware of sanitary food practices and the enforcement of these practices, street food stands are located immediately next to makeshift latrines, or large piles of trash. The street vendors may be taking precautions, and the agents of hygiene and sanitation may be accurately prescribing medication for the control of intestinal parasites; however, there are a few missing pieces to the equation of sanitary food.

When I ask agents of hygiene and sanitation about the major road blocks on this mission to behavior change they explain to me the challenge of conveying the gravity of sanitation to an audience that has an extremely minimal foundation of science. I don't see my intestinal parasites and worms. I see that fly, but I don't know that it's coming straight from the neighboring pile of excrement. I don't see the germs. In fact, that looks clean. In order for behavior to change, it is necessary to communicate the contamination of this seemingly clean environment and just how deeply that impacts one's health. This is where our work comes in, and this is where – if you ask me – the work gets fun.

To encourage individuals to wash their hands, we use oil or glitter to represent germs. Just like you need soap to wash off oil or glitter, you need soap to wash off germs. Thankfully, it is commonly understood that germs cause sickness. Now, how does one encourage one not to defecate in public? A community mapping activity that relies on a village-wide walk collecting samples of public excrement and showing not only the prevalence of public waste, but also the cycle of flies moving from your plate of lunch to that pile of you-know-what a few feet away. This visual, hands-on, community-centered activity conveys the message. The way that you shape your environment's sanitation can directly affect your health. Can you see it?

This community exercise to inspire behavior change related to public hygiene and sanitation practices is a brainchild of Kamal Kar, who is a public health worker. The exercise that I briefly mentioned is a strategy known as community-led total sanitation (CLTS). More on CLTS, or Kamal Kar, can easily be found through a search online. The training manual for CLTS workshops can be found online here: http://www.communityledtotalsanitation.org/resource/handbook-community-led-totalsanitation.