So -- it is two days later and I will try to finish the story. They wanted me to go to this big meeting, and I didn't really want to. I had something I wanted to do in Pita on Friday. They asked me at least to address the meeting before I left for Pita. So I told them, if I were to address the meeting it would be to ask the following question: Why had all these thousands of dollars (millions of francs -- I heard estimates from two to ten million) been spent of sacrifices and ceremonies to seek God's benediction for the development of Maci, when they could have actually been used to do something for Maci such as digging wells, building a school, or even installing a solar electric system in the health center? They agreed I should go to Pita instead.
It seems people can always be counted on to mobilize and contribute their resources for a religious purpose (or a social one), but when it comes to investing in the future of their community it is a different story. If Guinea is any example, the only difference between rich and poor countries is in the management of their resources.
As I write, the dry season has not broken yet, and I am beginning to hear people remark upon it. It rained a couple of times in April, but since then, nothing. The wind continues to blow hot and dry out of the northeast, and in the afternoon the sun gets uncomfortably hot. I feel dehydrated all the time. Plus I feel dirty. The dust gets into everything. When I wash my hair, the water that rinses out of it is brown. Even so, the land is remarkably green. Right now is the peak of the mango and papaya season, and the trees are laden with fruit in a voluptuous display of abundance.
My friend Alpha Mabiri's grandfather passed away last week. He was a highly respected old man, with a reputation for wisdom and learning. I made one of my rare visits to the mosque for the funeral. However I failed to anticipate how crowded it would be and had to pray on the gravel outside with the other latecomers. The funeral was at 2:00 in the afternoon, and the gravel had had ample opportunity to bake in the sun all day. And of course Moslem prayers are always recited barefoot. So there was nothing for it; I had to stand on the burning hot gravel until the prayers were over. Any other alternative would have caused great embarrassment at a very solemn occasion. There were plenty of other people in the same situation, but it didn't bother the villagers at all. Their feet are hard as nails. As for me, I think I've had enough of the mosque for awhile. A week later, my feet are still sore. Alpha Mabiri is getting married tomorrow, to a second wife. He didn't really want to; he has been happily married to Habibatou for 18 years and had no intention of taking a second wife; but he is in a difficult situation. Since his father died a few months ago (he's also lost his uncle and a younger sister in the last few months -- it's been a rough season), he has become responsible as eldest son for his father's three widows and the rest of the family down in his natal village of Mabiri. However his wife and children need to stay at his compound in Maci Centre so the kids can attend school (Mabiri is too far). Poor Alpha spends all of his time running back and forth. It is about an hour each way by foot. What he really needs is a second wife down there in Mabiri who can keep an eye on things for him. His family was leaning on him to marry again, and recently Habibatou weighed in on their side. When he consented, she even helped to make the arrangements, approaching the family on Alpha's behalf to obtain their consent (what would traditionally be his father's role). Everyone thinks it was quite a gesture on Habi's part. Jealousy usually goes hand in hand with polygamy, but she able to quite rise above it.
At least the girl (she is sixteen) Alpha is marrying is happy with the situation. In fact it was she who proposed to him. This is not as uncommon as one might think here in the Fouta. Sometimes a marriage is arranged by the parents of the two families, but it is often initiated by the couple themselves, and it is not considered untoward for the woman to approach the man first. What does seem strange, however, is that it is considered immoral for two people to marry if they are already friends, and even more immoral if they have dated. If you are engaged to someone, you are not supposed to socialize with them. My friend D.T.O., an executive with an international N.G.O., told me his first engagement was broken off when the girl's father happened to see a picture of the two of them together at the beach. Once it was established that they already knew each other, marriage was out of the question.
Okay, that's all for now. I am at the DPS for a planning meeting as I write this, and everyone has finally arrived. I'll break this letter off and take it back up again later.
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It is now the next day. The meeting I was having with the DPS (Directeur Prefectoral de la Sante, or Prefectoral Health Director, in charge of all the doctors in the prefecture) was about the planning for our AIDS seminar. In fact it has turned into more than a seminar: a multi-faceted project of which the seminar is only one part. Before the end of May, STD-AIDS committees will be set up in each of the eleven subprefecture in Pita. Then in July we will hold a five day seminar for them, which will end with each committee establishing a three-month action plan which, upon approval, will receive funding for logistical support. At the end of these three months will be an overall evaluation followed by new 3-month action plans. I will be gone by then, but the ball will be rolling.
We have had a stroke of luck in getting this project funded. What happened was that our seminar proposal found its way to an NGO called Population Services International (PSI) at just the moment they were looking for a new way to promote AIDS publicity and education. In past years they have tried to do this by funding the National AIDS Comittee, a creature of the Health Ministry that manages, like any other Guinean government department, to swallow up its entire budget in overhead expenses without actually doing anything. PSI, itself funded by USAID and dominant in Guinea in AIDS education and family planning, was looking for a way to fund activities on the regional or local level when they received the proposal I helped the Pita AIDS Committee to draw up. They pounced on it like a tiger, and have already decided to use it as a national model, starting with a pilot test in Pita. The Pita Committee, the DPS and I are all very excited. The National Committee is in a big snit that their money tap is to be turned off. They are trying in Conakry to prevent the project from getting off the ground. However PSI has enough clout and credibility, plus a great track record, to be able to deal with the National Committee. Anyway, the Committee still has a budget from the World Health Organization for its directors to steal from.
I hope I don't sound too cynical, but it is a universally recognized fact of life in Guinea that the government exists solely to provide a system by which the elite can embezzle money. It is the type of government that has led to the invention of the word, "kleptocracy." On the other hand I must say that my DPS and his team are really exemplary; they are committed, hardworking and sincere. I have been working with them more and more lately, and it is a real pleasure because we all have the same goals.
Enough about that. Today was Alpha Mabiri's wedding, and I went down to Mabiri to attend. A wedding in the village is an all-day affair, and like everything else it revolves around the preparation and consumption of food. The cooking began early in the morning, and as the guests began to arrive, prodigious amounts of rice and sauce began to appear. They disappeared soon enough.
Last night I noticed that the wind direction had changed from the northeast to the southwest, the direction from which moist ocean air flows inland during the rainy season. Sure enough, it was lightly overcast this morning and as the day wore on, thunderheads could be seen building to the north and south. We had a couple of sprinkles in the early afternoon, and as the climax of the wedding approached, a real storm cut loose, driving everyone onto porches and inside houses. This was considered all around as a tremendous blessing upon the marriage, especially since the rains have been so late in coming.
At the climax of the wedding, the bride is "kidnapped" from her village and carried off to her new home. (This ritual seems common to many cultures; I have read of it being observed even in China.) She is completely veiled and pretends to cry. In reality, sometimes she really is crying, because she may not have had any say in the marriage and may not desire it at all. Happily of course, that was not the case today. The groom, by tradition, hides himself at the moment of the bride's arrival. No one seemed able to explain to me the reason for this part of the custom.
Anyway in the middle of the downpour, an advance party from Oumayatou's village arrived to warn of her arrival. They were all soaked to the bone. Alpha ran around to the side of the house and locked himself in a storeroom. Minutes later the rest of the party arrived, with one of the men carrying the ostensible kidnap victim on his back, as customary. Everyone dashing through the rain and thunder, as wet as if they had been swimming with their clothes on. A couple of men brought out antique shotguns and fired them into the air in celebration. This too is traditional. All the hullabaloo, the gunshots, the thunder and the noise of the rain on the metal roof combined to to make it quite a moment. Then the bride was brought inside and cloistered away, Alpha came out of his hiding place, and we all ate more rice, rather as though we were drinking a toast.
After a while the rain started to clear, and as it was getting on toward dusk I left with some others to go back to Maci Centre. However it looked like like a party was laid on for the evening. Other guests were continuing to arrive, and Alpha had even brought down the old electrical generator he has and strung up light bulbs. They are probably dancing down there tonight in that little village as I write this.
I can't help remarking again what a positive omen the rain seemed for the marriage. We are all hoping it was not an isolated phenomenon, but indicates the beginning of the rainy season.
Love, Woody