Infectious

If I had to describe my last two weeks with one word, it would be infectious. It’s not a beautiful word, but it is a bit fun to say. Its connotations arouse images of hospital beds, hazmat suits, sneezes, and a runny nose. In fact, I find it difficult not to add “diseases” each time I say infectious. Infectious, however, also means communicable, transferrable, and catching, and while my last two weeks certainly had its share of the bad kind of infectious, it also saw a good share of the other, better kind of infectious.

About two weeks ago I noticed a growing skin infection on my left arm. I had previously and successfully treated some minor red inflammation on my arms with allergy medications, but this infection was not as kind. I’ll spare the reader the details but suffice it to say that by the beginning of the work week my underarms were blistered with, well, blisters. Or maybe they were boils. What mattered was the discomfort and pain that had – mainly metaphorically - really gotten under my skin. I did what any good volunteer would do and neglected to call the doctor and instead consulted my health manual. Each home remedy, however, failed, so the situation boiled down to a choice: Call the doctor, or suffer. Tough one, I know.

I fought the infection the following five nights at Peace Corps Benin headquarters armed with a regime of antibiotics, hot showers, A/C, and Indian food. The antibiotics worked like a charm, and I even had my own sickroom, which, believe me, was anything but the pits. Over a dozen other volunteers showed up that weekend for various reasons of work, health, and leisure. We passed the time in small and large groups cooking, grocery shopping, and watching movies (when we weren’t working of course). The antibiotics, amenities, and atmosphere were exactly what I needed for my physical and mental health. Just as carrying lemongrass under the arm (maybe-kinda-sorta-in theory) made my arms infectious in making me sick, the camaraderie of peers and peace of the workstation were infectious in making me feel better. We even had the chance to visit Cotonou’s new movie theater to see Black Panther. The mainly Beninese crowd loved the references to the art and history of their nation.

By the end of the weekend, however, I was itching more to leave than I ever had with boily pits. I was almost completely healed and only needed to send pit pic updates mid-week. I left the workstation Monday and returned to site. Since then I have found good moods and work infectious to my wellbeing. Many community members warmly welcomed me back and asked me about my health, my friends, my family, my day, my work, and so on. (Greetings can take a while, but that’s half the fun.) Five nights away from work were what the doctor ordered, but it was the side-effect on my perspective that mattered most as I took in common sights with renewed novelty – be they baobab, monkey, or the always pristine Lac Ahémé. Moreover, work was picking up and feeding off itself as one activity compounded in size or led to another. Preparing for a site visit from Peace Corps staff turned into planning a training on seedbed management and crop rotation, which in turn led my work team to begin planning outreach to community focus groups. Starting my English clubs snowballed into starting an Environment Club where we’ll teach third graders about climate and gardening. Having meaningful work to do has only fortified my sense of presence and purpose at site in another infectious turn of events.

My work counterpart and I collect dead leaves to cover seed beds

and protect them from weeds and erosion.

My colleagues and I taught students the seasons of temperate climates.

We'll soon move on to those of tropical climates and to gardening basics. 

In the coming weeks I’ll receive a visit from Peace Corps staff who will check in with me at site and then I’ll head back to Lokossa for two weeks of training in gardening best practices, teaching in local language, and villages savings and loans associations. I look forward to these lessons and keeping my days infectious. Well, the non-boily kind at least.