Busy Body

I’ve been busy lately.

With the help of my counterpart, I’ve been administering surveys to cashew farmers, exporters and transporters for a study commissioned by the West Africa Trade Hub. This study is the one that took us to Ghana in November and aims to analyze the income multiplier effect of exporting goods like cashews, shea butter and handcrafts out of West Africa. These products can be sold with very high margins abroad but garner very little for the producers and value chain within West Africa. It’s been a fascinating look into a trade microcosm that’s been swirling around me and I’m glad that I took a deep dive from the periphery.

I’ve also been helping to plan the Close-of-Service party for the group of PCVs that are leaving this summer. Friday’s the big day and the party will be quite the Soirée Rubix. Stay tuned to Facebook for pictures! We have exactly 100 confirmed RSVPs, meaning nearly every PCV in country will be attending.

One thing I’ve been pondering in village is what my role is in terms of sharing my culture and Western knowledge and to what extent it’s appropriate. For example, the other day I rode my bike past a group of children that were excitedly running back and forth through a cloud of exhaust coming from a stationary motorcycle. The kids were laughing and it looked exactly like American kids running through a lawn sprinkler on a hot summer day. Adding to my horror was that an adult man was revving the engine for them so that a continuous stream of exhaust was being funneled towards the children. I wanted to stop my bike and say “Hey, guy, you’re literally going to kill those kids’” but I wasn’t sure if this was appropriate. There are (obviously) no emissions standards here, and people breathe in large black clouds of exhaust all the time and don’t consider it harmful. Plus, where would I draw the line on being a butt-in-sky? Would I tell a mother to stop beating her child in public because we don’t do that in America, despite wide cultural acceptance here? Would I advise my fellow patrons at a restaurant to wash their hands with soap prior to eating? Would I storm into people’s houses to see if they were sleeping under mosquito nets to avoid contracting malaria? These have always been delicate areas for me as I have conviction in the righteousness of my knowledge on these subjects, but I’m not here to be a naysayer or Debbie Downer either.