Latrines- an unfinished blog from like three weeks ago

I’ve been back at sitee for a week now- eager to put all of my new ideas into use. Yet it seems like my head is spinning a lot faster than the pace of life in Dombila. I found myself wanting to do everything- from plant a garden full of moringa trees to help two womens’ groups start small businesses without loosing my focus on infant malnutrition. I have to be careful not to let myself get too carried away. After all, it’s their village, it’s their projects, and I must be patient and mindful that small is beautiful. One little thing gone right is better than a dozen things started that gradually fall apart.
That being said, lo and behold, I wound up roping myself into a new project my first week back here. Upon my arrival, I found that the NGO who laid the foundation to build an addition to the school had finally returned to finish the job. A young, enthusiastic Malian engineer called Ibriham was heading up the operation. He took me on a brief tour, and showed me that they were also constructing three new latrines to add onto the 3 already situated at the school. And the ones already there are covered with leaves and dust, unused. Ibriham’s investigative mind rose to the occasion when I challenged: “Why are you building new latrines if the kids aren’t even going to use them?”
What followed was an observation of dozens and dozens of students dashing toward the bushes during 10:15 break time while the latrines stood empty, two focus group discussions with students, a meeting with the school’s director, and a new partnership between me and this engineer. We discovered that not only are the latrines not maintained (never cleaned, not stocked with water), but students are simply embarrassed to go in in fear of being ridiculed. One young girl told me that she used the latrine once and when she came out, all the boys were laughing at her “You just pooped! You came from the poop place!” Instead, students will tell their friends, “Oh, I’m going to take a walk in the fields.” Everyone knows what you’re doing, but it’s not on display in the school-yard.
With some humorous skits about smelly-clothes and hygiene, demonstrations on germs and hand-washing, and explanations on how our small village latrines can improve our health even without the luxury of running water, Ibriham and I performed sensitization lessons in each class. Our next step is to identify one student per class who can be inchage of organizing the duties of our new latrines- getting classmates to fill up the water, etc. We’ve also decided to construct two hand washing stations, hopefully with some funding help from Peace Corps, so that students can wash their hands and feet. Changing behavior like this is not easy, especially with 800 plus kids, 6 latrines, and a lot of embarassment. The biggest opponent to this is Shaka. “Aminata, if you build the hand-washing station, kids will mess with it. It will be broken in a week. Aminata, even if you build new latrines, no one will use them.” During one of our focus groups, I asked the students at the end if the latrines were clean and kids could wash their hands, would you still laugh at kids who used them. I heard I lot of “No! That’d be great!” “I’d use the latrines!” “I wouldn’t be embarrassed!” Shaka is smirking in the back. “Yeah, I’d still make fun of the kids.” Jerk. He’s just been messing with me lately because I’ve been running with Ibriham sometimes. I suggest that the three of us run together, but no, Shaka needs constant attention. We’re in kind of a joking fight- he can totally ignore me and pretend he refuses to talk until I figure out a way for him to crack a smile. I hate to admit it, but that kid’s got me wrapped around his finger.