26 mai 2011

Some fun stats:

Number of phone calls made/attempted to the red white and blue this month: 4 (Lillian's B-day, Hilary's B-day, Sarah's B-day, Tom's Graduation)

Ticks I've pulled off of Ashia to date: 10

Last three injuries: Burnt wrist on pan when making tortillas for breakfast, hit fingernail with hammer when putting up Peace Corps poster in house, scrape on arm from Ashia biting me

Biggest food cravings of this week: J. Morgans Greek Salad and Weathervane fried haddock with fresh lemon squeezed on

Number of times I've eaten couscous in the past five days: 7

Song stuck in head right now: Up All Night by Drake ?? what is it with these random songs in my head ??

Just some of my peeps

Healthcare Thoughts

So....a couple words about healthcare. Everyday at the health center, parents bring in their very ill children. The most common illness this time of year is malaria. In its' earliest stages, malaria causes a fever and body aches. If a family waits to treat their child (or maybe goes to a traditional healer first for some short-term medication) the symptoms progress to a higher fever, more body pain, vomitting and diarrhea. If a family still waits, anemia sets in as the child's blood cells are further attacked by the bacteria. Severe anemia results in convulsions and fainting. When a parent brings their child to the health center at this most-severe point, the illness has spread too far and the only thing we can do is refer the family to Ngaoundere because the child needs a blood transfusion. Since I have been here, I have seen this result four times. The largest question, or quanundrum, in my head, is why? why do the families wait until the stage is this severe? This question is one I am trying to uncover and I believe finding the answer may help me to become a more-efficient health volunteer here.

Ok, so I have seen the health center side of the story. But recently, a neighbor of mine was very sick with malaria. I went to visit the family and asked how everyone was and where Mariama was? "She's sick" someone said. She was sleeping. I went into the room where she was lying on the mat. I touched her forehead; she was burning up. "You need to take her to the health center tomorrow" I said to the mother. Ok yes. ok. She agreed.

The day went by at the health center and...no Mariama. When I got home in the afternoon, I went straight to their house and asked why they didn't bring her to the health center. They said they didn't have money. "That is not true" I said, "you just bought a new panya last week. The longer you wait to take her, the more expensive the treatment is going to be." Ok, mama agreed. Tomorrow.
...No Mariama again the next day at the health center. At this point, I was furious. Here was a situation I kept seeing day after day at the center with parents not bringing their children to get treatment until the illness was so severe that we couldn't do anything, and this was happening with my friends. Why didn't they want to bring her? They are nice people. The health center is not that far. They have money. Then what was stopping them?

I stopped by their house again in the evening. To my surprise, Mariama was awake, up and turning couscous. "She is better? I didn't see you at the health center today?" I asked. "We gave her come traditional medicine", mama said. Next to Mariama was a tall soda bottle with some orange leaves and liquid inside. Mariama kept taking small sips and quinching after because of the bad taste. But the traditional medicine worked. This time.

So when a parent brings their child to the health center because they seized due to malaria, we blame them for not doing anything. But the truth is that parents try a lot before they come to us. Waiting for the body to heal itself. Traditional medicines galore. Some of the time the herbal remedies work...but when they don't, we take the brunt of the waiting.

Another thought about health. I've noticed when talking with people that being sick is just as normal as being healthy. With malaria being so common and a host of other creatures in the water and food, it is accepted to be sick once or twice a week. Do my fellow Americans feel this same way about their health? I can remember times when working in the Emergency Room when people would come in for a simple back ache or cold in order to get medication that worked fast so they could be back on their feet as soon as possible. Here, I think it is more accepted to take time to be sick, drink the herbal medicine, and wait it out. Versus being overly proactive/aggressive about healthcare and seeking serious medications at the first onset of a problem. Thoughts about this my fellow USA-ers?

Saltaka

23 mai 2011

Note: I'm going to preface this story by commenting that, the night before this event happened, I was bragging to Essaya about how I still haven't gotten sick.

We shall call this blog entry Saltaka. So four times a year, the Cameroonian government works alongside Unicef, WHO, etc to bring a grauity-weekend of vaccinations to all children 0-5 years of age. I helped out a bit last time they had the all-polio vaccination campaign. I went with two friends, Etienne and Yves, to the next town over, and while they dropped the liquid vaccine into kids mouths, I used a black marker on the kids' pinky fingers to mark that they had been vaccinated. This time, I helped Essaya with paperwork galore two days in a row. The first day, we were at the center. That is the greatest number of people I have ever seen there in one day. While Essaya vaccinated child after child (penta in the arm, BCG in the forearm, yellow fever and measles in the thighs, polio and vitamin A drops in the mouth, chew the mebendazole tablet to de-worm) I recorded all the information about the child in both our registry, their medical booklet, and the chart from the state. It was stressful but crazy and for, like the first time at the hospital since being here, I felt like I was truly needed and helping. The second day of the campaign: Saltaka.

So Essaya and I are supposed to head out from the center at 8 am...but we leave at 10 am. No big deal. Essaya picks me up from my house. I am wearing a nice long dress and head scarf because I want to make a good first impression on vaccination day, right? Nope. Essaya, for the first and most likely last time since this is a pretty conservative place, says to me "You should probably change into pants. We are going en brousse brousse". You don't have to ask me twice. I change into pants, a t-shirt and bandana. We have a cooler of vaccinations, needles, cotton, my backpack with our raincoats, the register book for the center, and extra medical booklets in case kids need them. We are loaded up on the motorcycle and ready to go. We head out on the normal goudron (paved road) but in the next village over, locate the secret path that leads us out en brousse. I had been out the road a bit before the first time, but where we go....no motorcycle should ever have to go. The rain has washed away nearly all the dirt that was once useful for traction, and we are scaling a huge mountain of easy-to-fall rocks. Half the time, I jump off the back of the motorcycle so Essaya can maneuver up the hills and steep turns. I run after/beside the motorcycle and hop back on when the road looks like it evens out for a bit. With each meter we climb in altitude, the climate changes a bit. When we reach the top of the mountain, I can't believe how different the climate is from what we left at the paved road. It is breath-taking up here. Everything everything is green and lush. We go down the other side of the mountain, and stumble upon the village. The trip has taken us over an hour. In the village, there are about ten houses that I can see. Everyone seems to be home because they all run out of their concessions and gather round the motorcycle. Nope, we're not in Saltaka, they say. This is Falingo. You've still got away to go before Saltaka. No worries. We vaccinate all the kids we can in Falingo, accept some red bananas (what never seen those before) as gifts and head out again. We drive for another twenty minutes or so on a windy dirt road that passes field after field of lush green vegetation and finally stumble upon Saltaka.

Saltaka is the Garden of Eden. I am not joking. Field after field of green as far as you can see. Cows in pastures. Healthy cows. Not the mangly gangly cows in my village down on the paved road. These cows are bigggg and their ribs aren't popping out. Farmers out in the fields, just beginning the planting for the year. There is the smell of spring and dirt and bananas everywhere. Papaya, mango and banana trees line the dirt road leading up to the chef's house. All of the houses on the dirt road are immaculate. How do these people have such nice homes living way out here en brousse when down on the main road the houses are falling apart? There is no trash anywhere. I'm pretty sure it's heaven on earth.
We arrive at the chef's house, and of course, get invited in for lunch, which is yummy couscous with mushroom sauce. The chef is a cute little old man who claims to be 102 (who knows, it could be true) and had three wives. After we eat some couscous, Essaya and I sit at his house and he has people bring out milk. Ok, I have not drank milk since...October. I didn't drink it in Niger because it can carry tuberculosis and a whole host of other creatures if it's not prepared properly and freshly. So the chef's first wife brings it out, and I'm like Essaya you don't understand I physically cannot drink this. I haven't had milk in Africa yet. He Just starts laughing, "Well you said you haven't gotten sick yet, right?" Point well taken. So Essaya and I share the cup of milk. And then someone brings out honey. Which is amazing. And we drink/eat it by the spoonful. Then the chef says in Fulfulde, "Because a beautiful woman has come here today, we are going to celebrate and drink a lot of milk". So someone brings out more hot milk. Essaya continues to laugh. I'm like dude you're the one of the motorcycle in front of me when I get sick. I drink the whole glass. And more milk. I'm like you have got to be joking......Then it's done. For now. The chef sends someone to round up all the kids in the village.
Two and half hours later, a ton of paperwork, and a huge headache (from the tuberculosis or the vaccinations I'm not sure), all the kids in Saltaka are vaccinated. The biggest observation I have about the kids there is that all of them appear so healthy. They are all clean, big and strong. None of them appear sick. Is this what happens when you live out in the middle of nowhere on a plateau and there is always fresh water and fresh milk and honey by the spoonful? Where do I sign up? I tell Essaya, after all the mamas and kiddos have left, that I want to come here and stay for awhile. The people here are all Fulbe; they only speak Fulfulde. Um, yes, this is where I need to come for two weeks to learn Fulfulde where there aren't three other languages for me to get confused with. Essaya says we can come back and visit to get to know them better and discuss that in the future. Ok. Fine.

Of course, before we head out, we take a tour of the Chef's house/ concession mansion. The houses are immaculate and huge and the people are wonderful (wife number two says when I visit again we can go and milk the cows um yes mi yidi mi yidi doodee i want to a lot). We sit down with the chef one more and drink....can you guess it?.....another huge glass of milk. "If you don't get sick after this", Essaya says, "you will never get sick here". We thank the chef and his whole family, load up the motorcycle and make the trek back up then down the mountain again. Best Day thus far in Cameroon and debatebly most beautiful place I've been in Africa to date. Saltaka, I will see you again soon.

P.S. I didn't get sick from the milk. At all. Something is wrong with me.

22 mai 2011
Some random thoughts and happenings:

-so there are a "trop" amount of scorpions here. Today, I was hanging out at Essaya's house and one of our friends arrived who got stung? pricked? what's the right word with a scorpion stinger? twice in the foot. The scorpion was just in his house. ps he lives legit thirty steps from my house. grand. And Essaya's son, Yves, got stung twice on the arm when sleeping one night. The scorpy had been chilling in his bed sheets. Essaya's advice to me: "Even though you have a mosquito net, check under the pillows every night before you go to bed because one could be hiding there". Naturally, I have taken his advice seriously and done this. But...what is going to happen on the eventful night when I look under the pillows and in the sheets and ACTUALLy do find a scorpy chillin there? I have worked out all sorts of scenarios in my head for how that night would go down...and I can't think of any that would be positive. There are the possible scenarios I have thought about:
1. i'm too freaked out to attempt in the killing of said creature and I secure my mosquito net and wait until morning when i can find a child to kill it. problem here: that involves me sleeping on the floor without a mosquito net...which is possibly more terrifying.
2. i attempt to kill scorpy. i freak out or miss target. he is stealth and jumps off of bed and goes under my bed and gets away. i go to sleep. problem with this scenario: scorpion is still alive in my homestead.
3. i attempt to kill scorpion...and, by some miracle, actually wound or kill it. problem: i have to remove the still-poisonous creature from my bed. it requires gasoline to detoxify the poison. i don't know how i feel about gas fumes when i'm sleeping.
4. the fourth, and most feared scenario, is that i attempt to kill the nasty bugger and get too close...and he stings me. which is extremely painful and i would need to get right to the hospital in the middle of the night for medication. the sting isn't deadly....except if it's a black scorpion. oh. ok. great.

-vingt mai (May 20th) marked the 50th anniversary of Cameroon's Independence. For the festivities, I went to Ngan'ha. Events of the day:
7 am Wait for Essaya on street to go to Ngan'ha
8 am We leave for Ngan'ha, take the motorcycle
9 am Arrive, get walked to our designated seats on the grandstand
11 am Event begins when sous-prefet arrives (The only equivalent I can think of for the sous-prefet in the US is a county senator, the link between the people and the government on a small scale)
11 am - 1:30 pm Event: National Anthem, speeches by important peeps, 4 people who have worked a lot for the state receive medals, Parade (elementary and high school students, political parties, groups and organizations of the district), traditional singing and dances.
1:30 - 2:30 pm: wait for afternoon prayer to be done
2:30 pm: huge wonderful buffet at the sous-prefet's house, lots of people there but laid back and enjoyable to see everyone from the Ngan'ha region
3:30 pm: Leave Ngan'ha
4:00 pm: Stop in random village along the road because rain is gettin' wild.
4:30 pm: Arrive back home, go to Essaya's house to watch the events on television and spend time with the fam. Eat so much couscous.
8:00 pm: Walk home with pup and visit my friend who lives just next to my house. Bon fete!
Overall, pretty good Indepedence Day celebrations. Got burned while waiting for the event to start, but it wouldn't be a 4th of July without that, right?

-So, I think I'm becoming one of those people who is obsessed with their pet. I used to be a huge judger of people who take unnecessary amounts of photos of their pets and dote on them and talk about every single thing they do. "Oh my goodness, Fufu did the funniest thing today. She was playing with the ball of yarn and then she fell a little bit. Oh, you had to be there, I just couldn't stop laughing!"....the truth is though, that I have become one of those people. I didn't realize this though, until I was looking through photos on my camera from last month and, realized, that like a quarter of them are of Ashia. What can I say? She is just so darn photogenic. So, to all those people that I judged in my past life about being too in love with their pets, I would just like to say....I apologize. Pets are people, too. And Ashia, she is my bff.

-It's gardening time. My friend, Etienne, and I have begun a gardening project in my backyard. And by we...I mean he. Like I have no idea what I'm doing. But he knows what's up and so far it is going well. I have been taking pics of the progress. This week we are going to officially plant: tomatoes, onions, carrots, legumes (which are a variety of leafy greens used in sauces), condiments (black pepper, spicy stuff called peedmont peadmont peatmont? not quite sure the spelling there and green spices) and potatoes. The rainy season here is so long that someone told me I can plant twice or three times. Sa-weet. Hello yummy veggies.

-"Work" at the hospital has been good. I put work in " " these thingies because I don't do very much. Every Tuesday, I do an animation with the women who come with their babies for vaccinations. Other than that though, it's a lot of observing consultations and greeting people. The staff seems grateful for my "help" there, and even though I don't think I'm doing a lot, maybe just being present and being friendly with patients is what matters...
　
　

Happy belated Easter everyone :)

Hope you all are doing well! Happy belated Easter and happy spring! Indeed, spring has sprung here in the Adamawa region of Cameroun. It is the season of rain :( but also mangoes, mushrooms, and green green everywhere. Mangoes are delicious. I had no idea there were so many varieties of mangoes, ones that are big and tarty, others that are little and sweet. My goal next week is to attempt jam, I'm pumped. I've been cooking quite a bit more, learning how to make the local sauces and "couscous". My friend Etienne recently built a shade hangar in the front yard so I'll start cooking outside with a fire just like the ladies here do!

Puppy is doing great. The town vet and I gave her an anti-rage (rabies) shot this week as well as a special-medicine bath to get rid of ticks and fleas. Which just jumped off of her onto me......but seriously...it was just one tick on my knee, it's gone now.

Etienne and I are going to start a garden in my backyard this week. The soil and climate here are ideal for gardening of all sorts, things that no one has planted have already started to sprout near my house.

This is the last week of teaching English for the year. The students are taking their national exams and will be on summer vacation very soon. School will begin again in September.

Hospital is still good, more and more patients every month. I did my first animation last Tuesday during the vaccination clinic for babies. It went well. I explained all the various vaccines (what diseases they prevent, what months the babies should get them) in French, and a nurse translated into Dii for me. I will be doing that every Tuesday from now on, and will switch up the animation every few months with new material about maternal health, nutrition, etc.

Uploading photos is so much faster on facebook. Check out the album:
Facebook Album of Cameroon photos

And there is always these photos from before:
Picasaweb Album Cameroon

I don't plan on having internet again until June-ish. Happy end of the school year to everyone!! Twalk to ya soon. Love ya and leave ya :)

14 avril 2011

Run with the pup this morning. We get a little bit farther every day. As we're strolling back, I see a little naked boy ahead in the road walking away from us. Ashia slowly walks up behind him...and I can tell already that this is not going to be good. She is the same height as the boy and he turns towards her when she reaches him. The boy screams and starts running away. Ashia thinks he's playing so she runs after him. So he screams more and runs faster. I yell "kay! kay! no! no!" to Ashia and call her towards me, but she's still chasing after boy. Naked boy trips and falls and gets dirt all over himself. Ashia jumps over him and continues to run around. I'm still yelling "kay! kay". I approach the boy to pick him up. He sees me and starts screaming more. He doesn't seem to know what he's terrified of more- puppy or large white person. He picks himself up and runs even faster away. Trips again. Dust all over himself again. By this time, there is a crowd of children laughing and watching. A woman, most likely the boy's mother, shows up to collect her dust child. She's laughing. "Desole, sorry", I keep saying. Ashia and I walk home. Morale of the story: I need to learn the word for desole in fulfulde and dii.

I told Essaya today that I want to get sick. Knock on wood, I've been in this country nearly two months, and the inevitable has not yet occurred. The first time getting sick is always the first, so I just want it to hurry up and happen now before I get going with teaching and health projects. Essaya said he thinks it's possible for me to not get sick for the two years. That would be a miracle. Ashia ate a dead mouse yesterday. And cow poop. And I pet her everyday. As I said, it would be a miracle, possibly even weird, if I don't get sick.

So I'm good friends with one family in my neighborhood. But one of the girls in the family is always asking me for things. Which is fine; I am used to this. But today she asked me for food three times. Like no. You guys have more food in your house than I do. You are not starving. Stop asking me for eggs just because you see that I am giving them to my dog. So tonight, during time #3 of asking me for eggs, I asked her why she always asks me for things. And I told her that it really isn't ok, and that I have never asked her for anything so why does she think it's okay to do that to me? And she said it is because I have everything....and then papa bear came home so we stopped chatting about it for awhile. And after he left, she said that when she asks for things, she is just joking. Do I have everything? Ok, maybe I have a motorcycle helmet, a cool pair of pants, a bike, and a stove. But I don't have a family here. Or a group of friends like she has. Or food that I grew during the rainy season. Or the knowledge of life here and the language. I may have more material things, but I do not have every "thing".

Some fun stats
Song stuck in my head: DJ caught us falling in love again - Usher
Number of students in my first English class: 15
Number of students on list supposedly to be in the English class: 61
Fresh mangoes eaten out en brousse today: 3
Number of cockroaches killed today: 0
Eggs eaten by Ashia and I in the last 48 hours: 8

first big rain of the year :)

17 avril 2011
So something happened today...and it made me take a step back. Essaya and I left their family house after we'd eaten lunch in the early afternoon to talk to someone in town about an upcoming event, and we moto-ed back two hours later. During that time, Essaya's daughter, Josephine made some croquettes (the amazzzing little biscuits that I purchase daily from Rose). Essaya's son, Moussa (who happens to be left-handed just like me, he's the only one in the fam who is, obvi we're buds) was helping Josephine. She gave him a pot of boiling oil to bring into the house. He tripped on the stairs into the house and the oil spilled on the left side of his face. It looked really awful. His eye wasn't burnt, but was swollen shut and the whole side of his face was white from where the skin has fallen off. Essaya and Rose were upset with Josephine and yelling at her because she had given him the scalding oil to carry. I asked Rose if we could take him into the city for a skin graft. She laughed. It wasn't bad enough for that.
I was talking with Essaya the following day as we were examining the wound. They had put betadine and honey on it. Essaya said "isn't that awful....that Josephine". I told him it's just too bad because his life was changed yesterday. He will have scars on his face for the rest of his life. "Really? He will have marks for always", Essaya asked me. Of course, I said. He is still growing and the skin on his face is very fragile.

Later, I was thinking about Moussa. During the two hours that Essaya and I were gone for a meeting, his life changed. A physical change that will be with him for his entire life. Something that everyone will see. But what about the changes that happen to us that we don't necessarily see? With a scar, it is easy to identify the cause and pain behind it. But what about emotional changes that stay with us that aren't apparent to everyone else? On January 12th, I received a call from the Peace Corps Niger bureau telling me to pack up my bags and be in my regional capital the following day; because I was being evacuated from the country. Since that day, so much has happened. So much has changed. But yet, where are my scars from this life-altering event? I am still healing from the transition, but only I know the change and only I can feel the scar from this change in my life.

Ashia and I went on a nice long walk this past Saturday afternoon. We went out on the path the farthest I've been so far. On the walk back, we passed some beautiful mango trees. I'd seen kids climb them before, so I thought why not? When is the last time I have climbed a tree? It was crazy difficult but so worth it. I was a little freaked out too because the last time I tried to climb a mango tree, a spider crawled on me, and I was like heckkkk no to that. But I just told myself to come to terms with the fact that a spider will crawl on me and that I'll just have to deal with it. So I got up into the tree after three attempts or so (one with sneakers, one with just socks, barefeet, then back to sneaks), and maneuvered my way through the branches. A mango tree is very deceiving because, from the outside, there is more fruit than the eye can take in. But once in the interior of the tree, it is difficult to tell with all the leaves exactly where the fruit is hiding. But I found some. And almost fell out of the tree. They don't call it forbidden fruit for nothing, right? It's fine though, just a few scratches. I jumped down and stuffed my pockets with the juicy fruit that I'd thrown to the ground. When I was picking up the fruit, I noticed a tiny spidey on my arm :). Then pup and I walked on home.

Sunset in village

 

12 avril 2011

So today is Tuesday, but this past Saturday, Essaya and I went to G'obri, a small village about an hour up the road. A fair number of people from this village travel to our health center, and a few weeks back, a woman named Hadidja (that's my name here too, saaaweet) invited us to come out some Saturday. Hadidja and all her friends in G'obri and beyond are Mbororo (def not spelling that right, but that's how it's pronounced). On a post blog I posted, I said how Essaya and I traveled to help a Fulfulde woman give birth out in a field somewhere. Ya, no. I was wrong. She was Mbororo. Their local language is Yako, but they all speak Fulfulde. Apparently it's a different variation of Fulfulde? Who knew? I can't tell the difference yet between Fulfulde and Dii, much the less dialects of Fulfulde.

Ok, so we moto-on out to the village. The market is decent-sized actually despite G'obri being such a small town. It is a large market because the Mbororo are cattle people and bring in their cows/goats/sheep to sell weekly. Mbororo are typically nomadic, so they follow their cattle wherever they go, but pockets of them here in the Adamawa region of Cameroon have settled down and maintained permanent residence. Ok, so we show up at the market and we quickly spot our Mbororo friends. Their attire and appearance is very different from the Dii peeps here.

Attire for men: plastic sneaker shoes (difficult to describe, they look like Nike/Adidas sneakers, except that they are plastic), pants and long shirt of same fabric, HAT, huge sword, plastic water bottle on piece of string.
Attire for women: plastic flats (similar idea to sneakers, but more lady-like), panya skirt of one fabric, panya/soft fabric shirt of another design, flower/bird print scarf tied around head, lots and lots of beaded necklaces.
Oh...and they all have tattoos on their faces. In various amazing designs. So we find our peeps and we're looking for Hadidja. But apparently she's over at the cattle auction. Ok, so we walk over to the cattle auction, which was just closing but we could get the general idea. Tons of animals. Sheep. Cows and more cows. Goats. A full-grown cow goes for 300,000 FCFA ($600) and a baby goat goes for about 20,000 ($40). Essaya and I ate some yummy meat (stand set up right next to auction, obvi) and found Hadidja. She was so pumped to see us, and told me that the Saturday before, she came all the way to my village to bring me a chicken. But I wasn't there...because I was at IST...boo. She said she felt ashamed because she didn't bring the chicken with her to the market because she didn't know we were coming. And she was embarassed that she didn't prepare any food or things to give us. We told her it was fine, and that we will come back and visit another time at her house (yaaaaaaa).

Then we walked back to the market and while Essaya fixed his moto, I chilled with the Mbororo ladies. I don't speak Fulfulde. It was interesting. They kept asking me about my freckles and touching them. I said "they're from the soleil/sun", ya. no. Soleil is not fulfulde. Oh well. Then Essaya and I headed back. I'm so pumped to visit them again. Essaya told them that I want to learn about their traditional medicines...and pretty much be them. It's fine.

Some random thoughts I had today:
-if a vaccine for malaria is ever developed and can be mass-produced, hospitals here will go out of business
-wasn't alone for a single minute of today. Children at my house this morning and all night. A bit annoying. What percentage of the day are Americans alone?
-crazy dream last night about war/apocalypse/cous-cous. mefloquine does crazy things.
-I'll think I'll go on an all-day hike with puppy this Saturday

The Story of Ashia: my puppy and bestest friend

Sooooo I've been eyeing these three pups for sometime now, and, with the help of my nurse friend, Asta, we asked the owner if I could have one. He said I could take it at any time. So when I got back from IST, I stopped over and was given a little girl puppy.

Day 1- carried her from old house to new home, got strange looks from every person I passed, arrived at house, puppy ran away, got help and chased her down, someone helped me tie a rope around her neck and attach her to my house, she wouldn't eat the food I gave her and cried all night long. Puppy: worst decision 2011.

Day 2- puppy is frightened to death of me, tied herself in knots overnight with the rope leash. I went to the health center in the morning, and when I returned, there were four other knots in the rope where she had chewed threw, run away, someone had chased her, and re-tied her to my house. I gave her some milk.

Day 3- Untied leash and took her for a walk. She hesitantly walked behind me. She likes it when I pet her, it probably feels good with all the flea bites.

Day 4- Gave her milk, meat...and a bath. Bath was surprisingly ok. Went on another walk. Used tweezers to pull a tick off her eyebrow. Lit tick on fire with match. Success.

Today- went for a morning walk at 5:30am and an afternoon one at 4:30pm. In the morning we ran a little bit. Gave her a bath and fed her fish for breakfast, couscous for lunch and meat for dinner. We are besties. Puppy: best decision 2011.

The only thing that deranges (disturbs) me about the puppy is when people tell me what to do with her. Like that I shouldn't give her a bath because she'll get sick. But then when I'm giving her a bath and they are watching me, they tell me how to bathe her. No. You don't know. You don't wash your dog, how would you know how it's done? Or when they tell me what I should and shouldn't give her for food. And when she's hungry. Dude, people, you don't even feed your dog. Don't tell me she's not going to like rice. Your dog doesn't even know what rice is because it only eats trash. Everything else about little Ashia is wonderful. Except she has fleas and ear mites. We're working on it.
   
So people are petrified of her. I've watched children when she's around and the only thing I can compare their reactions to is what I do when I see a...cockroach or scorpion. If Ashia playfully runs towards them, they scream, and run as fast as possible in the opposite direction. I guess she makes a good guard dog in the sense that children have been conditioned to run away from dogs. It's just sad though when children start crying just because a nice little puppy comes near them. Or maybe they cry because they're scared of me. Ya....we make a pretty good team.