Sylvia's Journal

My attendance at the GHC conference was very short. Everything was just warming up when I left. Still I got to listen to some very creative and inspiring speakers who use various internet and mobile technologies to promote or protect health. This is how I learned that of South Africa’s 45 million people 43 million have access to a mobile phone. I also heard the terribly sad story about how mothers in Nigeria who bought teething syrup laced with anti-freeze fluid unwittingly killed their babies. On the other hand, amazingly creative experiments are going on in Ghana to outsmart the makers and sellers of drugs that either don’t work or that kill. Listening to these stories makes you realize that we have, collectively, the ingenuity to constantly outsmart each other, for good and for evil.

The best part of the conference is the exhibit hall. If you like candy, pens, stress balls, pins you can stuff your pockets full, with or without listening to sales pitches. Some connections with global health are tenuous – there are travel agents and Toyota land cruiser salesmen.

The Gapminder people were there with their amazing displays of world population data. They demonstrated an electronic table top game that tested your demographic data knowledge for the countries of the world as if you were playing blackjack or poker, with chips and all.

But the best exhibit was from the condom people who took up an entire wall. There was a lube tasting bar, condom pin making, an informative video about condom making and testing (like filling them up with 32 liters of water – why that much, one wonders) – a manikin dressed in an outfit entirely made up of condoms, African cloth baggies to hide your condoms in and more. The playfulness is exactly what they want as total strangers strike up conversations about topics that are usually taboo. The money for these displays and this creativity comes from the UN, not the US government – not a surprise.

I arrived early at the airport. My taxi driver came from Ethiopia but seemed not very eager to talk about his country that I am to visit soon. He left 24 years ago when it was not such a nice place. At the airport I was served my order of pretzels by other Ethiopians, recent émigrés who were more enthusiastic about their country. The cost of a few pretzel sticks, a mustard dip and a pint of water would have provided an entire feast for countless people in their homeland.

I was early enough to catch the 3:30 flight but, despite my 425 dollar ticket I was not allowed on unless I paid a penalty for 50 dollars – which I stubbornly refused ‘out of principle’ only to punish myself with a considerably longer wait at the busy airport.

I arrived home to find the entire family, including Sita and Jim around the table and everyone commenting on the bug Sita had brought home from her travels. Since she looked a bit wilted we looked ORS up on Google and prepared the proven practice of home-made oral rehydration solution for her. Just before going to bed we watched a documentary about the Taliban nightmare in Pakistan; not surprisingly it produced some bad dreams.