Sylvia's Journal

This morning we went to the Cascades de Man. It is the touristic attraction of the region. People go here just for the waterfalls. It is the end of the dry season and so the waterfalls were not as spectacular as they are during the rainy season, but nice enough. The road there and the waterfall ‘amenagements’ as the French call it have added an element of ugliness to what is otherwise beautiful mother nature. The road to the entrance, where the ticket man sits, is hardly navigable in the current dry season. I can imagine that during mud season only 4×4 can get there, and not easily.

Once in the area of the waterfalls the tourists are helped by a steep set of uneven steps and a railing. That was helpful. Once down in the waterfall valley large slabs of concrete and preformed benches and platforms have been put in place willy-nilly without any sense of esthetics. They are practical as you don’t have to jump across rocks but also an eyesore. A small mildewed pavilion puts the finishing touches on the “amenagement.” It is run down, fungus on the walls, garbage – it will be fixed the guide told us. He is not paid by the ministry of tourism and lives on tips. I wondered whether the man who collected our entry fee (200 CFA which is less than 50 cents) is an employee or also a volunteer, and if the latter, whether he can keep the change.

There is a bridge made from vines that the villagers made in order to cross the cascades. It is in rather poor repair and fortified with man-made ropes. Our guide showed off, walking a few meters onto the bridge, saying that we probably couldn’t do it but he was and experienced guide. “Huh,” I puffed, “I can do this,” and we were all allowed to take a few steps on the wobbly rope bridge. Clearly, there are no lawyers here who make the rules. It is not that difficult when one has no baggage but I was wondering about women having kids on their backs and wares on their heads when a deadly force races by several meters below.

We returned to the concrete slabs and made our way to the big cascade. A large pool in front served as a self-cleaning swimming pool. Two small boys in their underwear were having a great time. Higher up the cascade formed a series of plateaus, nooks and crannies which enticed many adults to partially disrobe and take a shower while posing for their friends.

There is a steep path to the top of the cascade which we declined to take – our shoes were the wrong footwear and it was too hot. We also declined the two hour walk up to the ‘dents de Man,’ two large boulders that could have been the teeth of a giant.

On our return we went back to La Paille, the Senegalese restaurant where we are taking all our meals outside work hours. Today the waitress was rather sullen, eating a banana in a rather seductive way while taking orders. It looked as if taking an order was a tremendous effort on her part, as if she’d rather had the customers go away.  But she had an amazing hairdo and I was allowed to take a picture. It is the only smile she gave us.

I ordered again a Cieboudien (also affectionately called a Tjep), Senegal’s famous rice and fish dish, but with chicken. That was a mistakes as the chicken must have been of the elderly kind – little meat and sinewy.

Back in the hotel we went to check out the conference room and found the trainers of a workshop that had just finished. The topic, according to the banner with logos of the International Rescue Committee, the French, the EU and the Ministry of Health indicated that the workshop had been on the “Renforcement du système de santé.”  Interesting, I though, we are doing the same, but we are doing it with American money; and as I have learned along the way, usually the French and American development aid groups work in parallel without much contact and sometimes even in direct competition.

Here we are, working on intersectoral coordination when coordination within the health sector is hardly happening.  We ended up chatting with the organizers and discovered that they had been training midwives in safe motherhood and delivery practices. That too counts as health systems strengthening (everything counts as health systems strengthening – abbreviated as HSS- these days). The representative of the International rescue Committee mentioned she was not invited to our event so we quickly extended an invitation as she is clearly another critical player in the HSS dance.