High-Fives and Tambourines

As part of our health sector training, we had a baby-weighing practicum this past Saturday. The purpose of baby weighing is to ensure that babies in the community are receiving adequate nutrition and allows mothers and health professionals to chart the progress of a baby. One of the roles of a health volunteer is to detect and counteract malnutrition via education and awareness. Malnutrition is a huge problem here and is one of the leading causes of infant mortality.

While the description above may make the practicum sound technical and dry, I can promise you, it was anything but. We arrived in the designated village at about 9:00 a.m. and clambered out of the overloaded bus/glorified van with grace comparable to a gaggle of Hell’s Angels. A few volunteers rushed to nearby bushes to relieve their back-of-the-bus car sickness, while the rest of us attempted to wipe the sweat and dust from our faces in an attempt to appear at least moderately presentable. We had arrived.

We were led into a straw-thatched roof structure with a dirt floor and a concrete half-wall where two scales were hanging from log-support beams. People quickly gathered around us and women with their babies slowly filtered in. Once the hut was full, a woman who appeared to be running the show, handed out make-shift tambourines that were ceramic plates with metal rings pierced around the edges, to all of the women in the hut, volunteers included. She set the beat, and we followed. A simple 1-2-3-pause-1-2-3-pause, to start; once it was apparent that we were able to handle the beat, she began to sing, leading the other women of the village to join in chorus at certain points. Within moments, we became a one-hut band. She suddenly quickened the rhythm of the tambourines and then the dancing began. A few of the women danced in a traditional Beninese style that I have seen in music videos and on the streets in which women move their shoulders back and forth quickly, in unison, hands are slightly open and allowed to follow where the shoulders lead, while slightly bent at the hips. This continued for about 10 minutes while we all watched and just tried to take in the rich culture of which we were suddenly a part. After that song concluded, another began. Round two. Following the second song, one of our facilitators explained to us that in the future, it is very important to dance with them because it makes the women more comfortable with you and establishes rapport; even if you do not know how to dance, you are expected to stand up and ask someone to teach you. A little embarrassed that I thought they were simply dancing for us as a form of welcome, I nodded and readied myself for the next dance party.

After the initial songs and dancing were over, the baby weighing began. The first baby I weighed was fat and healthy – excellent. A vital component to the success of this baby weighing activity is the interaction with the mother. If their child is healthy, it is important to congratulate the mother and tell her she is doing a great job, then inquire as to what she feeds her child. The benefits are three-fold: one, you may learn something; two, with other women present who may have babies that are not as healthy, they may learn from one another; and three, you are acting as a source of positive reinforcement to encourage further healthy habits. If a baby is underweight and falls into the malnourished category, the conversation with the mother is equally important. Again, you investigate their feeding habits and make suggestions, as well as make an at-home visit at a later point.

The baby weighing seemed chaotic with crying babies, naked babies, peeing babies, women talking, kids hanging over the concrete wall watching to see what we would do next, and in the midst of all this, attempting to talk nutrition in broken French. While we waited for everyone to finish, some of us played with the kids in the village. And when I say “played,” I mainly mean give an excessive number of high-fives. They LOVE high-fives – they were going crazy. We were called back to the hut for the closing of the baby weighing session and the mob of children moved with us. The high-fives did not cease, either. I sat on a bench with both of my hands up, smiling, as they just slapped my hands excitedly, laughing, and it became apparent that their enthusiasm was not going to be exhausted any time soon. It was hysterical, at one point I almost fell off the bench from the force of the excited high-fivers. The woman who had led the music earlier reappeared and initiated another energetic song. This time, I was ready. We all were. We got up and danced as our facilitator showed us how to perform traditional Beninese dance. The kids were jumping up and down shrieking at the sight of us dancing, while the women with babies on their laps laughed and sang along. This was a day at work.

We thanked the women and the community then piled back into the purely functional white van and drove out of the village with the children running behind us, waving wildly and shouting farewells.

This experience made me even more excited to get to my post and begin my work here in Benin. And… to dance.