October 2005

October 2, 2005

I made friends with a Nigerien man who owns a motorcycle parts store in the market. Inside his shop he has a television with a satellite dish. He allows me to watch the BBC new with him. He speaks English and it is nice to hear. We also watch various soccer games from around the world. 

He took me to Church today. The church is a small building on the outskirts of town. The priest comes from 120 kilometers away each Sunday. Unfortunately, he was unable to make it this Sunday. Never the less, forty of fifty people (mostly Nigerians) gathered together and had a (kind of) mass. Since there was no Eucharist, all parts leading up to the consecration were omitted but everything else was the same. There was a Homily in English follow by one in French. From then on the rest of the mass was in French, except for some responses which were in Latin. Some of the songs were in Latin as well. The mass featured a lot of singing and utilized drums and other procession instruments. 

After the mass there were announcements in French (one of them was actually in broken English and I still didn�t understand it!). I had to introduce myself to everyone �since it was a small group and I obviously stood out. Unfortunately my ride had to leave after mass so I didn�t get to greet too many people. Even without the Eucharist the mass took an hour and a half. Hopefully, this Sunday the priest will be there and I will get a chance to meet more people afterwards. 

October 4, 2005

Ramadan began today- or it begins tomorrow-no one is in agreement. This country is a bit hard to figure out exactly what is occurring and when. School started on Monday, but that only meant that the teachers reported to find out where they will be teaching this year- the teachers rotate between schools in my town and the surrounding villages each year. The students could show up if they wanted to, but very few did. I am told classes begin this Monday. Hopefully this time it means what I assume it means. 

For Ramadan, all healthy Muslims must abstain from eating, drinking, and leisure activities during daylight hours. It is extremely difficult, especially in the Nigerien heat. Many people are fatigued and some even get sick. At the inspection people were falling asleep at their desks. There is much less prepared food on the streets during the day. I have been making myself pasta for breakfast and peanut butter, banana and honey sandwiches for lunch. For dinner I go to a friend�s house and sometimes I even eat a second dinner later in the night. I try not to eat or drink in front of everyone. They all ask me how fasting is going. At first I tried to explain when Christians fast, but it was lost in translation. I decided to tell them all I tried it for one day, felt sick and stopped and that it isn�t easy and I don�t have the strength. They seem to accept my reasons for being different better here when I turn them into jokes. Humor is very strong in this culture-it is essential for survival. 

October 8, 2005

Today was a very busy day. I was invited to a naming ceremony by the chauffer at the inspection. His wife had given birth to twins a week ago. In Niger, it is custom to wait seven days before having a ceremony where the babies receive their names. The main part of the ceremony is the sacrifice of a goat during which the baby�s name is uttered for the first time. Since it was twins, two goats were sacrificed. The ceremony always occurs at 7:30 in the morning. The time is widely known so it is not listed on the invitation (I learned that this is one event that starts on time as I showed up late and missed the sacrifice). The traditional gift to give is soap. After the sacrifice everyone sits around and socialized. There was a man who pantomimed silly gestures for money. He served as the entertainment. I didn�t get most of his joke. The one I was able to understand was that he had three kids. If he didn�t get paid they would starve and he would be sad. I only stayed a half hour-most people were coming and going. There weren�t as many people as I expected- maybe most of them showed up early and left before I arrived. I also didn�t figure out when the goats are eaten. Since it is Ramadan I�m sure these ones weren�t eaten until sun down. I am here for two years and Nigeriens like having children, so I will become an expert on naming ceremonies. 

Afterwards I took a boat across the river to Benin. The boat was an oversized canoe that must have held twenty or thirty people. My friend and I were stopped at the border, despite having valid papers; we were forced to pay a bribe to enter. The town did not seem much different than the Nigerien one I am staying in. It was definitely much bigger and the prices at the market were cheaper. I noticed that when initially greeting someone French was used rather than the Arabic �Assalama Laikum� said in Niger. There was also alcohol for sale in each store-something no store carries in Niger. Benin is a predominantly Christian nation causing the differences. My quest to purchase oatmeal was fruitless, but I found other foods that I couldn�t find in Niger outside of Niamey. I also found an internet caf� that I will have to take advantage of in the future. The boat ride back was an experience. The boat was transporting oranges and some kind of grains so we had to sit upon large sacks of imported goods. One of the other passengers lost his shoe in the water and another boat had to retrieve it. When we arrived the woman who owned the sacks discovered one of the boat workers was eating her oranges along the way. She was furious. They try to charge me a higher price because they think I�m a foreigner that doesn�t know any better, but at least I knew enough not to eat someone else�s oranges or lose my shoes!

October 13, 2005

A few nights ago I was lost in dreamland when I heard a drum beat. The banging grew louder and faster as the drummer gradually made his way towards me. I awoke to realize I was not dreaming. The drumbeats rose in volume until the sound echoed through the room. Still groggy, I had no clue where I was. The only thing I knew for certain was the mysterious musician was stopped immediately outside of whatever place I was sleeping in. I must admit I was pretty startled at this point; my heart was beating almost as quickly as the drum. All of a sudden I heard a booming voice call out in a strange tongue, words I did not understand rang through my room, but my mind was set at ease. These foreign phases have become very familiar to me; they makeup the Morning Prayer call. I realized I was in my own bed, in my own house, in Niger. The drummer was unintentionally standing in front of my house. He crossed the city to reach the mosque next door. 

Aside from that 5:30 a.m. excitement, things are going well as I adapt to my surroundings. The newest inconvenience for me is that my lights don�t work too well from 8-10 p.m. (ironically the only time I need them, since I am usually about town before eight and asleep after ten. The electricity works during this time, but the power is reduced, thus causing my florescent lights to flicker. I have grown accustom to showering by these strobe lights. I will have to find another time to write journal entries though, instead of immediately before bed. I think there is more of a drain on the system now because of Ramadan. It seems more people are using refrigerators. Hopefully this is the case and it ends in November.

Ramadan had no effect on me today as the director of all the volunteers in Niger paid a surprise visit to me. His wife came as well and I was even happier to see her. She is perhaps the best chef in Niger. I had a delicious lunch consisting of three serving of beef stew with homemade banana bread and cookies imported from America for desert. 

A few nights later I was sitting outside with some friends when a group of kids came over to us. One played a drum while another chanted. A third boy with white stones tied around his chest danced. He was bent forward at almost a ninety-degree angle causing the stones to clank together. We gave them some money and the continued on to the next house. Two girls then came out of my friend�s house. On banged a pot with a stick while the other stomped about hunched over-mimicking the act we just saw. The children here are very entertaining to watch.

October 15, 2005

I have been waiting patiently to tour the schools in the area. I think I have been told it will happen. First I waited two weeks for school to begin, then another week for classes to start. I am not sure if it is because of translation problems or because the inspection office dealing with only primary schools, but I realized I was not getting a tour anytime soon.

I took it upon myself to head out to the lycee (high school). Of course I got lost and ended up at the ecole privee, a private school. I showed up unannounced, but they did not see surprised to see me. I met a few people; including the director before realizing I was in the wrong place. I had planned on meeting with them eventually and they were very receptive so it was a productive trip.

On Thursday I finally made it to the lycee. The director is a former English teacher who studied for a bit in Buffalo, New York. I met with the head English teacher who was equally as nice. I was hoping to visit the nearby college (middle school, confusing, I know) but I was directed to the polytechnical school. I met the founder, director, and teacher there. They expressed a need for someone to help them with computers. It was incredibly confusing talking with them (even though the teacher spoke English). They said they had no money for another teacher but offered to pay me. They said classes were postponed for Ramadan, but students were learning. I tried to tell them I would be willing to share my knowledge of computers with the teacher, but I know they didn�t understand. We did agree to work together and I told them I would come back next week. I have no clue what to expect when I show up though. 

On Friday I went to the other college where I had been twice before. The director pleaded with me again for money for books and desks. He told me this time that I should give him something because then every other school would hear I did. I though this was the main reason not to because then every other school would line up at my door wondering where their gifts are. I asked him about the school funding organization. He responded that they have money but are too corrupt and siphon money from the budget for themselves. I am not here to give handouts, especially if they actually do have the resources to get the supplies but are misusing them. I will definitely explore the issue further as I develop more language skills and make more contacts in the community. After all that is all I am capable of doing right now. 

October 17, 2005

Mon Dieu! I am in Africa. In traveling to the inspections office, the large middle school, the high school, and two private schools I did not feel like I was in a different country. Although the school grounds are slightly different-they are compounds of buildings each containing one classroom, instead of the single large building I am familiar with in the States. However, I saw this as a result of the high temperature and lack of rain. But my perceptions of a Nigerien school changed when I found my way to the smaller middle school today. 

I had been trying to locate the school for two weeks now with no success. And for good reason. It is normally difficult here to find places-there are no street names and every dirt road looks the same-but this school proved especially tough. I finally found the right road and took it until the end. Not seeing any buildings I began asking people for directions. A young girl decided to show me the way. We immediately entered a millet field. I could not see much since the stalks had grown to be seven feet high. I just followed my guide closely. Eventually we emerged at a clearing, only to find another field. Finally I came upon another opening. Here was a tall tree, under which sat a chalkboard and several teachers. They welcomed me to their school.

The look of confusion probably asked my question for me, but I managed to inquire in French where the classrooms were. One of the teachers took me through the millet to another opening. Here stood one building consisting of a wooden frame supporting millet stalk walls and roof. Men had begun assembling the frames for four other similar rooms. It seems as the harvest continued, the cleared field was used as the school grounds. The stalks remaining once the food was removed served as the building supplies, while the other schools had already begun. Surely it will be a while before this one is ready. And I assume it must end earlier than most in order for the crops to be planted next year. Throughout the tour I was grateful to be wearing shoes and socks, as I am sure the land was covered with snakes (luckily I didn�t see any!)

Relieved I finally learned of its location, I promised to return to the school to check on the progress of the construction.

October 20, 2005

I returned home yesterday evening to find I had a fever. It was too late to go anywhere. I made sure I had plenty of fluids, took some ibuprofen, placed a cool rag on my head and laid down for what was to be a long night. Though I never recall falling asleep once, I remember I woke up quite frequently because of the fever and an upset stomach. One time I thought I checked my watch, but when I awoke the next time it was a half hour earlier! Obviously I cannot write with any accuracy of what really happened during that night.

This morning the fever subsided and I went to the local hospital. I arrived about 9 a.m. The sign out front read the morning hours had ended at 8:30 and the afternoon hours would begin at 12. However, the guard let me in (and many other people kept trickling in afterwards, so I do not know what the posted hours were for). Like everything else here, the hospital consisted of several one-room buildings. I randomly chose one to go in and luckily it was the right one. Even more fortunate, the receptionist was incredibly friendly. I explained to her in French what was wrong (as a result of this experience I learned a lot of medical terms in French.) I wanted to be tested for intestinal parasites. She created a paper for me and told me to go to the laboratory. Somehow I found it on the first try.

There I re-explain everything and gave them what I wanted tested. They proceeded to prick my finger and prepare a malaria slide. I did not want a malaria test here. I had no symptoms of malaria. Also I have heard from other volunteers that this hospital was excellent for diagnosing gastrointestinal illnesses, but horrible at an accurate malaria diagnosis. I did not know how to turn them down though. They then sent me off with the paper. Fortune was again on my side as a man came over to me. He apologized and took my paper. I realized he was the bill collector so I paid him and headed back to the lab.

As expected I was told I had malaria. I tried to ask them about my intestines, but they only answered malaria. They gave me a form but I couldn�t read a word because of the handwriting (not the language- I guess doctors everywhere write the same.) I got them on the phone with my doctor in Niamey. He then told me what was wrong and which medication to take. The disease was exactly what I thought it was, had before, and is most common in Niger. The medication was readily available and worked instantly.

October 21, 2005

I must have slept about 18 hours yesterday, but it was well worth it as I have full heath now. Being sick is never a fun experience. It is even more miserable being ill in a foreign land where the conditions are difficult with health.

Since I recovered fully I decided to carry out my one-day trip to the Bush. I was forced to cut back the hours though, since I needed to first travel around town and let people know I was better. I also had to go into the inspection office to make up for the missed day. 

I took a motorcycle taxi out to the Bush at noon. The volunteer there was glad to see me, as I came bearing food from the �big city�. It is hard to find food during the sunlight hours in the city during Ramadan. It is impossible in the Bush. Earlier this morning there was some excitement here. The villagers promised to build a shade hanger eight moths ago. Now that harvest season is a month old the materials have been readily available for sometime. They almost began the project today before deciding to postpone it. Tempers flared, exaggerated by everyone being hungry and fatigued. Ultimatums were given and quickly the frame for the hanger was in place. I was happy to have missed the heated beginning, it was nice to see them working when I arrived. They ended up having way too much wood (apparently the main reason for the disagreement was there was not enough wood). 

I was hoping to see classes at a Bush school. However the head teacher had another commitment in the afternoon so the three-teacher school was cancelled for the day. He was there in the morning with all the students cultivating the land. They want to plant a garden. The process will teach the kids about farming and nutrition. They hope to sell the vegetables at the market to raise money for the school and to sustain the project next year.

Before leaving I was able to see another village fund raiser- the crocodile pit. The village purchased two baby reptiles, which they are raising in hopes to sell for a large profit. Apparently crocodile meat is a delicacy over here. I also had a chance to eat dinner at a local�s house. It was a good meal, but the mosquitoes were unbearable. I was bitten several times through my pants and once through my two shirts. I�m glad I live in the city away from the swarm of insects. 

October 31, 2005

I spent nearly forty straight days in my village. I decided to reward myself on Thursday with a little break from Nigerien life. I found a quick and comfortable ride to Dosso, the regional capital. There I stayed in an American house. I was able to use a computer (unfortunately there was no internet). The bulk of the day was spent lounging on a couch watching movies. For dinner I ate homemade pizza prepared with homemade cheese. It was someone�s birthday so we had a chocolate sponge cake with vanilla icing. And we sang happy birthday (in English).

Curious to see other new volunteers, I took a bus to the next town with an American house- Birni Konni. The town was very similar to the one I am currently resided in, except it is double the size. Hausa is the preferred language in Konni, but I was able to get by with my Zarma (some people were even excited to speak a different language with me). As another border town, Konni is filled with trucks passing through. They have many items in stores that my town has, but are rare in most if Niger- Ketchup, mustard, tofu, bananas, and more varieties of cookies, pasta, soda and juice, and yogurt. I was glad to find butter. 

I spent most of the time swapping stories with other new volunteers and watching movies. On Sunday night five of us new volunteers decided to go to a bar located right across the Nigeria border. We found five motorcycle taxis to take us there, or so we thought. About three miles outside of the town the taxis stopped. The drivers said they had not the papers to cross the border, but the bar was right there. However, we saw nothing around once they pulled away. It was pitch black, we were stranded in the middle of no where, and we weren�t even sure which country we were in! Our fear heightened when a mysterious car stopped briefly before us, but it continued on its way before we passed. Stranded between two countries, we stayed the course and after a half mile walk found our oasis. We had no trouble crossing the border (we actually made friends with the guards and they took us home afterwards). We enjoyed some Nigerian beer (though they also had Guinness and New Castle). And we definitely enjoyed and English speaking bartender. 

There was a Halloween party tonight at the American house. Somehow they found decorations and everybody had a costume. My friend and I went as a Fulani couple- and ethnic group here consisting of herders (I lucked out and got to be the man).

Though short, it was nice to spend a few days living like an American.