January 2006

January 1, 2006

It was a pretty quiet week. Remnants of the colonial era still remain as everything was closed on the 26^th in observance of Christmas. The schools stayed closed for the whole week for their version of �winter break�. I actually found that I awoke earlier than normal each day because the kids were out playing in the streets and knocking on my door instead of preparing to be at school by 8. When the mood strikes me I will let the young kids come into my yard and run around. They are hard to control and love to touch everything so I never let them into the house. The older kids are better. They will come in, sit down, and chat. I offer them water and show them pictures. One morning during break a middle school student came over real early. I had just made oatmeal for breakfast, so I invited him in for some. Oatmeal is hard to come by over here and now I know why. Despite having the perfect mixture of milk, sugar, and cinnamon, and being served at just the right thickness he was not impressed. He ate three or four spoonfuls to be polite, but I can tell he did not enjoy it. We talked; I showed him pictures and my books. He told me about his family and said that I should meet them sometime. We were together fro almost an hour when we had a lost in translation moment. I told him I needed to shower to go out. He said ok but stayed seated by himself as I went in the other room. He didn�t leave! He�s a good kid so I didn�t know what to do. I repeated my need to shower again with the same response. Finally I said as politely as I could �you should go�. Disappointed he responded, �I should go�. He left and has not been back since. I hope I get a grasp of his culture before I alienate myself from anymore friendly, enthusiastic students. 

On Tuesday afternoon I (along with residents of three countries) heard my voice on the radio. We made two cassettes to play because my partner was to be out of town for two weeks. The first one was about our organization and why we are here. I fumbled through the language, but it was not a bad first effort (though I�m glad I will be away when the second one airs-it was a bit forced and my language was real bad). I am fine saying words I am familiar with which are few and far between at the moment. As I keep learning my vocabulary will grow and the shows should be fine.

I spent New Years in the Regional capital-Dosso- with many other volunteers. I had three letters from my inspection for the Dosso inspection so I got to see the town and meet people in delivering them. I�m not yet sure of the difference, but there is a primary school inspection and an inspection for basic education. I do know that I have an invitation for tea at the latter whenever I return to Dosso. The trip was a success as I learned my way around the regional capital and had a chance to ring in the New Year like an American (drinking, English speaking, and fireworks). 

January 6, 2006

Before I left for New Years, the inspector of the secondary schools said he had a meeting on January 4^th with an American. He asked me if I would like to attend. I was to be back in town by then so I agreed. My �meeting� turned out to be a daylong 100-person conference on Islam. The conference was organized by the inspector and the American Cultural Center in Niamey. Since it was held at the Mayor�s office (the town hall) and not at the inspection I showed up an hour later. Still not knowing what was going on I sat down and listened to the speakers. It was entirely in Zarma. After the second person I was able to gather the topic was Islam, but I did not comprehend anything more that day. The hall was packed and everyone seemed interested. I later heard people talking about it on the streets so I think it was a success. I was a bit disappointed that the American who co-organized everything blew me off (I would like to think she was too busy, although I approached her after the events had ended). I conversed with a few journalists and people I knew from the schools. I also got a free lunch out of it. I�m not quite sure how I had such a different notion of what was to occur (I would like to blame it on the language barrier, but the inspector studied at the University of Buffalo, so we communicate in English). 

I resumed my previous projects yesterday. I went to the polytechnical school to help students with the computer. I prepare to show them MS Excel, but the students had changed. I improvised and repeated my last to MS Word sessions. The new students had much more practice previously with the computer. They were able to click and drag the mouse already. They seemed a bit bored with the lesson so I will have to prepare more advanced stuff for next time. 

Today I biked through the fields to the other Middle school to find a note on the door. There was a meeting and school was cancelled for the day. I tried to visit the high school but everyone was busy. Tonight I went to my neighbors for dinner. I hadn�t eaten there since before the wedding and he was feeling a bit worried about my continual absence. I showed up between the fourth and final prayer and chatted with all the neighbors. After the last prayer we went into his house. A kid ran in and said someone outside needed to see my neighbor. He told me to wait he�d be right back. I waited twenty minutes alone in his house before deciding to go. Once outside another neighbor told me there was an accident and my friend went to transport the victim home. I started to head down the street to the roadside food stands when I saw his wife. She told me I should go back in and eat. I figure that was the polite thing to do so I returned to the house and ate alone. It felt very awkward eating a home cooked meal in someone else�s house without them. But I think it was the culturally appropriate thing to do. Or at least I hope so. 

January 12, 2006

Barka Kaiyessi! Happy New Year! This is the term used for all religious festivals here. One of the biggest festivals in the Muslim calendar is Tabaski, falling on January 10^th this year. I have been told that the holiday is a celebration of Abraham's offer to sacrifice Isaac. It is celebrated by everyone who is financially able to purchase a sheep sacrificing one.

I began the day by visiting a friend. We ate guine fowl for breakfast. Everyone then proceeded to a large field for the prayer. Afterwards we went out to an abandon lot. They dug a hole in the ground and slit the sheep's throat over it, allowing the blood to drain in (I was told that rubbing the blood on one's skin like a lotion has medicinal powers-sounds like yet another notion for a future radio program to debunk). The sheep was skinned, its innards removed, and its body hung from a wooden beam over a fire.

I visited a few friends and as usual on these days I stuffed myself with food. I made a language mistake at on friend's house. She was wearing a skirt with a baseball motif. In making conversation I told her that I liked the fabric. I forgot that in Zarma the word for like is the same as the one for want (and Zarmas never say they like something unless they want it). She left and returned with a similar fabric for me. We then went to a tailor and she had them make me a shirt. It turned out really nice, but I hate getting gifts from people for no reason (especially ones without much disposable income).

In the afternoon I went walking around town again. By now the meat was ready. All of the internal organs were burnt to a crisp and served to me by everyone I visited. The taste and texture were not too bad, although some pieces were very chewy. It was a neat game to guess what part we were eating.

In the evening I took some friends to a Nigerien rap concert. They came from Niamey and were called Wass Wong. The night turned out to be good, but it is always stressful to plan things with Nigeriens. They are always late and many tend to obsess over little details in the planning. It was a chore to decided where to sit-who in what seat, or proximity to the stage, the direction we faced, and whether or not we wanted a table. We found a seat just in time for the opening acts, which were horrible. Fortunately for them the sound system was pathetic-a lot of static with tons of feedback-so we couldn't clearly hear how bad they were. However the main act was great and once we were all finally seated we had a good time.

The past two days have been spent visiting people and eating mutton. Fortunately, I somehow missed the eyeballs and reproductive organ courses. However, I am sick of sheep. Everyone has it in a bowl, lying in the sun atop their roofs. They pull down the bowl when company arrives or they want a snack. I don't know how long the meat is good for, but they will eat it for weeks afterwards anyways.

Work finally started up again today, although there is still plenty of visiting friends and eating meat. I think it was good to experience Tabaski, but it is tiring to visit everyone throughout the hot day.  And stressful to ensure enough time is spent with them so they don't feel slighted. I can definitely wait another year before gorging on this much mutton again.

January 16, 2006

I sat in on my first class today. I traveled out to the bush with the director of the school. He lives in my town and commutes each day on his motorcycle. He invited me out two weeks ago. Since I hadn't seen him since I was a bit nervous that he would remember our appointment (especially since I knew neither his name or the town I was suppose to visit).

We arrived at 8:15 (school supposedly begins at 8). One student rang the bell, which consisted of an old tire rim and a metal rod. Students began emerging from the surrounding houses. They came and lined up. A few girls went inside the classroom to sweep while some boys prepared the flag. The director barked military commands like "attention" and "about face" as the flag was raised. I then heard a soft mumbling which was the students trying to sing the national anthem (sung in French).

More students continued to trickle in throughout the ceremony. Afterwards they went to their classes. It is a small school featuring three classes-our equivalent to first, second, and third grade. Two classes met in temporary structures, most students sitting on concrete bricks. I observed the oldest class, the only one in a permanent building. There were forty plus students in the class, almost half were girls. They sat on both sides of the room facing the center. There were boards in the front and back. The teacher used the front one for the lesson while the back one featured the alphabet and the national anthem lyrics.

I thought the teacher did a good job moving around the room and he called on each student at least once. Participation was high, even among students who always answered wrong (they were not discouraged of being wrong-hopefully that stays with them). The students learned of math, French, and reading. Everything was in French and I'm not sure how much they understood. Some definitely followed the lesson, but at least a handful were lost.

Halfway through the lesson I had to refrain from Laughing as I noticed one student's attire. A young boy had purchased what he thought was a shirt at the market (they sell many used clothes donated from other countries). However, his shirt was not really a shirt. It was a green, flowered pattern dress intended for a girl three years younger than him. It had traces of old pads in the shoulders, low cut in the front and back, and came down to his thighs. Luckily I was able to hold back the laughter.

It was a productive day and made me feel better about the education system here. Some students are learning and some teachers are competent. As I learn more French I hope to sit in on more classes.

January 25, 2006

It has been another week of the usual in a normal month for me now. I finished my Zarma study book so I feel more comfortable with the language now. The vocabulary for the language is relatively small and most words have several meanings. As a result, Zarma is easy to speak, but hard to hear. I've decided to switch over to French so that I will be able to sit in on classes and meetings. I've hired a tutor and had my first lesson.

The projects are going well. They forgot to play our tape on the radio over Tabaski so we did not have to make a new show this week. Since the shows are in Zarma I've been spending a lot of time writing scripts (I'm nowhere near the point where I can improvise on air yet). This is helping my language tremendously.

The excitement this week came in the form of a small plastic bag. I was visiting my friend and as usual they fed their guest until the stomach couldn't hold anymore. It was at this point when my friend decided I needed a little snack. He sent a kid out who returned with four bags of fried crickets. I was not in the mood for any more food, let alone bugs. But rather than being impolite I crunched down on the winged treats. The bodies had an unpleasant after-taste. But the legs were very crispy and actually almost good.

As a volunteer in a foreign country I am working everyday. The inspections are open five days a week, as are the schools. On Saturdays there is usually extra help sessions at one of the schools. I enjoy this because it makes me appear very busy and gives me an excuse to cut short conversations on the street. People stop me all the time to chat. Often a ten-minute walk can turn into an hour-and-a-half venture to work. Since I cannot just blend into the crowd there is no way to avoid it. The days when there is no office to go to are the toughest; I lose my perfect excuse to keep moving. These days would be excellent to study language, write radio scripts, and plan computer lessons. However, this is not seen as work. Worried about me being lonely, people come to keep me company. I usually try to visit them to avoid the whole town coming to my house (I never know how to ask them to leave. I always say I'm going to rest, so they must think I want to sleep twenty hours a day!).

Today was one of those bad days that there is no work (school is closed Wednesday afternoons). I made the mistake of returning home. Immediately ten kids rushed in to greet me. I tried to teach them how to play "Go Fish" (I taught others to play and they really enjoyed it). But these kids were not in the mood for cards. They wanted to run around hitting each other and trying to break into my house. One girl attempted to go to the bathroom in the middle of my yard. I yelled at her to use the latrine. She moved over there and went next to the latrine. Angered I kicked them all out. They proceeded to climb the walls of the Mosque and hop over into my yard. Despite my yells and threats they didn't stop (I even managed to spank a kid to no avail). I took to the streets but they were empty. Finally I found a stranger to come yell at them. He went easy on them and didn't hit them (though most people would have chosen to since they were disrespecting the Mosque as well as the guest).

The toddlers have fear of me and the teenagers have respect. But all those in between have neither. I hope this doesn't become a reoccurring problem since I cannot control them.