OK, so this whole blogging thing isn’t really working for me (as you may have noticed). But, I have started to compile a variety of anecdotes from my life in Niger. Stories and observations about how different life is here as compared to the US - and things that I think are just plain interesting. To respect privacy and to protect myself, throughout the observations my town is referred to as “Ville”.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
I’d been in Ville for one full day and today when I attended a community wide meeting held by the prefet. I was told I would be picked up for the meeting at 8:00. In actuality I was picked up closer to 10. The meeting was to be held at the primary school and as we entered the yard I saw 70-80 chairs set up under the shade of trees facing a table with 3 chairs. The table was adorned by a Nigerien flag and was obviously set up for the speakers of the day. About 1/3 of the chairs were filled with men all wearing their best bubus and caps. Surrounding the chairs were groups of men of varying ages talking with each other before the meeting began. As the car stopped, Souley, my SG, told me to go take a seat and that he would return shortly. I did as he said and took a seat toward the back. I was the lone white person and the lone woman. I greeted everyone, while feeling 50 sets of eyes on me. I definitely felt out of place. After a while however a group of women entered and adjourned a meeting on the ground behind the chairs. Every so often a joyous yelp or round of applause would come from the group and I would wish I knew what they were talking about. If I was a little bolder, perhaps I would have asked to join them. But I didn’t, I sat patiently as more and more men filled up the chairs. At one point I had hope that the meeting would start as one of the town elders got on his motorcycle and started yelling something to the crowd. At this point, more people took their seats. Finally, 2 ½ hours after the meeting was scheduled to begin, Souley, alongside the prefet, entered the schoolyard followed by a tour of armed soldiers. As they took their seats up front, everyone situated themselves around the schoolyard. Suddenly the chairs were full and the standing room around the chairs was overflowing. I felt as though I might cry as all of the women from the group in back approached me to greet and welcome me. Their joy in my presence was obvious, and it made me very proud to be there. The prefet called the meeting to order and for the next two hours, I, along with 100+ villagers strained to hear what the prefet is saying. In the end, I must admit that I did not hear nor understand much of the content of the meeting, but the experience was certainly surreal.
Saturday, September 2, 2010
Today I attended my first Ville council meeting at the mairie. Let me set the scene: Under a tree outside the mairie, 16 mismatched chairs (many still with the plastic covering the seats) are arranged in a semicircle facing a small desk and two chairs. The desk is once again adorned with a Nigerien flag. Slowly men, who I can only assume are leaders within their Ville communities, begin to arrive (this meeting only starts 30 minutes late). As this is happening one of the community leaders drives through the yard of the mayor’s office yelling “beep, beep”. A moment you certainly wouldn’t find in the US. Finally everyone has arrived. As the meeting on the importance and strategies of collecting taxes continues I survey the scene and notice that there are 30+ men there (I am the only woman) listening attentively. I’m surprised to see that very few are taking notes, but as I think about it, I realize that many of these men, these leaders, may very well be illiterate. When the chairs ran out they began sitting on the ground. It was nice to be at a meeting without the pomp and circumstance seen in the western world.
Sunday, September 3, 2010
I was very tired this morning and hesitant to go on a walk. But, knowing that the most important part of my job right now is to get out, be seen and meet people, I pushed myself to leave the house (what’s the point of being here otherwise). As soon as I stepped out my door I was glad I did. Here is just a little of what I experienced on my hour-long walk.
I learned that a popular kids game here is hopscotch. I even played with one group of kids for a while. It was great watching their laughter (and that two of them were wearing knit caps in the 90 degree + heat).
A man offered to kill an animal for me and was then mildly appalled when I explained to him that I don’t eat meat (we went through every conceivable type of meat). I had several good laughs with him and his friends.
As you walk towards the outskirts of town (toward the fields), it is obvious that the wealth of families diminishes greatly. Houses and huts are made of inferior materials and are falling down at a much quicker rate. At one house I was greeted by a woman who asked for every piece of clothing I had on. She even offered to pay me for some of it.
Most everyone was very interested in who I was and what I was doing here.
I talked to the elementary school teachers for a while which was nice. I met them the other day and they are dedicated to helping me learn Hausa. As I was heading home the principal of the secondary school stopped me. I met him upon my arrival as well and he told me that one of the problems in Ville is girls education. Girls get married at young ages and when they do, they stop going to school. When he stopped me this morning we once again talked about this problem and he expressed to me how important he thought it was and how dedicated he was to it. He promised that if I took the project on that he would do everything in his power to help. I told him that I was very interested in the project, but that it was too early to know what I would be focusing on first.
All in all, not too bad for an hour. I got a lot accomplished just by taking a walk!
October 4, 2010
A different kind of work day. As a new PCV I’m struggling to figure out the right balance of living and working in Ville. I’ve been told to expect to have a lot of downtime, but how much is a lot. I’ve also been told to leave the house each day, but again, how much time is enough. I don’t want to hide in my concession, but at the same time, I have no set destination. Having nowhere to be and nothing planned for the day, I started out by taking a walk through a part of Ville that I hadn’t seen before (this venture may take a while as Ville has 11,000 residents). I walked, I greeted, I even stepped into some concessions to introduce myself and say hello. Towards the end of my walk I came upon a group of kids playing hopscotch. They were at once thrilled by the oddity of me and appalled at my Hausa skills. After much laughter (directed at me, a common occurrence here) I asked the girls to help me with my Hausa (there were several teenagers there). I meant in general, but apparently they wanted to get right down to business. They started quizzing me on what things are called and asking me to name different amounts of money. It was intense. Good and fun, but intense. It’s those types of interactions that make my walks seem worthwhile, but when I get home and it’s only been an hour I’m still left wondering - is that enough? Am I doing enough?
During the time between 12 and 4 each day activities in the town slow down as people rest and retreat from the heat. Rather than stay inside my concession during this time (where I feel walled away from outside activity - a blessing at some times and a curse at others), I decided to move my chair outside of my concession and study Hausa along the road. This way, I would be doing a much needed activity, while still making myself available to the people of Ville. Let’s just say that the plan worked. For the first half hour whenever people walked by I would look up, smile and greet them. Occasionally this became a small conversation, but more often than not, it was a fleeting moment. Then, the children found me (I must admit, this was part of my plan all along). At first it was just 3 or 4 of the kids from the families on each side of my house, but soon the word got out. We laughed as I wrote down everyone’s name and characteristics to help me remember them until there were too many kids to continue. Soon we were just laughing (very little talking really) and having a good time. Before I knew it I was holding court for 25 kids! They thought it was the best thing ever when I started to play soccer with a box (hopefully I earned some street cred). Unlike in other African countries I’ve visited, they didn’t seem to know soccer, it was more like they were just kicking a box around, but perhaps they were just shy. By this time there was quite the commotion and adults started joining the laughter from the outskirts. It was all good fun, but in 90+ degree heat I soon got tired. I told the kids that I was going to continue my studies. No problem. I looked at my book as they all hovered inches from my chair. Yeah, not much studying got done. As I was attempting to study I noticed that many of the kids were trying to see the pages in my book. I went inside and got a placemat that I brought with a labeled world map on it. We spent quite a while identifying different countries and parts of the world. It saddened me to see that they didn’t know where Niger or any of their neighboring countries were. Thinking back, I wonder if they had ever heard of the countries I was asking them to find (India, China, Brazil, etc). After that, we looked through Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day. They liked the pictures, but were sad they couldn’t read the story. It looks like I’ll be translating it into Hausa soon. But again, is that enough? What’s play and what’s work?
Now here it is, 5:00, the time many would consider to be the end of the workday and I’m still left wondering, was that enough? Did I do enough today to start to integrate myself into the community. I certainly didn’t work anything close to 8-hours (as we define a workday in the US). What else could I be doing? What else should I be doing? (Note: I will have been here a week tomorrow. In training they told us that we might feel this way, but still, what if I’m the one person ACTUALLY not doing enough?
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Today was such an interesting day. I went to the mairie in the morning to grab a copy of the strategic plan. I ended up spending most of the day there. In addition to meeting with the mayor, the SG and reading through the first half of the strategic plan (in French); I met with an organization that does sensibilizations throughout Aguie. As the meeting was in French/Hausa (Frausa), I didn’t catch everything. But perhaps we’ll be able to partner on something in the future. What was most notable about the day was lunch. In the space of an hour all the hot topics were discussed. We debated about whether or not Barack Obama was a Muslim. They insisted that he was because his middle name is Hussein. We talked about why I was vegetarian (as they lunched on random bits and pieces of meat). I tried explaining my reasoning to them in Frausa, but when that didn’t work; I told them that my entire family was vegetarian. That did the trick as family is of the utmost importance here (sorry family!). We ended by talking about marriage and why I wasn’t married at the ancient age of 34. I left with several invitations for significant others in Ville. I’m working with a lively bunch of guys!
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
This morning I worked at the hospital weighing and measuring babies. The malnutrition rate in this area is desperately high and it was difficult seeing the personification of that. The babies were all so small, tiny little limbs and huge heads. Several of the babies were 18 to 24 months and weighed less than 6 kg. The malnutrition program at the hospital is sponsored by several NGOs and governments, including UNICEF which I have never been so proud to say I support. The babies generally stay in the program about 4 weeks. The goal is to have their weight increase by 15%. Every week the mothers bring their babies to be weighed and measured (length and arm circumference). This information is then charted and the appropriate about of Plumpy Nut, a 500 calorie, complete nutrition packet, is given to the family for the week. Out of all the babies I saw today, just one was “graduating” from the program. He looked great in comparison to the rest of the babies, but still very small compared to what we’d see in the US. I hope to continue to work with the program over the next couple of years.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
It’s been a rough week. Last week my friend and fellow PCV in Niger, Stephanie Chance, passed away. This left us all in sadness and shock and the resulting travel, while necessary and helpful, was exhausting. That being said, it’s good to be back home in Ville. It’s amazing how quickly a place can become “home”. But now I’ve officially put down roots - I planted carrots, tomatoes, zucchini and green peppers in my garden (and I started a compost!).
I had two events happen to me over the past couple of days that I’d like to write about, but I’m not sure what I want to say.
The first of these events happened yesterday at the market. After about an hour I noticed that a man had started to follow me. While it made me uncomfortable, he made no requests of me. I continued walking around until I decided to go sit with some friends. He promptly followed me there as well. It was at this time I was informed that he was mentally imbalanced (although I had a pretty strong suspicion before that point). Rather than yell at the man or treat him harshly, my friends asked him to leave me alone and let him be. While he hung on the outskirts of the conversation, he was again, not bothering anyone. When I was ready to leave and the man started to follow me again, a friend came up to him and kept him involved in the conversation, rather than having him follow me. It was a very gentle way of dealing with a problem that is often treated with disdain in America. But it certainly does lead me to wonder how mental illness is perceived and treated in general in Niger.
The second event occurred this morning as I was talking with my SG under the shade of a tree in the yard of the Mairie’s office. A man came up to us (but did not approach us) and started to doing somersaults (forwards and backwards) on the lawn. He proceeded to take off his clothes and continue this activity. My SG explained to me that the man was high on a drug similar to cocaine. I don’t know why, but I honestly never thought about the availability and use of hard drugs in Niger. People can’t afford the bare necessities, how can they afford to spend their money and waste their lives on drugs? Who is profiting off of this madness?
