New Year's Eve

There's something about the eve of a new year that inspires reflection. As I reflect on the high and low points of my 2013, I'm reminded of the woman that I'm striving to be. I want to approach this year and every moment that I possibly can with compassion and joy. I want to be kind to myself and to others when I fall short, and I want to spend more of my time doing things that I find rewarding. 

May our hopes and dreams flourish in the coming year!

Americanization

I can't help it. I'm an American. And culturally, as far as I can tell, that means that I'm prone to be happiest while working...especially towards some goal oriented project. I love feeling useful, being successful, and making progress. All things that have been somewhat put on hold, or rather redefined, since I got here. In the states my successes and progress revolved around school and work...doing some fascinating research project, writing a successful paper...here they seem to revolve around navigating the market, cooking an edible meal, and communicating my needs however small to my neighbors and colleagues. I've felt very much like an infant this first month in ville. Learning how to walk and talk within the context of Niger. And now, while its still a work in progress, I'm beginning to feel much more confident about it.

I started my scheduled rounds yesterday, beginning with the Jardin. It was a much more "successful" visit (measured against my cultural standards) than the first in that the children were all seated on tabarmas singing songs about hand-washing and how to be a good listener and doing recitations about the hand and being a red ball. After that was over, I went home and had lunch with my neighbor. We talked about Maradi and a woman she knows who has typhoid. We talked about making sauce and the reasons why my sauce might not be very good...about what I did with my sorghum from 2 weeks ago and about what she was going to do with her millet flour (make tuwo). It was nice. It felt really normal...and I reveled a little in the feeling that I didn't feel out of place sitting on a tabarma in the middle of Niger, talking about tuwo. That little bit of reverie led me to revel in the feeling that for the first time in my life I have Everything that I want. Everything that I love is at my fingertips. A juicy long-term challenge aimed at progressive and sustainable change...the excitement of finding new ways to communicate and adapt, the stability of family, friends and Aaron back home.... *sighs*...

After my reverie, I got ready and went to meet with the girls group. I wasn't sure if they were meeting or when, but I thought I'd make my way over just in case. On the way I stopped and had tea with a small group of Nigeriens who spoke English with me. Then I waited with a group of children next to the school room where I was expecting the group. They laughed at my failing attempts to understand their Hausa and showcased me to their friends passing by. The group finally arrived and after a brief reintroduction we made our way to a shaded spot to work on stitching. They slowed down their French this time so I wasn't immediately intimidated and we had a nice time talking about Hausa, French and English, what they were doing in school, and where they all lived. Then they came over to see where I lived. It felt like I had made some friends...hollowed out a little niche or something. It only added to the happiness of my day.

I felt useful...successfully completing day one of scheduled activities....making progress by becoming more familiar with the Jardin and it's teachers and with the girls group....it was very American-esque. And I liked it. Today I Loved Niger.

Down Swings

I've just woken up and my first thought was that I hate this and that I want to go home. Of course after a cup of coffee and a few bluegrass songs on the ipod I'm feeling a bit better about things. My body is tired. I'm pretty sure I've got ameobas, which most days isn't a huge problem...just when I wake up feeling like I can't exist like this anymore...then its just an insult on injury. Yesterday was market, and a neighboring volunteer came over from their ville to take part. It was nice to have someone who speaks better Hausa than me to help me bargain, and it turned out to be a successful market. I managed a basin for my sink table, some potatos, onions, corn, sorghum and a sifter. It was exhausting in that we ended up going during the hottest part of the day and having guests here, while its a welcome break from the culture and everything, its also a Lot of work. It actually made me respect the Nigerien cultural aspect of cooking and sharing because its a tall enough order to cook and clean up after just yourself, but after another person as well....well its no wonder I woke up feeling a little helpless and sorry for myself this morning. Before they headed back today my neighbor was kind enough to fill my big bucket with water...which has lightened my mood considerably.

Bread Day

Its been a good Thursdsay...hard to even believe really that its Thursday and that tomorrow will be another market day already. It seems like just yesterday was the last market day. I suppose that's a good thing. Today I got up early, around 6:30 and decided to have breakfast in the market. I put my bed away, washed my face, filled my nalgene and put on some sunscreen before heading out into the day. I went towards the market, looking for some farimassa or some koko...and finding none, I detoured to the right to see what I could see. I found houses....tons and tons of houses. This morning made me believe that 30,000 people really could inhabit this place. I wandered and wandered and got myself lost. Finally when I was tired of being lost and really ready for some breakfast I asked the next person I saw, "Ou est le marche?" Well, he wasn't a French speaker, so I busted out my baby Hausa and just said, "kasuwa?" He knew what I meant and pointed me in the right direction....even walked with me until I knew where I was. We came out on the the main road just next to the Laban guy....Yay! So I stopped and chatted with some fellows who learned English in Nigeria and enjoyed my little bag of yoghurt before continuing on towards the main strip of shops...still Really really hoping to find some koko...its my favorite. I passed a couple of ladies with buckets along the road, and they might have had koko, but at the moment when I passed I didn't feel like trying to communicate how much I wanted so I passed them by and decided to have an egg sandwich and a cafe au lait. This was preferable because I met this particular egg sandwich guy at "live-in", and I knew I could communicate what I wanted. It was Very tasty...a nice Thursday treat.
After breakfast I decided it was time to try out my oven. So I looked through my cook book and found that I had all the ingredients to make some bread. So first thing first I went next door to ask Chima for her sifter...I was pretty sure my flour had bugs in it...and ugh was I right. It was gross. But Chima helped me take care of it and I told her in what I can only assume is my broken French that if it turned out well I would bring some over. It took several hours of kneading and rising and then separating and rising and then forming and rising before baking. And I have to say, it turned out really well for my first try. It didn't stick too badly and with a little peanut butter, it was pretty satisfying. Chima seemed to like it too, which was nice.
Tomorrow is market day. I'm going to hopefully try to buy some food and a basin for my sink table. Also, I want to find some millet stalks for hanging the lines for the mosquito nets. While I was waiting for my bread to rise I spent some time envisioning what I would like my home to look like little by little. I imagined filling in the nail holes with cement and painting the whole front room yellow. (right now 2 walls are yellow and 2 are blue) And then I want to paint a little mural on the main wall of a tree with the Hausa proverb "Babu bak'o cikin dunya, sai wanda ba ka sani ba" There are no strangers in the world, just people you haven't yet met. :-) After my first month is up I'll buy some paints and cement in Maradi and get to it.
Finally, I finished "In Defense of Food," by Micheal Pollan, today. I highly recommend it. It was a delightful and somewhat objective look into the food aspect of Western culture.

One Week in Dakoro

As of today, I have completed week one of my first month at post. Hooray! Much like life in Hamdallaye at the beginning, my days here have been filled with a myriad of roller coastering emotions: I love it, I hate it, I'm afraid, I'm empowered, I'm hot, I'm sweating, I'm sick, I'm feeling great, I'm lonely, I'm overwhelmed by people....in time all of these things will level out I'm sure. They did with Hamdallaye, they did with Demark, they will here as well.

This week has been a good one. I'm starting to establish little routines, alternating between yard/house work like sweeping, getting water (and carrying it on my head!) cooking, laundry, dishes and working at the inspection in preparation for the school year. Right now my work consists of figuring out who is who, practicing French, learning Hausa, and working out a local resource map from which I will hopefully formulate my projects in a way that they can be sustained by the community after I leave.

Getting water has become some what of a humilating chore for me. I have three buckets. 5 gallon, 4 gallon, 2 gallon. I cannot for the life of me get the 5 gallon one onto my head when its full, so this morning, I sloshed a whole mess of water all over myself attempting and then a whole mess more carrying it in my arms. The other people filling their water just looked on and laughed. The 4 and 2 gallon ones are no problem, and each time I go consider just making multiple trips with the smaller ones to fill the larger one that way but each time seems such an ordeal that the fewer trips I have to make the better. Hopefully by the end of all of this I'll either be a pro at carrying the water or will have developed the language skills and cultural courage to find out how to get running water in my concession. I have a spiget and a shower, so I think the place is set up to have it, and I say cultural courage because I think I might feel awful about having water if all of my neighbors couldn't. However the neighbor on the other side of my wall has water and electricity, with a fridge, television and dvd player; and she seems to be good friends with my neighbor across the street who has none of those things...so maybe there's no stigma. Hopefully in time I'll be able to tell.
As far as sweeping goes, its an endless and thankless chore...inside the house that is. There's no end to the dust inside...no end at all. Outside is a little more gratifying. Most women will sweep their concession area...the sandy equivalent of a yard...daily. My yard was full of rocks and goat poop (until yesterday) and is Waaaay bigger than a yard I'd choose to take care of in the states. So little by little in the cool breeze of each morning, I go out and toss rocks into my rock pile. Yesterday I hacked the dead branches off of my spiney branch bush with a giant knife and used them to make a compost area. Then I swept a small patch of my yard and put the sweepings into my compost area. It was a big day. Hacking apart a spiney bush is no small feat...I bled a little. But when it was done I felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction with my work.
Laundry is a little less gratifying than yard work because just as soon as its done, there's more of it. And it requires an extra trip to the spiget with my big bucket...not my fave. Also, I'm still working on my technique. There always seems to be more dirt in my clothes...I wash and rinse, rinse, rinse, rinse....and still there's more dirt. And as of right now I just cannot bring myself to use 2 big buckets of water. That is just asking too much for one day. On the upside, my indoor shower area works really well for doing laundry, so I can do it in the shade and privacy of my home.
I haven't done a whole lot of cooking yet, mostly because I'm not comfortable navigating the market and secondly because, I eat dinner with my neighbor across the way every night which eliminates a major meal. As far as the market goes, I don't have a lot of Hausa and while some vendors can speak French, in the market place, speaking French tends to get you ripped off; and I'm a terrible bargainer to begin with. Maybe this Friday when market rolls around again I'll make a list, make a budget and haggle to it. We shall see. I'm really lucky in that my house came complete with an oven and a variety of cookware left to me by the last volunteer who also loved to cook. In time I'm sure I'll be whipping up tastey things regularly.

A Brief Reflection:
So far Peace Corps has served to be an enlightening experience. It has forced me to observe myself objectively through my own cultural lense and through the cultural lense of the Nigeriens that I am striving to understand. It has raised in me questions of the quality and effects of modernization and is 'en train de' forcing me to develop a stance and a work plan within my conclusion about those effects. I am not here as an imperialist but rather an observer...looking for ways to help the Nigerien culture modernize in its own way....its own sustainable, environmentally and health friendly way. As of right now, it seems easy to see where outside forces have gone wrong in "aiding" the modernization of this place. Its come in bits and chunks that aren't connected or built upon eachother. For instance a road but no cars....then cars...but no fuel...then fuel but no way to take care of the cars, and how good are cars really...we're coming to find? What might have been more benifical would have been to leave the whole thing alone and let it develop on its own. As each need arises, let the people find a way within their means to meet it. After all, people have been living here for ages...is it an easy life? No. But I believe there's something to be said for a more simplistic (for lack of a better word) way of life; and maybe having a sturdy grasp on the implications and boundaries of "modernization" (which no one yet does) before trying to "raise up" other nations. So far I've concluded that all is in the eye of the beholder.

Happy Fall to all of you Mountaineers! Sai Angima. (See you later)

Demystification

This weekend was Demystification, which means that all of the trainees were sent out into the field to live with current volunteers whose job it was to "Demystify" us about life as a PCV. It was exciting and disapointing. Exciting in that I saw my first giraffe...albeit way off in the distance, but still!...took my first bush taxi, got handed my first baby on said bush taxi, climed a mesa, and had the opportunity to day dream about my upcoming life as a PCV. On the other hand, my upcoming life as a PCV seems as though it will be riddled with time...lots and lots of open time, which as an American, makes me feel a little uncomfortable.
On monday our demyster took us on a hike to the top of a Messa. It was incredible. Also, because it had rained during the night and into the afternoon, the temperature was perfect and ideal for hiking. Almost imediately after starting our trek I was grateful for my chacos, they're excellent hiking shoes! (Thanks A. :-) ) Once we made it to the top we walked out to each of the various ledges taking pictures and enjoying the Astounding views of Africa.
The Bush Taxi was fun but scary. Our first one was an open back pick-up truck which was nice for the view and the space but scary because riding the back of a truck, barrelling down a poorly kept road is scary. At one point, a woman trying to get on handed me her baby...which was cute but scary too because babies around here don't wear diapers. It was a short lived experience. As soon as mom was in the truck, the diaperless baby was back in her lap. We had some good food this weekend too. It was so nice to not have to eat with my hand and also to be eating things other than rice. We had tuna mac and cheese on Saturday night, bush pancakes and eggs Sunday morning, thai pasta with veggies and instant apple crisp (OMG it was good!) Sunday night and oatmeal with honey and hot cocoa on Monday morning. It was nice to be exposed to the kinds of foods we'll be able to prepare for ourselves once we're out in the field, and I can't wait to start cooking for myself. I'm not sure if I'll insist on cooking each meal everyday because its a lot more work than it would be back home, but I think I'd enjoy it none-the-less.
It was a fun weekend. Chad and I learned a lot from our demyster and had a nice look at whats to come. I can't wait!

The Bucket Shower

Everything that happens here is somewhat of a process. From bathing and doing laundry, to cooking and shopping for groceries, everything takes a certain amount of planning and preparation. A bucket bacth for example will usually go something like this:
First, I determine that it is time to feel clean and mentally resign myself to the fact that literally 60 seconds after my bath I will feel dirty again. Then I determine whether or not its the right time. For instance if I know I'm not done sweating for the day or if I look up to the East and see a storm approaching or if I wake up and its 60 degrees (while the coolness is VERY welcomed) it is not the right time for a bucket shower. If the time is right, then the next step is to fill my bucket with water, and if there is no water, then I have to go to the spiget to fill my container so that I have plenty of water for my bath and other things like drinking and laundry. Once I have my bucket filled, have gathered my soap, shampoo, towel, clean clothes, rinse cup etc... I am ready. Hands full and fully clothed I make my way from my concession to my bathing area. As tactfully as possible, I set down my water and rearrange my clean clothes so as to have a free hand to open the reed door that is draped over the shower's opening without getting dirt on everything, and then I move everything into the space and begin to arrange.
Dirty clothes off and either onto the second stool that I'm lucky enough to have because I live with Anna, or if there's not a second stool, draped over the wall of the shower; clean clothes in the same place. Also, its kind of funny to note that once I'm undressed, I cannot fully stand up because the walls are not high enough to hide me. :-p
So I'm in, I'm undressed, and I'm ready. I like to start with my hair because it wastes no water to wet it. I simply place my head over the bucket and use my cup to pour water over my hair. Lather and rinse...but don't rinse into the bucket, and then its on to my face and the rest of me. It feels very satisfying to watch all that sand wash away, my feet change color from orange back to glowing white. Its also somewhat stressful though to be sure I'm budgeting my water because it is a lot of work to run out of water in the middle of a bucket shower. It hasn't happened to me yet, but I can imagine it would be a pain to either dress in clean clothes while you're all soapy or your dirty clothes while you're half way clean to go out and get more water.
So I'm rinsed and I dry off and dress sitting down or crouching and the final step in this particular process is making it back out of the reed door, getting as little sand on myself as possible. This is quite a challenge because the edge of the drape brushes right up against one of the concession walls and is always flinging dirt as people go in and out. C'est la vie dans Niger! Il ya beacoupe de sable dans le desert!

Best!