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)