Meanwhile, back at home...

Paralyzed

2009-04-03T15:31:00.003-04:00

I'm paralyzed. That's how I feel at least. Let me explain.

Post Peace Corps, and now with a year of life back in the states under my belt, I have an extremely wide angle world view. The world is freaking huge, and it contains a lot of people from a lot of different cultures. A lot (and I mean a whole effing lot) of those people are suffering from an enormously wide range of difficulties. This includes the child dying of malaria in west africa, to the poppy farmer in Afghanistan whose crops we just crushed with supplies for our soldiers, to the CEO who's trying not to let his corporation collapse under economic downfall, to the mom down the street who is just trying to get her kids to school on time when her car fails. All of these problems are of utmost concern to those people at that moment. Empirically, yes, some may be more life or death than others, but relative to the person, they are all equally important.

I have a small, finite, amount of time to spend on this planet. For whatever reason, I have a deep desire to help, to do good, and to connect with people. It is what gets me out of bed in the morning. Whether I am carrying school books and supplies to a girl in a rural African village, or just helping someone find the right computer and avoid buying more than they need, I perform these duties with the same sincerity, empathy, and honesty. The expression of genuine gratitude I receive in payment is the same from all these people. It creates in me the same wonderful feeling of connectedness, no matter how profound or mundane the help I just offered may seem. It's all wonderful, all these problems are important, and all these people just want honest help.

This is where I become paralyzed. Where do I even begin? How do I decide what small portion of this world receives the time I have to give? And, how much of that time should I be keeping for myself? I can't even default to the selfish "what makes me happy" answer as I genuinely get the same satisfaction from helping an old man make his email work as I did helping a child carry water back to his family from the well.

The result, because I am pulled in all these directions is that I am just standing still. I cannot make myself look for employment or volunteer opportunities. I can barely even work on my own little creative personal projects. There is so much out there that I can do that I am rendered incapable of action at the thought of closing off one part to pursue another.

Only in America...

2008-11-28T09:38:00.002-05:00

Only in America can we elevate retail to the level that it has it's own holiday. Let's face it, if it isn't already, that's what "Black Friday" is becoming. Wow. Just, wow.

Proud to be an American...again.

2008-11-12T08:39:00.002-05:00

There's no denying that things are different here in the states now compared to when I left. Turns out two years is a decent chunk of time. Especially here in Vermont, the push for local sustainability and social responsibility is impressive, if not inspiring. The eagerness with which the people around me discuss major topics surprises me, and the intelligence with which they discuss them excites me.

The icing on the cake, though, is our new President Elect, Barack Obama. I intentionally did not follow the spectator sport that was our election coverage. When I did, it only served to stress me out, regardless of who it was leaning toward. On November 4th I stayed at home and played video games as I decided that watching the coverage in no way enriched my evening. I figured I'd find out who won in the morning and would be able to handle the news with a few degrees more sanity for having gotten a good night's sleep.

So 11 o'clock rolls around and I turn off Resident Evil 4 for a brief moment and there it is! The election has been called for Obama. I breathed a sigh of relief and resumed greeting my friend Djimi who had just showed up for a visit.

Now that all of this is over I can say, with no uncertainty, that I have never felt more inspired, more confident, more optimistic, and more proud to be an American than watching Obama's victory speach. Obama is thoughtful, intelligent, and eloquent. When he explains the current state of things, and how he hopes to improve them, I can actually follow him instead of getting lost in rhetoric and vague statements of ideals. With Obama, he tells you flatly what steps he will take. You feel informed, as if he cares about whether or not you feel involved. Other candidates never made me feel like I knew what their plan was. A decision between something clear yet mutable and something unknown but "unwavering" is not a decision.

I think I can best sum up how I feel about the election with this: Obama makes me want to become involved with the Peace Corps again. Not from a sense of "I need to show the world Americans are not all evil" this time, but from a genuine desire to represent my country.

An observation

2008-06-22T02:14:00.000-04:00

Nothing is ever as good as it was.

Further musings.

2008-05-24T08:48:00.002-04:00

So an interesting thing happened to me the other day. I found myself at a pub surrounded by newly graduated veterinarians. Now the reason this is interesting to me is because for as long as I can remember, my plan was to go to vet school. Somewhere along the way I got sick of school and decided I'd rather join the peace corps after college instead. I don't really know how it happened but it did. Meanwhile, my best friend went on to vet school and was one of these new doctors.

It was very strange to sit there and listen to people who were discussing all the trials and tribulations of vet school, and finding a job afterward, and paying student loans, etc. Basically they were exactly where I would be today (well okay a year from today) if I had stuck to the plan. It's kind of like life was giving me a glimpse of an alternate timeline where I had not joined the peace corps. You know what my conclusion was? No thanks.

I'm saying that the modern American lifestyle is bad per se (especially since these are all quite open minded world aware people) (well ok there are lots of problems with it but I'll bite my tongue for now), but it's not for me. I find myself thinking, as I listen to their stories, "where's the adventure, the excitement of the unknown?" There are no tales of harrowing public transportation, or bargaining for a half an hour over fifty cents on some trinket. There's no spontaneous trips to the next big city, let alone a spur of the moment border hopping (Canada doesn't count). It baffles me that people not only aren't curious about that left fork they never take, but actively try to pretend it's not even there.

The other baffling part is that I would think this lack of adventure signifies a desire for calm. And that's what people will tell you. They just want a moment to themselves. But here's the catch...give them a moment to themselves and see what happens. Now, I don't just mean a moment free of obligations. They weasel enough of those into the day as it is. I mean a moment where all they have is themselves. We westerners have gotten so good at always staying just busy enough that we never have to just stop and reflect. And even if we run out of little things we can think of that we have to do, we fill our leisure time with any number of activities that more or less passively occupy our brains.

I've found that it really takes a concerted effort for me to just reflect these days. For one thing, I've definitely gotten sucked into the "must occupy every moment" mentality a bit myself. For another, two years in Africa has left me with strong cravings for a large number of activities that I missed (video games, board games, tv, movies, restaurants). It's hard, but now I can at least see myself doing it.

Maybe that's one of the biggest changes I feel I've had since coming back. As a result of my peace corps time, I can now feel like an outside observer to most situations. While the things this reveals are interesting and useful to me, this can also be very lonely. As I found when sitting with the vet school graduates, I felt distinctly separate from them. The path my life is on has come in sight of all of my friends, but it's still a distinct road...

Home?

2008-04-29T11:08:00.003-04:00

It's snowing outside. I'm wearing several layers of clothing. I had 3 cups of good coffee this morning...and wasn't afraid of running out and not having any for months. I drank a beer last night that was not Biere Niger. If I want to go somewhere...I can just borrow one of the two cars my family owns. I have no worries that I will be able to post this entry as soon as I finish it.

I haven't conversed in Zarma in weeks. I am bombarded by sensationalist news stories. If I plan to meet with someone and something comes up, I am expected to inform them immediately, even though I don't have a cell phone. I have no idea how much water I have used in the last 24 hours. Though I am constantly reminded how glad people are to have me home, I don't feel like I quite fit in anymore. I am cold.

I don't really know how to explain the way I feel about being home. It's home. It's definitely comfortable in many ways. But it's awkward in others. It's not the same as it was and I don't really know if it's changed, or I've changed, or both. I still don't really know what I'm going to do. I can't really motivate myself to commit to anything right now: job, phone plan, car, anything. It's as if by doing that I'm officially tethered here. I know that's not true. I know that if something came up that could send me back to Africa, I could find a way if that's what I really wanted.

One of the things I think I'm having the hardest time with is reconciling the existence of both here and Niger. I realize now that when I was over there, the United States kind of stopped being a real place. I knew it was there, I remembered that it was a cool place to live with lots of stuff. I heard about it on the news. I talked to people there regularly, but it didn't really exist. Time over there was on hold while I was gone. Now that I'm back I realize that that's not the case. Things have changed. And, I'm faced with the fact that it really is a place. And people really do live like this completely oblivious to the rest of the world. And they're quite happy that way. It's like my head isn't big enough to hold a world view that contains both extremes. I can't bring myself to not expand the picture to still contain Niger, but juxtaposed in my mind, Niger and the US coexisting makes no sense.

So I guess I'm wrestling with that dilemma. At the same time, I'm trying to figure out how to readjust my life here to account for the various things I've learned or habits I've picked up in Niger. I have come to the conclusion that I have entirely too much crap. I have so much stuff in my room that I don't need. At all. In any way. Most of it doesn't even really have any sentimental value.

One of the things that's disturbed me the most is that when I was hanging out in Burlington, just walking down the main shopping drag in Church St., I was amazed at how tangible this deep seated urge to buy was. I could feel it like I feel the force of gravity. Somewhere deep in my unconcious I was driven. I had money in my wallet and it needed to get spent! Where is this coming from? I didn't even really want anything, except to spend money on shit I didn't need. I don't need to buy a Wii, I can play the one at my friends' apartment. But because I really did want one, I was compelled to drift into game store after game store. I resisted, but still had this nagging desire to spend money.

Is the subliminal advertising demon so thoroughly pervasive and effective? Or was I just caught up in the collective unconscious flock? I don't know but it was really frightening. Watching the news is a similarly unsettling experience. I was never aware, I mean really consciously aware, of how sensationalist the news here really is. Now that I've spent 2 yrs completely unexposed to it, it's amazing. The way they put together stories, and choose their words, even the presidential campaigns sound like sporting events. They make every little story seem like a life or death struggle. It's something I hardly ever saw in international news.

I keep saying that the peace corps is the best deprogramming machine the government doesn't realize it's paying for. I think it's very true. Don't get me wrong, I still very much love America. But there are some frightening undercurrents at work that were just not visible until I spent time completely free of them. It is really amazing how much the media influences, if not outright controls, us.

Back In America :/

2008-04-14T13:19:00.002-04:00

Well...that's it I guess. I've been in America for about an hour and a half now. I've cried atleast half a dozen times during that. It started when Alex, Djimi, and I parted ways from Alison in Dublin. I don't like this slow peeling away of people. First Kurt in Niger, then Alison. Atleast when the three of us landed here in JFK we said a quick good bye and then quickly left for our respective continuations. None of this drawn out good bye nonsense.

I got half way to the air train that links the terminals and the tears started coming. In saying goodbye to those last traveling companions it really felt like the final connections back to my service had passed. While we were traveling we still felt like PCV's in a way. Well, I did atleast. It could have been any vacation taken during service. But now we've hit stateside and parted ways to go home. And knowing that even if I do see all of them again, it will be in a completely different context with completely different experiences behind us, that chapter of my life is really closed now. There's no more pretending.

Sure I might find my way back to Niger, or atleast West Africa. But it won't be the same. It's time to move on...to life after Peace Corps. Bittersweet as it may be.

(regains his composure and wipes away another wave of tears)(Deep Breath)

By the way, this is not the last post. I have many many back posts that I want to eventually get typed up and posted. Also I still have to fill you in on the rest of my vacation, not to mention my adjustments back to the states. So you can probably expect atleast another month or two of posts. After that...who knows.

What's the Best Way to Hear God Laugh?

2008-04-06T12:39:00.003-04:00

Sometimes it doesn't matter what plans you try to make. It seems like every time we try to make plans on this journey, we get shunted in another direction entirely. You'll see in a moment.

England has been fantastic so far. I've been here several times before, but the last was about 9 years ago, so this is really my first trip as a conscious being. There's lots of images and places and things in my head, but I'm finally sorting them out to make a real concept of the place. I fully intend to not let nearly so much time pass before I return here. I may even look for jobs here once I get back to the states.

After our mad dash out of Africa our arrival in England was fairly low key. Though we did encounter, within the Underground, and out of nowhere, a woman who had attempted to come visit me in Niger, though we had never really got it worked out. Turns out she is friends with another Australian who had been on our plane out of Ghana and had come to meet him at the airport. After a little brief chat in the tube she asked if I was indeed Seabass who she'd been emailing. After that I remembered her emails and the fact that I had kind of dropped the ball on arranging a meet. Luckily she felt the same way about her role in things and we've been hanging out off and on all week. Miranda is a hoot. Small world.

Keeping ourselves busy in London hasn't been terribly hard. On Monday we went and visited Parliament courtesy of my cousin Lizzie. We watched the entrance of the Speaker of the House of Commons. Talk about pomp and circumstance. As Djimi put it so eloquently "It's a good thing I went and watched [the parliamentary debates] because otherwise I would have had no respect for your government." It was actually quite interesting to see the style of discussion. Very different from our own, though not entirely dissimilar. After parliament my aunt Tam took us to Tea at Fortnum and Mason's, the queens grocers. We kept waiting for them to kick us out as we sat there in our hoodies and things. All very posh, but very fun too. The waiter even set the napkin in my lap for me. Kind of awkward.

We've spent several days walking around and seeing the sights too. London Tower Bridge, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace. The galleries are all free which is nice too. We explored the Tate Modern with the A team on Thursday which was neat, but slightly overwhelming. After having been deprived of art for so long, absorbing that much in a day was a little staggering.

Upon arrival we had sort of decided to spend the week in London and head up North to visit my aunt Sue in Yorkshire on the weekend, before heading back down to London for our last several days. Well, as the weekend rolled around we kept finding things in London we wanted to do, so we decided to stick around. We had already announced our previous plans to Lizzie, our host, however. So come Friday, we were suddenly without a place to stay as she had other friends coming in to stay from out of town. Luckily Helen, the girlfriend of a friend of ours from Niger, put us and the A team up for the night, though she had been worried that her lack of heating and hot water would make us suffer. She forgot we are RPCVs and didn't need luxurious accommodations. Just give us the floor and a blanket and we'll survive. She took us out to a pub for pizza and things too which was delicious.

Sadly, she was heading out of town yesterday so we couldn't stay there more than the one night. So I spent most of yesterday calling around various friends and contacts trying to find a place to stay. The result of this was that all our London contacts were exhausted for the weekend, but my aunts out of town were more than eager for us to come visit. So...London basically kicked us out and made us stick to our original plan.

I collected Djimi and we hopped on a train around 7 o'clock to Darlington in Yorkshire and are now being pampered and over fed by my aunt Sue. It's wonderful. We went on a nice walk this morning and saw some of the English countryside. Even more reasons to come back. The pace of life here is a little closer to what we're used to than London, also, which is comforting. So we're taking the chance to relax a bit and figure out where to go next.

Escape from Africa!

2008-03-31T17:53:00.000-04:00

The universe tends to unfold as it should. That's kind of been our running slogan for our last couple of weeks in Africa. It's like we've been given one last crash course in African patience and fatalism. You know...just to make sure we got it.

The original plan was something along the lines of getting to Cotonou, Benin on Wednesday night (the 19th of March), go to the Ghanaian Embassy on Thursday and apply for visas hoping to get them either that day or Friday. We were then going to spend a day or two in Grand Popo, Benin before zooming on to Ghana to relax on the beach and eat good food and drink good beer until we fly out of Accra on the 28th. There were also some waterfalls and hikes we wanted to go see on the way. That was the original plan.

So we get on the bus at about 2:30am Wednesday morning and of course it was not the air conditioned one with good shocks but rather a refugee from the seventies. Needless to say the ride was less than enjoyable. There were several roads that were so bad that we were literally tossed out of our seats. Atleast we didn't have to watch the same awful Hausa videos the whole way down. Eventually we made it to Benin, got our hotel, and started to feel better about the trip as we planned to go get our visas for Ghana the next day.

Cue the first SNAFU. Yeah, we kind of forgot about the fact that Ghana is a Christian nation. They actually care about that whole Easter holiday thing. They care about it to the tune of a 4.5 day weekend starting thursday afternoon in fact. So there was no way we could collect our visas until the following Tuesday. This essentially killed Ghana as a site seeing excursion, as our flight was on Friday morning. At best we could get maybe one full day that we could either go to the beach and feel rushed, or just chill in Accra. We were not pleased.

But, when life hands you lemons. We suddenly found ourselves with 4 days to spend in Grand Popo where we could not be productive even if we wanted to. We couldn't do anything until Tuesday. It was like enforced relaxation and I think it was exactly what we needed. Those four days with the A-team and Djimi were probably some of the most enjoyable days I've had in Peace Corps. We celebrated Easter by going to the Lion Bar, which is run by this big happy rasta guy. We showed up and ordered a round of sodabi (distilled palm wine) shots to toast our completed service. When the rasta saw us do our toast he gave us the rest of the sodabi bottle for free. Djimi and I proceeded to get absolutely wrecked. We're convinced the rasta was trying to kill us with sodabi. Luckily we met some friendly Benin volunteers who helped us carry Djimi back to the hotel. I was at-least capable of carrying myself...barely.

Fast forward to Tuesday. The girls left us on Monday to go to Lome, Togo to try to get their Ghana visas. Djimi and I returned to Cotonou on Tues morning hoping to collect our visas and then go to the SNTV bus station and take that night's bus to Accra, getting there sometime the following morning. Well...we get our visas, no problem. But there's no bus on Tuesday night. Learning this, we went and got lunch while we weighed our options.

Here was our situation: It was Tuesday and we were in Cotonou, Benin. We had to be in Accra, Ghana by 4am Friday. The next bus would leave around 11pm wednesday night and get to Accra by around 10am Thursday. Do we wait? Do we ditch the bus and go find bush taxis? We knew the bus line was relatively reliable and it had the advantage of getting us to the SNTV station in Accra where we had some bags waiting for us that we had shipped ahead. If we took the public transportation we would have to find the station once in Accra. Also, when we thought of public transport, the Nigerien bush taxis are what came to mind, which are not at all reliable and it seemed like that would just be a very stressful way to travel. Once on the bus we just let it go and hope it doesn't break down. Even if it did, we still had over 12 hrs worth of delay time before we would miss our flight. So...we chose to wait in Cotonou until Wednesday night and take the bus.

We showed up at the SNTV station in the afternoon after checking out of our hotel, and killed the day doing some laundry and hanging out speaking Zarma with all the Nigeriens there. Around 9:45 the bus shows up from Niamey. Sure enough it's the shitty seventies bus again. Oh well, we can cope with that. Oh yeah, and it's broken. Won't go until the morning. Argh! Well, we were still hopeful that maybe it would be fixed quickly in the morning. Being the hard core PCV's we were we said screw it and just slept at the station. They atleast had mattresses for that purpose. However, it wasn't much of a sleep as there were lights, and people milling about, and we were just sleeping exposed on the ground. So that's where the lack of sleep began.

The next morning, we awoke around 7. The mechanic didn't show up until about 7:45. Now, we thought about going and taking bush taxis...but all of our CFA was tied up in the bus tickets, cause we had changed all our money to pounds and cedis the day before. So we hung around waiting to see if they could get the bus fixed. Around 9am they got it started and told everyone to get on the bus. Excitedly we did so and felt so relieved, knowing we were going to catch our flight.

Ten minutes later everyone is getting off the bus. Something went wrong and now they needed to wait for the mechanic to go buy a new part or something. What made the whole morning really hard was that at no point did it not seem like they were on the verge of fixing the bus. So we were never able to convince ourselves to go ask for a refund and run to the bush taxis. Also, the bus had inevitability on it's side. We had no clue really about the bush taxis in this country, but if we waited long enough, the bus would get us there.

So we waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, after some cheap lunch across the street, someone finally told us that the bus was not going to run that day, but that we could wait until the next one came from Niamey that night. Sorry, that just wasn't going to work, we had a flight to catch. But we were already pretty sure it was too late to catch a car that would get us to Accra in time. At this point we were resigned to the fact that we would miss our flight have to eat the cost of another ticket. Or so I thought, until I'm coming out of the toilet and Djimi flags me over. Apparently this big Nigerien guy who lives in Ghana is going to go get a bush taxi, cause he doesn't want to wait either. Turns out if we left right then (aobut 2pm) we would get to Accra around 8 or 9. Brilliant! Let's go!

So we follow our new friends to the bush taxi post, and they hire a car for only 4 of us (yes! extra comfort!) that will take us to the Togo, Ghana border. On the other side we'd have to find another car to get us to Accra. Suddenly we went from absolutely missing our flight to having a comfortable ride, and a guide to get us through the borders and hopefully find the bus station at the other end. The universe...

So began our mad dash through 3 countries to catch our flight. The ride through Benin and Togo was actually quite nice and largely uneventful. Almost relaxing even. The Ghanaian border, however was less nice. It was easily the most complex, bureaucratically to get through. Also, the Ghanaian side was awful. It was like the worst market in Niger, except that we were not familiar with it. We lost our friend going through, and so had to find a car on our own, loaded with all our stuff, while people constantly came up to us and harassed us about their car, or grabbed at us. Mostly it sucked because it was impossible to stop and collect ourselves and figure out what we needed to do.

There was one guy who we sort of ended up following. One of the unpleasant side effects of being a PCV in Niger is that it makes you, by default, untrusting of anyone trying to help you. Or at least that's what it's done to me and Djimi. Invariably, once they finish helping you they will demand compensation. It doesn't matter that you didn't ask for their help. So we were loath to actually commit to letting this guy lead us around. But after turning down several offers for bush taxis at prices we knew to be inflated (Genghis had warned us of what it should cost), the guy asked us how much we wanted to pay and then he found us a car for that price. He even asked us where in Accra we wanted to go and seemed to be setting us up to end up near the SNTV station. Once he turned out to be trust worthy we gave him some of our remaining CFA (we needed our cedis now that we were in Ghana) and felt bad for not trusting him.

Ghanaian bush taxis, way nicer than Nigerien ones. For one, they actually enforce the 4 person per seat standard. They are also in much better repair than the ones we were used to. The roads however, were about on par with Niger. So it was not the most relaxing ride, but it was going to get us there. We didn't get to see much of the Ghanaian country side as at this point we were traveling after dark (something we were not supposed to do as a PCV, heh). Though we did get stopped many times by police. At one stop they actually pulled us out and checked our passports. Turned out they just wanted to document us passing through. The guy was also very friendly and nice. Again...the universe tends to unfold...so I figured I'd give something a try. I asked the guy if he knew where in Accra we could find the SNTV bus station. He told us that if we just stayed on our bush taxi until the last stop we would be in the neighborhood and should be able to ask the locals. Fantastic! I knew we had been pulled out at that stop for a reason.

Accra is rediculous. As we road through we could not help but look with dropped jaws. It is a real city. I can't even really begin to describe how much it is not like Niamey. It had highways, and overpasses, and pizza places, and a mall! We saw an add for an honest to god shopping mall! Irikoy Bere!

Anyway, eventually we go through all the nice built up districts and end up in a quarter that looks a little more like what we were expecting. Still nicer than Niger, but looking more like an African town with street sellers and people carrying stuff on their heads and lots of taxis trying to get us to take them. We oddly felt more comfortable. But...it was also 10:30 at night and we had to find a Nigerien bus line in a town we didn't know. So we started asking. Eventually, despite our best efforts we picked up a guide who wanted us to follow him.

Now, we knew full well that we were blatant targets. Two white guys with lots of bags, clearly not knowledgeable about the area. Totally dependent on someone helping us. But we didn't really have any other option. It was in Allah's hands at this point. And we started to get worried when our guide started leading us into what was clearly a market that was closed up for the night. As a rule, a market after dark is probably one of the least safe places you can go in an African capital city. But...again we were out of options and running out of time. So we swallowed the lumps in our throats and carried on.

Our guide stopped to ask a bunch of guys sitting around eating dinner if they knew where the SNTV station was. What was that greeting I heard? Was that a fofo? Ha! They were Zarmas! As soon as Djimi and I were speaking Zarma with these guys we felt one hundred percent safe. We had instant friends and they would take care of us. I love that about West Africa. Even though the station would be closed for the night they knew the guy who could open it. When we got to the station, it turned out they were actually open cause they were waiting for the same bus that we had been waiting for that morning (was that really the same day, insane). We told them our situation, that we needed our bags that night, and they called the boss with the key to the office and he came and let us in. There was a brief moment off panic as our bags were not in the office, but then they took us to another room and we found them. Alhumdulilahi!

After further chatting with the Zarmas they asked us how we were getting to the airport. We said by taxi. They told us we should not do that because a lot of the taxis on the road at that hour would just take us to their friends and clean us out. So they found one of their friends with a car and arranged to take us and our bags to the airport for 10 cedis (about 10 dollars). Done and done! We made it to the airport by around 11pm. We were gold. So we sat in the airport cafe and had an the best sandwiches ever and beer and fries. We had made it.

We spent the next couple hours washing the road off ourselves in the bathroom and changing some clothes and just relaxing. We had intended to sleep, but it didn't happen. But we got our flight to Morocco and that's all that mattered. We were getting off the continent and now it was just up to the airlines to not screw us up.

Now, we're in London, staying with my cousins and generally being overwhelmed, but in a good way. We've pretty much spent the weekend just recovering from our mad dash out of Africa. It's been nice, and now we're ready to go really explore the city.

Whew

2008-03-28T19:05:00.001-04:00

5 countries in 27 hours.

7 hours of sleep in the last 72.

Finally in London. About to get the best sleep of my life. Details to come.

And We're Off!

2008-03-18T12:22:00.002-04:00

Djimi and I are leaving tonight around 2am. We'll be heading through Benin, Togo, and Ghana for the first leg of our journey. Not quite two weeks. We'll then fly out of Accra, Ghana to London and mooch off some of my relatives and friends we've met for two weeks. After that, a brief sojourn in Dublin before flying back stateside.

I'll try and make some posts along the way when I find internet access. But if all goes well we should be stateside again by April 15. The A-team will also be traveling on a parallel itinerary so we'll probably meet up with them here and there.

Catch you on the flip side.

Gimme an R!

2008-03-14T07:42:00.003-04:00

I'm done! I just finished my COS interview and am now officially a Returned PCV, though I haven't returned to anywhere but the hostel yet. It feels good to no longer be a volunteer actually. I wasn't sure at first but yeah... it's a good feeling. I no longer have to answer to the bureau! It's like suddenly I feel like an adult again.

The exit interview went really well. It was nice to be able to air some of my grievances and offer some constructive suggestions and actually feel like my opinion was being respected. Even still, I don't know that I'm ready to leave. I suddenly feel so free...and I'm just going to go back home?

After the Village

2008-03-13T11:40:00.000-04:00

Limbo. That's where I'm at. Though it's easily the busiest, noisiest, most frenetic limbo I've ever conceived of.

I'm out of the village. Leaving was kind of a non-event. I guess I've spent so much time preparing to leave, and with my villagers knowing it was coming, that when it happened it was like, ok bye. The morning the car was coming I just kind of sat there waiting. Everyone else had stuff to do, so there wasn't really anyone around, until the car actually showed up. Then there was lots of goodbyes with the villagers closest to me and a few gifts to hand out. Otherwise, not terribly exciting or emotionally jarring. Also we gave my school director and village chief a lift into Niamey, which made the whole thing seem that much less final.

That said, as our passengers were getting out in Niamey, Boubacar (the school director) was reluctant to shake my hand, as if that declared our parting final. There's been a few times in the last month that he seemed like he would cry when we talked about my leaving. That's a huge thing for a Nigerien. They don't do public crying. If he had cried, I would have lost it. But knowing that I'm just hanging out in Niamey for a while makes it hard to really feel the finality of it all. I suspect when I'm crossing the bridge into Benin I'll finally break down.

In the mean time, I'm here in Niamey, along with probably 80% of PC Niger. Swear-In is coming up on Friday so it's pretty much party party party until then. It's an odd situation in that there are so many demands on my attention, since I'm leaving and all, and yet I'm having a really hard time feeling keen on getting into all the large crowds and parties. I'd kinda rather just spend some quiet nights with my closer friends until it's time to leave. Unfortunately, that's hard to do when all of your possible places to go are full of PCV's in celebration mode.

Still, I've found a couple of escapes. Last week I went and visited Brittany's village. It's funny that even though I hadn't been there in a year (when I did Brittany's live-in) a large number of them remembered me. I guess they had been clamoring for me to come visit for quite some time. I'm sure visiting the village for three days means Boo and I are married now, in their eyes. Still, it was a nice last bush experience where it wasn't all overshadowed with my imminent departure. It was just a nice visit.

During that visit, I also went and saw a Xima (sorcerer) in Gotheye. Alison is pretty good friends with him apparently and so took Boo and I to see his stuff. He immediately took us into his little shrine(?) and showed us all the garments and props used in possession dances. He also had a large assortment of perfumes, animal parts, and plant powders used to make various traditional medicines. He actually showed us the preparation of a love potion which involved taking various powders (all different plants and colors) and floating them carefully on the surface of water in a calabash. He made a really beautiful pattern on the surface with the powders. Apparently you are then supposed to drink 4 times from the clear center and then bath with the water. It blows my mind that I was almost in this country for over two years and never saw that!

So yeah, I'm mostly just killing time and spending time with those dearest to me before I get to get on the bus to Benin. Also wrapping up the various bureaucratic loose ends needed to actually close my service. But come Friday, I will finally be an RPCV!

Here we go.

2008-03-02T01:55:00.002-05:00

Whelp, here we go. I'm about to head back to the village for, in theory, the last time. Tomorrow my move out car will come to get me and my stuff. I feel strangely calm at the moment. I'm sure that'll pass.

This past week was live in, when all the current trainees go out to their villages for a week before going back to Hamdy to wrap up their training. A current volunteer usually spends the first night with them in the village just to make sure everything is ok before abandoning the newbie. I've done a few of these live in things over the last couple years, but doing one in my own village with Liz (my replacement) was very strange. One of the major differences is that in another village, I'm just as out of place as the new volunteer, so I can share in their apprehension and excitement. The only difference is that I have more language and comfort in the culture. In my village, on the other hand, I'm so comfortable and confident that it's hard to think of all the questions and fears the new volunteer might have, but be too overwhelmed to be worrying about just yet. I know where the well, or the best families to eat with, or the nicest villagers all are, but it doesn't always occur to me to show them to the newbie. Though it is also kind of fun to watch Liz and be reminded of what it was like when the village was new to me.

Also, because it's my house and my life for the past two years, and I'm handing it over to her, I can't help but be afraid of how everything reflects on me. Is my house to messy? Do I treat my cats poorly? Is it bad that I can't remember every villagers name (they often go by five different names)? I know she has other things on her mind, but I get really self conscious about things like that. Djimi put it really well when he pointed out that it's kind of like if, in the states, when someone was moving into your old apartment, you not only handed them the keys and maybe a couple pieces of furniture you don't want anymore, you also give them your job, your pets, your friends, your life. I know everyone does things differently but I just can't help but thinking of it as "this is my life and now she's gonna do everything differently and mess it all up!" I know it's not true, but it's hard.

I know Liz will be a great fit in my village. That doesn't make handing over the keys, so to speak, any easier. Most of the time I was there with her, the villagers all just wanted to talk about how awesome I am and how their going to miss me. While this was flattering, and makes me realize how much tomorrow is really going to hurt, it was not good for Liz. So I made a more dedicated than usual effort to only stay the one night. I knew she and the village would get adjusted to eachother much better/faster if I wasn't there. Part of that is that being a female volunteer, she will form some completely different relationships with everyone, and I can't even begin to know how to help her integrate that way. I don't hang out with the women much, so I really don't have and friendships to hand over to her. Meanwhile, I know that my male friends will not all see her as a new me, but rather as a potential girlfriend, which is not ok.

After talking to Liz yesterday, when she passed through on her way back to Hamdy, I know she will be happy there. It already sounds like she's more outgoing than I was, which makes me feel some regret that I wasn't the best volunteer I could have been. Hearing all the little things that she found intimidating, or hilarious, or just amusing really makes me sad that I'm leaving. I don't know what I'm gonna do. But I'll let you all know how it goes.

"We came together, but we will leave here one by one."

2008-02-21T01:43:00.003-05:00

Kurt is gone. He left Sunday night. We gave him an awesome send off (it involved Tenacious D, Particle, and Dragonforce!). I've seen other people leave. I remember last year saying good bye to our sister stage and realizing that most of the people I would be meeting over the next year would have no idea who these people were. Now it's our turn, and it's sadder than I ever imagined.

It could be that with Kurt I've lost my best friend in country, but I really feel like we're at the end now. When we were leaving stage to go to post after swear in, it was me, Alex, Alison, Djimi, Kurt, and Cathy in the car together. Someone (I think it might have been Alex) said something along the lines of "And so ends that chapter." At the time it felt really appropriate. I imagined our car drving away from the training site as being the last shot at the end of an episode of the tv show of our lives or something. You know, really cheesy bullshit like that. But it felt impressive.

If my life consisted of a series of books, I feel like I'm in the last chapter before it's time for the next book. All that's left is to wrap up my work, introduce my replacement in my village, and then there's my travels to get back home. Okay, there might be some other recent developments too. My point is, one of the things that is really scary right now is that I don't really have any inkling of what lies beyond that next title page. There's lots of little plot threads, but none of them show any indication of where they are going. Not to mention the major setting change! This has been my favorite book so far (I see my life as having been 4 books up till), what if the next one totally blows.

I Rule!

2008-02-15T05:24:00.002-05:00

Tech trip was awesome. Exhausting, at times slightly frustrating, but mostly it went really well. In spite of my supervisor, rather than making me feel like a failure, it instead became an awesome cap to my service.

When I came into town on Sunday right before the trip, I learned that I had been played even worse than I thought. Apparently while I was in Senegal, everyone at training (this includes volunteers, training coordinators, and some admin folk) had decided to cancel my trip and just send all the AG trainees to Gotheye for one tech trip. My boss however did not agree and kept working as if there was a tech trip. When I showed up in Niamey talking about the tech trip, it was apparently news to everyone else that it was still going there. My boss basically defeated them all by keeping me in the dark about this alternate plan, because if i had caught wind of it I would have won it for them hands down by just saying no. I hate finding out that I was used in such a fashion. Especially when it put so much stress on me and had me freaking out.

But anyway, I put on the best tech trip I could muster, and feel like I pretty much defeated him. Despite his best efforts to mess up my schedule and add or remove programs left and right at the last minute, I was ready for him. My schedule was flexible and padded enough that I was always able to keep it going smoothly, even if it did mean there was a lot of down time and I was running around like a madman the whole time. But I think that was exactly what the trainees needed. They are pushed so hard up at site that I figured they deserved a more leasurely couple of days. They all seemed to have had a good time. It just annoys me that the only one who really knows what I had to go through to pull this off is the my boss.

Site announcements are also today, and I got to pick my replacement out of the two Zarma girls that visited my post. Both of them I think will be a great fit so it was kind of an arbitrary decision. They also both loved my cats and spoiled them rotten, so I don't have to worry about them anymore.

With all this over, I really feel like I'm done now. The only work I have left to do is to wrap up all my COS paperwork and figure out what I'm doing next. I already have my plane ticket off this continent (Accra, Ghana to London, England) so there's no denying it anymore. I'm leaving. Which was bittersweet to begin with, but has become even more saddening for other reasons. Khala suuru I guess.

Life is messy.

I thought you said we didn't have a final exam?

2008-02-09T00:40:00.000-05:00

Yes I'm back in Niamey already. And i go back to post today. And I'll be back in Niamey tomorrow. And I'll be back to post on Monday. Why all the running back and forth you ask? Well I'll tell you.

One of the major events of training here in Peace Corps Niger is the tech trip. This is where a group of trainees travel out to a volunteer's post and spend a couple days learning about various projects that are going on there and observing things like gardening techniques or animal care methods in a village setting. Well this year they've decided that one of the Agriculture tech trips should take place in my village.

The other half of the Ags will travel up to Gotheye for their trip. Haoua (one of our supervisors) and the Gotheye team have been planning and working hard to pull together what I hear will be an awesome tech trip. The other half, come to me, where my supervisor has not done anything and it's just me, not a team of volunteers. Needless to say I've been a little stressed.

I think my biggest problem has been that this feels like the final exam I was always told we didn't have. My school garden is pretty much a wash this year, through no bodies fault. Since that was the big project I had to show the trainees, it's really disheartening that it's a "failure." I know I shouldn't think of this as presenting my projects, but I do. And the result is there's been a couple moments where it's made me feel like my entire service is a failure. I know that's silly and I'm doing a little better now.

Because I'm the only volunteer working on this, and my boss has done little to nothing to support/assist me in this (hell, just getting information from him is like pulling teeth), I feel like if it is a disappointment then it only reflects badly on me. It's a lot of stress on my head coming at a time where I'm already emotionally agitated. Atleast it'll all be over soon and then I'm done with work.

In other news, Djimi and I went and purchased tickets for the first leg of our COS trip yesterday. We now have tickets to get off this continent on March 28th: Accra to London. w00t

Back in Niger

2008-02-03T02:18:00.000-05:00

I have returned to Niger to find it a different place. Or rather it is the same, but I can't see it the way I used to. I have no motivation desire to spend time in my village, as it seems like that is just waiting around to say goodbye. I hate dragged out good byes. On the other hand I don't really enjoy Niamey as the hostel is full of new volunteers whom I don't really know, nor do I have much incentive to get to know them. I also have a distinct lack of my own private space that is very frustrating. That was the nice thing about Dakar, I had my own room. I was not always forced to be social. I guess it feels like I'm not really in Niger anymore, but I am also not yet in America beginning the transition back there.

News as regards my teeth: I now have a shiny new crown where I once had a horribly twisted tooth. It's very nice and my lips have finally gotten used to feeling it there (they had gotten used to the gap that was there while the crown was being made). Apparently the bone in my jaw that was eaten away by the infection will heal itself, much like a broken arm. I've noticed a little bit of pain in that part of my gums when I smile a lot or if i poke at it, but I attribute that to the healing as no one seems to be concerned.

I also just want to say that Dakar was awesome. Brittany joined me for my second week and we had a wonderful time together. It was very nice to have another Niger volunteer to share the experience with and I'm glad it was her. I think we both have plans to find a way to get back there someday. If for no other reason than all the wonderful art that we want to buy.

But that's over now and so I find myself just sort of biding my time until I leave, which i do with mixed feelings. I head out to my post in a few minutes, where I'll be preparing stuff for the current stage's tech trip next week. I'm kind of annoyed at how little my boss has done to help me plan this but that's really just become par for the course. Atleast once this is done I'll be done with projects.

Pictures? Oh yeah, I've got some of those.

2008-01-16T07:27:00.000-05:00

Just a heads up, do to the obscenely fast internet and the joys of iphoto and picasa working so well together, I have just uploaded not one, not two, but three! albums of photos. Some are repeats and some are not. But this is just to remind you to head on over to http://picasaweb.google.com/tastyfishcreature and check 'em out. Enjoy!

The Current Situation

2008-01-15T13:41:00.000-05:00

Update: I am not currently in Niger. I've been med-evaced to Dakar, Senegal. Fear not, dear readers, it is nothing dire. However about a month ago I noticed an abscess in my gums. Long story short, it was decided I should be sent to Dakar for a second opinion and maybe a root canal. Yesterday the dentist here took some x rays and poked around and determined that one of my teeth (the front one that sticks out) got infected, and that infection traveled into my gums and abscessed. That particular tooth is dead and it's neighbors were in danger of having their roots infected as well. So immediate action was taken.

****Warning, the following description is not for the squeamish****

A small hole was drilled into one of the fillings of that tooth. Next thing I know pressurized puss is squirting at high speed into my mouth through the tooth! It might be one of the most disgusting things ever to happen in my mouth without warning. The dentist also made a small incision in my gum to really clean it out. Even numbed up it was a little painful. I swear he was scraping the bone...and maybe he was. He also stuck a little file up and scraped out all the rotten core of the tooth.

So now I'm sitting here with a hollow tooth acting like a drain for this abscess. So every now and then I get a bit of a salty taste as a little more fluid exudes into my mouth. Gross. Atleast I'm not in any pain. Though when I went to the dentist today to have more stuff squeezed out, he would occaisionally blow air on the tooth to dry it. Man is it a weird feeling to air squirted through a tooth into a pocket in your gums. So weird.

***end grossness***

So the long and short of the situation is that I'm gonna be here in Dakar for atleast two weeks. They have to do a bone graft (artificial composite goo) to fill in the bits of my jaw that the infection dissolved. Then they'll go and fill in the tooth and crown it. But before they can do that I have 8 days of antibiotics to clear up the infection and everything.

The bonus is they've put me up in a decent hotel which features, among other amenities, free fast internet. So I'm catching up on all my downloading, webcomics, and yes...even a little bit of World of Warcraft (I was clean for 2 yrs and 4 days). I feel kind of bad that I'm not getting out and seeing the city more, but a)It's really expensive and they don't give me much per diem and b) it's really nice to have my own room where I can just chill and do my own thing and use the internet. Really this is what I would have wanted out of any vacation I would have taken at this point in my service. Also, there's a volunteer from the Gambia in for stuff, so I have someone to hang out with.

They have, however, threatened to move us to the new med bureau instead. So I might loose internet soon. So I'm going to milk it for all it's worth while I've got it. I think I've got most of my generic web surfing out of the way now and can move on to actual productive things instead of just catching up on websites.

So that's where I'm at. I'll try and get some more posts up while I'm here. Also, btw, I uploaded an album full of giraffe photos to my picasa site, so check em out.

Thanksgiving and Fashion Shows

2007-11-24T03:12:00.000-05:00

There are very few times of year when PCV's can gather in large numbers and not make me want to hurt puppies at some point. Thanksgiving is one of those times. Maybe it's the holiday that makes us get along, or the fact that it's now cold season, or perhaps the joint effort to produce lots of good american food. I'm gonna go with the food. Thanks to some very nice folks working with the US Embassy, the Niamey PCV's were given a turkey this year. An honest to God Butterball flown in from the states. Irikoy Bere. The same folks also provided us with a ham, which made Djimi cry when he ate it. Yeah, we miss good food that much. (As an aside, when I was home for vacation I cried at the first beer I drank stateside. It was a Magic Hat Fat Angel). So this year we were able to have true thanksgiving feast.

On top of those two important and tasty critters, Kurt and I killed a Rabbit that Djimi cooked up, there was a pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, stuffing, someone found or made cranberry sauce, cheesecake, guacamole (on Thanksgiving?!), delicious fresh-baked rolls (Djimi knows bread), and fudge a la Ghengis. It was amazing. I heard that one person did in fact eat so much they ended up throwing it all up. I say it was almost a necessity if you wanted to actually try everything.

Surprisingly enough, Thursday night was actually a big deal for Niger as well. All week they've been hosting this years FIMA event. I'm not sure what the acronym actually stands for but basically it is a week long festival of sorts celebrating African diversity, mostly fashion. Thursday night was the main event: a fashion show featuring world renowned designers from five continents.

It was an incredible event, once it started (all the posters say 8pm, it started at 10:15). There were various musical performances scattered throughout, including Les Nubiennes whom I was very excited to see. But the real feature was the clothing. The designers ranged from practical to purely concept in nature. One of the early displays was from a very interesting African fellow (Cameroon) who uses almost entirely natural materials (i.e. grasses, calabashes, etc.). Apparently his motivation comes from trying to reconnect man and nature. Very tribal in appearance, though the designs were almost like something off a stage show in Vegas. Lots of peacock feathers, elaborate head dresses, and revealing calabash bras.

Some of the other designers were much more conservative, and you could actually see someone wearing one of there designs to a formal event or party. There were some absolutely stunning gowns in particular. There was also one designer from Canada who's designs reminded me very much of the interior of my mom's fiber arts shop. Her designs featured gorgeous felted mittens, scarves, and fluffy hats. Good thing it's cold season.

Altogether it was fantastic. This was the first real fashion show I had attended. I don't think I ever realized how much it is really just another art form than it is really about designing clothes to be worn. The designers play around with all sorts of ideas about how to garb the human form, and practicality is not necessarily a priority at all. But it's not just any human form. Their canvas, in a way, is the hyper idealized form of the model. Super slender, tall, with well defined features. Yes the results are absolutely stunning and a pleasure to look at. But it's not real life. What's unfortunate is how this art has spilled into the pages of magazines telling us how to live our lives and what we should look like. That's like populating a travel guide with, in the place of location photos, impressionist paintings of the destination, but treating them as though they were photos. The travel guide will be gorgeous, but when you actually get to the place you will be disappointed. What you took for real and thus expect to see is not reality.

In keeping with the current topic, it's worth mentioning that I myself was a model in a fashion show a few weeks ago. Kadi is a Nigerien designer here in Niamey who receives great acclaim from the PCV and ex-pat communities. I got roped into being a model as I showed up in town two days prior to the show and Natalie said she was looking for more guys of my build (skinny but not too tall). So I went over and picked out my three outfits (mostly it was just whatever fit and hadn't been taken yet). The theme of the show was pretty much American 1960's. So think Hippy.

My first outfit was all white and I was a little nervous about it as not many people can pull off all white, let alone white guys. But you know what, I was hot! Damn Hot! And that's not my opinion, that's just reiterating all the things I heard that night (hell I still catch people talking about it). I have to say, Kurt and my heads definitely got a bit swollen that night. But who's wouldn't when you spend an entire evening wearing beautiful clothes while people keep telling you how awesome you look. It was a blast and I ended up buying one pair of pants straight off of Kurt's ass. I'll try and track down some pictures from folk. If for no other reason than to give myself the odd self esteem boost.

The Beginning of the End.

2007-11-17T11:01:00.000-05:00

Well, here I am. exactly 4 months to the day until my COS (Close of Service). Tomorrow our COS conference starts and they'll start giving us the run down on all the forms we have to fill out before we can leave, how to say good bye to our villages, and what to do next. So basically, I'm staring down the home stretch. Scary.

People keep asking me if I'm excited to be almost done. Apprehensive would be a better word i think. I'm absolutely ready to go home, but absolutely not ready to leave Niger.

Think of it this way: I've spent the last two years learning a completely foreign language, integrating into a completely different culture, and I'm going to leave now that I'm just getting the hang of it all?! How does that make sense. Especially when the upshot of my competence is that I finally feel like I could actually do some projects that might stick.

But I really do miss home. Yes I may sound like my priorities are skewed but I miss playing video games, and Magic the Gathering. I miss going to pubs and discussing micro brew beers with my friends. I spent a whole car ride yesterday day dreaming about snowboarding. I want to go home.

Some of you know that I was thinking about extending for a little while. The more I think about it though, the only way it makes sense with the reasons behind it, I would have to extend in my village. And if I did that I would have to stay for a whole year ( My village needs me to be replaced if my projects aren't to just collapse). And I'm just not willing to stay for another hot season. After a 2 yr long summer, I need fall and winter!

So I guess come tomorrow I will officially be "on the way out." I've tried to ignore the looming COS date but I think after tomorrow it will be even harder.

A post!? I forgot about those.

2007-10-01T10:15:00.000-04:00

Well, it's been forever since I've posted. It's certainly not cause nothing has happened. Quite the contrary. I could say I've been too busy to post...but that's not really true. I could try and pass off some psycho-babble nonsense about how I'm so well adjusted here now that I don't have a need to share my thoughts and experiences...but that wouldn't really be accurate either. Mostly I think I've just been lazy. I have also found myself less and less inclined to spend lots of time on the intarweb if I can avoid it. Maybe I've actually kicked my need to feel constantly wired into the rest of the world. That's a fun thought.

Anyway, I suppose I should fill you in. I'm not actually looking at my blog while I type this so I'm not really sure when my last post was. I'll just give a rundown in reverse chronology of some of the most significat events of the past few months.

Just finished swear in week. It's been a madhouse. The PC director was in town for that and the combined PC Niger 45th anniversary celebration. This means that everything had to be perfect. It also meant that everyone was running their asses off trying to make sure we presented the ideal face for the director. So much for objective observation. I was seriously contemplating not coming into Niamey this week, but I got roped into doing a musical performance for the 45th with little to no prep time to get it organized. Kurt and Josh and I found a couple of our musical buddies and basically just had a 10 minute jam session. It was what it was. I think it was awful...people keep telling us otherwise.

I've also been horribly sick all week. Worst case of amoebas ever. I've been finished with the main meds for two days now and I still have diarhea. They say you're not a true Peace Corps volunteer until you've crapped your pants. Well you can count me in those ranks now.

Last week I went to a training session at the ICRISAT research center with my school teacher and several other volunteers and their counterparts. It was very interesting and will hopefully help my teacher and I when we try and set up a school market garden in the comming months. Kudos to Danielle for all the work and effort she put into it.

Let's see...what else... OH YEAH! I went to that magical place: America! I went home for about 3 weeks in August for a couple of weddings. The trip really deserves its own post as it was very interesting to go back into that society after my time here. Suffice to say for now that I did have reverse culture shock (first three days home were in Manhattan) and that it was wonderful to be back visiting with friends and family. America is also freezing. Even in August. It was glorious.

Prior to my trip to America I'm not sure what I have or have not talked about. If I find any gaps I'll be sure and fill you in. In the meantime I'll try and type out some discussions of what it was like to be home and what it's like to be back here now. Bizzare and perfectly normal are both apt descriptors. I'm sure it'll make more sense later.

Hold on, for one more day.

2007-07-25T03:19:00.000-04:00

Just a quick post now as I'm about to head back to the bush (I really should start posting when I get in rather than just before I leave). Things are actually going pretty well. My Windi Bundu trees all came up and will soon be ready for planting, though none of my namari or acacia senegal trees worked out. Back to the books to figure out what we did wrong. Atleast, for the most part, my school teacher and I are looking at this as a learning experience so that either later this year or even after I leave, they'll have a better idea of how to pull off this type of project.

Otherwise, I'm actually feeling pretty good. Knowing that I'm going home for 3 weeks on Aug 15th really helps, though it is making me a little antsy at post. However, the other night I went over to my teacher's house and hung out for like 4 hours drinking tea and chatting. We had an awsome conversation that included religion, government, the US election, the state of the world, how developement works in Niger (or doesn't), and lots of other fairly heavy topics. It was actually really awsome. It was one of those conversations where I saw that he had so much kokari and I am only just now really comfortable living here that it almost makes me want to extend as I feel I could really impliment some good projects now. Almost.

Anyway, I have to head out now but as one final note I have to do a favor for a friend of mine. Those of you who played World of Warcraft with me back home and were in the guild Nightmare Company, this message is for you. Last week Harkhana's 17 yr old daughter died, supposedly she had a seizure in the night and suffocated. I can't imagine how hard things must be for Hark right now. She asked me if I could use my blog to spread the word to all the former NC folk and I said I would. If you would like to send her your condolences I have her email address and will give it at request (don't want to post it here so she won't get spammed). No matter how much I start to think it sucks being here, Hark... my heart goes out to you.

Apathetic in NIger

2007-07-02T07:18:00.000-04:00

Seems like it's been forever since I made a post. Oh right. It has. Well I suppose I should start with a few updates on what I'm doing then.

The grain bank is funded, filled, and running! What's more, the villagers are actually doing a good job on the book keeping and have even taken some of the income so far and restocked the bank once. And they pretty much did all this without me telling them to. Color me impressed.

I've also started a tree nursery with the school teacher. We've planted about 350 trees, mostly Meringa along with some gum arabic and namari. School isn't in session anymore though so it's just me and him doing all the work. But if we are successful here we're going to look for funding to expand into a full garden/nursery for the school in cold season. My goal is to get a solid meringa plantation running as a)meringa leaves are delicious and b) it's a good source of income for the school kids.

Other than that life continues as usual. Though I have managed to start pulling longer stints in the bush. Though in a way, it kinda feels like the first few months of service all over again. I once again find myself counting down hours until I can go to bed and taking long naps just to kill part of the day. While I'm glad I'm able to stay out for a week at time again, that much time also feels like eternity.

Part of it I think is just due to the fact that I'm going home for a visit in a month and half. I plan on bringing back several things like my computer movies that I know will make my last few months that much more bearable, even if they are only things I'll use in Niamey. I'm also excited to see my friends and family and once again be able to participate in my old hobbies with other people who are just as enthusiastic as I am. Even when I do get doses of gaming here, it's not with other gamers and so it's just not the same.

Also, getting the grain bank up and running was a shift. All of a sudden one of the major things that kept me from giving in to frustrations and just going home was finished. Now I'm just kind of apathetic. Niger stopped being exciting a long time ago. Now I just get by as I would anywhere else...except that even just getting by is way less convenient or pleasurable than it would be if I was home.

Being in Niamey isn't really any better. Hanging out with other volunteers is fun, but it's mostly all the same conversations complaining about Niger or musing about life lessons we've learned. There's not much to do in Niamey aside from eat, drink, and chat.

Back home I was part of so many different communities. I had my family, my friends from school, my guild in World of Warcraft, and the crew I played Magic with. There was some overlap but most importantly I had variety in the groups I hung out with and had conversations with. I almost never talked about the same things with my family that I would get so heated about with my Magic group. It kept things fresh and enjoyable.

Here I basically have two groups. Other PCV's are nice because we're all going through the same thing...but I'm kind of tired of the bitterness and apathy or alternative enthusiasm and idealism. Same conversations over and over and over, and most of them aren't terribly uplifting or distracting.

On the other hand, it doesn't matter how integrated I get, I am just not going to be able to relate to Nigeriens the way I do to other Westerners. And frankly arguing over how long it takes to ride a bike to the next town, or joking about marrying the chief's 5yr old daughter and taking his baby son to America got old about 15 months ago. This I think goes a long way toward my feeling of just biding my time. For the most part, Peace Corps just isn't terribly exciting anymore...plus the climate sucks.

Oh well. I get by. I get through the days. Hopefully my visit to America will refresh me. Then my friend Kat is going to come visit. After that is my COS conference and then there's only like 3 months left. Who knows, maybe something exciting will happen in the mean time and I'll have renewed enthusiasm for this whole endeavor.

Wake up.

2007-05-27T06:04:00.000-04:00

In America we are all about ideals. Everyone should be treated equally. Teenagers should practice abstinence. Every country should have a shot at democratic government. This is fine, without ideals like this, where would we find the drive to change things, to improve. Visions of how we think things should be drive progress. It can be dangerous, however, when one becomes so focused on ideals and how things should be that you become unable to function in reality.

One of the many reasons I think people join Peace Corps is to see the real world. It's a chance to get a taste of how things are outside of the US. When we leave for our respective host countries we have to accept that while it's important to hold to our ideals...we will be disappointed, again and again and again. Nothing out here is the way it should be, according to my western values. Even aside from the big things like human rights, or corruption, there are many simple concepts of business or communication that just aren't here and make life more inconvenient.

One such problem is that of change. No body here ever has any change. More than once I have gotten out of a taxi and tried to pay my 200 fcfa fair with a 1000 bill or even just a 500 coin and the cab driver simply has no change. This is not his problem. It is my problem. If I want change back, I have to now wander up to random vendors (if there are any nearby) and get change, or else just eat the difference. Some taxi drivers will accept the loss of 50 fcfa or something if you don't have enough small change, but most will make you break a large bill.

This would not fly in America. But that's the way it is here and so I accept it. I don't like it, but I move on. On the other hand, I observe people who are too locked into the mindset of how things should be. Most of the time their ideas are perfectly logical and reasonable, such as having enough change before your start your day as a cab driver. But when it doesn't work that way it just drives them up a wall. And little things like this add up until they just break down and can't deal with anything anymore.

This is just one example of not seeing the way things really are for being hung up on ideals. Another prime example i think is our president, George W. Bush. He is so focused on his mission of establishing democracy in Iraq (because democracy is the ideal government and so everyone should want and have it), that he blinds himself to the real situation. He doesn't want to hear about another list of casualties, or another platoon forced to retreat, let alone the idea that maybe the people don't want our form of government. Inconceivable!

It's the same thing with the restrictions on sex ed. Yes we should preach abstinence, but we should also be aware of how the world is and what teens are doing and address that as well. My point is that while it is good to have an idea of how things should work, you still have to work within the structure of how things really are. You cannot change the system by ignoring it. You cannot win a game by completely ignoring the rules. If you do that you are no longer playing the game and thus cannot affect it's results. Your just playing with yourself.

Always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. Dream of an ideal world, but still live in the real world.

Been in Benin

2007-05-20T16:10:00.000-04:00

Wow, I definitely needed that vacation. Benin was amazing. I have a whole bunch of pictures I will try and get up at some point along with pics from Pangea. I don't really have the energy to do so right now (the bureau computers limits us to using the web up loader on Picasa so I can only upload 5 pics at a time).

First of all I have to say that since joining the Peace corps I feel like I have been constantly doing things that really prove to me my own Independence. In this case, because Jimmie, Alison, and Rachel went down a week ahead, I was setting out by bus, to visit the far side of a completely foreign country, where they don't speak any language I have more than a rudimentary grasp of. Somehow I had to the guts to do this and meet the others on the beach in Grand Popo. It was quite amazing to really show myself that I really can do anything that I want.

On the language note, no body in Benin speaks Zarma. Or at least, it's not widespread. In the North, they speak Dendi, which is similar, and there are lots of Zarmas in Cotanu and other places as they all travel there on exode in search of money. But basically I had to completely rely on my french. Which is shitty. That said, I was actually quite surprised at how fast it started coming back, and how far I could actually get with it. Very exciting.

To go into complete detail of my vacation would take a while, so I'll just give you guys a brief rundown of some of the things I did:

Drumming with Rastas on the beach.
Playing in the waves in the ocean (it was too rough to really swim).
Had the most delicious sole (and possibly fish in general) I have ever had.
Visited a voodoo python temple in Ouidha.
Went to a Jazz bar in Cotanu (they actually have live music there...unlike in Niamey).
Went to a Bob Marley Day festival in Dassa with Benin volunteers.
Hiking in Dassa (they actually have real hills and lush forests)
Went to an entire market in Parakou dedicated to millet beer.

All in all the whole trip was wonderful and much needed. Lots of wonderful new experiences and a new found sense of my Independence. But now I'm getting surprisingly sleepy so I'll sign off and promise to write more in a day or two and get some pictures up.

voodoo

Where Religion Breaks Down

2007-05-05T07:00:00.000-04:00

When you are a subsistence farmer in one of the harshest environments a person can live in, a certain amount of fatalism is almost crucial. There are simply too many elements beyond your control that deeply affect your life: amount of rain, timing of rain, pests, family members dying and being born, market prices. With all these challenges it’s not surprising that the people here in Niger very much count on God to bring them everything they need, or to take things as they see fit.

This way of thinking works fine for them and is a powerful coping mechanism for the hardships they face. If a child dies, they simply say it was God’s will and move on. If they don’t have enough food for the year, they still maintain a positive attitude as they simply say that God will bring them food. On the other hand, this mindset can be very frustrating for volunteers as it’s our job to try and teach them to help themselves. Trying to persuade them that some of these things are in fact within their control, or at least their influence, is really a constant battle for us.

I have nothing against faith. In fact, in a discussion with another volunteer, I realized that I do in fact have faith, just not in any particular religious beliefs (but that’s a discussion for another time). Faith keeps us going. However, at a certain point, this fatalistic approach to faith simply breaks down. Simply counting on God or another power to “make it better” will only get you so far. In some ways, I really fear that it breeds laziness.

The other day I had a meeting with my villagers about the cereal bank. Now, before the money arrived, my villagers donated their time, energy, and any resources available to build the basic structure for the magazine and even to provide an initial fifteen sacks of millet. This was all part of what they agreed to contribute for the requisite 25% village contribution we needed to get funding. This is a huge amount for a poor village, but they did it willingly because they seemed to understand the concept that they had to put something in to get something out. “Irikoy ne tun, Ay ma ni ga.”(God said get up so I can help you).

Meanwhile, I’ve been running back and forth to Niamey, thus incurring scorn for not staying at post and spending my own money on bush taxi fair and also cell phone credit calling various counterparts. Not to mention battling with the festering, tangled swamp that is bureaucracy trying to get the funding. The problem is that none of this happened in sight of my villagers, nor can they really comprehend it as hard work if I explain it to them.

So I suddenly show up with money. Irikoy bere! (God is big!) It seems to me that in most of their minds, god brought this money with which to buy food. And since we have money now, there is no need for them to donate time, labor, and resources. Now they can get paid for their efforts. They can also afford to just agree to the mason’s outrageous price. If the money runs out before we buy food, well then God will bring more. Through me. Clearly God brought me to the village to bring them this grain bank. It certainly hasn’t come about through anyone’s efforts, not even their own.

This is where they start to shoot themselves in their own foot with their religion. Because they praise God as having brought this, then they can’t take ownership of it, which is necessary to keep it going. But even more frustrating is fact that right after the meeting where I explained how I worked to bring this money and now we can continue to work on it, a depressingly large number of villagers approached me and asked me for money to buy food, or cigarettes, or cola nuts.

It’s depressing and frustrating to see the villagers disregard all the work that we, not just I, have done and simply turn around and start looking for the next hand out. We’re not even finished with this project. It makes me pessimistic about how much they can really help themselves without some deeper mental and cultural shift taking place first, and I don’t see that happening until they have a successful project and actually take credit for it. It’s difficult situation.

Music, Music, Music!

2007-05-05T06:43:00.000-04:00

Wow, it's been one hell of an awsome week. I would say this has probably been one of the best weeks of my entire service (I seem to be saying things like that a lot lately).

Basically, the Pangea music program has been amazing. I've heard, seen, done so many new and awsome things. I met lots of really cool people, including just about every big name music artist in Niger. Also it was a whole week hanging out with some awsome fellow volunteers.

One of the things that happened everymorning was that Sheena would lead a yoga class. Now, I've never been particularly enticed by yoga, especially all the "harnessing your energy" type of mumbo jumbo. So the first day I just drank my coffee and watched. But the second morning I figured, what the hell. Wow. I tell ya what wow! I can't remember the last time I gave my body such a beating. It felt amazing. I'm sold. My body hurts all over and I love it.

Though yoga's definately not the only reason for my soreness. Just about every night, some kids from the local schools would come to hear some of the artists we invited to come play. Now, concerts here are not just to sit and watch, they are participatory. You are expected to get out there and dance. And so we did. Kurt and I were out there everynight learning new dances from the kids and trying to keep up. It was freaking exhausting. But it was awsome to feel so included by the kids. They were so thrilled to have us out there with them and they showered us with praise for our efforts after the concerts. I'll try to post some pictures later.

Between yoga and dancing, there was lots of music to be played. We would jam with the random people floating around all the time. It was great when we'd get upwards of five musicians all sitting around jamming on drums, guitars, banjo, and traditional instruments too boot. We also taught some classes on western instruments (compared to traditional counterparts) and American styles of music. At one point at the end of Kelli's pop music class, she put on Metallica - Enter Sandman and Kurt, Kelli, and I demonstrated head banging and moshing. They aren't acquainted with metal here in Niger, so it was a trip for them. Afterward one of the locals asked me if it was a traditional sacred dance in America. To them it probably looked like one of there spirit dances where people get posessed. So I tried to explain white middle class teen angst to them. I don't think they got it.

I also got to watch a guy rock out to Metallica on his Goge (traditional one string violin) during my class comparing it to modern violin. And it sounded good. It was crazy.

I can't even begin to explain all the awsome things about this week. I'm exhausted and ready for a rest, but I definately plan to spend more time hanging out at the CFPM when I'm in Niamey. I'll try and upload some pictures from this week at some point.

Pangea

2007-05-01T11:29:00.000-04:00

It's been an amazing week already, and it's only Tuesday! This week I have been participating in the Pangea music program that Peace Corps put together in conjunction with the CFPM (Centre some french words Music). It's called Pangea because it's the idea that we're bringing the continents back together through the universal languages of music and dance. Kind of cheesy, I know. Don't ask me, I'm just helping.

For the most part the idea of music for entertainment isn't really widespread in Niger. Most of the traditional musics are based in spiritual rites and any given rhythm or melody is supposed to summon a specific spirit. Well, when Islam came they kind of snuffed out Animism and much of the music. There are still many musicians but making it as a professional musician in Niger is very hard. Especially trying to introduce other influences such as blues, jazz, or reggae.

The CFPM is the main music centre in Niamey. They have a recording studio and basically just provide a place for musicians to hang out and play and share. It's facilities are fairly modest but it is still one of the most amazing places I've ever been. It's great to watch random people who all love music, just sit down and start jamming with instruments both modern and traditional. The atmosphere is one of inclusion and sharing. I have learned so much just from hanging out there with my guitar.

So I'm staying there all week to help out with Pangaea, really the brainchild of Ginger, one of our volunteers. We've scheduled many classes being taught by both PCV's and Nigeriens. I myself am doing sessions comparing the Goje (traditional one stringed viol) and molo (one or two stringed lute) to the modern violin and guitar respectively. Kurt and I are also doing a session later in the week on American folk music. Mostly, so far, we've just been hanging out and learning reggae and blues from real Rastas. It's awesome.

Last night, several of the schools brought their students and we were going to have a Gormantche dance group come and teach us some dances. But they didn't show up so instead we ended up with some of the local musicians playing calabash, drum, and flute and all the kids taught us how to dance, Africa style. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. The kids were totally encouraging. The one who took me under his wing was even named Ali (my Nigerien name). Some of those kids can really move.

There's this one guy who, every time Kurt and I have our instruments out, gets us started playing the same 4 chord reggae sequence. Initially it's just the three of us playing that, until he starts adding a little intro part. Once Kurt and I know what we're doing, and are well on the road to killing our hands, he'll start to improvise over our chords. Gradually more and more musicians will come by until we've got a full on jam session. Today, one of the main guitarists there basically took me under his wing and starting showing me things. Eventually (cause he was only speaking French and mine is not great) I realized he was showing me the A minor pentatonic scale. Well I know of it and knew it's shape, but hadn't really been practicing. But he showed me some licks to play over the reggae chords and it was like something clicked. I finally started to understand some of the basics of guitar solos. Despite not really speaking each other's languages he taught me a ton, and I learned even more just from connections I made to stuff I already knew. I love music!

It's events like these that make me love it here. Last night with the dancing...that's what I imagined Peace Corps to be like. I've heard that "as hard as your first year in PC is, that's how awesome your second will be." So far I would say that's the case. All of my top Peace Corps experiences have been in the past couple of months: the trip to Kirtachi, Easter in Gotheye,
live-in with one of the newbies in Gotheye, Pangaea, even just the last few months at post. I feel like I've finally gotten to see the real Peace Corps experience. Yes I have my frustrations with the way things are run and the difficulties they cause, but I'm also starting to really have fun here, when I'm not dying of the heat.

Frustrations

2007-04-29T07:41:00.000-04:00

Corruption is frightening in it's pervasiveness. The media has us trained to think of it as primarily a problem in the upper echelons of society, a sin of the top dogs. Clearly, a simple cleaning of house and refurnishing with honest everyday folk will solve the problem. We then have the nerve to act shocked when our new everyman government, board, or committee behaves in the same manner. I now realize that this behavior is not restricted to the bourgeoisie but that, given the opportunity, even people on the bottom have come to see greed and "skimming off the top" to be acceptable practices.

On Wednesday I received a check from Rotary for my cereal bank project. On Thursday I cashed said check and met with my counterpart and his brother to go and purchase materials for roofing the building. We agreed that it would be best for me to wait in the car while he went and negotiated and that I would join them after the price had been settled. This was fine and is the best way for me to buy anything expensive here. Nigeriens see a white Anasara and immediately assume I am loaded and so they jack up the price to unreasonable heights. It's very frustrating due to the fact that compared to them, I do have quite a bit of money, but compared to most NGO workers I have nothing.

Now, I was thoroughly excited to have the funding and to be moving on the project again. It's nice to be doing work and I felt like I was finally showing my villagers that I was there to do something other than just sit around and play guitar. But my enthusiasm has already been nearly crushed and replaced with bitterness and frustration.

I am living many thousands of miles away from everything I know: my home, my family, my culture, my entire lifestyle. I am making enough to get by but I will bank nothing from this experience. I have waded through the swamp of bureaucratic red tape to get this money so that my village can have a renewable stockpile of FOOD! That most basic and immediate of human needs!

I have been constantly blown away by my villagers effort. They have amazed me by their desire to actually improve their lives. They have trusted me to deliver money with which to buy food and gone ahead and donated time, effort, and even a starting stock of food, all of which they can't really afford to do. They have been welcoming, encouraging, and supportive. I love my villagers.

But I cannot help but be disgusted by the fact that as soon as the money appears I am seeing the signs of this opportunistic mentality that breeds corruption in the wealthier classes. So far it has not been ridiculous, but everyone has their subtle way of asking for a handout. It may be asking for a reimbursement for gas or phone credit, or simpling upping their price, but it's there. It's come to my attention that some of the people I'm working with fully expect part of the money we've received to go to me as compensation for my effort. It is frightening and explains so much about the situation I see in this country.

I meant what I said when I said I love my villagers. I do. And I want to help them. I want to see this grain bank succeed. But it will not succeed if I simply control the money entirely and only control this skimming on my own. They have to figure out on their own that enterprises cannot work like this. The mentality here is that it doesn't matter what the situation is, if you put your hand in you deserve to be compensated. This is why they are baffled whenever I turn down compensation for a days labor for another project that has come through, or why I am eager to simply lend a helping hand carrying sacks of millet even when it's clear there is nothing in it for me.

I know that I sound bitter, but mostly I'm just annoyed. There is no concept of long term in this culture. If you have enough food for right now, you can spend all your money on a cell phone no problem. If asked what about buying food for next year the response is simply "God will bring the food." Thus, if more money than they can really comprehend comes to them, it's totally OK to skim off the top even if it means we won't have any money left at the end to buy millet. Unfortunately, this is a cultural thing, and not something that I am going to change in my two years. But hopefully, even if the grain bank does fail, I can help them to learn from the experience and see where they made the mistakes. Perhaps by doing this I can feel that the money, effort, and frustration were still worth it because it will make future projects that much more effective.

If just one person, even a child, learns from this experience, I will be happy.

Back From the Bush Again

2007-04-23T11:12:00.000-04:00

Whew. That was a better stretch in the bush than I've had in a while. The last few months have just felt like I was always away from post for this reason or that with the odd two or three day break. It was definately nice to have some quiet time away from the hustle and bustle of Niamey. I find the times that I get most frustrated with being here is when I'm in Niamey. When I thought of all the challenges I would have to face in the Peace Corps, I never thought that the things that would make me want to go home would be the PC Bureau itself and other PCV's. Funny how life is never what you expect.

Unfortunatley, to do the kind of work PC seems to encourage us to do, we have to leave our posts to slog through the mire of beaurocracy. This frustration compounded by the local infrustructure's own eccentricities. It's seriously frustrating and it hurts to watch it destroy the moral of so many otherwise enthusiastic and happy PCV's. It doesn't help that there are also many PCV's who are definately not happy here and yet refuse to go home out of somekind of stubbornness. Instead they piss and moan and make things unpleasant for everyone else.

So this past week and a half have been very nice. I got back into the swing of reading and playing guitar. I think it also helped just to reaffirm with my villagers that I am, in fact, there. It was also nice to have alone reflection time again. The chance to just be, not do anything but just exist and contemplate that existance, is one of the things about peace corps that I think has most changed me. And it's something I had not had much opportunity for lately. So, I've started walking down to the river every evening to watch the sunset. I've also been writing a lot lately, particularly poetry. Getting that part of my brain back into gear has been a difficulty my friends have heard all about.

Mostly though, nearly two weeks without having to report to anyone at the bureau, or wrestle with poorly planned office hours, or just the challenge of getting people to do the things they said they'd do, was very nice. It made me happy to be in Niger again. Well, if not happy than atleast not actively wanting to go home. That's been hard for a lot of us lately, it seems.

Sometimes, when I'm just chatting with my friends here, it's hard not to get sucked into the "what the hell are we doing here?" thought process. From there, you start to think of reasons why you should stay vs go home. Here is the trap that I have found. If you start counting all the things you miss and enjoy about home, or that are just convenient and pleasent, then you will never run out of reasons and you will go home. I've decided that I'm only going to ET not because I have things I would rather be doing, but if there are things that bother me so much here that they make me want to not be a part of Peace Corps anymore. Some days that's actually not so hard, but most of the time, when I think about it like that, I feel pretty good.

On the bright side, I have been told that I will get money for my cereal bank in the next few days. It really couldn't have been more in the nick of time as rainy season is just around the corner, and I need to get a roof on that building. Hopefully this post doesn't jinx that, as I don't actively have the check in my hands yet. But, it should happen... in ch'allah.

Another Quickie

2007-04-09T17:00:00.000-04:00

Wow, I have to say this has probably been one of, if not the, best week I've had in Peace Corps. It makes me a little bit sad to note that none of it was spent in my village. But between the Kirtachi trip and spending Easter in Gotheye I have not had a more rewarding, challenging, or restful experience here. Kirtachi was great because it was a challenge that I actually enjoyed, instead of a challenge that just pissed me off. Gotheye was great because it felt like the first real "weekend" I've had in ages.

As a PCV, I am more or less on the job 24/7. Even when I'm at a bar in Niamey, for example, I don't stop being a PCV. I still get into random discussions with random Nigeriens about Niger, or America, or whatever. I could plan to go out for a nice meal and end up teaching someone about AIDS. You just can't turn that shit off. So it was very nice to spend Easter weekend with all of my closest friends in country, and actually not have to be a PCV for a while. We basically sat around the hostel, with just enough clothes to be decent (by American standards), and didn't leave for the entire day of Easter. The only Zarma I had to speak was to the guardian. In addition to being a good refresher to reawaken me to what all I do do here, aside from projects that require funding, I also felt more connected to some of my fellow pcv's than I had in a good long while.

Suffice it to say, it has been a good week and I am in a very happy place as I return to my village. Also, I have uploaded some pics to my photo albums from Easter. Not many, but their fun. You can find them in the PC Niger Album. I've also gone through an added captions to all the pictures I uploaded last week of both the trip to Kirtachi and My Village. Enjoy!

More Audio

2007-04-06T17:53:00.000-04:00

Just a brief note that there are now two new audio blogs on Djimi's blog that include yours truly. So listen and enjoy.

Well, what now?

2007-04-05T18:32:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned last time, I was planning on traveling down to Kirtachi again to bring materials to our Young Girl Scholarship student. It was supposed to be May and I, plus I was trying to convince Jimmie or Kurt to come with us. Well, Kurt and Jimmie are lame, and May got sick. So it was just me, all alone, to get the job done.

Let me start by saying that I feel that this trip has been my quintessential Peace Corps experience. You'll see why in a bit, but I really don't feel like I've done anything, or will do anything, that better matches what I was expecting when I signed on, or feels more like the pinnacle of my personal independance. It was an awsome, challenging, wonderfully rewarding trip.

In a nutshell, I rode a bush taxi 60km, then took a boat another 40k down the Niger river (5hours with no shelter from the sun), and walked another 3k on foot, just to deliver schoolbooks to a young girl in the African Bush. I have a hard time imagining how I'm going to top that.

So anyway, the trip itself. It started off fairly uninterestingly, like anything trip back to post or wherever. May and I woke early Tuesday morning, packed everything up, and headed to the Say Tessum (bush taxi station) to get a car. It didn't take too long for the car to fill up, so that was easy. And the hour or so ride was fairly uneventful, I was even somewhat comfortable. Mostly in bush taxis these days, I just kind of pass out once I'm suitably wedged in. It's quite easy when you don't actually have to support any part of your body. It's like being back in the womb.

In Say, we went to the inspection (the headquarters for the school district basically) and inquired about Fati, the scholarship recipient who had transfered to Say. We had told her to meet us there that day so we could give her the books and money and set up tutors and all that. But May was sick so we didn't stay long before we went back to her house. The school teachers also told me about the boats that left for Kirtachi and said I should go down to the river around noon, so I wasn't able to make sure Fati got her books.

I wandered down to the river front at the appropriate time, and was dissappointed to see that the boats, while the moto kind, did not have a canopy. Luckily, the dust is so rediculous right now that the sun was not actually too bad. Though rather than wait in the boat under the sun, I was told to go and wait under a mango tree until it was time to leave.

There were a bunch of men under the tree and they all knew about the Peace Corps and started talking about all the old Kirtachi region volunteers. Apparently many of them used to go through Say to go to the hostel in Kirtachi. It was actually a lot of fun hanging out with them. One of them was a guardian or something for the hostel and he seemed to know all the old volunteers and knew all the PC drivers and such.

Anyway, the boat finally left about 1pm...more or less the hottest part of the day. Once we were underway, however, there was a decent breeze since we were on the river. Promptly after setting off, I heard some commotion in the back and when I turned around...there was a sheep in the middle of the river swimming toward the shore. Apparently it had not been tied up and so jumped out of the moving boat, forcing us to loop around again and fish it out.

The river was absolutely glorious...for about the first 2 hours. I took several pictures (all uploaded to a new album in picasa) of the passing landscape. Some of the river side villages looked awsome. Part of me wished I had been posted there. There was actually grass, and lots of trees, and also, of course, the river.

After a while though, I got sick of sitting on a 4x4 bench in the sun and I started to suffer. This was eased somewhat by the fact that there was a guy selling hari yeno(cold water) and kossams (yogurt in a bag) in the boat. Also people were really good about sharing any food and stuff. The boat was overall a pleasant journey, especially once I shifted to sit on some sacks of millet instead of the bench.

After the 5hr boat ride, it was only a short walk to Kirtachi itself. I still find it kind of an amazing accomplishment that I, all on my own, was able to travel down an African river, to a village I had only been to once before, where no one speeks any English, alteast 40km from another American, with no cellphone service, and have them provide me with a bed, food, and water to drink and bathe. On top of this I was able to, in a local language which I have barely been speaking a year, carryout a meeting where I negotiated an arrangement for tutors for a young school girl and manage all the financial decisions involved. Like I said before, I really don't see myself having a more stereotypical Peace Corps experience than this.

Kirtachi itself was also awsome. It is gorgeous down there, as you can see from some of the pictures I've posted. It's green. There are trees. There's water. There's sandy beaches. I wish I could have been posted down there. The people were also amazingly nice and thankful. They seemed to actually understand Peace Corps and why we were there. Part of me likes to attribute that to the fact that they are so far from all the NGO/AID work that happens closer to the big cities.

After the meeting I had Wednesday morning with the school teacher getting everything set up, I went and hung out in the market for a while. Mostly I just hung out under a shade hangar until there was a car ready to go. This is the truck I took back. I was riding in the front, squished in with two fat alhajia's (large bitchy women). For the 80km of the laterite road, this was not a pleasant ride. The road was such we had to slowly maneuver around dips and bumps and trees and such. It took us about 5 hours to finally get to Niamey. While I was able to get back to Niamey in one day, I think in the future I will opt to take the boat in the evening after market and just spend the night in Say.

Part of me looks at this experience and how thankful the people were and I am reminded that Peace Corps can do good things. I feel good and want to do more small scale helpful things. On the other hand, part of me feels like anything else I do is going to be frustrating and discouraging and not do any good anyway and I should just walk away with this one highlight awsome experience.

I would say most of us have probably hit a similar mid service hump. I'll just have to seek out more of these fulfilling experiences.

BTW, there's some more pictures posted in my picasa albums.

How hot is it?

2007-03-29T09:36:00.000-04:00

I cannot emphasize how good it felt to be back in the village after 4 weeks out. For one thing, my zarma was going to shit. After just 4 days back in the bush, I had to resolve an issue concerning a table that didn't exist at the niamey hostel and I felt infinitely more comfortable discussing it with the hostel employees. I also got some good quality time with my guitar which is always nice.

The down side is it's hot season. Just in case I didn't make it entirely clear last year (it still wierds me out that I can talk about last year and still be talking about a time when I was here) I will now elaborate some more. Hot season is hell come to earth. After about 1pm I just try to find somewhere to lie down where the sweat doesn't pool too much. Sometimes...I can sit still long enough to not sweat. Then I inhale and every poor does it's best Old Faithful impersonation. It is so hot that I can leave a cup of water in the shade and make hot tea. I shit you not. At night, it's only bearable because the sun isn't adding it's death rays. And hot season is just getting started.

Enough of that though. Two days ago, I went to Kirtachi with some team mates in search of our elusive candidate for the Young Girl Scolorship program. Apparently the volunteers from the old Kirtachi cluster had agreed to sponsor one of the girls there. Then they all COSed, Peace Corps closed the region, and so we stopped sending money and supplies to her. Well Kathryn was good enough to track down some information and we shuffled our shuttles so that we could take a bureau car down the 80km of laterite road instead of a bush taxi.

Turns out there are two girls we are sponsering. And the amazingly helpful bureau folk had mixed up the information so we had brought the wrong books for the one we were looking for. Luckily, one of the two is actually going to school in Say, which makes things very much easier since May is posted there. The one who is still in Kirtachi, however, May and I have to go back next week to bring her the proper books and the funds and to search for tutors for her. It should be exciting since this time we won't have a bureau car or Kathryn's french. We're going to try taking a boat from Say, spend the night down there, and hopefully get through all the official stuff with just Zarma. Should be an adventure. I'm trying to convince Djimi to come too.

Some amusing things that happened on the trip down though:

The bureau decided to activate the Emergency Action Plan and issue a standfast order. It was just a test, but it was still amusing that for fully half of our team our response was "ok, we're gonna head 80k further into the bush instead to where there's no cell reception. We'll text when we come back though." Still, we were in a bureau car, and not planning on spending more than a couple hours out of service so it all worked out.

We saw several dust devils, one of which was nearly a full on twister. It definately picked up a piece of some sort of housing and threw it into the air.

We saw the biggest termite mount ever.

So that's the news for now. Also, as always, Google is awsome. I have borrowed a digital camera and have started uploading images to Picasa on my Gmail account. If you go to http://picasaweb.google.com/tastyfishcreature you should be able to see all my public photos. Enjoy!

La La Lala

2007-03-21T04:00:00.000-04:00

I finally get to head back to post tomorrow. I've been here in Niamey for longer than I really care for. I had been hoping to make a short stint in the village before swear in, but there was just too much to get done before the barbeque and GAD and whatnot.

Speaking of which. The BBQ went quite well I think. This year we decided to have an alternate GAD auction at the BBQ with all the less culturally appropriate items or services that really only PCV's would bid on. We had also planned to include the talent portion of GAD in this, narrowing the real GAD down to just three acts, one of which was me and Kurt! I think this turned out to be a little overambitious. Most people either didn't pay any attention, or started getting restless and demanding we turn the music back on. So much for that plan. Aside from a couple altercations, once we gave up on the auction and entertainment and resumed bad rap booty music, the masses were appeased and it was good.

Incidentally, GAD raised over 2,000,000 FCFA this time 'round. That's a lot of broke PCV's.

I kept trying to leave this week, instead of waiting for Danielle's installation car today, but things just kept coming up. Monday dentist appointment (turns out my teeth are basically dissolving in my mouth...and not slowly. Atleast my gums are good) Tuesday I was supposed to go out to Kirtachi and find this young girl scholar that used to be our cluster's responsibility, but rather than bush taxi out and maybe spend the night, we rearranged our shuttles so we can take a bureau car. Wednesday was hostel work. And now it's today. But now I get to go home! God is big!

All this week, new volunteers are getting installed. They all seem very chipper and excited to get to post. They seem like a very good group and I am happy to welcome them into the Peace Corps family.

Looks like this'll be a short post as I can't seem to think of anything else to say at the moment. There's a new podcast on Djimi's blog featuring me and one of the new volunteers so go check it out. Kala tonton

Trainings and Tuaregs

2007-03-07T02:03:00.000-05:00

Let's see how much time I can spend away from post this month. I have so much going on lately it's crazy. That seems to be how it is in Peace Corps. Sit on my ass for a month and then OMG WTF I have no time to do anything! Kala Suuru.

So last week I left my village three days earlier than planned to go and do a site visit up in Gotheye. Some of their volunteers were out travelling so they didn't have enough to go and help transition all of their newbies. I had nothing better to do so I got tapped to go help. It was actually quite enjoyable to spend a couple days with other volunteers not in the hostel. The difference between volunteer interaction in the bush vs in the hostels is in a word, profound. In the bush we pontificate the many facets of the Peace Corps experience. We contemplate our own spiritual growth and the effect we have in the grand scheme of things. In the hostels we revert to bitter, slightly crazy, often drunken, monkeys. It's not really as severe as that, but it gives you an idea of the incredible span of the schism.

So anyway, I got to spend some time in the bush with Brittany, the new Gotheye volunteer I did live in with. It was refreshing to see the outlook of a new volunteer. And sharing some of my own experiences and wisdom kinda helped me adjust my perspective on the coming year. Though it was somewhat thrilling and unsettling when I would start a story and she would say "oh I remember reading that on your blog." I wonder if this is what celebrity feels like. Either way, she seemed in good spirits and I think we got along quite well. All in all it was the kind of weekend I needed.

After that, all the rest of my stage and I had our Mid-Service Training. We spent three days at Siloe (sp?) a Catholic convent. The food was amazing. I slept in a real bed. With a fan. It was easily the most comfortable 3 days I have spent in country. They fed us chicken legs! LEGS! Actual discrete recognizeable limbs with meat and skin on them! Not just a pounded up pile of meat and bone shards in an equally questionable sauce. Biting into that succulent flesh was like biting into a nugget of heaven. This is what a year in Peace Corps does to your concept of happiness. It turns it into chicken legs.

Oh yeah, we also had some training sessions. Some feel it was one of the most useless three days in their service but I disagree. While many of the sessions were only mildly clarifying at best, being with the other volunteers and sharing successes and failures was quite valuable. I also got some ideas for a project for my second year and hearing other volunteers talk about similar things really boosted my enthusiasm for work. That alone was helpful.

I was supposed to go on Vacation to Agadez this week. It's pretty much the only touristy place in Niger and has most of the significant cultural icons. We were going to take a five day tour that would include Agadez, and oasis, and dunes. But then during MST the Tuaregs decided it would be a good idea to start killing people. They attacked buses north toward Arlit and killed two people. Soldiers also killed five rebels. So while we are still allowed to go to Agadez, we would not be allowed to leave and take our tour. Bollucks!

The girls decided to go to Benin instead. Since we have so much hostel work coming up in preparation for swear in and the barbecue, Jimmie and I opted out. It's almost a relief not to go on vacation just because, due to the timing, I was going to be kind of stressed about all the work coming up and cramming it into just the one or two days before everything gets into full swing. Now I can take my time and get it done right.

Instead, I am going to head up to Gotheye today and check out Kurt's live fencing project. I saw a working garden with live fencing during MST and I am considering do that for the garden project I want to do this coming year. But while a functional live fence is encouraging, it doesn't really give you a good idea of what is involved in starting it. So I'll go check out Kurt's. It'll be kind of like a little mini vacation in a sense too. Should be a nice relaxing time. I'll try and post again when I get back.

HALF WAY THERE!

2007-02-14T06:27:00.000-05:00

Today is officially the halfway point of my service, barring any changes to my COS date. After today, I have less days remaining than I have already been in country. I'm that much closer to coming home. Yay! Not that I am dying to come home or anything. But it is nice to think about being closer to the end. I miss you all.

Btw, Happy Singles-Awareness-Day! Also there's another audio thingy up at Jimmie's blog. Check it out. That's all for now.

The Wall

2007-02-11T01:52:00.000-05:00

Fulan's don't really do the concession wall thing. Granted, unlike Zarma's or Hausa's, each family concession is separated from it's neighbor by several hundred feet of open field. So privacy is not such a huge concern for them. As the sole out of place American, however, it's nice to have walls around me that define my space from common space. It's also nice to have atleast somewhere I can go and not be on display as the token anasara.

So my villagers, at peace corps' request, built a "wall" around my house. Especially important is the latrine wall. My concession wall is mostly made of eucalyptus branches suported by verticaly placed branches. The leaves provide most of the opacity of the nearly 6 ft high wall. Despite some drooping due to high winds (which was fixed with some enormous logs being partially burried to support the wall) it has held up quite well. The same cannot be said my arguably more crucial latrine wall.

My latrine was constructed out of kaka, which is horizontal clusters of millet stalks tied to vertical branches burried in the ground. To add extra privacy (there were slight gaps between the clusters) dala mats (mats of woven grass) were tied to the inside of the wall. This was all perfectly acceptable...until rainy season.

High winds and torrential downpours caused parts of the wall to droop. At one point the wall that faced the outside of my concession (and thus separated me from the main water carrying foot path) was nearly horizontal and thus only came about waste high. Less than desirable for my bathing area. This was fixed time and again by burrying large logs and tying the kaka to them. It's worth pointing out that logs are not cheap for villagers. Wood is at a premium in this country and these were good solid beams that could have been used for building roofs on mud huts.

So anyway, the situation got pretty bad, though it was functional. My plan for a long time had been, after rainy season, to replace the wall with mud brick. That was back in Octoberish that I started having conversations with my maigari to get this task accomplished. I still don't really know the town and it's resources such that I know where to go about finding a mason and how much it will cost and all that. So I depend on my maigari to help me out with that. But there was, I suspect now, some miscommunication and stuff just never happened. I would talk to him and, atleast I think, he would almost always say something along the lines of he was still looking for a mason who was available or what have you.

Eventually I came back from the horse tourney and found that my latrine fence had been torn down and the outside wall replace by vertical kaka. That is millet stalks themselves burried vertically in the ground. The wall dividing the wash area from the latrine itself was not replaced, though when asked my maigari said they were going to replace it. This wall was ok, but not really great as after about chest height, the millet stalks have lots of gaps and so people walking past could at the very least see that I was there, if not more. That and the presence of only 3 walls on the wash area (there were really four but the fourth was on the other side of the latrine) left me feeling uncomfortably exposed when I was bathing. Though once cold season started this was no longer an issue as no one bathes during cold season.

Moving on, cows began systematically eating this fencing until it was no longer serviceable at all and if I sometimes had to opt not to use the bathroom at certain times do to the presence of people on the other side of the fence. Luckily at this time I didn't get sick and so pooping did remain more or less optional. Or atleast delayable. But the main point is that my pooping/bathing habits were on display for the town to see. Eventually I got fed up and finally my maigari and I go the mason who was building the cereal bank to come build me a wall. I had two sacks of cement and a handful of cement bricks scavenged from another building site. These were not enough clearly, and so the price of mud bricks to finish it was discussed as was the labor, and I agreed and so we planned to start the next day.

Never try and get an estimate from Nigeriens. While I was aware of the 13000ish CFA I was going to pay for the bricks and work, they did not tell me about the 3000 CFA for lunch that I was expected to provide for the workers, the extra 1000 for the day laborer that my maigari hired without asking me first, or the 3 additional sacks of cement we turned out to need for mortor at 5000 a piece. Nor the fact that the mud bricks were actually used old bricks and not at all worth the 20CFA a piece I was paying. But all of this was not brought up until I had a 2ft high latrine wall. And the mud mortor has to be mixed and left to sit for a day before it can be used. So it was not feasible to switch to that after the cement bricks were done.

So in the end I paid 40000CFA or roughly 80 bucks for a somewhat poorly built cement/mud wall. But it's about 5+ft high and completely opaque and feels nice and secure. So I chalk this one up to a learning experience. Atleast now people can't watch me poop.

This one's for the PCV's

2007-02-01T20:33:00.000-05:00

So now that I actually see and read people's comments on my blog, I've noticed something that I hadn't thought of before. I orginally thought this blog would be a great way to keep my friends and family back home up to date on my activities. But a several comments have also shown me that in reading about my experiences, other PCV's in both this country and others have found another fellow's experience to help them through their own. So this blog post is mostly directed at them.

Comraderie is one of the biggest support mechanisms we have here in Peace Corps. I went back and read my post on Western Guilt from September, which has received a few comments from fellow PCV's, as well as other posts on homesickness. And really what gets me through all of it at the end of the day is my fellow PCV's. I really cannot encourage strongly enough that volunteers seek eachother out and help eachother through the rough times.

I also want to point out to those who have read my earlier posts that it really does get easier. Around six months I was very very close to ETing. But, through the good council of my amazing PCMO and the company of my friends, I'm still here. And now, one year into my service, ETing is one of the furthest things from my mind. At this point I am amazed at how normal it seems to be living in Africa and doing what I'm doing.

One of the biggest frustrations I faced around the 6 month mark was the lack of real work. I've found that before too long, work just starts to happen. I know that I've been really lucky in having a village with a ton of Kokari (effort). Even still, I don't really remember when or how, but suddenly I just started working on a grain bank because it just seemed like the thing to do. Now I've taken on responsibilities as hostel manager as well, and am planning my next project already, and there seems no end to the work. All I can say is have patience.

When it seems hard, do what you have to do to stay sane. That's the most important thing. Bureau policies on travel be damned, your personal health is more important. If you need to visit another PCV, do so. If you just need to hear a familiar voice either by phone or email, make it happen. Try not to make these a crutch, but don't be afraid to use your resources either.

Also, don't forget that Peace Corps volunteers are one of the most courageous, awesome, and badass bunches of people out there. Regardless of how long you stay, just having the courage to do something like this, to leap headlong out of your personal comfort zone and into something completely unknown, makes you a remarkable person. I think it is impossible to spend any amount of time doing this and not grow as a person.

If just by being here and doing this helps even one fellow PCV stick it out or make it through a rough spot, this entire blog will have been more than worth the effort.

----Edit-----

Incidentally it's worth pointing out that whenever I receive comments or emails from PCV's who are encouraged (or not) by something I say here it has the same effect on me. Hearing other PCV's relate to my experiences helps me get through my own rough spots (of which there are still many). So I just want to say thank you to all those who do comment/email.

Funding woes and village effort.

2007-01-26T04:57:00.000-05:00

So, as tech savvy as I like to consider myself to be, I have apparently managed to miss the fact that I have been recieving comments on my blog for the past year. Apparently my settings are such that I have to approve them before they are published or whatever and I somehow always managed to miss the fact that I had a bunch sitting there waiting to be moderated. But some new changes to the blogger dashboard interface brought this to my attention. So today I went through and read and moderated all the comments and I just want to thank all of you who have posted your words of encouragement and appreciation. It's nice to know that people enjoy reading what I post. I also want to appologize to anyone who made comments in the past to which a reply was either requested or just appropriate. My bad and I now that I know, I will be able to respond to people who contact me through my blog.

So...hmmm...life in the bush...well, I have a fiddle now, thanks to my dad. I've spent a fair bit of time teaching myself to play it over the past two weeks and can almost play 16 bars of Ode to Joy nearly in tune! Go me! Aside from that, life is pretty slow as usual.

I think I've mentioned it before but not really elaborated much, but I am currently working on starting a cereal bank in my village. This would be a great help to the food security situation in my village and the villagers themselves are very keen on getting it started. I have to say I am thoroughly impressed with there display of kokari. We've already begun building the magasin and a committee of villagers is all set up to oversee it. The one catch is funding.

Peace Corps has very specific ways that we are allowed to go about looking for funding. The bad news is that the review process for proposals is very brutal and only happens once a month. This is awkward when I'm also told that I'm supposed to stay at post as much as possible because I cannot work on the proposal at post, or atleast I can't do anything with it when I'm there. So I've basically been trying to get this thing through since October and having to slog my way through bureaucracy and lack of information. It's very frustrating but I will get the money some how.

The only thing we need the money for is to cement and buy good doors and roofing for the building itself and then to buy millet to stock it with. That's the easy part. From talking to other volunteers the hard part is actually getting the villagers organized to build the thing, and to make sure that all the people who want to be a part of the project actually contribute to the work. My village has been amazing in organizing themselves without my intervention. They even had an announcement at a wedding (to my surprise) telling people that if that didn't come help make bricks they were going to be cut out of the grain bank and wouldn't benefit from the cheaper millet. I was blown away.

They are starting to get a little frustrated with the long time it's taking me to get the money. But the other day I sat down with three of them and actually carefully explained the process I have to follow and why it may not even be until next year that we are able to really get the grainbank operational. They seemed to understand. I was then floored when the next day another villager started hassling me about the money (again) and the ones I had explained it to came over and explained it to him and told him to have patience, and he left me alone. It's stuff like that that boosts my motivation to keep fighting to get my proposal through and get the money. It's awsome to see that they really do want to better their situation and are willing to help themselves and not just expect me to do everything and bring them money.

Things are looking up as I may be able to shunt my proposal into a slightly different funding funnel and get the funds quicker with less stringent guidelines. I may even get the money in time to buy millet after then next harvest (it's already to late to buy for this year). In sha Allah.

Hmmm

2007-01-16T17:07:00.000-05:00

Well, I've made it a year in country. Not quite half way done with service as a whole, but it's a mental milestone none the less. If nothing else, hitting the year mark has us starting to think about what to do after peace corps. While this is more pressing now, it's something I've thought about for a good chunk of the time here. But to really explain my current thoughts on this I have to start back before peace corps.

All my life I wanted to go to veterinary school and become a vet. That was it. That was all there was for me. So I followed the necessary steps. I worked at kennels and vet clinics. I enrolled in special summer programs. Most of all I attended a university known for it's animal and life science programs and majored accordingly. Towards the end of my last year, however, I started to get burned out.

Maybe that's not the right word for it, but after almost four years of intense hard science study (I didn't really branch out into other fields until senior year), I was done. I still found it interesting, still do. I like understanding what's going on and understanding the underlying principles of things. But classroom learning was enough.

So, long story short, I joined Peace Corps. After a year of contemplating this, this is where I feel I have deviated from the proscribed path that western society has deemed appropriate for someone of my background and abilities. Whoa! That was kinda new agy rebellious anti establishment rhetoric there, but I'll try to clarify what I mean in the hopes that I don't sound too revolutionary or angst ridden.

Basically, after graduating college, I got impression that I was expected to go to graduate school. That's what most of my peers were doing. That's where most of my friends are now. Barring grad school, the other primary option was to start an entry level position in some industry relevent to my major. In my case, biological sciences being my major, I would be a lab monkey in some research firm probably. Running PCR endlessly until I begin to climb the ladder and eventually do real stuff. I have a lot of friends going down this road too. Many are already doing fun stuff already.

All of this generally coincides with the settling down with a significant other, probably some one met in college, maybe someone new. Either way, time to start thinking about family. Case in point...this seems to be wedding year for most of my friends.

If I sound bitter, I really don't mean to be. I'm very happy that my friends are successful and happy. But it does make you start to think. Where do I fall on this "getting your life together" spectrum.

Well, I graduated college. That's a good start. Then what... oh. Right. I ran away to Africa. Well I must being doing something worthwhile here, right? I'm doing developement work! This is probably one of the most rewarding and growing industries in the new emerging global society. And so much room to progress within the industry. Great resume stuff!

Except...I don't really enjoy developement work. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy what I'm doing here, and it's great to be helping people and learning about a new culture. But I could never work in this industry for a living. So I can confidently say I'm not treating Peace Corps as the above mentioned entry level position type life route.

So...what am I doing. Well, at first I had planned grad school after this but now I think I have a better handle on what I'm after. This may just be me being a rebellious anti establishment 20 something, but I don't really want to be tied down to a career. That is to say, I don't want to be one of those people who can answer the "so what do you do?" question with something starting with "I am a..." I would much rather just do stuff.

Which leads me to my original intention for this post. Right now, my only plans for after peace corps is that whatever I do, it needs to either involve gaming and music, or atleast allow for them. Cause right now I would say those are my two biggest passions and let me tell ya, the middle of West Africa is not a great place for either.

(I seem to have lost the original thread of the post which was supposed to be about how few resources there are for adult beginners in music, but I'll just continue with this and hit that topic some other time.)

I guess my real point is that the western academic system really pushes us in a specific direction. All through high school we're told if you don't do well you won't get into a good college. And in college they push you to do well to get into a good grad school. If not that you get pushed to get high profile internships. And at the same time there is a huge cultural push to start thinking about marriage and family shortly after college. It's a lot of pressure.

And it took me a year in Africa to really see how much of that pressure I was feeling. It's still hard seeing all my friends succeeding in their various lives along those lines. Sometimes I feel like I'm falling behind a little. And I started feeling that even before I finished college cause I kept thinking to myself "what's the rush." And so I would miss deadlines for applications, or I wouldn't bother to write a thesis (shocking I know). But now I realize I just never felt quite in sync with that system. And I'm ok with that.

I'm not really sure if it's the culture here that let me see this ... though there is certainly a similar push for children to do well so they can get into the jobs that have money. Maybe I just needed to see that the world is a diverse place with my own eyes and realize that different people can follow different paths. For atleast the forseeable future, I don't really see any clear career lining up, and that's not what I really want right now anyway. Maybe sometimes I need to be reminded that I'm not actually falling behind. But a little occaisional melancholy as I watch my friends is well worth the comfort of knowing I'm not just blindly following a set course that is clearly not my own.

And this post has officially rambled on long enough, so good night everyone.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

2007-01-05T06:31:00.000-05:00

So while many of you were probably enjoying the intoxicating effects of various fermented beverages and ringing in the new year with boisterous enthusiasm... I was in bed and asleep by 10pm in a rural African village. But! That is not to say I did not enjoy my own festivities.

After a wonderful christmas spent with the other volunteers, I returned to my village to celebrate the muslim holiday of Tabaski. Tabaski is the muslim new year, which happened to coincide with the christian new year this time. Traditionally, you must sacrifice a sheep in symbolic memory of Abraham's sacrificing his son (he was stopped at the last second and told to sacrifice a sheep instead). A portion of the sheep you give to the poor, a portion to your friends, and the rest you eat yourself. It doesn't really sound terribly exciting.

You all remember the sheep I purchased several months ago. Well he was purchased with a plan. He was killed on Sunday along with my Maigari's two sheep and three goats. The six animals were all sacrificed on behalf of my Maigari's (rather large and extended) family. One sheep per family is the usual rate, I gather.

After the initial killing, we spent most of the day cleaning the carcasses. All the organs were collected, the liver and heart were skewered on sticks for roasting, the rest placed in bowls. The animal, once skinned and deprived of its vitals, was impaled on two crossed sticks. The resulting array looked like something out of a Silent Hill game (don't worry if you don't get the reference, it was spooky is what I'm trying to say). All six hunks of meat were then lined up along a rack, with a large fire built on the other side. The skewered liver and heart were placed in the ground just in front. We then spent the entire rest of the day smoking our sheep.

A couple times that evening I sat down with my villagers to feast upon the various and sundry innards that had been cooked by the women while we were prepping the carcasses. Turns out intestine is pretty tasty. The texture didn't even bother me too much. I suppose it's really all in the sauce.

On Monday all the meat was divided up. I ended up giving about half of my sheep away because well, a whole sheep is a lot for one person to eat. The other carcasses were also divided and so I had several smoked ribs for breakfast. Also liver and onions left over from the night before. I then spent about an hour deep frying all the hunks of meat that my half had been chopped into. This way, I now have half a sheep sitting in my house, but not rotting. So the last few days have mostly been spent sitting with my cat picking pieces of meat to eat. And of course taking lots of naps when our bellies are too full. All in all a good holiday.

So much meat!!!

Happy Holidays from Niger

2006-12-25T12:55:00.000-05:00

Season's greetings everyone! Well it's Christmas and here I am in Niger. Turns out Christmas isn't really a big deal in Islam. Who'da thunk it? I miss snow, and ambient christmas music, and friends, and family, and good cheer (read: copious amounts of alcoholic beverages), and all that. It just isn't the same here.

But about half of the volunteers are all in Niamey (the other half being at the other end of the country in Zinder) and it's kinda like being with one big family. Everyone is making various dishes and doing nice things and being merry. This morning I was awaikened by two elves (Alison and Alex in home made costumes) wishing me a merry christmas. Everyone spent the morning chatting and milling about and drinking ghetto mimosa's. There were even stockings for everyone hanging up and filled with random goodies.

There was a late pancake and sausage breakfast curtesy of some industrious voluntters. And a date (there is no gingerbread) mud hut and christmas tree were made. Lots of christmas carrols playing in the back ground too...until it dissolved into the obligatory movie watching.

We just got back from a staff member's house for drinks and snacks and are now heading back to the hostel where Brandon is cooking a Christams barbeque. Bacon Cheeseburgers! All in all, it has felt way more like christmas than I was expecting I feel all warm and fuzzy.

I do miss being home with friends and family very much, but it's nice that all the volunteers can come together as a sort of surrogate family and have a good time too. Have a Merry Christmas everyone!

Also, there is a christmas podcast on Djimi's blog.

Eleven Months Later...

2006-12-15T08:58:00.000-05:00

My intestines of steel finally gave in. After 11 months of impeccable health, I finally caught a case of dysentery. Actually two. Both amoebic and bacterial. My opinion, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Basically I woke up in the middle of the night and felt kinda feverish and weaklimbed which made it hard to sleep. I moved into my house and when I woke up I still felt kinda icky. So I waited for the market bus cause it was sunday, planning to go into Niamey and see my medical officer the next day.

Well the bus was about 2 hours late, and at about the 1.5hr mark, I didn't feel so bad. So I went back to my house figuring I'd sleep it out and see if I still felt icky that evening. The bus brings people back from market and then returns to Niamey again in the evening. Mostly though, I really wanted to spend more than a week at post before coming back in. The fear of scolding has made me avoid Niamey even when sick! ok, not really.

But yeah, so I still feel icky after sleeping all day, though I still didn't have the runny shits, just a little cramping and weakness. So I catch the evening bus at 5:30 and finally make it to Niamey around 7:30. Though the cold night air blowing in through the windows made me feel worlds better. The Nigeriens asking me if I'm from America and why I don't speek french however, did not. Go figure, I spend all day agonizing over whether or not my gastrointestinal distress is enough to warrant a trip to civilization, and by the time I arrive I feel fine.

So the next morning I go and poop in a cup, only a little cramping, feeling better over all. Though, the particular shade of mustard with a smooth jelly coating convinced that I was, infact, sick. That and the powerful aroma I left lingering in the rest room. Later that day my doctor confirmed that I had amoebas and bacteria and gave me a pile of drugs.

I have to say, the drugs have been knocking me on my ass solidly for the last 3 days, hence my still being here. Overall I would say that the daily cocktail used to treat it was more unpleasant than the actual illness. Oh well.

So, that's all I really have to report, or atleast all that comes to mind. Heading back to the bush in a few minutes but figured you would all enjoy hearing about my immunological misadventures. Now if I can hang out for the next 11 months I'll feel pretty good. Hopefully this isn't the sign that my immune system has finally been broken down.

Longest Week Ever - Part 3 - Camp Hamdy

2006-11-26T15:13:00.000-05:00

So also last week, as I mentioned, I participated in Camp Hamdalleye as a group leader. Camp Hamdy is a 3 day program for young students at the American International School of Niamey. They are mostly kids of expats and wealthy prominant Nigeriens who are educated in English in the American style rather than through the French system they use throughout Niger. Most of the kids in the school do not see much if anything of Nigerien life outside of their family compount, let alone out of Niamey. This is there chance to learn something about Zarma culture.

Most of what the six PCV's (including myself) were responsible for was translating and discussing our own experiences with living in rural villages. Otherwise the teachers that came from the school kept the whole thing moving and organized the kids. Though sometimes we did have to fill a disciplinary role. Overall, once I got used to it again, it was a lot like working at Hazen's Notch again.

Part of the program was a week long activity that the kids broke into groups for. I chose to work with the group that was making a traditional violin called a Goje (sp?). I spent most of the sessions chatting with the old zarma guy and playing the violins he made. I picked them up pretty fast and was able to make some fun little runs. One of the cool thing about the violin (which has a single horse hair string like the bow) was that it appears to run completly on harmonics. You never touch the string to the neck. Just a little tidbit for you music nerds.

I have to say it was a crazy experience working with Americanized kids after 10 months in country. All of us agreed that it was weird and a little scary. It was like getting a little taste of the reverse culture shock we are in for when we return home. Many of the kids would argue about things like who had more ipods or who's dad has a more high powered job. It was more than a little disturbing after we've been living with the poorest of the poor.

Also, Hamdallye is not nearly enough of a real bush experience in my opinion. When we went to visit host families many of the groups had electricity in the homes they visited. Not really a good demonstration of traditional zarma life. Not to mention the busy American style schedule which was just go go go. We only had 45 minutes for lunch for example. Once we managed to swing a 2hr break while the kids had some free time and we all agreed it still wasn't enough. We need the 4hrs of stair of into space alone time. It was kind of entertaining how some of us felt more comfortable hanging out with the Nigeriens they brought up from the village to teach than with the kids and the staff.

We realized from this whole experience that we just aren't the same people anymore. We spend all this time in Niger trying to integrate with our villagers, but never quite fitting because we are foreigners. But then we go back to America, or atleast a group of American type people, and we don't fit in anymore because we've become so Nigerien. Oh well, kala suuru. Over all I had fun and it was a worthwhile experience.

By the way. I would like to point out that I have started to post some pictures that I steal from other people's digital cameras on my myspace account. Yes, I hate it but I still have an account. You can observe my hypocracy at myspace.com/tastyfishcreature.

Once more with Feeling.

2006-11-26T15:02:00.000-05:00

Once again I appear on the Djimi show. Check it out again. I cover such topics as killing chickens and teaching Nigerien VIPs about Thanksgiving.

The Longest Week Ever - Part 2

2006-11-25T05:20:00.000-05:00

So after meeting the crew, we set off from Balleyara to begin our three day journey. Well, it was the final three day leg for the everyone but me and Cathy. The plan was to cover roughly 30km a day which would include staying in Hamdallye for the second night and enjoying a bed, showers, and good food at the peace corps training site.

For the most part the walking wasn't too bad. Luckily it is cold season and we had a cart to carry all of our gear. Two people could ride on the cart while the rest of us walked or rode the horse. I spent a great deal of time on the horse, frequently pulling out my backpacker guitar and playing as Lola (horse) followed the cart.

On the first day we stopped at a school and read "Ichi may falala" (sp?) which is "The Giving Tree" in Hausa. The school teachers translated from the Hausa to Zarma since the kinds did not hear Hausa. It was a lot of fun and the children seemed very excited to have us stop and visit them.

We didn't quite reach our planned destination the first night, so we stopped one town before as the sun had already set. The Maigari there hooked us up with water, food for the animals, and a place to sleep that even had posts perfect for tying mosquito nets. The next morning, Cathy and Kristen stayed behind to do a brief program on breast feeding as they were then going to hop a car to go into Niamey. Cathy was leaving for vacation and Kristen wanted to go to the COS party. So we lost two of our company.

The second day was quite random. Among some of the hi-lights were having a bush note dropped from a speeding truck (from Cathy and Kristen) and receiving a visit and candy and water from Laurent and Sangare (Bureau staffers). We also had the stay at Hamdy too look forward to. However, that was not to be, do to more randomness.

It was already dark and Kate and Nathalie had walked ahead of me and Alkazoum and Douwe and the animals. We thought we were only about 3k from Hamdy. But one of the cart's tires kept loosing air. The three of us with the cart refilled it about three times before Kate and Nathalie came back saying they could see the cell tower in Hamdy, but that we were actually another 7k. Well the cart just wasn't going to make it and it was too dark to patch the tire. So we had to figure out an alternative.

This was where I was finally really useful as a Zarma translater (everyone else only spoke Hausa). We decided that Kate, Douwe, the cart, and I would stay in the random village we found ourselves at at the time, while Nathalie, Alkazoum, and the horse would push on to Hamdy and tell them what was up and that in the morning they would come back with someone from the training site and help us fix the tire. So I went into the village and explained our situation to the Maigari and said that we needed a place to sleep that was safe and some water. Well, not only did he give us matresses, and unlock the pump, and bring us dinner, he also kicked somone out of their hut so we could have a place to put our stuff. It was awsome.

In the morning some PC folks showed up, fixed our tire, and sent the cart with Alkazoum and Douwe while we got a ride back to the site for the breakfast they had set up for us. Alkazoum and Douwe caught up with us there and also got some breakfast and a break. After breakfast, I set off with the Nigeriens and the animals while Nathalie and Kate went and greeted the Chef de Canton and read "The Giving Tree" for some kids.

The rest of the last day was pretty much just a push for home. All the animals were tired, we were tired, and we were so close, yet we still had about 32km to walk. We only took two breaks that day. One was for the nice lunch that Chris and Mary (more staffers) brought us, containing cokes, cheese, and M&M's. The other was when we stopped and took a nap while some random villagers fixed our tire for us again. Other than that it was a straight push.

When we finally reached the outskirts of Niamey, about 8:30PM, I felt like I was dead on my feet. My whole body ached as I had not been on the road as long and my body had not gotten used to the rigors of the road. The last hour and half walking through Niamey is a blur of dodging traffic and the others asking "is that the bureau?" But at 10PM we finally made it to Chris Burns' house and got some Gazpacho and were greeted by numerous PCV's there to watch the Michigan vs Ohio State game.

The next day I woke up and I felt like I was hungover. I think it was just pure exhaustion, but it was still lame. Especially since I knew later that day I was going to be leaving to go help out at Camp Hamdallye, a 3 day program for kids from the American Internatinal School of Niamey where they learn about Zarma culture. I still don't know how I got signed up for it, but it meant there was no resting for me. Just Go Go Go.

The longest week ever - Part 1

2006-11-24T04:09:00.000-05:00

Well it's been over 10 months in country now, nearly 8 months at post, and I think I'm finally really comfortable here. The last time I was in my village I actually was reluctant to leave after 10 days. It's like some sort of switch was flipped and now all of a sudden I don't just sit in my house all the time but actually go and wander around and chat with folks, and explore other markets, and eat with my villagers much more frequently. But I'm also coming due for another round of crazy so we'll see how that goes. I have optomistic feelings.

As I mentioned, however, I did have to leave my post, despite the bureaus attempts to chastize me for doing so more often than they felt was appropriate. Anyway, that was about a week and a half ago and I have been going going going ever since, right up until Turkey Day. I'm definately ready to go back to post and crash for about a week. But before I do I should probably fill you all in what I've been doing. So...On with the story!

A long long time ago in a place far far away (Actually it was only about 7 months ago in Konni) a volunteer from my stage bought a horse. While sweet and even tempered, the horse was a burden. It would eat everything and anything. Feeding it got to be too expensive. And it was so sweet, you couldn't even push her into a trot (unless you are a magical Tuareg as we will see later). So it was decided that the horse must go.

Many months later at the GAD auction fund raiser (the same one where two novice musicians were getting their first taste of performing on stage) the volunteer auctioned her horse to the highest bidder to raise money for Gender and Developement projects. Part and parcel of the purchase was that the horse would be delivered to the buyer's door. In addition, as the horse and transporters travelled (by foot, horse, and donkey cart) they would stop in villages along the way to do sensibilizations on a range of topics from SIDA (french for AIDS) and family planning to gardening and fruit tree grafting. Truly a noble endeavor.

Well the buyer happened to be the wife of one of our staff members here in Niamey. Feel free to go check a map real quick. Konni to Niamey. On foot with a horse and donkey cart. They are not close. Natalie (the volunteer who purchased the horse) and Kate from Konni, along with Alkazoum the magical Tuareg and Douwe the donkey cart maestro, actually made the entire journey. It took them about 17 days I believe. Kristen, also from Konni and the same village as Douwe, got as far as the last two days and then bailed for a party in Niamey. Lame.

The reason you need to know all this is that for the first half of my busy week I joined these brave adventurers in Balleyara. Last Tuesday I went from my village to ICRISAT- Sadore, the neighboring village/agriculture research center, to collect some Pomme de Sahel twigs (called scions) for grafting demonstrations . From there I went the next day to Niamey and straight on to Balleyara to meet our intrepid heroes. You would think that stopping at the neighboring village to pick up some twigs and then traveling to another town about a 2hr car ride away would be an errand completable in a single day. But such is travel in Niger (a combination of 7k walks on laterite roads and bush taxi rides on the paved ones) that such activities must be well planned and done well in advance of any deadlines. Kala Suuru.

Well after waiting in the tessum in Niamey for 3 hours to leave for Balleyara I arrived with scions intact. I got caught up on some of the adventures and met the team over dinner. Though I mentioned them in passing already, the team consisted of:

Lola - A lovely young mare who was weary and foot sore but managed to push on and make it all the way to her new home.

Natalie - The former owner of Lola and dedicated PCV from Konni region.

Kate - Another volunteer from Konni and battling a case of Giardia at the time of my arrival. It later cleared up miraculously.

Kristen - A health volunteer from Konni and friends with Douwe and Alkazoum. Also keeper of "the Numbers" and performer of many a breast feeding sensibilization.

Douwe - A fifteen yr old? Hausa boy from Kristen's village. He was responsible for driving the cart for us.

Alkazoum - The magical Tuareg. Also from Kristen's village, except when he is walking to Agadez and back. Addicted to tea and related to every Tuareg between Balleyara and Niamey, he was the only one capeable of getting Lola to move at anything other than a brisk walk.

White Chocolate - An Albino donkey who doesn't like people and had never pulled a cart before. Known to collapse on speed bumps.

Mike Tyson aka Beckham aka Donkey - A mean ass. He bucks, he kicks, he does not want to be your friend. But with Douwe at the helm he can pull a cart, so he replaced White Chocalate.

Come back next time as our merry band sets off.

Listen to the sound of my voice.

2006-11-22T19:40:00.000-05:00

Go check out Djimi's blog at safarijim.blogspot.com to listen to little audio blog segment we just recorded here in the IRC. Also, I'll be posting updates on my most recent activities (of which there are many) in the coming days. I'll be in Niamey for Turkey Day and staying until Sunday.

They're Watching Me...

2006-11-05T10:14:00.000-05:00

I've always been rather dissappointed that my house in Vermont is actually too remote to be viewed on Google Maps. Dissappointed... comforted, it's all the same. Thus you can imagine my surprise when I found this:

(click for larger image)

That's right, you are looking at a satelite image of my village in Niger. How do you know you live in the middle of nowhere? When Niger is better mapped than your neighborhood. But I digress.

My entire village is actually much larger than this area, but I have focused in on the main area where I spend most of my time. I have indicated a few points of interest for you all:

1. This is my Maigari's (village chief's) family concession. All the huts and houses in this circle belong to him or his sons or his sons in law. The hut at 12 o'clock is where my house now stands (this picture is somewhat out of date). The maigari's two wives live in the double mud house at 1 o'clock.

2. This is the well where I pull my water. Looking at the scale I now realize that I walk almost a kilometer a day in my two trips to the well and back to get water. Man indoor plumbing was a cool idea.

3. My school teacher lives here. Sometimes I hang out with him and drink tea and talk about being bitter about Niger.

4. This is the old school house with two additional shade hangar classrooms on the sides. It is now being used as office and storage space for the new school house that was just recently finished.

5. This is the old mosque. It's not used for anything anymore.

6. If a sat image was taken today, this would be where you would find the new school buildings. Two cement buildings were just finished this past month and there are two additional grass hangar classrooms as well. School is starting this coming week.

7. This is where the new mosque sits. It's all white washed with a turqoise minaret and is much nicer than the old mosque. Villagers come from the farther parts of the village to pray here on Friday afternoons. Then they hang out at the maigari's house and talk loudly to make it hard for me to take a nap.

I have also highlighted two more family concessions just North of my usual area. There are many such family clusters scattered over the 32 sqkm of my town.

So there you have the quick and dirty arial tour of my small farming/herding community here in Niger. I hope you have enjoyed the excursion.

Pretty quiet over here.

2006-10-20T02:58:00.000-04:00

This morning I woke up and was suddenly struck by the thought "I've lived in Africa for the past 9 months. And I speak a native language. And I'm doing developement work with rural subsistance farmers. Holy Crap! I really joined the Peace Corps!" These thoughts never really stop happening. It's kinda fun. It helps keep it sounding exciting.

Truthfully though, when I'm not going crazy from medication mishaps or social inequality, Peace Corps is actually quite dull and unexciting really. I guess it has it's fun anecdotes. But Jimmy and I were talking the other day how we had actually spent the last two weeks at post happy to be there. We hadn't had a burning desire go to Niamey, or give up and go home. It was nice. And it really wasn't very interesting. Most of my time is spent hanging out in my village reading, playing guitar, and occaisionally socializing with villagers. It's nice though.

I guess I do have some news from the village side of things. First off, I have a sheep. Yes that is correct. I purchased a sheep at last weeks market. For less than $40. Why? Why not? It's not a particularly large sheep and it doesn't really produce wool. So I'll fatten him up over the next few months and then have some people over for a sheep feast.

Buying him was a fun endeavor as I had to give two of my villagers money and then hover around the animal market while they went and poked all the sheep and did negotiations. Every now and then they would come over and ask which ones I liked. After they finally bought the sheep and gave me the little piece of paper that says it's my sheep now, it was hilarious to see the look on the vendor's face when he realized he just sold a sheep to a white guy and didn't make a rediculous profit.

Also, it seems things are moving on my Cereal Bank project that I'm doing in my village. The purpose of this project is to have a an organization in the village that will buy grain while it's cheap after harvest, and then when everyone has run out of food it will sell it at only slightly above purchase price, but way below market value. Well it seems my villagers have a ton of kokari as they organized an executive board for the cereal bank with a president, vp, etc. all by them selves while I was in town for swear in. So we've been holding meetings and now I just have to get the budget and project proposal approved and then I can start asking all you nice folks for money.

Aside from that, life in the bush goes on as it always does. Nothing too exciting. It's just kinda nice. Rainy season is over, which is sad but the mornings are nice and cool now. Still, after 9 months of summer, I'm ready for fall. I am insanely jealous of all of you in the states right now as this is generally my favorite time of year, in New England especially. But atleast I have a sheep.

Bush Taxi Races and Japanese Volunteers

2006-09-25T19:47:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I swear if they don't kill me in an outright accident, the bush taxis here are going to give me a heart attack. Today, I was waiting for a bush taxi on the side of the road, as usual. Before long I see not one, but two coming along. I considered myself lucky because if the first one was full, then the second one would probably stop (it's worth noting that being "full" is not compatible with being a bush taxi). As the first one started to slow, however, the second one sped up, and swung around the first to overtake and went wizzing past.

So I cross the street to get into my bush taxi. The bush taxi "conductor" (I don't know what else to call him but he collects the money and packs the luggage on the roof and is called the "moto dog" in zarma) ushers me into the car clearly in a hurry. I noticed at this point that there was hardly anyone in the vehicle. Two whole rows were empty?! Truly an anomoly. I considered myself again to be lucky. But before I could properly make myself comfortable in my luxury accomodations, the taxi was wizzing off down the road and the dude was slamming the sliding door shut.

Brief side note about bush taxis - It is not uncommon for them to start moving with the main door still open. Indeed, it is actually the norm for them not to. There is speculation among PCV's that the apprentice/conductor dude is considered incompetant if he cannot run alongside the car for several feet and then hop in and shut the door after the vehicle gets atleast halfway to cruising speed. All this with a vehicle that greatly resembles a very slightly oversized VW bus crammed with around 30 people. Not exactly easy to just hop back in. You get the idea. Now back to the story.

When we last left our hero (me) I had found myself in a curiously empty bush taxi that was wizzing down the road at an unusually high speed (especially for a rundown toyota van). Well at this speed it was not long before we caught up to...and passed the other taxi. The one that had zoomed past as my own had stopped for me. As my conductor dude shouted some taunt out the window as we went passed it dawned on me: these lunatics were racing!

Now let me tell you, my road is pretty good by Nigerian standards. Not too many potholes and only a moderate serving of livestock. And it's paved. But I still wouldn't want to race a vehicle that's in good shape on it. But these two bush taxis were leap frogging, and weaving, and zooming all the way. As one would stop it would be a rush to get the passengers and their baggage loaded while the other one zipped ahead...only to have to stop for another passenger further up. Or not. At one point we started moving again while the apprentice guy was still on the roof. Let me say that again. There was a man. Up on the roof. And the door was open. And the car started moving. Quickly. He was truly skilled as he was able to clamber down and back into the car, all with a huge grin on his face.

With all the weaving about, this is when I learned that a full taxi is a blessing. With all those people wedged in there, you can't bounce around. And if perchance the bush taxi were to roll over, well you're plenty padded then aren't you. All those squishy bodies. Also makes it quite easy to take a nap. It was fun, however, when this little old lady on the side of the road tried to buy the sack of leaves that one of our passengers had up on the roof. The whole bush taxi got involved in the negotiation. We gave her a hard time and she ended up not buying the sack, but it was fun.

Despite a few scares, we made it into Niamey in record time and with everyone in good spirits...even though I think we lost. So I went and flagged down a town taxi to take me to the bureau. It was in this taxi that I finally met one of the Japanese volunteers that are working in Niger.

I've been looking forward to meeting one of these volunteers and I'll tell you why: our common language is Zarma. After a few minutes of conversation with the driver and another passenger, I asked the driver if the Japanese girl in the backseat spoke Zarma (I had only heard her say one or two short phrases about where she was going). He said yes so I immediately engaged her in conversation. She was much more reticeant about speaking, but I asked her how long she's been here and such. It was awsome.

One of the Nigerien passengers asked why we would speak Zarma to eachother (both being foreigners). So I explained I don't speak Japanese and she doesn't speak English. Zarma, therefore, is our common tongue. They thought this was a riot. As did I really. I have to say that it was definately a crazy experience to speak to a foreigner, from another industrialized nation, in an obscure African language because that is our only common language.

I suggest you try it some time.

(Btw Mom, I wasn't in quite as much danger as I make it sound in this post. But the bush taxi ride was quite thrilling.)

Brief Update

2006-09-20T03:40:00.000-04:00

I just want to point out that I've been adding fellow pcv's blogs to the links section as I acquire the addresses. Of particular note, I've just added Katy's blog and I highly reccomend you take a look at it in the next day or two as she is currently sitting next to me posting pictures from the Cure Salee. The Cure Salee is the national celebration of the end of rainy season and has all kinds of fun traditional activities like Wadabe dancing and camel races. Check it out!

On Western Guilt

2006-09-12T18:55:00.000-04:00

Welcome to crazytown, population me. As I'm sure you've no doubt figured out, Peace Corps is one hell of a mind blowing experience. You'd think you'd get used to it, and you do. To a point. For the most part you get by. You learn a lot about the culture, so that gets easier. They prepare you with language really well, so while frustrating, you are not crippled. And you have your distractions: reading, music, crafts, etc. But nothing changes the fact that you are living in a completely different world from your home.

A couple of weeks ago most of us from the Tillaberi region (Say, Gotheye, and Balleyara) were in Niamey for a bike stage so we could better learn to care for our bikes in this harsh climate. While we were in Niamey, two pcvs and a pct went home. One Close of Service, and two Early terminations. I think this was the even that flipped the switch as it were, especially considering the two PCV's were friends of mine who I was sad to see go.

Shortly after I began to feel rather homesick. This is perfectly normal. I feel homesick about once a week. It happens. Usually I just take a nap or spend a whole day reading some sci-fi or fantasy novel and when I'm done, the homesickness is gone for another few days. This time however, it stayed around. And lingered. And festered.

I started working harder than usual in my fields, cause if I exhausted myself physically, I was too tired to feel unhappy. It worked for the most part. I even felt happy afterward sometimes. But it was still always there, waiting to pop back up.

My usual escapes offered little relief. Reading didn't help as I ended up just staring at pages and thinking about home and all the things I would do. Playing music was an instant cure...but only as long as I was still playing.

You learn to accept ups and downs here. It's part of existing in a different and sometimes uncomfortable place. You play all kinds of psychological games with yourself to get through the downs. You tell yourself things like "well I'll just stick around till swear in." or "if I can last another 4 months I can say I was here for a year." What get's scary is when you start setting conditions under which you will call it quits. "If this down cycle lasts a week I'll go home." That's what I told myself at one point.

Needless to say it lasted more than a week. I had quite a few conversations with my parents back home about my thoughts and the possibility of going home, and their support helped immensely. But the realy thing that was bothering me is that I would think about going home, and then I would get these sort of anxiety attacks. And from there I would follow a whole slew of emotional turmoil until I ended up back at just homesick. The cycle would start again from there.

For about two weeks there was not a day that went by that I didn't hit everything from homesick, to anxious, to elated, to tears, to angry. It was pretty unpleasant let me tell you. And it was scary, cause I knew this wasn't me. So I finally bit the bullet and went and had a long chat with my Medical Officer, I needed help.

Through the course of the conversation we managed to get to the bottom of the anxiety, which was the real source of all the ups and downs. Basically my problem was this:

I joined the Peace Corps to do something real. My goals were more about self exploration and expansion than anything else. Doing good things in the world was a nice idea, but wasn't what got me excited or anything. But now that I am here I see people who not only don't have all the luxuries we have, but will cannot even fathom many of the things we take for granted. For example the fact that I can just pop over here and type up a blog post that many of you may read tomorrow morning over breakfast or while at work.

We have so much that they will never have. The balance of resources and advantages is so staggeringly skewed it boggles the mind. It is one thing to sit in America and say that people over here have to live on $2 a day, it is another thing to live here and see what that really means. When I thought about going home, I would think about the fact that I was here and had seen all of this and would be turning my back on it. This is what then led to the anxiety attacks.

Are not the Haves obligated to share with the Havenots. Isn't it a moral obligation to seek equality. If that is the case should we not be willing to give up as much as necessary to achieve that equality. Thus if I am turning my back on these people just because I miss being able to have my own computer, play games with my friends, and go and see a movie aren't I a horrible person. These are the thoughts that would fill my mind when I thought of going home. These kinds of thoughts can tear a person apart. They nearly did me.

I wanted so desperately to go home and not be faced with this world. And yet I could not bring myself to do it for paralyzing fear of the condemnation of the people around me and more so my own conscience.

In my talk with my doctor, though, I learned an important lesson. These are different worlds, and they do not meld easily. It is not a simple case of there is more in one and less in another. One cannot simply transfer money or goods and balance it out. The ways of life are completely different and cannot be viewed through the same lens.

This is the poorest country in the world, and yes it is good that those of us with the means do what we can to help aleviate suffering and bring this country up to a higher standard of living. There are reasons, however, that this is the poorest country. Not to say that one lifestyle is good and another bad, but the ethos here simply does not lead to rapid industrial and economic devolpement, and thus western values and lifestyles. When money comes in it is nice and it buys a couple of extra meals. But it doesn't change anything.

My point, and what I had to realize, is that when someone tells you of the horrible imbalances in the world and that you should give up xyz to help, think a minute. Yes we should help. Yes I could sacrifice a lot more than I have already and give more to help the people here. But we can only help so much so fast with any efficacy. Am I doing all that I can to help these people? No. But I am doing more than will actually make a difference. And that is enough.

Yes we have all these gadgets and technologies that allow us nigh on infinite ways to spend our liesure time, we are also slaves to many of those same technologies. If the wrong computers die, our world collapses. If the power goes out, life practically stops. Here, none of that is the case. On the other hand they have to worry about getting enough rain to grow enough food.

But my point is that while we are all human and need to help eachother, we are also from different worlds that can only help eachother so much if we do not help ourselves. So do not feel guilty for what we have and what they don't. If you liquidated your net worth and distributed the total to enough people that you all were now even, it would not change their lives any more than yours. They would buy food for a while, and a lot of random gadgets they thought they need, until it was gone and they would go back to subsistance farming, because that is their way of life. You would find ways to invest what you had left, or start a business, or some other way to make more sustainably, because that is how your world works.

Do not try and bear the burden for the world's unfortunate differences. The world is how it is. Do not feel guilty for being different. It will drive you mad.

Insert Clever Food Oriented Title Here

2006-08-14T05:11:00.000-04:00

Last night I enjoyed one of the best burgers I've ever eaten. Part of it may have been the onions, tomatoes, basil, etc. that was actually in the patty. Part of it might also be that my standards have been significantly reduced in terms of my culinary discretion over the past 7 months. Either way, greetings on your cooking Brandon.

I was warned about food in Niger before I came here. I was told that I had better enjoy millet. It was reccomended that I bring lots of spices, as the food here was very bland. I was also led to believe that the food here was just thoroughly unappetizing and the prospects of getting any sort of standard American fare were slim at best. All of these things I have found to be true, sometimes.

Generally speaking it is not too hard to get a hamburger or pizza in Niamey. However, you have to watch out for bones in the ground beef and the pizza is not exactly Dominoe's delivery. Think of the more gourmet pizza's you can get in America and that's what pizza is like here. Delicious...but not quite what I was looking for. Like everything else in Niger, American food here is consistantly inconsistant.

In terms of actual Nigerien cuisine, I don't actually have too many complaints. In Hamdalley we were absolutely spoiled. Like most Nigerien meals, the ones served during training consisted of a starchy base with some kind of sauce. Usually there was a meat and veggie sauce along with a vegetarian alternative, served over couscous, rice, or pasta. Occaisionally we were treated to a ground meat pizza which was much closer to American cafeteria style pizza. Every now and again we would get some true delicacy like roast guinea fowl or goat meat brochettes.

My host family during training was a bit more traditional. We pretty much ate rice and sauce every night. Though I have heard through the grape vine that my host mom is one of the best if not the best cook in Hamdalleye. The variety of sauces served was impressive over the course of the two months, and they frequently had meat. Other volunteers were not so lucky and basically had rice and "snot sauce" (okra sauce) every night. We also occaisionally had rice and beans (my favorite standard dish) or pasta.

In the bush is another story entirely. Every night my villagers eat kolkoti and kofois. Kolkoti is corn. They pound it into a coarse meal and basically make grits out of it. I like grits so this is not too bad. This serves as the starchy base for the kofois, or baobob leaf sauce. They pound the leaves of the baobob tree and through some process I have never bothered to observe, turn it into a sort of grean slime. I often liken it to a Nigerien version of pesto. Except that instead of a small amount giving a subtle yet pungent flavor, they creat a half inch thick layer of the slime on top of the kolkoti gelatin. It's actually pretty good when done right...but not every single night.

For lunch they almost always make rice and beans, though less frequently these days as we are now into hunger season. Rice and beans is my favorite bush food. When I go to market I always end up eating at least 2 helpings at the little market restaurents. It's not really any more complex than it sounds. But it has a ton of oil and salt and is just wonderfully filling and tasty.

Such is the crux of Nigerien cuisine, rice and sauce or rice and beans. The sauces vary from meaty, nutty, spicy, or just bland. All in all though it's not too unfortunate. Sometimes the snot sauce is rather unfortunately textured.

The other primary food is millet drink, called huro, doonu, coweh, or a multitude of other names. Usually it contains milk, but not always. Basically they produce a sort of millet paste that they then dilute with the liquid of choice. I personally quite enjoy kooku, which is the drink with just water and is served hot. I find it tastes like runny grits and makes an excellent breakfast if you add powdered milk and suger.

Speaking of powdered milk, it's amazing some of the things I have acquired a taste for in terms of my own cooking. I generally go through a box and a half of powdered milk a week, between cooking and just drinking a cup or two of it a day. I figure I have to get my protein from somewhere and it's actually a pleasant and filling afternoon beverage. I also drink a cup of Nescafe every morning. A far cry from the Green Mountain Roasters I used to drink all the time back home. But if you load it with powdered milk and sugar it's almost like a cheap cappucino. When I'm in Niamey I go all out and get the street coffe with sweetened condensed milk. However, when I do get a cup of real coffee it's that much more of an amazing treat.

As I mentioned, my villagers primarily eat kolkoti and kofois every night, so I mostly cook my own food. I eat a bowl of oatmeal every morning with my coffee. As far as lunch and dinner goes it usually consists of some sort of pasta or rice or both and a choice of either red or white sauce. I once texted someone "If you consider differently shaped pasta constitutes dietary variety...you might be a real PCV."

The only vegetable I can reliably get at market is onions, and even those are scarce and crummy right now. Rogo is not so bad and adds some bulk to my dishes. Mostly I improvise with whatever random root, or sweet potato, or squash is in season at the time. I'll just say it's a good thing I like onions. I do also add baobob leaves to almost everything, though my villagers don't understand why I don't want to pound them into mush before adding them to my food.

I have to say that spices are key. It's amazing how much variety in meals you can trick yourself into thinking you have just by mixing it up with spices. Lately I don't bother choosing between rice and pasta anymore. I just cook em both, add an onion if I have it, some oil, and then decide what kind of spices to add. Invariably I always add a bullion cube or two (It's the secret to good cooking). The other day I made a curry rice with some rogo (which is casava root by the way) which I thought was rather mediocre. But I gave a taste to a kid and he said I cooked better than the women. Go me!

The monotony get's broken up by the occaisional infusion of care package food, usually instant soups or pasta mixes. Big thanks to mom for keeping those coming, just got two packages today, including the one with a ton of Beef Jerky courtesy of the awsome folks at the Snowshoe Pub in Montgomery Center, VT. (A little plug for you guys ;-)

Eating healthy enough isn't too challenging here. You just can't be too picky. I know several PCV's who have lost a lot of weight because they just can't get used to a largely uninteresting diet. I like food. If it's edible, I will probably enjoy eating it. And so I honestly enjoy the cuisine here for the most part.

It's also nice that I found a restaurent in Niamey that has good steak au poivre.

Also, spices are

What do you do all alone in the bush?

2006-08-03T06:57:00.000-04:00

It feels like it's been forever since I've made a post, and yet my head doesn't feel at all bloated with excess thoughts and experiences eager to burst forth upon the blogosphere (god I hate that word). Allow me to explain the reasons behind this.

There are many things I've always wanted to do but never quite got around to. Examples include playing guitar, studying philosophy, and especially writing down my thoughts and experiences (those of you I talk to with some frequency will note that the first two are my primary liesure activities in the bush). Well I've never been able to consistantly keep a journal or maintain a blog or what have you. I usually just end up telling or discussing my thoughts with someone and that's the end of that. I've always felt however that if I could just find the right notebook, the floodgates would open and a tidal wave of inky thoughts would flow freely from my pen. Well when I was visiting Kurt in Gotheye he gave me one of his spair pocket sized moleskine notebooks (I've had a few of the larger sized to limited success). Since then only two days have passed where I have not written something down. I could go on a long rant about why I think that is the case but I wont...atleast not today.

The result is I feel less inclined to post when I'm in town because I am constantly jotting things down in my notebook, be they observations, activities, little bits of music I need to try later, or personal revelations. I am sure, if I can get back in the habit of blogging, I will use this as an effective resource for remembering what happened and relating it back to you, dear readers. But now is not that time.

I have been briefly scanning some of my compatriots blogs now and again and I have noticed that they talk much more about what sorts of projects or developement plans/needs they have for their communities. I have posted little in regards to specific "work" that I am doing here for one simple honest reason: I am not doing much of that...yet.

As has been quoted in inumerable marketing materials, briefings, handbooks, and support resources, "every peace corps experience is different." For me, my first 6 months in Niger have been much more about personal exploration. I have been freed from my time devouring hobbies, constant media bombardment, and the avenues of data addiction (this last is something I will probably talk about at great length sometime).

Through learning (or relearning) to play the guitar I have developed a new found love and interest in music, especially music theory and construction. I quickly snatch up any resources on this material and ferret them away to my hut to properly digest and apply them. Though I am also exploring music with Kurt who is teaching himself the banjo. Whenever possible we get together and mess around with what we've learned and discovered.

Aside from that I've spent a lot of time marveling at the world and exploring philosophy and spirituality, as those two go very much hand in hand. Coming here to this culture and environment that couldn't be more different from my home pretty much shattered my prievious world view. I have spent the last several months picking up the pieces, along with many new pieces, and putting them back together in some way. What I think about the world is gradually becoming clearer to me and I feel much less lost now that I did initially.

Both of these adventures I could, and probably will, explore at great length here. There have been other things too, but for the most part this is what I have been spending my time on. Don't interpret this to mean that I do not actively interact and explore my village, environment, and potential projects. Only recently however, have these activities come off the backburner and I now feel comfortable enough in my new home to actually start doing things.

As I recently explained to one of my villagers when he asked why I haven't started any projects yet, before I can do effective work, I need to be happy where I am. The past 4 months at post, and 6 months in country have been a rollercoaster and it's just finally getting to the smoother bits so I can begin to work on my project goals. Initially however I see most of those projects being home improvement type things as I very much see the role of the first volunteer in a village to be that of making the place comfortable and making the village understand how Peace Corps works as opposed to other developement organizations.

So that, I hope, gives you some idea of what I've really been up to in the past 6 months.

Ay koy ga di Gotheye

2006-07-14T04:36:00.000-04:00

This past week I did a little visit exchange with fellow PCV Kurt. We were both itching for a change of scenery, and the timing just happen to work out, as we were both in Niamey for whatever reasons.

So on Friday we left Niamey for my village. The bush taxi ended up packed, as it always does when you catch one at the tessum (bush taxi station more or less). If you catch them on the road they've usually dropped off a few passengers already and so you can have a little more space. Either way, my tessum is fairly quiet and free of anasara harrassing merchents, and the bush taxi to my road is fairly short. It was a cool day, having rained the night before, so the 7k walk to my house was not entirely unbearable (aided by a midway snack of sardine sandwhiches).

We basically spent the rest of that day and all of the next hanging out and seeing different parts of my village. We went and checked out the stretch of river not far from my house, and the Zarma village that resides there (I needed to buy some kerosine for my lantern). It was fun to hear Kurts comments on how my village is different from his, to get an outsider's perspective. When we had dinner with my schoolteacher on the second night, Kurt was blown away by how bitter he is. We ended up getting into a long, loud conversation regarding materialism and whether or not money can buy happiness. I mostly sat by and listened, and occaisionally aided Kurt with Zarma or the teacher with English. My guests always seem to bring out the bitterness in him. My conversations tend to remain quite civil. All in all it was an interesting dinner, though I suspect some things got lost in translation.

As an aside, my teacher's wife had given birth that morning. The naming ceremony is tomorrow and it's one I actually look forward to.

Speaking of food, I have eaten more in the past week than I ever have in a week spent in the bush. That first night we made a huge pot of potato leek soup (we found some leeks at the western style market, very expensive). The next morning we had a breakfast of sauteed onions, garlic, eggs, and oatmeal. Then after already eating a dinner of our homemade bread and fish and tomato sauce, we had more dinner with the teacher consisting of more fish and a whole big bowl of rice and beans. Plus various lunch items we made. And this was just in my village.

Anyway, after two days of messing with my village kids and playing some music together (harmonica / guitar) we set out to head to Gotheye, on the northern part of the river, where Kurts village resides. Originally we had planned to run right through Niamey (after a big lunch of course) and continue straight on to spend a night at the Gotheye Hostel. We were however, temporarily delayed in Niamey as one of the Gotheye team members, Crystal, was ETing. As such, all the remaining team members came into Niamey to say good bye. So we stayed there for the night.

The bush taxi to Gotheye is quite a bit longer than to my village. However there is a break part way as you have to cross the ferrie to the other side of the river. After an hour in a bush taxi it's nice to get out and stretch your legs for half an hour. By this point in the journey the landscape is already quite different from my part of the river. For one, there are hardly any mesas around. It's very flat. Second, there are more deciduous trees, rather than the palms that dominate my village. The result is that I could almost imagine myself being somewhere in America.

We only stayed in Gotheye just long enough to buy a few kossams (bagged yogourt drinks that PCV's love) before heading out to Kurt's village. It's a fairly long walk, but not much worse than my own. It was a market day also so there was a boat to cross the small section of river that you must cross to get to his village. Once again, the landscape was very very flat. Most of the trees had clearly been mangled by villagers getting firewood. I think I like my sandy hills of palm trees better.

I must say that Kurt's concession kicks ass. He's the third volunteer in his village, so clearly there were two previous occupants working on making it comfortable, unlike my own post. Even so, it has a tree, and a massive shade hanger, which fill the whole thing with atleast dappled shade most of the day. His walls are brick and come to about 5 feet, so one could quite easily walk around naked with complete privacy. His latrine and wash area are also well laid out. The downside: He has the worst ant problem I've seen. You can't sit still for long without having ants crawling all over you. Even on his bed platform you're not safe. He says he gets used to it and it teaches him to be clean and was all his dishes immediately. I think he's crazy and should get some ant poison.

His region is mostly populated by Songhai's. They seem much more openly friendly than my fulan's, and have much happier looking faces, on a whole. They also have the funny quirk of not pronouncing F's. So where Ouallam Zarma's would say "Mate fu" or "Koy fulanzam" they say "Mate hu" and "koy hulanzam." I was actually used to this as my fulan's speak an amalgum and so they toss out the odd "hu's" here and there. Still, they definately had an accent different from Say region. Though they were most impressed when I busted out my "I speak fulan smal small" in fulfulde. But dissapointed when they learned that's all I got. They also build their grainaries out of mud rather than grass mats. They look like beehives and I'm expecting giant wasps to come out of them and kill us any day now. It'll happen.

Kurt's school teacher was very friendly and upbeat. He made us lots of tea and chatted with us whenever we went over there...which was a lot of the time. On the second day there we had lunch at his house. I ate so much rice and beans I thought I was going to explode, but it was delicious.

It was fun to go out and cultivate his teacher's field with him. Kurt is a NRM and so he doesn't have his own field as I do. So it was fun when the teacher offered me his kumbu (hoe) and I already knew how to do it, and then watch kurt to struggle to figure it out. After that however, Kurt went on to till most of the field that we did that day. A gonda kokori gumo!

Other than that, we mostly whiled away the hours playing chess, reading, and napping, as one does in the bush. Again, we cooked and ate a tremendous amount of delicious food. Kurt may have learned a lot of Zarma from having me around, but I learned a lot more about how to up my standard of living in the bush.

The return to Gotheye was certainly an adventure. Remember that little section of river we had to cross. Well usually Kurt just cowboys up and ford's it with his backpack on his head. It had rained the night before however. So where it was usually up to his waist, it was now over his head with a strong current. After a few exploratory dips, we decided we couldn't cross there and headed up stream to find either a easier crossing, or a boatman. If push came to shove there was a town 3k up that we could get a boat at.

Well, we ended up walking for what must have been 5k, seeing few people, before we got to the town. The town where people were doing washing in the river...with no boats to be seen. So we yelled across the river to one of the locals and asked if the river would pass us if we entered. They indicated that it was only waste high...I think. So Kurt started walking into the water, much to their surprise. They managed to convey to us that that was not where we should cross, so we walked up stream a few yards until they yelled something that sounded encouraging. I watched Kurt first to see how deep it would get. After he was about a third of the way across, I followed, clothes and all. The Nigeriens seemed surprised we didn't take off our clothes first, but we assured them it wasn't a problem. Eventually we made it across, thanked the ladies, and followed the river back down stream...soaking wet. The villagers will probably be talking about the anasara's who crossed the river for weeks. One of them was wearing a hat.

The rest of the walk was fairly uneventful, except for the hidden Gotheye camel population we found. Just sittin by the side of the river, something like 30 camels. It caught us rather off guard, but camels are pretty relaxed if you don't bug them.

We made it to Gotheye just a little before the others returned from Niamey. We made some lunch, took a nap, then I headed back to Niamey around 5ish. Crossing the ferrie around dusk was quite pretty and it reminded me that all in all, even with the hard moments, I'm glad I'm here. I think I'm going to have to start doing monthly visit exchanges, as it was very helpful for breaking up the monotony of living in the bush.

"Ni ma kande iri se Generator"

2006-06-25T07:46:00.000-04:00

What follows is a more or less accurate representation of a conversation I had with my Maigari's son Boureima. The actual conversation was in Zarma of course. I have translated more or less literally, so you can see how limited my ability to explain things to my villagers is. Sometimes developement work is frustrating.

Boureima: You should bring us a generator.

Me: Why?

B: Because people need electricity.

M: Not true.

B: Of course! If a person has electricity he is thankful to god! You should bring us a generator.

M: But you have a solar panel. You have electricity.

B: It has no strength.

M: What do you want electricity for?

B: All these buildings want electricity (gestures to all the houses in the Maigari's concession). The Mosque, it wants electricity. If we have electricity we will be happy.

M: I understand, but what will you do with electricity?

B: We will have no darkness at night. Lots of lamps. That would be sweet right?

M: Maybe.

B: And we can watch tv.

M: You do that now.

B: The tv. It died. We have a new one. It is bigger.

M: So watch it off your solar panel.

B: The battery. It doesn't have strength.

M: So sell the big tv. Buy a small one like the one you had. You can then buy food. You keep saying you have no food.

B: But bigger is sweet, right?

M: Not if you have no food.

B: If we have electricity we will have food.

M: Not true.

B: Of course! People will pay to watch the tv.

M: But you keep saying no one has any money, who will pay?

B: No. The kids. Look, this kid, he has 50cfa. He will pay to watch.

M: He should use that money to buy food.

B: Ali! You will bring us a generator! Wouldn't you like to have lights and electricity.

M: Not really. I don't need it here.

B: America, they have electricity right?

M: Yes, but in America, electricity has been there for so long that now, if it stops, life stops. Here, if there is no electricity, it's not a problem.

B: You should bring us a generator, it will be sweet for you.

M: Fine, if god wills it.

The conversation was slightly longer and took about two hours to get through. I just could not make them see that a generator would not really make their lives any better. I didn't even get into the fact that they would have to buy gas for the thing which would give them even less money for food. Ah well. Kala Suuru.

Irikoy Bere

2006-06-12T04:09:00.000-04:00

A little over a week ago, some college students from I forget where University arrived at Hamdalleye, our training site, on our last night of IST. We, being the loving helpful individuals we are, had all manner of fun tricks planned to truly acquaint them with Nigerien life. Among these were such things as hiding all the toilet paper, thus forcing them to "go native" (it involves a small plastic teapot). Also great effort was to go into displaying just how crazy 4 months in the bush had made us.

However as fate would have it, their arrival coincided with the first real rain. This was the first real rain any of us had seen in over 4 months. No effort was needed to look crazy before the bewildered and somewhat frightened college students.

I survived hot season and rainy season has begun. What no one ever tells you is that it's still hot, now it just rains sometimes. But that's ok, because the rain is nice, and now there are clouds which help screen us from the evil glowing day ball. Stepping out of my house at midday doesn't make me feel like an ant under a magnifying glass anymore.

While the first rain at Hamdalleye was wonderful in it's newness, it didn't really leave much of a mark. In the morning everything was as dry as before. However last Thursday night we got a nice big rainstorm just after sunset in my village. My villagers tried to get me to stay hiding in my house from all the wind and the rain, but I kept leaving to enjoy the cold. That one thing bears emphasizing. The rain here is cold. Very cold. And it can sting when it really get's going. But it's rain and the cold feels so good for as long as you can stand it.

Anyway, the rain lasted a few hours. After that it was safe to go sleep outside again (it's like sleeping in an oven if I sleep inside). Then next morning all my villagers were out in their fields planting away. It was quite an impressive site. My maigari had been planning to come into Niamey with me, but he approached me in the morning and we had the following conversation:

Maigari: I am not going to Niamey. I need to plant.

Me: Yes, you should plant.

I don't really know why I bothered typing that, but the simplicity of some of the conversations here still amuses me and I felt you should have a taste. Of course that was all in Zarma at the time.

I would like to take a moment to talk about the weather I have seen in the past week. I have been constantly complaining about the fact that there is no weather to speak of in this country, just varying degrees of hotness and sometimes some wind and dust. Well with the onset of rainy season that has all changed.

Starting a few days before the rain I just mentioned, I bore witness to some of the most fantastic displays of lightning I have ever imagined. Huge clouds would begin rolling in around the already gorgeous sunset, so you've got this vivid array of pastels and neons surrounded by a sea of grey and black shadows. And within these shadows flashes of light would occur with varying frequency. Once it got going though, I would see a fork of lighting every few seconds. But the most amazing thing is when the lightning would ripple across the sky. I shit you not it looked just like those preposterous lightning effects they use in movies when some sort of electronic array gets short circuited or whatever. It was amazing. Just these blue serpents of light worming their way through the clouds. What made all this even more phenominal was that for the longest time, it was all happening far enough away that it took place in silence. It was both fantastic and Eerie.

Fast forward. Friday, as I set off for Niamey, watching all my villagers starting to make little divets in their fields to plan the millet, I noted an impressive mass of clouds across the river behind me. I marveled at the constantly changing skyskape while I walked the seven kilometers to the paved road where I would pick up a bush taxi. I watched as the undulating mass slowly, well not quite so slowly as I would have liked, encroached on the clear blue skys ahead of me. Have you ever actually watching clouds form? Seemed like every time I blinked there were new clouds or the ones already there were bigger. I watched this display for about an hour mesmerized by how wonderfully elaborate and improbable our world is. Then the rain caught up with me with about 2.5k left to go. I spent the next 2.5 hours with not a dry spot on my body, freezing cold either hiding in a random villager's hut, waiting for a bush taxi, or having Nigeriens laugh at the shivering anasara on the bush taxi.

Maybe rainy season isn't all wonderful.

Stuck in Niamey

2006-06-06T02:58:00.000-04:00

So I was supposed to return to post yesterday, in sha allah. But apparently god did not will it. Here's why.

Last week on Friday, the University students here in Niamey staged a protest. I don't know the details but basically the government has been cracking down on scholorship money, trying to make the students actually earn it by doing well. Well apparently they were holding back the money for this term or year or whatever, and the students got pissed. So they took over one of the commuter busses and drove it to the Ministry of Education. Once inside they lit 10 cars, inluding the ministers, on fire. The gendarmes were called in and I believe nearly 100 people were arrested and many were injured.

This is all just what I recall from what our Safety and Security guy told us, so I know I'm forgeting a lot of details and stuff.

Anyway, that over, the middle and high schools decided to stage demonstrations yesterday in support of the university students. They were much more organized and spread to various locations in the city in smaller clusters. So for most of yesterday we were restricted to the area of Niamey between the bureau and the hostel.

The reason this put such a damper on my movements is that to get to my post I have to cross the JFK bridge to the part of the city called Haro Banda (behind water), which is also where the university is located. The bridge seems to be a key location in the periodic protests from the students. So all bureau cars travelling through haro banda were cancelled yesterday and PCV's were strongly advised not to travel through that part of the city. Hopefully I'll get out today.

On a side note, yesterday I mentioned learning how to make demi-lunes and gully plugs. Well someone asked me to explain what those were and it seemed that other people might like to know as well. So here's an excerpt from my email to that person:

Demi-lunes are basically semicircular pits that are dug with a raised wall on
the round side, and the flat side facing up hill. The idea is to catch rain
water as it runs downhill and thus creat a small bit of land that is stays damp
for several days. The ground dries up very quickly here otherwise. A farmer or
forestry agent can then plant a few crops or trees within one of these
demi-lunes. The basic forestry version is about 3m in diameter but can be
much larger for agricultural uses.

To make a gully plug you simply
find a gully that has been eroded by rushing rain water and you build a sort of
speed bump for the water out of rocks or brush. This causes the silt carried by
the water to be deposited on one side of the plug, eventually eliminating the
gully and restoring the surrounding field to fertile topsoil.

So there you are. Hopefully I'll get out of here today.

It's been a busy two weeks

2006-06-05T03:55:00.000-04:00

I just finished my In Service Training last Friday. It was great to see everyone from stage again, though I think 2+months in the bush has seriously made us all go a little mad. There was no end to wackyness during our time back in Hamdallaye.

For starters a whole bunch of us shaved our heads the first week. That's right, I am now bald, or atleast mostly bald. 6 of us, plus one of our bosses indulged in the bare scalp experience. 3 of us even had orange boubous made so we look like Hari Krishnas (sp?). Now there's a joke going around that we've started a cult...and it looks like it when we parade through Niamey together.

IST was much different than PST (pre service training). PST was all about language and cross culture. We basically learned what we needed to be able to survive and have the skills to get around Niger. IST saw us spending our time in sessions aimed at how to do our job. This included some more technical sessions such as how and why you build demi-lunes and gully plugs or how to treat animal fodder with urea to improve animal growth. Other sessions taught us how to go about finding funding for projects and such.

By far the most exhausting part was the homologue conference. During this our Nigerien counterparts were invited to stay for two days and go through a series of sessions regarding the Peace Corps goals. We also had some joint sessions where we discussed mutual expectations and cultural differences in the workplace. It was amusing to see that the Nigerien and American Values were almost opposite on many respects, for instance respecting prayer time and social obligations came first and formost for them.

When we met with them one on one to discuss our work plan of action it was hard. My homologue works for the NGO Gajel Sudababa, which it turns out is a nation wide organization that does a wide variety of projects working with herders. He basically showed up to the conference with a whole plan of projects to be done over the next year that they wanted me to work on. I'll admit I'm a little overwhelmed as this wasn't really how I had expected things to work coming out of training. Though I suspect I have more freedom to work than it seemed during the conference. It didn't help that there weren't enough teachers to translate for all the people and so I basically spent an hour listening to him explain this all in Zarma. It took so much focus and concentration to get most of it that I was utterly brain dead afterward.

We've all been hanging out here in Niamey this weekend as we slowly scatter back to the four corners of Niger. I'm looking forward to getting back to post as I have been gone for the better part of a month now. Though i will be back next weekend for a meeting. I'd like to spend a long time at post sometime soon, but it seems like that's gonna be harder than I thought. Oh well. Kala suuru.

I have a project! (sort of)

2006-05-14T03:09:00.000-04:00

But first an update on my stage:

Back in January, 27 strangers met in Philadelphia with one thing in common: they all thought spending 2 years in Niger was a nifty idea. Shortly after meeting for the first time these 27 strangers were whisked away to one of the poorest countries in Africa. 4 days later the first one went home. But that's ok, he was still mostly a stranger, and there were still 26 of those.

After 2 weeks, everyone had gotten to know each other pretty well. So it was very sad when 2 more people decided to leave. Before training was over, 2 more had decided this wasn't for them, and went home.

We all hoped that would be the end. That those who made it through training would stick it out. Well, since then we've lost two more. Richard left after the first month at post. Seth left this weekend. We're gonna miss you guys. 27 strangers have been reduced to 20 friends who hate to see each other leave.

But enough of that melancholy business. I have a project to work on! The other day the school director in my village told me he wants my help in getting the students to start a peppiniere(sp?) which is basically a tree nursery. This will require getting seeds and little plastic bags to plant the trees in (Seth was kind enough to leave some of these for me, Thanks!). Fencing is also a must, unless we want them to be eaten by the cows and the goats.

I'm not going to start on this project until after IST (in service training) which is a week from now, becuase that's where we'll learn how to get funding and actually execute projects. But I've started figuring out what I need and what I need the school to do. It's nice to have direction again.

Now some of you may be saying "but Seabass, I though you were going there to take care of animals, not play with trees." Well I suppose I should fill you in on what it turns out my job is really.

Many of you remember that I got a nice little letter from peace corps that gave me the job title of Agriculture - Small Animal Husbandry Agent or something impressive sounding like that. Well it turns out those don't really mean much, as they just represent the need spot that you got picked to fill. The only part that matters, for my stage, is Agriculture vs Natural Resource Management (or AG and NRM). This determines what you will be trained in during stage.

During the tech sessions of training, the AG's basically did gardening activities and the NRM's did trees. The truth of the matter is really, that AG's and NRM's overlap a lot. This is why we are trained together (the health volunteers and the education volunteers are trained together). It also seems very much that AG vs NRM has almost no reflection on your background, as our stage has a lot philosophy, poli sci, and other non farming type majors. So the fact that I will now be doing a NRM project as an AG volunteer is not surprising, nor does it really matter as we're all basically just field volunteers. The titles just make it seem like we know something.

On the other hand, I am frequently told that Animal Husbandry, as opposed to Forestry, Agroforestry, Ag extension, etc., is one of the specialized job titles that actually means something. It just isn't necessarily the same as the initial job description you're sent back in the states. The long and short of it is that I have been placed in a herder village in order to work with some local organizations within the village and also some larger NGO's in the area that are involved with live stock. How this will manafest I have yet to learn, as we're told not to really start work for the first 3 months. But the basic jist is that at some point I'll be working with cows and possibly goats and sheep to try and improve the income and what not of the village.

I'm sure I'll learn a great deal more about all this when I go to IST in a week. In the mean time I can tell you that some agents of the International Livestock Research Fund are right down the road from my village, so hopefully I will get to work with them at some point. I was also introduced to a guy who works with Veterinarians Without Borders at swear in, but have yet to hear anything more about that.

More insight into my village.

2006-05-01T07:18:00.000-04:00

After a much needed phone call with a friend of mine, I have been ordered to post some of the information about my village that she pried from me. So here you go:

As I have said I am living in a fulani village. Fulani villages tend to be very spread out rather than clustered as we tend to think of villages. Each family has it's own little cluster of huts, sometimes enclosed by a millet stalk fence. As a result, my village of roughly 1200 fulanis covers 32 square kilometers.

There is a laterite road that runs through this area to a small town on the riverside, but within the actual village the only roads are foot paths through the millet fields leading between all the various family clusters. A few roads are wider do to Ox cart traffic. There's no "main street" or anything like that. As far as I know there aren't really any stores or real businesses within my village. Everyone goes to the riverside town to buy things like rice, sugar, cigarettes, kerosine, etc. Although we do have a school and a new mosque is currently under construction.

Living with the traditional herders is quite interesting. Unlike American farmers, their animals aren't really kept enclosed (though after feeding the cows my Maigari owns go into a corral(sp?) for the night). Usually a teenage boy takes the cows out of the millet fields to pasture where there is, I'm guessing, more food. I haven't yet followed one of the boys on these excursions, but I frequently see small herds of cattle walking along the paths. Goats and sheep it seem just roam free, but tend to stay close to their owners little hamlet since they get fed there. The goats get into all kinds of mischief trying to steel food and such. And then there's the chickens which are just a part of the general ambiance and are everywhere. Also, every evening I sit with my maigari and litterally watch the cows come home to be fed. They come right into the middle of his compound and mill about the cooking fires and the huts while the sons go around and put pots of food down for some of the cows, and hit the others with sticks to keep them from eating the food. It seems this food is more of a supliment to whatever they forage out in the fields rather than their only meal. Though many of the cows are quite skinny.

With the village so spread out I can't imagine that people actually interact with more than the families in their immediate area. Though my Maigari does seem to know most people I've seen. The weekly market seems to be the prime social opportunity. Everyone goes and hangs out and what not.

Market is loud and overwhelming. There is a bus that comes along the laterite road once in the morning and once in the evening on market day to bring people up to the market. So if I go, I'm stuck there for about 5hrs, unless I walk back beneath the burning sun. I've made friends with one of the vendors from my village who lets me hang out underneath is shade hanger, which offers some protection. However, I still get bombarded with people asking for cadeau's from the rich anasara while I'm trying read or write in my journal to pass the time. But it's worth it to be able to stock up on fresh onions for the week and buy anything else I might need or want that I can't get in the riverside town. I look forward to getting my bike (sometime next month) as the road to and from market is very much rideable. Also it slopes slightly toward home so I can mostly coast when I'm returning.

They always tell us that every PCV's experience will be different. In my village I am very much a part of the maigari's family. They help me with everything and look after me. I don't seem to have quite as much privacy as some other volunteers, as my concession is right there in the maigari's family compound. On the other hand, I feel like my integration into the community has been happening a lot faster than it would have otherwise. Though I do constantly look for ways to show them that I am independant and able to take care of myself.

I hope this has added to what I've already posted regarding my site and helps bring the picture into a little sharper focus. I sometimes forget what I have and haven't told people due to frequent discussions with other PCV's, writing letters, emails, phone calls etc. So if there is any aspect of my service that I have not posted about and you would like me to, send me an email and ask. It saves me from having to htink of things to post.

Shout out.

2006-04-07T19:05:00.000-04:00

I'm curious as to who is reading my blog. If you are reading it, please drop me an email via the links on this page. I'm just kind of curious since I never see any comments or anything.

Homesick

2006-04-07T17:30:00.000-04:00

Some people feel it when they go to summer camp for the first time. For others it hits when they go away to college. I had to go half way around the world to a climate, culture, and setting completely and utterly different from my home before I felt homesick for the first time. So I guess that's saying something.

I'm in Niamey earlier than the one month that I was supposed to stay at post (came in to shop and talk to the doc) so I may as well make a post. Basically, this first month is painful and wonderful. I wake up feeling well enough. It's fairly cool and I listen to the radio while I drink my coffee (instant) and make my breakfast. Then I go out and chat with the villagers and what not and try to work even though they don't let me. It's great and I love it!

Then the heat comes.

We're talking 113 in the shade heat. Breathing makes you sweat heat. It's awful. And I can't do anything. Even if I had projects to work on at this point, I couldn't. So I sit in my house. And read. And write. And play solitaire. And think. That's the bad part. I think about all the things I would be doing on an equally unproductive afternoon in the states. And it sucks and I think about going home. It would be so easy.

But somehow I make it to 5 o'clock. Then the heat breaks. I bathe. I wander outside and chat. And I start to feel that maybe being here isn't so bad again. So I set about making my dinner and listening to the BBC. Then I chat with people some more. By 9 when I'm thinking about bed I'm happy and enjoying life and I can't wait until tomorrow when I get to have oatmeal and coffee and great the morning again.

And so life goes for me in this crazy cycle. Do to the odd circumstances of my post, which I won't detail, I don't get to see other Americans as often as some of the other volunteers. So I bit the bullet and came into Niamey early to do some shopping and check with the med officer about some things (don't worry I'm fine health wise - haven't been sick once yet - knock on wood).

Anyway, that's all for now really. In the meantime, for those of you who are so inclined I have come up with an initial list of things that I will always be delighted to find in any sort of care package:

Beef Jerky
Burned CD's (A new mix of music is always good. Please no mp3 cds)
Drink mixes (gatorade, iced tea, koolade, etc.)
Books
Any instant foods (ie. Ramen, Mac and Cheese, pasta sauces, soups, etc.)
M&M's and Skittles
Cookies
Batteries (AA are good but AAA are better)
PHOTOS!!!!

That's all for now I think. Anything specific I'll come up with and ask for later. As a final note. Despite how it may seem in portions of this post I am doing quite well. My post is fantastic and I'm starting to establish somewhat of a routine that includes pushing myself a little more everytime the opportunity presents itself. So don't worry, I'm not planning on coming home too soon. I need to atleast survive hot season for bragging rights :-P TTFN

Almost there!

2006-03-17T08:15:00.000-05:00

Well, in about 3 hrs my swear-in ceremony will start and I will become an official Peace Corps Volunteer. It's hard to believe that my service here is only just about to begin. All that's happened so far has just been prep.

I'm really psyched about my village. As I said, I'm living with Fulanis, the herders of Niger. I totally win at posts. My village is really spread out, with each family group having it's own little compound int eh middle of their fields. I'm in the Maigari's (mayor) compound with his two wives and all his grown up sons. My concession is huge and I have a huge two room house (maybe 20ft square). Also my neighbor has a tv with solar panel. I'm 7k along a laterite road to the paved road where my sunday market is. That's also where I would go to get a bush taxi to Niamey. Also I'm so rediculously close to Niamey it's stupid.

Alternatively, I can go down the laterite road teh other way to the neighboring village which is only about 3k from my house. This town is a more typical denser town than mine. It even has power after 6pm...so all my villagers go there to charge their cell phones. This is also right on the Niger River...so I'm only a 20min walk from the river, a cool breeze, and fish. I spent about half my time There while on site visit. From There I can take a boat across the river to a town that has a Saturday market, and then get a taxi there to Niamey. All in all, from my door I can be at the PC Bureau in 2hrs.

I've already gotten in well with some of my villagers. One of the Maigari's sons has been very good at getting me out of my house and meeting people. Every day pretty much we would go down to the river and see if there were any fish for sale and hang out with people in that village. In the evenings he would bring me to the school director's house in my village to drink tea and chat with all teh neighboring men in the village. Nigerian tea is amazing. It's so concentrated it's like espresso, and then they add a shit ton of suger. It's so good.

Anyway, so I've met a good number of relevent people in the village and gotten on well with them. I'm really psyched to get to post and really get settled. But first I have to party hardy after I finally get sworn in. After tonight, I'll actually be a PCV and not just another wannabe.

BTW. this will probably be my last post for the next month as I'm not supposed to come to Niamey for my first month. So that said...kala hando fo.

A word on Avian Flu.

2006-02-25T09:18:00.000-05:00

Avian flu is very much a concern for us PCT's and PCV's right now. Last I heard there were cases all along the Nigerian border with Niger. There have also been some bird die off's in the Zinder region of Niger, though they have not yet been attributed to avian flu.

Also, we've been told that if avian flu becomes rampant in Niger, there will be measures taken to ensure the safety of us. It is my understanding that if bird to human transmission happens multiple times ina region, volunteers from that region will be pulled back. If human to human transmission happens, there is a chance of a full evacuation. I really don't like to think about the possibility of being pulled out shortly after swear in, but it's there.

I'm not 100% on any of these measures, but you can probably find out more info from the PC bureau itself. I know that there are a variety of sources in Peace Corps that have all this info.

It's about to get real.

2006-02-25T08:53:00.000-05:00

Holy crap! I can't believe 6 weeks of training are now behind me. I've been so busy that the time has just flown by. Let me try and give you an idea of what the last month and a half have been like.

I wake up everymorning around dawn (I actually get up at 7 pretty consistantly). After dismantalling my mosquito net and locking everything in my hut, I walk the one kilometer and change to the training site, which sits atop a mesa overlooking the town of Hamdallaye (Hamdy for short).

After breakfast on site, I have an hour and a half of language class. Then we get a half hour coffee break and snack before we have some other session (different everyday, but always a med session on a tuesday or thursday). Then we have lunch and another hour and half language class. If it's market day, tuesday, we get 2 hours for lunch instead of the usual one. Then we have another miscellaneous session, usually a "tech" session where the Ag and NRM trainees have separate sessions. Usually for us Ag's it's something about gardening. Then it's Beer o'clock (5pm) and we have an hour before they kick us out for the night. After that it's just chilling and having dinner with our host families. On Tues and Thurs we have evening language classes, which are optional.

Obviously that's the basic schedule, but on various days we have all kinds of special activities or trips that result in a different schedule. Somehow they've manage to perfect a busy schedule that still seems to result in a reasonable amount of downtime...which is usually spent mentally preparing for more grinding away at language.

The level of cultural immersion that they force us into still blows my mind. They only give us 2 nights before they thrust us into our host families with only a handful of flashcards with useful phrases to help us communicate. Every night there after they make sure we cannot hide away on the hill. The first night they loaded us into the cars to take us out to our host families I was terrified and more excited than I've ever been. I can definately see that working up the courage to go out and try to integrate yourself socially is the biggest challenge of peace corps... but it's so rewarding too. The first night I just sat there on the mat with my roomate while all the children clustered around us pointing at things and saying words I had no understanding of. I could not stop grinning.

At first it was breathtaking how fast I picked up language. I had to. My family and teachers speak very little english or they speak french at best. So I was constantly picking up new phrases and words. Also, classes are small (3 or 4 trainees per teacher) so you can't hide in the back and not participate. Now it's slowed down quite a bit. But my grammer get's better everyday as I practice talking in Zarma all the time. Classes now mostly consist of sitting around and chatting.

So yeah, that's been the last 6 weeks for me. It's been awsome. But tomorrow, it really starts. Tomorrow we all leave for our site visits. Tomorrow they take us out to our villages, drop us in our concessions, and we stay there for a week. It'll be our first taste of life in the bush. After that we have another 2 weeks of training before we swear in as real PCV's.

Last I heard, I had a house, but no latrine and no concession wall. The way houses work around here is you basically have your own little walled compound, usually fairly small, with a house or hut enclosed inside. Within that we also get a latrine and bath area with their own walls. Think of it as having a house that just doesn't have a roof, except for one or two rooms. So anyway, I'm hoping I atleast have a concession wall when I get there, as otherwise I'll be forced to hide in my house when I want privacy, and that can be hot. Anyway, needless to say I'm really excited to see my post and meet my villagers.

I'll be living in a Fulani village. The Fulans are one of many ethnic groups in Niger and are nomadic hearders traditionally. My dad is correct in that I will have the oportunity to learn a 3rd language, fulfulde. Though Zarma will be sufficient for my work. I'll also be really close to an ICRSAT research facility. ICRSAT does research on improved hybrid seeds, so I'm excited to work with them. I don't really know much more about my post than that, but I'm excited to see it.

I guess that's all for now, it's nice to actually have teh time to make a real post. Please keep sending letters! I can't tell you how much getting a letter makes my day. And if you want to send care packages those are great too. Also there are many people who's addresses I did not get before I left, so I can't write you back until you write me first.

Kala tonton!

Seabass in the Peace Corps

2006-02-24T23:53:00.000-05:00

Hello Friends and Relatives of Sebastian,

Last Saturday we were able to speak to "Peace Bass" in Niger and he sounds just wonderful! His language skills are increasing, especially due to his host family, and he can even haggle with shop keepers in the marketplace, adding to his kitchen supplies for his new crib. There are no doubts that he finds life in Africa an awesome experience!

The PCV's are now traveling out to visit other established PCV's at their posts to see what it is really like in the bush. Thinks he might eventually get a donkey, although some volunteers have camels of their own (difference between buying a Mercedes and a Chevy). Also, and this will come as no surprise, he will probably get a cat (to take care of the scorpion problem).

He will be posted in the Say Region, which is on the West Bank of the Niger. Seems he will be restarting a program which hasn't been in operation by the Peace Corps for years. At least he will be able to get into Niamey periodically. His "concession" is under construction and will have two rooms - for which he is excited.

The food is quite good over there and he has been housed with the "Best Cook in Town". However, he still requests coffee (all they have is Nescafe) and beef jerky. Guess the beef jerky goes well with Nigerien beer!

Seabass sounds busy but very happy. His "stage" (pronounced stahj) is a great group of PCV's and he hopes to be posted near to some.

He sends his good wishes to all and really appreciates your letters and photos. Will keep you updated on his exciting venture!

PeaceBass' Mom

a few more recollections (some repetitious) by Seabass's Dad, from the phone call:

The people Seabass will be working amongst are mainly herders and nomadic people, who live off their cattle, though they are nomadic less and less, as modern pressures make that less viable. There will probably be experiments with new types of feedstock, to make the best of the circumstances.

If people send him packages, he has to pay to get them, though it does not seem to make much difference how big and heavy they are. But if stuff is sent by DHL, he does not have to pay.

He says it is not like the stereotype of Africa - it isn't full of bright colored clothes and constant drumming and all that. Everything is functional and to the point.

The night sky has not been especially wonderful yet, since they are not very high up, and there is often dust in the air, but the full moon is incredible - no need for even a flashlight in the full moon. He climbs up one of the hilly things whose names I do not remember, looks around in the moonlight, and reflects "Holy Crap. We're really in Africa." The views are amazing, he says.

If anyone wants to email pictures to him, he would love to see them. He can access them when he gets into a cybercafe in Niamey, which should be fairly easy every couple of weeks or so.

He loves haggling in the market place - it all sounds rather like the bazaar in "Life of Brian" where it is an insult NOT to haggle. But it doesn't help him learn the names of all the strange vegetables he sees, since whatever he points to, asking "What is that?" the answer comes back "sauce ingredient." He is lucky to be living with a great cook, who makes rice with sauce every day - he hasn't even eaten millet yet!, and everyday the sauce is completely different, but always made of "sauce ingredients".

It is getting hot, and 110°F in the shade is a bit much. He finds it hard to keep active in that. But the main instructions for how to survive boil down to these two:

Don't eat poo. (Poo is everywhere)
Boil your water.

He has a turban, but has not learned to use it yet. They are good things though, as they keep the dust out of your hair. He's settling in well, so the calls for prayer at 5 in the morning don't even wake him up. But when the guinea fowls start squawking - THAT wakes him up.

He yearns for good coffee, beef jerky, cigars, M&Ms, Irish Spring Soap. They drink unbelievably strong tea, stewed for an hour and a half. He has a mohawk, his hair standing straight up, using soap as a gel. Who would have thunk it!

Not only will he almost certainly get a cat, (see above) but he will probably inherit a dog, too. Dogs there do not really come in recognizable breeds - they are "dogs", of a vaguely greyhoundy type, and most of them are mean because they get hit a lot.

Since he is going to open new territory, he will have to learn a third language, though I didn't catch the name. I think Sabra has figured it out.

Greetings are tremendously important, and every time you meet someone you have to go through the whole gamut of good wishes and declaring everything to be wonderful, before you can either get down to business or admit that you are about to die from contagious epilepsy. Added to every comment and exchange are words that mean "God Willing" and, even more, "have patience". When the bus is three hours late "Have Patience"! If you agree to meet at 10 tomorrow, it will only be "God willing."

While they are doing the training, the magical moment is 5 o'clock, which is when certain purchases can be made. Thus it is known as "beer o'clock." But if the beer vendor does not show up, well, "have patience."

Seabass really does sound great, and is completely involved with this rich experience. They must think highly of him to entrust him with opening new territory. So I say "Go SeaB!"

PCBass's Dad

Seabass in the Peace Corps

Hey everyone!

2006-02-17T06:49:00.000-05:00

Hey everyone, I'm alive. We're in Niamey for the day and I managed to sneak onto a computer. Just want to tell everyone that I'm doing well and that I really am loving it here...except the heat which is getting worse and worse as we approace hot season.I found out that I am going to be posted in the Say region just 32k from Niamey, so I will probably be able to post and check email fairly frequently, atleast every two weeks I'm guessing. Anyway, just thought I'd toss up a quick post. Oh and Thanks to Sam for all the awsome pics. I didn't realize how much I missed the UVM/Burlington crew until I got the pics of everyone. Anyway, don't want to tie up the computers for other volunteers who are waiting, so I'll sign off. Once I get posted, in about 3 weeks I think (I loose track of time like crazy here) then I'll probably be on here more regularly. That's all for now, Peace!

Seabass

Zarma

2006-02-03T10:44:00.000-05:00

Zarma appears to be the African Language SeaBass is learning, so those of us who want to understand his future posts might find this a useful link.

I am sure we shall all be fluent in no time.

SeaBass's Dad

Seabass in the Peace Corps

The Word Arrives from the East

2006-02-02T18:49:00.000-05:00

Hello everyone!

Mate ni go? That means “how are you doing” in Zarma. I honestly don’t even know where to begin. This is easily the most exciting, awesome, and surreal thing I have ever done!

I’ll start with my impression of Niger. Hot and Sandy. Lots of sand. It gets pretty cool at night (maybe 60ish) so I can survive. The landscape is very red with pale green shrubs & trees dotting it. Livestock roams all over the towns: goats, donkeys, chickens, guinea fowl, etc. Goats mostly roam just outside of town. Did not see much of Niamey except on the bus ride out to ********, the town where the training center is.

The people here are amazing. Despite being in the poorest country in the world, they are always laughing. The ******** are very helpful and all speak a little English if not a great deal, and also French, in addition to either Zarma or Hausa. They are all very willing and eager to help with anything. The entire staff on site is great.

Yesterday we moved in with our host families. My adoptive father is -------, and he named me -------- (who I am sharing a hut with) -------. So yeah, I have a hut-mate from my training group. I cannot tell you how amazing this experience is! After a day of classes, &&&&& and I return to our family's village (just outside the town of *********) to eat dinner. kkkkkk and his children then spend the night teaching us Zarma until we say “Ay farga” or “I’m tired”. This is the most amazing way to learn about a culture. Absolutely terrifying but amazing. Everytime I get a phrase right and hear them exclaim “A bori” it feels great.

I can see how this is the most challenging part of PC. After classes we have 2 hrs free time at the site. We all spent that time building the courage to return and face our family. It’s terrifying, until I start talking to them. Then I feel no fear, just [sic] excitement.

Also, the stars here are gorgeous, even in town. I can’t wait to see them in the bush. We landed on Friday the 13th on a full moon. Good thing Friday 13th means nothing in Islam. Even so, the full moon is really bright, so the stars seem much less brilliant by comparison. I really love it here and have no doubt in my mind that this was the right decision.

I just took my first bucket bath, by moonlight. It was very interesting. I think I can get used to it. The cockroaches are friendly at least and I feel surprisingly clean. I haven’t gotten sick yet either. Two people have gotten sick and gone to Niamey. One came back today. I hope noone from my state ends up going home, they’re all really cool people.

Anyway, I think that’s all for now. Call to prayer starts at 5am and ay farga. Halla a ton ton.

Love,

Seabass

P.S. send photos!!!!

The Seabass has been Landed

2006-01-27T21:18:00.000-05:00

A sighting has occurred of Seabass in Niger.

If you want to take a peek, he can be found here, sitting at the bottom right, at least that is our best guess.

If you want to go to the blog
his mother found this picture on: well that was the place to click.

Best wishes,

Seabass's Dad.
(pictures found by Seabass's Mom.)

Seabass in the Peace Corps

Fwd: Testing

2006-01-08T21:32:00.000-05:00

I am testing the post via email method. I will have regular, though
infrequent, internet access. Directly posting may be unreliable, but I
may be able to post via email at times. Still, snail mail letters
posted by my parents will probably be the most common method of
update.

What is this?

2006-01-08T20:40:00.000-05:00

The day after tomorrow I will be flying to Philadelphia, and 2 days later to Niger, to start my 2 year and change commitment to the Peace Corps. A great many of my friends and acquaintances have expressed a desire for me to keep in touch. Now while I definately plan to send the odd postcard and such to everyone I can, that's a lot of people who would like to hear from me regularly...and I'm just not that good at letters.

In an effort to decrease the number of letters I will have to write, and to ensure that I don't start to abandon some people, I created this blog. In addition to individual letters I will send my parents regular "public" letters, which they will post here for all of you to read. You can all then feel free to write me replies...or simply discuss my activities amongst eachother through the comments. I also hope that I will find some convenient and reliable way to get pictures out to my folks so that they can be scanned and posted here also.

I think that this seems to be the easiest solution and I hope that we can keep it going throughout my tour. Maybe it can even be found by others who are thinking of applying and want some insight into the experience. Thank you all and I look forward to your letters as much as you do mine.