Random stories of the Week

Once again, a little over one week later and I'm back on the computer! (its pretty exciting)... As I was trying to come up with some kind of fascinating topic, I decided why not just share a few of my more amusing stories of the week...

So, the other day, I went with some of my villagers to a bridal wedding party thing, which, when one of my village friends anked if I wanted to come, I think she was slightly suprised when I said I wanted to go because this village we went to was over 13 K away. But they were really excited that I wanted to come, so I guess the hour and a half bush walk there and back was worth it.

Anyway, the actual 'party' was, lets be honest, about 4 hours of sitting in a house listening to the other women talk in rapid Hausa, but we did eat a meal there which was very generous- usually one or two big trays are layed out with tuwo (millet mush) and sauce or rice and sauce and everyone eats from the same tray, but as I got up to join the other women on the mat (they insisted that I sit in a chair) the host shooed me back to my chair and handed me my own bowl... this is certainly not the first time I've been insisted upon to not join the others in the communal dish, and I know they are doing it out of respect, but I dont think they realize I'm feel'n a little excluded... lol! I dont know if they think I'll get sick if I eat with everyone else, or if they don't think I'll eat fast enough, but I always get my own... and a spoon ( I don't think they think I'm capable of eating with my hands- oh but I am). The other funny part is they always seem to add and extra dolup of oil, possibly thinking I'm going, 'mmmm, more grease!', but like I say, it's all out of respect and is very nice of them.

One other thing about this 'party' is that I've noticed there really isn't 'inside vrs. outside' voices here... maybe because theyre outside every hour of the day, but they all seem to have one volume- and its not quiet.

Anyway, as we were walking back from this village, there were a couple cars coming up behind us on the road, and as they all moved to the side, a few of the people shouted, "Balkissa! You should get on the other side! Then you can flag them down! You're white- they'll give you a ride!" (this really was a pretty close translation) when I laughed and continued walking, doing no more than waving as the car sped by, they all couldn't believe I haden't used my "forgiener" card to get a free ride. I casually told them I didnt mind walking, and then mentioned that it was a car from the Jica organization (similar to peace corps, but from Japan) they responded with, "oooh, they speak Japanise" and assumed that was the reason I didn't flag them down and hop a ride. I just let that one slide.

I have a lot of interesting discussions with villagers, some of my favorites having been trying to explain 'weird' customs us Americans have. One day I asked a villager what their camel's name was... "Camel" he replied. Then I tried to explain, yes, it's a camel, but does it have a name? "CAMEL!" was again my answer... so then I explained that in America, people give their animals names like people have names. He thought that was HILARIOUS... then I named his camel Frank- somehow something got lost in translation and he was like, "No, it's a Camel"... I gave up.

Another fun discussion I had, well, slightly embarrasing, was that I was talking to some ladies about the sand. (we run out of topics fast). I expained that in america, people make little mini houses out of sand, and wondered why kids didnt make sandcastles here... she got a confused and then as I looked around I realized why... the entire village is made out of mud-brick. I felt stupid.

BIG NEWS: I just want everyone to know that I made a chocolate pound cake... in the bush. You may not realize, but that is a big accomplishment when all you have is a gas cookstove. (I double-boiled that thing and it was amazing.) I have realized that life in the bush has, if nothing else, made me increadibly creative in my cooking.

So yesterday was my birthday (big 24)!!! won't go into much detail, but went up to Tahoua, had a pretty amazing "funfetti cake 'n' frosting" and had a pretty good time :) the end.

Birthdays and Sunas

I would just like to point out it has only been a little over a week since my last post, I'm pretty sure that's some kind of record...
However, since is has been so recient, Im not really sure what to write about...
First off, my b-day is on the 17th and I will be 24! I feel so old. It's an interesting question to ask villagers how old they are, my typical answers have been, "um... I dont know" (if theyre being honest), "50" (this was from a woman I am more than possitive was pushing 85+), or with kids, they all seem to be 7 or 8... (not sure I buy) But it just seems really interesting to me, comming from a culture in which so much emphasis is put on how old you are and your birthday, to come here where most people dont know or care. I keep just wanting to ask, but wait, isnt it a big deal??? I think we put maybe a little too much emphasis on individual b-days (I say this AFTER my b-day packages have been sent) however, the age thing is good argument- I think I've seen possibly 13-year-olds drive down the street on motorcycles.. a bit scary.
They do however have a "Baby-Naming Ceremony" exactly one week after the baby is born. They usually have guests all day, possibly some music and dancing, and they usually give out food of some kind and meat (if they have the money for it). I recently went to a Fulani baby-naming ceremony (or 'Suna' as they call it, meaning 'name') waaaaay out in the bush from my village. I actually kinda felt honored, first the father found me in the village one day, several days before, and asked me if I would come, which I was really wishy-washy, and said oh, maybe... then the day before two fulani girls showed up in the middle of a class I was attending and asked if I was still coming so at that point I felt obligated..
So, I admit, I thought as I started walking out to the Suna with one of my friends (who happens to be the "50" year old woman going on 85...) that I was going to an actual village. If I'd have thought about it I probably would have remembered that these Fulanis, as many do, lived and moved with their livestock, setting up encampments for a few months at a time. So it was really interesting to show up in the middle of the bush, where they had set up their life under the shade of a few trees. They were all so suprised that I had actually made the effort to head out there, it was pretty great. (Not to mention I gave up going to horse racing with a few other PCVs to go.. or I thought I was, it ended up getting canceled)
Anyway, I did take some pictures, but once again, not really in a position to be able to put them on here, so anjima I will get them up... or send them to my mom and SHE'll get them up :) (right?)

January 29th... into the bush and out of the bush...

In and out of the bush... I feel like I'm living a double life! Not that I'm a whole different person, but village life definately differs from that of hostel life, and I've come to realize they are both sooo equally important.
So, not much new, just the average Niger living... Heres a little sampler:
7:00-ish am (sunrise): get up, make myself a delicious breakfast of warm milk and peanut-butter cous-cous (ok, lets talk a little about oh-so-necissary food staples of bush life; A)Powdered milk- I'm partial to the Nido and France Lait brands, and B) a nice, au-naturalle peanut butter (I buy it in bulk- aka, I bring an empty powdered milk can to the guy who makes it and he fills it up))
8:00-ish (nothing's exact or 'yanzu' as many bush taxi drivers would like you to believe):put away my bedding (I sleep outside on a millet-stock bed (with matteress) under a mosquito net) do my dishes, you know, all that typical home-ec stuff... maybe a little studying after that (well, by study I mean read whichever novel I'm up to at that point- I've discovered theres a whole world of written literature out there I didnt know about...)
Somewhere between 9:30 and 10:30: take a walk around the village, stopping to chat with villagers for a couple hours (you should all be impressed that my language skills have advanced beyond greetings and talking about pounding millet... I now point at things and either ask what the names are, or announce the name ("goat!" "Chicken!"...) it's fabulous.
Noonish: back to the house- it's too hot and the sun is out. really.
1 or 2:00: now, at this point I shake things up a bit and vary my days from time to time... sometimes I go to the womens literacy class, you know, to observe, study, listen to them talk about me (they're pretty sure I don't understand- boy have I fooled them) and some days I sit and play cards with my neighbor kids- well, by play, realize that these are 10-13 year olds who I am beginning to think dont REALLY know how to play, either that or after several games I still dont understand the seamingly ever-changing rules.
4:00 ish: this is when I go hang out with some of my friends in the village, there are some wonderful people that I have met, some wonderful families that are really fun to just sit and talk with. I've also gotten henna done, and braids a few times. The people are really great and so genrous with everything they have.
S0 at 6:00 on, I take my bucket bath, make some dinner, and to be honest, Im usually in bed by 8:30... It's, as you can tell, a rough life..

So I hope that was enlightening- keep in mind this is only the typical day of my first month- once I get a little busier I'm guessing things might change a bit. :)

All Alone in the Bush

Ok, Not all alone! So, Ive been at my new post for over two weeks now, bringing my total Niger-time up to almost 3 months.. (CRAZY) Time flies...
So, recap, spent a week in my new village before Christmas, headed into the regional hostel for the festivities, a couple days later headed back out to begin the infamous 'one-month-at-post'. The first week in village was a little shakey, lets be honest. New house, new neighbors, new language, and all about 30 K from the nearest PC Voulunteer.. My villagers are really nice though, and just like moving anywhere, I knew it would take a little while to settle in and feel at home. I can now report that the village is awesome and I love every part of it (well, that three-hour walk to the main road is a bit... harsh) I'm really starting to make friends in my village and find out who I want to hang out with and work with (you know, who has the pet cat, who makes the best millett, etc..), and I'm pretty excited about the next few years.
Life's a bit slow right now as really my only responsabilities are to learn Hausa and to integrate into my community.. that leaves a lot of free time!
I've started jogging in the mornings, which is fairly amusing. My villagers find anyone who would run down the road and back, simply for the joy of it really amuzing. Exercise to them (not suprised) is an odd concept as they really just dont have the time or extra energy for wierd activites like running. It does make for good conversation though!

Bush taxi's, language exams...

So, as promised, I'm going to do my best to get some pictures up here. It has proven harder than I thought to get my pictures uploaded onto the internet because of the slow conection time, but if I cant get some on the blog, I have at least gotten some onto facebook :)

So, once again we came into Niamey today, to do a little shopping at the Large Market here as well as use the internet. So our training sight is only 30 K outside of Niamey, but let me tell you about traveling in...
So, we waited at our Tasha (like a taxi/bus station) this morning for about an hour and a half- which is actually really good- last time we waited close to three hours for a ride- and finally a medium-sized red open back truck (which looked like it drove right out of the late 70's) showed up. So, first about 15-20 100 lbs bags of grain are piled in the back, then around 8 goats are loaded, then about a half a dozen chickens are tied to the rack of the truck, then about 25 people piled in. This is very typical bush taxi... fortunately I got a spot sitting on the rack of the truck above the cab, so it was a nice ride.
But wait, theres more... we also happend to get the bush taxi that somehow only had one good wheel.. about 13 K down the road one of the back tires is flat, so, after everyone piles out of the truck, we change the tire, and everyone piles back in.. About 5 K further... we hear a strange flapping noise now coming from one of the front tires: no worries, it's just the tread comming off, so we pull over and one guy pulls out a machetti and cuts the 'extra' tread off, and we happily continue down the road. THEN, as we near Niamey (about 3 K out) the OTHER rear tire becomes flat. I dont think that vehicle would pass inspection.
So, after tire #3, and because we were so close, we flagged down a taxi and payed a double fare to get here. Honestly, though, this is very typical traveling, and almost every bush-taxi experience has a similar story.

So, moving on, we took our Language proficiancy tests day before yesterday, and (yay) I passed! So, no worries, I will be swearing in as an official PC volunteer next week. Its been a stressful few days but only a week left of training then its life in the BUSH!