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16/03/2005

Mom, Dad & Ellie (the cat)

(It is, after all, Ellie's 12th birthday tomorrow - unless she died and you're keeping a secret from me).

Well, I am officially installed as a Peace Corps Volunteer here in my village - they put me here last Thursday afternoon, so it's not even been a week - and I've already had some "interesting", exhausting adventures!

Last Saturday, I got up, did my preparations like eating, resting, reading and the like, then went out of my concession into the village at around 9 AM.  My first stop most mornings is the village chief's (Emirou) concession, partly as a courtesy, partly because whatever's going on in his concession gives me something to do (like sit there, or he'll tell me people are building a house or something).  So I went there Saturday, and he said a huge group of people were going fishing.  I thought, "Great!  Something to do this morning! (meaning I don't have to wander aimlessly), and didn't ask for or receive any specifics, except that "It's far" - I was thinking that meant 3 or 4 km.  So I ran back to my hut, filled up 2 Nalgene bottles, then only brought one as I didn't want to be "the crazy white guy who carries water everywhere."  I ran to the edge of town, and hopped on the donkey cart (which was already packed with 6 or 7 little kids - those poor donkeys suffer something terrible here in Niger).  So we rode out for a long time, and we eventually got to a body of water - which of course turned out to be a little satellite of the village.- and thus just a momentary stop - and then we continued for another long distance (probably 4 km on top of the previous 5 or 6) - and it was at this point that Tonko (one of the men) asked if I had brought food.  Of course I hadn't.  And then they said something to the effect of, "Okay ... well then."  I though, "Meh, we'll be back early afternoon, no sweat.  I'll just have a late lunch."

So, we got there, and they went out fishing by maybe 11:30 AM or so.  I politely declined - there's no way they were going to get me in a seasonal lake that has leftover water from last July in it - I just said, "I can't fish," and in any case, I didn't have right equipment.  The right equipment being:  two 3-foot diameter half circles, with a net covering 75% of half circle and the rest as handle, and attached, a 4 - 6 foot deep net.  The frame is hand-made, and the nets looked machine made.  And the method of fishing is obviously very different (no motor boats, lures, etc - though the fact that I know of the existence of these things led to my fantasizing about being home, getting in a boat, throwing out a few lines, and drinking some cold beers (emphasis very much on "cold").  What they do is, get a group of 15-20 men together (the gender division culturally is very stark), go out in the water, and form a large circle.  They keep their nets at their sides in the water, then walk to the center meeting point, until the fish have no place to go but into one of the nets (this method obviously works only if the depth is such that people can stand in it).  After doing it once, they move to another part of the lake until they do a circuit.

Meanwhile, back on shore ... I'm sitting there, mostly trying to conserve energy and not moving at all, as I have 1 liter of water and no food to last me until ... whenever.  They came in at around 1:00 PM, collected their fish, and basically sat around and drank "deona" which is the sour millet drink the guys are bongo for in the village (I prefer the extra-sugary tea m'self, but I suppose millet has nutritive value) - and to make it last longer, they'd simply add some yummy lake water.  I was happily not offered any, despite the fact that my stomach was angry and I was getting weaker by the minute.  Around 2:30 PM, I closed my eyes, only to awaken and realize the men had gone out again!  There I am, hoping against hope that we'll be leaving ASAP, and now they're going through the whole process one more time.  Finally, mercifully, they came back to shore around 4:30 PM - and I'm ready to literally pass out - my legs feel like they're cramping, and I've been sitting next to about 2 oz. of water for 2 hours.  They put me on the cow cart (okay, I put on a brave face and was quiet the whole afternoon, and thus, got on the cart of my own volition) - but no, we couldn't go back directly - that would be too easy!  We stopped at this house out in the middle of nowhere, and waited twenty minutes to pick up 200 kg of millet.  Then, instead of going straight back, we swung by the village satellite, and then , finally, the home stretch, where I hoped every stand of trees off in the distance indicated the village was near - but it took 6 or 7 such groupings of trees till finally we returned to the village at 6:40 PM - 9+ hours after we left, and I had had one liter of water and about 25 roasted (but thankfully not salted) peanuts the whole day.  At least I learned valuable lessons - get specifics, always carry something you can use to purify water, friends stay true to the end (oh, I guess maybe not that last one) - as well as a new Zarma word - "tabi" - to suffer (Mom, don't worry, those were all my own poor choices - no need to call in the Marines to rescue me;  I've been invited to go fishing again this Saturday, but I might politely decline ).

Okay, and now to the real point of this letter - I got your letter #6 from you guys when I showed up at the hostel, er, "transit house", in Gotheye Monday morning.  It had a bunch of questions, but I accidentally left it in my mailbox.  Anyways, they seemed on the order of:  describe life in my village down to every nitty gritty detail - I'll do my best .

The village has 2,000 people (allegedly - it seems like less, but that could be because I rarely see lots of the kids - always in school - and some of the men could be down on "exode" in the coast countries like Ghana and Nigeria, working in the "cold season" when there's not much to do here in Niger).  I live in the southwest corner of town.

Here is what is provided to me:

• by the village - a house, a bathing area and toilet area (all cement floored), walls to provide privacy, and a shade hangar (under which I'm writing this by headlamp) Link to sketch of quarters

• by the Peace Corps - a stove, a water filter, a medical kit, bleach for water, a bike and helmet, assistance in making sure the village provides what it should, lots of hugs

• by the previous volunteer, Keri (she left it) - lots of stuff, a cot, a table, a propane tank, several plastic mats, a "coffee" table, a trunk to store things, various kitchen utensils, a water-holding jug ("gula"), other knick-knacks

Meaning I need to provide:  all the food I prepare for myself (which, so far, has been the only thing I've eaten - no one's made me food, much to my and my taste buds' disappointment), a working lantern, a chair, a stool, a mortar and all the things I brought with me here (including the sweet 1992 Dream Team shirt I bought at market on Monday).

As far as a host family goes, Peace Corps doesn't set you up with anything like that.  If you want something like that, it's informal and something you'll have to look for yourself - I haven't gotten that far yet.  I don't have any set routine at this stage, but that will develop over time.

20/03/2005

The last few days have been interesting, as well.  On the 17th (St Patrick's Day, which I didn't realize it was until early afternoon - no, I didn't see any of the parades on TV), I decided to head to Crystal's village so we could have some "new anassara bonding time" (we had decided to do this on Tuesday) to break up the week in the village.  Unfortunately, I decided to leave around 3:00 PM, which is almost right smack dab in the high heat of the day (I've been making lots of tactical errors recently - I'll have to work on that).  After the grueling 3 hour ride, needless to say, I was pretty exhausted.  Y'know the phrase "Don't Mess with Texas"?  There should be a "Don't Mess With the Sahel" (the Sahel is the dry geographic region just south of the Sahara).

Okay, other things to send me!  Crystal has a Texas flag handkerchief - it'd be fun to show her up with the Minnesota equivalent (alternatively, if my "Don't Mess With Texas" shirt is still there, you can use that for padding in some package).  Like I said in the last phone call, juice mixes would be great, as well as things I could mix into pasta (e.g. Mac & Cheese) or rice (even ramen sauce packets would be good for those days I just want to throw some quick rice together).  But there's nothing I absolutely NEED that I can't get my hands on in this country (really, I'm sometimes amazed at what I CAN get).

All right, family dearest, I will talk to you sometime soon.  Remember, I should be in Niamey around the 25th of April - so we can talk around then "In Sha Allah" (God willing).

I miss you and think of you every day.  And I love you!

Michael

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