Coup d’Etat - February 18, 2010: I was in my village and it was a day like any other. I had taken a quiet morning to myself complete with a cup of hot cocoa, a sleeping kitty in my lap, and a good book. At 10am I left for the school to do a couple hours of work and then went to visit friends for lunch. Later in the day, I was home working on my fan (I wanted it to stop make so much racket when it oscillated) with my baba and one of his friends when I received a text from one of my Peace Corps friends. She gave me a brief update on what she was up to in her village ad then finished the text with, "People are shooting at the President, WTF?!" I had no clue what to make of that so I turned to my baba and said in Zarma, "Well either people are shooting at your president or my president." He and his friend shrugged it off and just casually remarked, "Well, I guess there's a coup d'etat." I couldn't believe how nonchalant they were being, but I followed their lead and just continued going about my business. So, I can now add a coup d'etat to my ever-growing resume here in Niger.

For more information on the events of February 18, 2010 (because I can't seem to find the motivation to finish this section), you can check out the following webpage: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2010_Nigerien_coup_d'%C3%A9tat#Initial_violence.

Final Book Project Update: In late-January, the English textbooks were delivered to the school in my village and everyone involved in the project was incredibly proud and excited to see that all of their effort had paid off. The staff at the school held a meeting to decide and agree upon how to ensure that the books are used appropriately and taken care of. After the agreement was signed by school officials, the books were immediately put to good use and have already started to make a difference in the English classes.

In order to show their appreciation, my community organized and held a huge ceremony to honor me for my involvement in the project. All of the top officials from my village and my commune (county) as a whole were in attendance. They presented me with a "Certificate of Satisfaction" that was signed and given to me by the Prefet (head government official in my area). The event was really amazing and showed me just how much my community values me and the work I'm doing.

Once again, thank you to everyone who supported and contributed to this project!

English Club Update: My English Club is going strong and we have accomplished some great work in the past two months. After sending off the first set of letters from my students to California, we waited patiently for the responses from the American students and got started on our second letters and the photography portion of the Correspondence Program.

In late February, I received the responses from the students in California and at the next meeting of the club, I handed out the letters. The students were thrilled and I could see a wave of excitement coursing through the students. I think it was at this time that the students finally realized that the activity they were involved in was truly reciprocal and that if they put forth the effort to write letters, they would receive responses. The students continued to work diligently on their second letters and I will be sending them off in the coming days.

During the last two months, we started the photography portion of the program. My mama found, purchased, and mailed five digital cameras for $10 each at Walmart. The cameras arrived in Niger and I quickly devised a system for the distribution of the cameras so that all 21 members could take photos of their lives.

The cameras were $10 each, so you certainly get what you paid for. They don’t take great quality photos and they’re fragile. They don’t have an LCD screen and the viewfinder is tiny making it difficult to see exactly what will appear if you press the shutter button. They have no flash and can’t take pictures when the light is not bright. But, despite all of the challenges, the students managed to make it work and took some incredible shots. Even though the photos are often pixilated and fuzzy, it is impossible not to sense the beauty and emotion in the photo. I have been unbelievably impressed and pleased with the work that my students have done with this portion of the project (and their work in general in all facets of the program).

One of my students, a young man in the equivalent of 11th grade, whom I have known for some time because we often play volleyball together, was very excited about the photography assignment from day one. He was eager to get his hands on a camera and was done shooting within a day. When he came to me, camera in hand, ready for me to upload his shots, I could see just how excited he was to see how his photos turned out. I quickly loaded his photos onto my computer and we sat together reviewing each one. He had taken 20 in total, with eight of those turning out very well. After looking at each shot and discussing what was in the photo and why he took it, I had a great sense of his eye for socially relevant subject areas and I could see his passion for photography. As the groundskeeper struck the wheel-well hung from a tree in the school yard to announce to the school that the morning break was over, my student walked away grinning from ear-to-ear and proudly exclaimed that he was going to be a photo journalist. In that moment, I felt deep down in my heart that what I am doing here in Niger is actually making a difference in someone’s life, that my being here has touched at least one life, and that what I have exposed these students to may truly have opened new doors to them for their futures.

The Hunt Is On: Let me start by saying that I love my kitty. He’s a sweet little guy and he’s very loving. But, he can’t hunt for beans. This isn’t entirely his fault, there isn’t a whole lot to hunt within my concession and outside the walls of my concession is a gigantic and intimidating world for him. He is also the runt of his litter and I think that his growth has been stunted. I call him “my little nugget” because he’s stuck somewhere between being a kitten and being a full-grown cat and he just looks like a nugget (now having written that, I see that it looks a bit bizarre…oh well).

In order to pick up the slack for my little guy, I bought a slingshot and have started to hunt lizards and birds. At first, my aim was terrible, so terrible that the lizards wouldn’t even run away because they knew I couldn’t hit them. But with time and practice, I’ve got what Nigeriens call a “sweet hand” and I have virtually wiped out the population of lizards around my house, much to Corey’s liking as he gets to eat what I kill.

After mastering the art of lizard hunting, I turned my attention to the birds. I thought that if I could nail a bird, Corey would be in 7th Heaven. Birds, however, are a much greater challenge than the lizards. With birds you get only one shot because if you miss they will fly away. Needless to say, I haven’t gotten a bird yet. But, I did find out before putting too much effort into the bird hunting, that if you put a bird in front of Corey, he just wants to be friends with it. My baba and I gave Corey an injured bird that had flown into one of the radio tower cables seeing it as a perfect opportunity for Corey to make the kill himself since the bird was already injured. Corey proceeded to follow the bird here, there, and everywhere but never went in for the kill. He laid near it, watched it, walked with it, but nothing more. It was RIDICULOUS! So, I told him I’m not going to try and hunt birds if all he wants out of it is a buddy.

Traditional Wrestling: In early February, I had the opportunity to take a day trip into my regional capital to watch some traditional wrestling. Men from villages throughout my region were competing for a spot on the regional team, which would be competing in the national wrestling competition being held in Zinder, an Eastern region of Niger.

Men of all shapes and sizes compete against one another in a style of wrestling that falls somewhere between American collegiate wrestling and Greco-Roman wrestling. Each wrestler dons a traditional outfit consisting of “spankies” (as I like to call them) otherwise known as spandex shorts and a skirt made of tassles. Before entering the ring, each wrestler is given a blue or red belt similar to those worn in Karate. After putting on their belt, which signifies the color of the team they are representing, each wrestler enters the ring – a large circular enclosure filled with sand. They are then given a once over by the referees so as to assure that no one has anything dangerous or illegal on them. Once both wrestlers are cleared to fight, the match begins.

Many matches begin with a sort of stand-off in which each man attempts to “mystify” their opponent using hand motions and trickery. After feeling each other out, the real battle begins. Some matches may last only seconds while others last 20 minutes and are stopped due to fatigue. To win a traditional wrestling match, a wrestler must be the first to throw his opponent to the ground. There is no counting, no pinning, and no “technical knock-outs.” Once one man has hit the ground, the fight is called, and the winner is the wrestler left standing.

My sub-region had about 20 wrestlers representing my area, but only one of those men, the last one to compete, earned a spot on the team that would later compete in the national competition. Despite the lack of triumphant wrestlers from my area, it was an incredible event to witness.

It’s Just Not the Same: My best friend in my village and the person with whom I have spent every evening while I have been in my village moved away earlier this month. Her husband, who has his degree in animal raising and breeding, was assigned to work for the Ministry of this department which is located in the capital city, Niamey. She is now living in Niamey with the rest of her family and when I am in my village, there is now a vast empty space where she used be.

She was my closest friend, the person I would vent to when I was irritated, the person I would gossip with, joke with, and laugh with. She was my confidant and my guide to life in Niger. Without her, I lack an outlet to express my feelings when I am frustrated, sad, or angry. When I have an achievement or triumph to celebrate, she is the first person I want to go and share it with and her absence has left a deep void.

With her gone, my approach to life in my village has definitely shifted. Before, I was more interested in getting to know my village than in focusing on projects and work. Now, I find myself diving head-first into my work and enveloping myself in it. I use my work as both a driving force and a distraction. Not being able to see my friend whenever I want has made things a bit challenging for me, but I am grateful that I have work that I am passionate about and that keeps me motivated and excited about my Peace Corps service.

My friend’s departure may have come much sooner than I would have liked, but if there is a silver lining hidden somewhere in this situation, it is that this will help make my transition out of my village and out of Niger just a little bit easier to handle.

Trip Out East: (Before I begin...while I was out East, I thought it would be a good idea to get my hair corn-rowed into a mohawk. I call it, "The Row-Hawk." What better place to show it off than in my blog?)In late February, I took a trip out to Maradi, a region in the Eastern part of Niger. I went to visit one of my closest Peace Corps friends, a fellow Californian who is an extraordinary person. I spent about five days with him and had the opportunity to observe and participate in his English club. He works with an amazing group of students and adults who are learning English. They meet four nights a week and with the use of games, exercises, and group activities, he encourages his students to analyze, question, and use their critical thinking skills to discuss topics that are typically ignored in the Nigerien education system. Not only are his students improving their English skills in this club, they are being given the chance to freely discuss issues that are relevant to their lives.

My friend and the members of the club were very welcoming and I had a wonderful time working with them. While observing his club, I was able to gather ideas for activities to do with my English club and with students that I will be helping to prepare for their national exams at the end of this school year. I was also given the chance to give a brief presentation to the members of the club on Muay Thai, a sport that I have a deep passion for and that many Nigeriens can appreciate as they have a long history of traditional wrestling and enjoy watching combat sports. Despite being a little nervous to speak in front of the group, I quickly found my stride and found that everyone was actually engaged in the presentation and listening to what I had to say. They were incredibly attentive and they asked many questions which showed that they had understood what I was saying (it is often hard for Nigeriens to understand English when spoken by Americans because our accent differs greatly from that of African English speakers). It was so wonderful to get to share something that I am passionate about with Nigeriens and to see that they were interested in and appreciated what I had to say.

I was also able to visit a couple other villages in the Maradi region. It was a great opportunity to see how other volunteers live and what they are doing for work. I have always felt that it is important to see more of Niger than just the region in which you live. Because of this belief, I have taken the time to tour other regions of Niger to get a better feel of the country as a whole. After completing my two years of service with the Peace Corps, I will be able to walk away feeling as though I truly saw Niger and that to me is invaluable.

OH WOW!

Garden Update: My garden really began to flourish toward the end of February. Everything had shot up and began to bear fruit. One afternoon I was even able to make a meal solely from things from my garden, with the exception of some bread bought at the local market and some “Laughing Cow” cheese. While some things weren’t particularly successful, for example my zucchini, which would grow to about four inches in length and then die, in general, the garden flourished.

I learned a great deal about gardening from this process and working side-by-side with my baba. I still look forward to bringing these skills back home with me and trying my hand at a small organic garden.

Unfortunately, my terror of a baby donkey has taken it upon herself to eat the majority of my crops. At least she’s not real fond of the onions or the carrots at this point, so I will at least get to keep those around for a little longer.

He's a good helper :)

“Samira’s Izo”: One of my good friends here in Niger gave birth at midnight on March 7, 2010 to a beautiful baby girl. She is the only baby that will be born to one of my close friends during my service and she has therefore become a very important part of my life here. She is absolutely gorgeous, healthy, strong, and very easy going. If she hadn’t been born to such a wonderful family, I would surely take her home with me.

I had told my friend long before she gave birth that if she were to have a girl that she should name her after me (Samira, as that is my Nigerien name). Upon hearing the news that my friend had given birth, I arrived at her house to find out that she had indeed had a baby girl. We joked that she had gotten a “Samira” and I continued to encourage them to give the baby my name.

As is tradition here in Niger, the baby wasn’t given a name until seven days after her birth. On March 13, 2010, the family held a naming ceremony in which the baby was given a blessing and a name. As much as I wanted a little “ma konni” (name twin), it wasn’t meant to be. She was given the name, Aishatou, which is a lovely name and very fitting for such a precious little one. Although the baby wasn’t given my name, Aishatou’s mom decided at the end of the naming ceremony that she would no longer tell people the baby’s real name. From that moment forward, the baby has been known as, “Samira’s Izo” (Samira’s Child). Knowing the way nicknames tend to stick to a person like glue in Niger, Aishatou is likely to be known as “Samira’s Izo” for the rest of her life. To me, that means so much more than simply having her carry my name. She will never remember the months we spent together before the end of my service, but she will always know that I was a constant figure in her first six months of life.My grandparents called me shortly before Aishatou’s birth and were hoping to put together a care package for me. They asked what I would like in the package and I asked them to send some baby clothes so that I would have a nice gift to bring to the naming ceremony. They found a great set of five little multi-colored tank-top onezies. They’re perfect for Aisha and she has a little room to grow into them. The other day, Aishatou was given a bath, got her ears pierced (she only cried for a minute tops...such a trooper), and proceeded to give me a mini fashion show in which she donned each of her new little outfits. She pretty much slept through the whole event, but I was able to get a couple shots of her with her eyes open. Check out this pretty little lady:

Brother, sister, and cousin with the baby.

Big brother!

Recommended Reading: I recently read two really great books and want to recommend to all of you.

Half the Sky by Nicholas D. Kristoff and Sheryl WuDunn – This book was given to me by a fellow Peace Corps volunteer here in Niger. It is an absolute must read for women, but I think everyone should read it because it has an incredibly powerful message about the value of women and how the marginalization of women in developing countries, and in the world as a whole, is impeding mankind's progress. The book also provides great tips for how to get involved in development and the types of projects that have been the most successful for encouraging women. I know people are often looking for a good place to donate money and this book will help to point you in the right direction. I honestly believe in this book's message: the key to the world's development is girls' education!

The Short Bus: A Journey Beyond Normal by Jonathan Mooney – This was a book recommended to me years ago by my best friend Tara B. It is written by a man who was labeled Dyslexic and learning disabled as a child and spent his school years in special education. He later went on to graduate with honors from an Ivy League school. The book is repetitive at times, but it really challenges the reader to question their use of the term and state-of-being, "normal." We often overuse and overemphasize the importance of "being normal," but does anyone really know what "normal" is? I found the book to be eye-opening and it helped to make me more conscious of my own assumptions and to be more open-minded. I truly believe that anyone who picks up this book will find something within it to relate to and to learn from.

Shout Outs: I’m sending this entry’s shout out to my Tante Ankie and my cousin Jonathan. They have both been incredibly supportive of me throughout this experience and they have taken time away from work and school in order to travel with me in Europe. Thank you both for everything. I love you and I can’t wait to see you both…countdown 2 days!!!BONUSBest Buddies: Warning, this next bit may be too cute to handle. If you are frequently overwhelmed by too much cuteness and often find yourself on “cute overload,” please scroll down to the next section.

Ok, now that you’ve all been given a fair warning, I can tell you all about Penny and Corey and their very special bond. Both Penny and Corey became members of my menagerie around the same time. Corey had a month to get used to life in my village before Penny’s arrival, so he stepped into the big brother role. But as Penny has grown and gained confidence and an affinity for trouble-making, she has started to use her size against Corey and now gives him a run for his money, literally.

Since the pair has grown up together, they can often be found hanging out near one another. Penny, in particular, likes to know whatever it is that Corey might be up to. If Corey’s going to the bathroom, you can be sure to find Penny right behind him, curiosity getting the best of her and leaving her with a nose full of unpleasant smells. If Corey’s sitting in the yard, enjoying the breeze as the weather cools in the late afternoon, Penny will be at his side sniffing and nudging him. If Corey seems to be ignoring her and doing his own thing, Penny will march right up to him, stand stalk still and then bounce around all willy-nilly to get Corey running and then she chase after him. And if Corey’s standing watch near the donkeys’ shade hangar, Penny can almost always be found at Corey’s side, the two engrossed in mutual nuzzling.

And now, if words weren’t enough to overload all of your “cute” receptors, I’ve caught it on tape…

I can’t believe that it’s already 2010! On January 10th, I celebrated 18 months in Niger and now, more than ever before, I feel as though my time here is flying by. I can happily say that I get to come home this year! The past couple of months have been incredibly tumultuous and uncertain, but because I am lucky enough to be part of (in my humble opinion) the best program in the Peace Corps, we have all survived and our program may be stronger now than it ever has been.

While times have been trying, there have been many things to celebrate as well, so get ready for one heck of a blog entry…

Kidnappings, Terrorism, and the Survival of Peace Corps’ Most Amazing Program: On November 15, 2009, every volunteer serving in Peace Corps Niger received a text message informing us that there had been an attempted kidnapping of an American Embassy worker in the Tahoua region of Niger. We were instructed to confirm receipt of the message and to consolidate to our regional capitols as quickly as possible.

As though in a daze, I began to pack a bag, and purposefully allowed myself to ignore the fact that I may have been seeing my house, my donkey, and my friends for the last time. I packed an incredibly impractical bag (because I was in such denial) and went straight to my best friend’s house in order to let her know what had happened. All I could really tell any of my villagers at the time was that Peace Corps had told us all to go to our regional capitols and that I hadn’t the slightest idea when or if I would be able to return to my village.

We spent the first three days of consolidation virtually in the dark as embassy staff, Peace Corps Niger, and Peace Corps Washington gathered information and assessed the situation. On November 18th, we were informed that not much in the way of information was known and for that reason, we would be kept consolidated until at least the 25th.

For the majority of my service, there has been the presence of an Al-Qaeda sect known as AQIM (Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb) within Niger. The group has filtered down into Niger from neighboring Mali and Algeria. At the end of 2008/beginning of 2009, two Canadians, 4 Europeans, were kidnapped in the northern portion of the Tillaberi region of Niger. AQIM claimed responsibility for the kidnappings and Peace Corps acted swiftly to ensure the safety of volunteers in that area of Niger. Many volunteers were removed from their villages and others who were allowed to stay in their villages were permitted to do so under very strict travel and communication restrictions. The situation soon calmed and it was clear that Peace Corps Niger had taken all the necessary steps in order to protect its volunteers.

All was relatively calm for the coming months, until a wave of kidnappings and attempted kidnappings began to occur in mid- to late-November. The attempted kidnapping of the American Embassy worker raised red flags for two primary reasons: (1) AQIM typically did not target Americans as one of their goals is to obtain money, and America does not conduct hostage negotiations in this type of situation; and (2) the attempted kidnapping happened in a region of Niger that is separate from the northern Tillaberi region, which had already been tagged as a “danger zone.” It was for these reasons that Peace Corps Niger and the American Embassy in Niger acted so promptly to ensure that all volunteers were accounted for and housed safely. As more information became available and all decision makers involved were able to fully asses the situation, it was decided that in order to maintain a successful and safe Peace Corps program in Niger, the Tahoua region and all villages north of Niger’s capitol, Niamey, would be closed. They also decided to transfer all of the trainees that had yet to be sworn in as volunteers in Niger to Madagascar where they would become part of the Peace Corps Madagascar program. Volunteers from the areas that were closed were given the option to return to the U.S. or to be relocated within Niger. The consolidation of all volunteers was lifted on November 25th and volunteers were allowed to return to their villages only if they were willing to abide by new travel and communication restrictions and requirements. All volunteers were also given the option to take “Interrupted Service,” which would allow them to return to the U.S. and do one of two things: (1) re-apply to Peace Corps and be given a new country and assignment; or (2) choose to end their service with the Peace Corps. All actions taken by Peace Corps Niger and the American Embassy were meant to reduce the number of volunteers in Niger in order to lessen the profile of volunteers and to ensure their safety.

One of the most challenging parts of this consolidation (besides being stuck in the smallest hostel in country along with 15 other volunteers) was the uncertainty. At times I would sit and reflect upon the fact that my service may be over, with no closure, and without having accomplished all that I had hoped to. These thoughts brought me great sadness. Other times I would consider the fact that there was a possibility I would be home in California for the holidays – a thought that was very appealing. It was a constant emotional rollercoaster and not knowing what the future held made the whole situation that much more draining. But, despite the appeal of being home for the holidays, I knew without a doubt that if given the option to return to my village and complete my service, I would do so.

In the months following these events, the face of Peace Corps Niger has been drastically changed. When in November we were approximately 150 trainees and volunteers in Niger, we are now approximately 75 in number. While I am not really affected by the new rules and regulations in place, Peace Corps Niger is not the program that I joined 18 months ago. We no longer have the freedom to move about as we wish and it often feels as though we are simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. This is not the fault of Peace Corps Niger, it is an unfortunate side-effect of the acts of terrorist groups filtering into Niger from neighboring countries. But despite all of the hardship, we are still an incredibly strong program full of devoted and motivated volunteers and staff. We, volunteers and Peace Corps staff alike, are persevering and continue to achieve great things within Niger. After all is said and done, there are a few things I want you to fully understand: (1) I feel absolutely and completely safe here in Niger, especially when in my village (this is probably the safest I will ever be in my lifetime); (2) the actions that resulted in the events of the last couple of months were not caused by the Nigerien people and should not under any circumstance reflect the people of Niger; (3) the safety of volunteers is of the utmost importance to the Peace Corps and we will always be taken care of.

Book Project Update: As of early December 2009, my book project was fully funded by all of the generous donors in the U.S. I was informed in late December that the check had arrived in Niger and that I could come to pick it up as soon as I was ready. Due to some horribly persistent illnesses, I was forced to wait until now to get the check from the Peace Corps offices.

Knowing that the check was here in Niger, I knew that I had only one more hurdle to jump before the books could be purchased: getting my community’s monetary contribution. I asked my community to contribute 180,000 FCFA (roughly $360.00) in order to purchase the English textbooks. Please keep in mind that this is no easy feat and to the average citizen of Niger, this is a great sum of money. Although the task of acquiring this money was a challenge, I am extremely proud to announce that my community was able to raise ever last bit of that 180,000 FCFA and they did so in record time. This is an amazing accomplishment and I am so very pleased that my community was able to join together to achieve their goal.

Now that all the money is in place, I am happy to announce that all 420 textbooks and teacher’s guides have been purchased! My CES (the middle/high school in my village) will be able to use these textbooks for the remainder of this school year and for many years to come. Not only has the success of this project benefited my village, it has set an excellent example for similar projects in the future. When I initially submitted the proposal for this project, the review board was reluctant to approve it simply because a similar project attempted the year before was virtually a failure and they were afraid my project would meet the same fate. Thank goodness they decided to give this sort of project another chance and approved my proposal.

Thank you to everyone at home who has supported this project whether monetarily or through your encouragement and positive thinking. Without you, I would never have seen this project come to fruition. And, of course, CONGRATULATIONS to the members of my community here in Niger!

Cold Season Gardening: With the help of my baba (father), I have created and planted a cold season garden in my front yard. I have eight plots, each about two yards wide by three yards long. I also have four small circular plots and one small square plot. My baba and I planted tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, garlic, carrots, lettuce, zucchini, cucumbers, American sweet corn, and American snow peas. So far, everything is flourishing, but nothing has borne fruit as of yet. It is still very early in the gardening season, so it may be another month or two before I can report on the actual success of my gardening.

Even though it’s still in its early stages and most of my “gardening work” consists merely of watering twice a day and transplanting when necessary, I am truly enjoying this process and I look forward to being able to reap the benefits of all of my work. I can only assume, but fresh, homegrown vegetables from the garden you worked with your own two hands must taste so much better than anything you can find in the supermarket.

Two of my lettuce and tomato plots.

A close-up.

This is the plot we use for transplanting. I have tomatoes, onions, garlic, and bell peppers planted here.

American snow peas. I hope they work! I know I’ve said this before after cultivating my rainy season crops, but I really hope that I am able to continue to do some smaller scale gardening when I return to the U.S. Living in Niger and eating according to what is in season and what can be cultivated in this harsh climate, I have done a lot of thinking about the eating habits I want to maintain once my service is over. I look forward to using farmer’s markets for my fresh produce, to eating according to what’s in season and not according to what the U.S. is importing from developing nations, and to supporting local farms for dairy.

I plan to continue being a vegetarian once I return home and even have hopes of someday becoming a vegan. Being a vegan can be challenging and requires a person to really consider their diet in order to make sure they are getting all the necessary nutrients. I also believe it is necessary that a person who wishes to be a vegan make the time to prepare their own meals. This doesn’t have to happen every day, but it should happen regularly so as not to get in the habit of eating pre-packaged, processed foods all of the time. With these things in mind, I want to ease into being a vegan and to make sure that the lifestyle I lead is conducive to this kind of diet.

Stay tuned for more news as to how my garden does in the coming months.

My English Club ROCKS!: In December, I finally got my English Club up and running. As usual, there were many obstacles to getting this club underway, namely my health, but we finally started holding our weekly sessions and I can’t begin to tell you just how amazing this experience has been. After only two meetings of the club, I could tell I had an incredible group of students and I walked away feeling as though I will truly have accomplished something of value during my service.

What started out as a list of about ten participants has since expanded and the club now involves 21 extremely intelligent, motivated, and inspiring students from grades 10 – 12. Truthfully, I had only wanted 15 students to participate, as that’s how many students are in the French class in the U.S. that we are corresponding with. But, each meeting brought one or two more students that wanted to participate and being the sucker that I am, I simply couldn’t say no. Needless to say, I now have 21 students and I couldn’t be more pleased with the group.

One of the members of my club and me. I'm actually wearing that exact outfit right now...I need new clothes :) After about five weeks of hard work, the students finished their first letters to their counterparts in the U.S. and I will be sending them off in the coming days. I cannot wait to see what kinds of conversations will be stimulated through these letters and what kind of cultural exchange and new knowledge results from those conversations. I hope that even though half of the school year has now escaped us that this program is fulfilling to all of the students involved, both Nigerien and American.

Corona Pest Control – At Your Service: After all of the turmoil in the month of November, I decided I needed a little pick-me-up and found that pick-me-up in the form of one fluffy little kitten. The cat that lives at the hostel in my regional capitol is what some may call a “baby-making machine” and gave birth to two male kittens in September. I fell in love with the runt of the litter, a little grey fellow that was the spitting image of his mom. I wasn’t sure if it would be wise to bring yet another animal home, but ultimately it was clear he was meant to come to my village.

My team has a tradition that all kittens born to our hostel cat, Rita (aka Margarita), must be named after an alcoholic beverage. So, our team has had a Sam and an Adams (as in Sam Adams beer), a Scotch, a Gimlet, and a Tinto (Nigerien wine), to name a few. Knowing that there were rules in the naming of my cat, I decided to name him Corona after my favorite beer, the one I dream about…a golden Corona sitting on a table, ice cold and dew soaked, with a perfect slice of green lime propped in the mouth of the bottle…oh, sorry, I got caught up in the moment. Back to the cat. So, his name is Corona or Corey for short.

He's all grown up these days.

"Feed me...now-ish!"

Old crooked foot. Something happened while I was out of town and his left front paw is now permanently crooked. He's ok with it though...says it gives him major street cred.

He was out visiting his donkies. He loves them, even if Mabel bites him and stomps her feet when he comes around.

Getting ready for our evening chores: I water the garden, he eats the bugs. We're quite the team. He’s been a great addition to the farm and as the time has passed he has gotten more and more brave and has really started to earn his keep around the place. He’s an outdoor cat, who’s allowed in the house from time to time to snuggle with me and hang out. He sleeps in a little blue bucket at night on a pair of raggedy boxers with an old t-shirt draped over the bucket in order to hold in the heat. He’s still a pretty little guy, but he’s starting to hunt and I think he’s truly found his calling: pest control.

One night, I came home from my best friend’s house, stuck my key in the lock, and glanced down at the ground. There was a hoard of little black ants piled on top of something, but I couldn’t decipher what it was that I was looking at. Corey came over to greet me and promptly noticed what it was I was checking out. As he sniffed and pawed at the mystery object, the ants scattered, and to my surprise, there sat a single, solitary hind leg. It was a leg that had formerly belonged to the rat that I now noticed resided in the gut of my cat. Corey looked like a snake does after swallowing a mouse whole, with a giant lump sitting in his belly. I’m not sure he even chewed his meal. He promptly scarfed the leg down after realizing that I had taken notice of his accomplishment. He was so happy that night and oh so proud of himself.

Corey likes to accompany me to the latrine at night, and while this may seem gross or inappropriate, he simply escorts me and then proceeds to play around in the leaves and fallen branches behind the latrine. At first his accompanying me was bothersome because he would be rustling in the leaves and being the bug-sensitive, jumpy person that I am, I would always get nervous and wonder whether Corey was the cause of this or that noise or whether there were killer attack cockroaches on they’re way to get me. But, one night, as I approached the latrine, I noticed one such attack cockroach perched atop my latrine cover. I always hate when those cockroaches just sit there goading me because I always end up looking a fool as I jump about trying to stomp the little critter to death. But, on this particular night, my escort was with me and I simply scooped him up, put him down right next to the cockroach and as soon as it spooked and began to run, Corey pounced and had a nice little late night snack. With Corey’s timely and successful capture of the cockroach, I was able to go about my business in peace.

Corey’s other specialty is grasshopper and cricket control. Grasshoppers love my garden and are responsible for the destruction of many a plant. But with Corey around to prowl the yard, the pesky grasshoppers and annoying crickets are kept in check. Each morning and evening when I water the garden, Corey comes out into the yard with me and it seems as though he’s munching on something new each time I glance in his direction.

Corey’s not a spoiled cat, at least not by me, but I cannot say the same for my baba. He loves Corey, which is unusual for Nigeriens, and he always talks to him when he sees him and if I leave my village for a few days, he comes over and brings Corey over to his house. My baba shoots and kills lizards with a slingshot, no easy task, and then tosses them over the wall into my yard for Corey to eat. There are days when Corey gets two to three lizards and he doesn’t even have to lift a paw. At least I know that even if I’m not around, he’ll be looked after.

Penny’s Here!!!: Ladies and gentlemen, I am very proud to announce the birth of Miss Penny on the evening of January 2nd, 2010.

I left the house as usual at around 6:30pm in order to head over to my best friend’s house for dinner. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and I honestly can’t even remember whether I said goodbye to Mabel that evening. Not more than an hour later, my baba showed up at my friend’s house asking for me. I had no idea what to expect, although I’ll admit I expected to hear my house had been broken into or something equally as horrible and absurd. To my surprise and delight, my baba announced with a big grin that Mabel had given birth.

My baba had been at the house putting hay atop Mabel’s shade hangar when he noticed a sort of black splotch on the ground. He shined his flashlight on the splotch and was startled to find a not-so-tiny baby donkey lying on the ground. Mabel had given birth quickly, I’m assuming without complication, and totally on her own. By the time I arrived at the house, baby Penny was up and walking, still somewhat covered in gunk, and quite disoriented. She kept wanting to walk in the opposite direction of Mabel and was already ridiculously stubborn after only two hours of life. I finally herded her back in the direction of her mom and then kept a respectful distance so that Mabel could properly bond with the little one.

The next day, I began to feel Mabel out and to see just how much she was willing to tolerate when it came to people, me in particular, touching the baby. Before long, Mabel and I came to a silent understanding that I had no intention of hurting the baby and she came to trust me with Penny in no time. As for Penny, she was skeptical of me at first, but she’s a huge sucker and she fell for me within a day. By day two, Penny was coming to me when called, would nuzzle me and rub against my legs, and would do figure eights between my legs. Since day one, she has been a very healthy little girl and Mabel has been an excellent mother, allowing Penny to nurse consistently and encouraging her to be adventurous. Like most babies, Penny was born with no teeth, but it’s been just over a week and she’s already got some big ol’ toofers coming in. I like grabbing her lips and checking to see the progress of those teeth…soon enough she’ll start using those teeth, so I have to take advantage of this time while I have it.

Penny often gets what my friends Tara and Lucio like to call “the zoomies” and starts charging around the yard. She was sprinting by her second day of life. In fact, one night at about two o’clock in the morning, I was startled awake by an unusual clip-clopping noise. In my half-sleeping state, I thought for sure someone had come into my concession and was up to no good. I froze in my bed and listened, trying desperately to figure out what was going on. Thankfully I figured it out quickly and realized that little Penny was sprinting around the house and the sound of her hooves hitting the hard soil was echoing off my cement walls. She hasn’t stopped sprinting since and gets faster by the day.

Because Penny hasn’t known anything different in her short life, she thinks people are fantastic! She just loves people. She doesn’t care if they’re adults or children, Nigerien or American, dressed to impress or in their raggedy work clothes, she’ll greet anyone who comes into my yard and she’ll even rub all over them and get ‘em nice and dirty. Her latest thing is whining. She hasn’t started braying yet, but if she sees me and wants to say hi or is frustrated that I’m not paying enough attention to her, she trots to me whining the whole way. Her little noises are super cute. She’s such a love and she has really been a joy to have.

Soon enough she’s going to hit her pre-pubescent, pre-teen stage and I know she and I will have our disagreements. She’s going to start trying to eat my garden, she’s going to trample my garden (which she’s already started to do) during her momentary spells of “the zoomies,” and she’s just generally going to start testing the limits. But, until that time arrives, I’m going to enjoy her sweetness and running my hands through her fuzzy baby donkey hair.

Jacco and John Henry Are Big Brothers: On November 14, 2009, the day before all volunteers in Niger were consolidated to their respective regional capitols, Jacco and John Henry became big brothers. Their mother gave birth to another set of twins: one boy, Jonas, and one girl, Eva.

Eva and Jonas were born somewhat small, but were healthy and strong. Unfortunately, their mom is an older goat and developed some health issues after giving birth. That being said, Eva and Jonas weren’t able to nurse regularly and therefore are not growing as quickly as they should be. Their mom has since regained her health, but the effects of the illness on her milk production were severe. But, Eva and Jonas are resilient and have figured out how to make do with what they have.

Jonas is white and brown and similar to his mother in markings. Eva, I must assume, looks like her father because she is black with white splotches and not a single one of my other goats is colored in such a way. They are a very mellow pair and they pretty much stay out of trouble. Because they were born right before all of the turmoil of late-November, I haven’t really gotten to know the two of them, but they’re still very special to me.

So, with the birth of Eva, Jonas, and Penny, and the addition of Corey to the menagerie, that brings the animal count to: six goats, two donkeys, and a cat. Not too shabby J

***Unfortunately, hours after writing this entry, I found out that little Jonas had died. He wasn’t getting enough nourishment since his mom had been so sick and wasn’t producing enough milk. Poor little man.***

Shout Outs: This entry’s shout out is going to my Opa and Tante Han. They have been incredibly supportive of m throughout the past 18 months and have told me on many occasions just how proud they are of my accomplishments. They put together a wonderful Christmas care-package for me and battled with phone card companies just so that they could call and hear my voice. Thank you both for everything – I love you very much!

The Bug Hut: More like a bug fortress! While I was home on vacation, I went on a shopping spree at REI and bought what may easily the best purchase ever: a bug hut. It’s essentially a one-person tent made of mosquito netting that is easily assembled and disassembled. I have taken to sleeping in it every night and once I climb inside it, I feel invincible. Well, I guess it only makes me feel invincible toward creepy-crawlies, but those of you who know me well or have followed this blog know that being invincible to creepy-crawlies is HUGE in my world.

Recently, I have been experiencing some newfound paranoia despite feeling like I’m in a little cocoon when sleeping in my bug hut. I equate this paranoia with the malaria prophylaxis I have been taking since arriving in Niger – a drug that has caused hallucinations, nightmares, and insomnia among other things for me.

My village is full of bats, and normally I am fascinated by them. But, for some reason, the bats have been very vocal lately. I am used to them screeching and screaming once in a while, but lately they have been uproarious throughout the night. I don’t know why they make these noises – whether it’s out of anger, for hunting purposes, or to attract a mate. I’ve tried inquiring of my villagers as to why the bats have been so vocal and I typically get one of two responses: (1) “I go ga ma kani! (They’re feeling happy!); or (2) Ay si bay wala. (I don’t know.) Neither of these responses help me any and I am left feeling as though one of these fine nights, the bats are going to come after me and my bug hut (absurd paranoia #1).

My neighbors across the road from me have a couple of good-sized cats that like to come into my yard to hunt. Cats, along with most animals in Niger, are not typically very friendly and are extremely frightened of people. Sometimes I hear the cats fighting at night and it sounds as though it gets pretty nasty. Because another Peace Corps volunteer was attacked by what we can only assume was a rabid cat while sleeping in her mosquito net inside her house, I am now paranoid that the cats are going to rise against me and attack me and my bug hut (absurd paranoia #2). Just the other night, I was laying in my bug hut, chatting with my parents on the phone, explaining to them how I have been rather paranoid recently. I told them about the cats and later the night I was awoken out of a deep sleep by a strange rustling/scratching sound. I wake up to see a cat with its front paws up on my bed, checking me out. It freaked me out and I wasn’t able to fully fall asleep for the rest of the night.

My daytime, not paranoid self realizes that the cat was not being at all aggressive and that he was merely checking things out and exploring and I have to reaffirm these things to myself every night. I told my best friend in my village about being scared of the cats and to ease my mind, she told me that it wasn’t a cat that had attacked the other volunteer, it was a person. She explained to me that there are people who become like animals at night – some become cats, others become dogs or donkeys or any number of other animals. She said a cat would never attack a sleeping person inside their house without provocation. It had to have been a person. She also explained that when Nigeriens are ill, they hope that a cat will come and be by their side because if it does they are sure to get better. But, if no cat arrives at the side of a sick person, they are likely to die from their illness. Oddly, this did ease my mind and I realized that the reason the cat felt comfortable enough to come explore my bug hut was because it knew that I was not an aggressive person and wouldn’t hurt it. That night I was actually able to get a decent night’s sleep.

Tobay Tobay – A Demented Halloween: August 22nd through September 19th marked the month of Ramadan, an Islamic month of fasting. During this time, all healthy adults fast from sunrise to sundown – no water or food from about 5am until 7pm. As you can imagine, fasting of this nature over a full month can really wear a person out and it is a time when most people are tired, lethargic, hungry, thirsty, and not at all surprisingly, grumpy.

Children aren’t required to fast and thus are able to eat and drink as they usually would, but this doesn’t shelter them from experiencing the effects of a month of intense fasting. The kids still have to help out around the house and do as they are told by their parents – parents who are tired, lethargic, hungry, thirsty, and grumpy. Even though the children aren’t going hungry or thirsty, they are still facing the wrath of their fasting parents, which makes the month of Ramadan a pretty dreary time for kids.

However, there is a silver lining for the kids and it comes in the form of “Tobay Tobay.” Tobay Tobay (which translates to rabbit rabbit) is about a week to two week long event in which kids roam around the village after dark in groups of about ten, banging on drums, singing obnoxious songs, dressing as though they’re involved in gorilla warfare, and visiting all the houses in their neighborhood looking for gifts of sugar cubes, money, or candy.

Somehow I missed out on Tobay Tobay last year, but this year I got the full experience. And let me tell you, it is truly something to behold. Children running amuck with their faces painted white, their arms, backs, and chests painted in white polka dots, flip-flops strapped to their heads as ears, and tree branches tied around their waists in a sort of grass skirt. Each child has a drum that they beat on incessantly and the song they sing at the top of their lungs is almost too catchy. Needless to say, I got sucked in a time or two and the kids scored some American candy. But, despite the obnoxious nature of Tobay Tobay, I got some amazing photos and video of the madness and most importantly, I laughed so hard on multiple occasions that my stomach ached the next day.

See for yourself:

The Place I Call Home: The UN recently released its annual Human Development Index in which it ranks 182 countries from the best to worst places to live. Countries are ranked on the following criteria: life expectancy, gross domestic product (GDP), literacy, and school enrollment (among others). Norway came in at number one, while Niger, my current home, came in dead last. While I often struggle with living here and I recognize the challenges that Niger faces, it is still hard to see that this country has such a poor rating. I don't deny that it is probably very accurate, but I fear that being ranked in such a way causes people to view Niger as a "lost cause" and to assume that Nigeriens lack quality of life. Yes, Niger does not have all of the resources and opportunities available to the developed world, but the people here are amazing and they live their lives to the fullest, rarely dwelling on the difficulties they face.If you're interested in reading more about Niger and it's ranking by the UN, check out this website: http://hdrstats.undp.org/en/countries/country_fact_sheets/cty_fs_NER.html. Shout Outs: This month’s shout out is going to all of the people who have donated to my project. My counterparts and I are so grateful for your support and could not do this without your help. Thank you so very much!!!

Seriously, who could possibly resist this face? I may have mentioned this before, but I plan on hiding him in my suitcase and whisking him off to California with me after my service ;)

It's the beginning of November 2009 and the date that marks my being in Niger for 16 months (November 10th) is rapidly approaching. Sometimes I feel as though it was just yesterday that I arrived in Niger, wide-eyed and eager to find out just what it was that I had signed up for. And other times, I look back and I can feel just how far I’ve come and how much I have learned and grown in the past 16 months.

The last few months have been relatively uneventful and truly quite enjoyable for me. School has been on “summer vacation” since the end of June, so I have been using my time in village to connect with my friends and spend quality time with them. I know that with the start of the new school year, my schedule is going to be rather hectic (by Nigerien standards), so I wanted to take advantage of the time off from school activities to just hang out with my friends in my village.

Despite the lull in work activities, I still have some great stories to share! On to the good stuff…

Exceptional Service Award: Each year, Peace Corps volunteers and staff are asked to nominate volunteers that they feel have met the following criteria:

Volunteers are the heart of Peace Corps. Highly successful Volunteers clearly embody the three goals of Peace Corps by:

1. Working conscientiously and productively on sustainable activities and projects with their communities.

2. Integrating completely into their communities and Niger through acquiring solid language and cross cultural skills, including working professionally with Nigerien staff and colleagues.

3. Expressing the cultural, social, and development realities of Niger and Nigeriens to other Americans, including helping trainees and other Volunteers as they learn to work and live in Niger.

The most exceptional and successful Volunteers usually have the following characteristics:

1. Cultural integration in all aspects of their service - behavior, respect for Nigerien culture, sensitivity to Nigerien cultural norms, dress, etc.

2. Work ethic, skills, creativity, and patience to accomplish sustainable work in the field.

3. Professionalism - collaborator, work as a team member, willing to negotiate, provide honest and are open to feedback/dialogue.

4. Maturity and responsibility towards their commitments.

5. Peer support - willing to listen and support trainees and other Volunteers while modeling appropriate cultural integration and work ethics.

6. Flexibility - able to adjust to pace and approach of living and working in Niger.

There are approximately 120 volunteers serving in Niger at any given time and of those 120 volunteers, about 5-10 are given an award for “Exceptional Service.” On September 8th, I was informed that I had been nominated for and received an “Exceptional Service Award.” This means that my fellow volunteers and/or the staff here in Niger believe that I fit the above criteria and that they recognize the good work that I am doing here.

I try not to let recognition from others, whether it be from my family, friends, or within the Peace Corps, be the motivating factor in all that I am doing here. However, I must say that it feels AWESOME to have received this award and to think that my peers and my supervisors believe in and support the projects I am undertaking while in Niger.

Receiving this award not only reflects upon my efforts, but upon the efforts of everyone at home who has supported me through all the ups and downs, successes and failures, good times and bad. Without all of you, I wouldn’t have the strength and will to successfully complete my Peace Corps service and I am so very grateful to each and every one of you. I wish there was some way to repay you all, but for now please know how truly appreciative I am to have such amazing people in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

Book Project Update: As of today, the website says that we have raised $1407.00 towards the purchase of English textbooks for the middle/high school in my village! Looks like we are well on our way to reaching our goal of $3462.00.

For those of you who may not know about this project, here is a brief overview for you and instructions for donating if you are interesting in helping out:

One of the most difficult challenges facing the Nigerien education system is a lack of basic educational materials, such as textbooks and general school supplies. Because textbooks are not available to teachers or students, teachers must use valuable class time to copy lessons onto the blackboard for the students, resulting in long periods of downtime between lessons. This leads to a lack of discipline in the classroom and students frequently lose focus. The goal of this project is to provide the Complexe d’Enseingement Secondaire (CES) in my village, a combined middle and high school, with English textbooks and to establish sustainable methods for the care and usage of these books, thereby improving English language education for both current and future students.

This project was born out of an expressed need by the English department at the CES in my village. Upon beginning my work with the CES, it was brought to my attention repeatedly that one of the greatest problems facing the school, and the English department in particular, is a lack of proper education materials.

By providing the CES with English textbooks, teachers will be better equipped to teach the material and scores on the BEPC, a test that contains extensive English portions and must be passed in order to continue to the next phase of education, will improve. With very few Nigerien students passing this critical exam, access to textbooks will help to increase that number.

Should this project not be implemented, the CES will continue to struggle to properly educate its students, especially in the English language. Scores on examinations and the BEPC will continue to plummet resulting in fewer students continuing their education. Class time will continue to be wasted because in order to teach a class as a whole, a teacher must take the time to copy lessons onto the blackboard. Without these textbooks, students will continue to face the difficult task of trying to learn a second language without the proper materials.

Here are the steps to take to donate to my project:

1. Go to the Peace Corps website: http://www.peacecorps.gov/

2. Click on the Donate Now link on the left

3. Type my last name or the project number, 683 172, into the search box

4. Scroll down a little and you will see my project, which they have titled: English Textbooks

5. Enter in the amount you would like to donate, click donate, and then follow the directions for entering your information.

It’s as easy as that!

Rainy Season and Harvest Updates: After reporting such doom and gloom in my last blog entry, I thought I would give a brief update as to how the rainy season progressed. During the month of August, the rains picked up a bit and in my area the rains were enough to make a decent crop yield. The same cannot be said for most of Niger and unfortunately crop yields in general have been very low this year. While things in my area were not too bad, Niger as a whole faces a difficult year food shortages and hunger.

After the bulk of rainy season passed, we harvested the grains, peanuts, and veggies that were planted in my yard. I made peanut butter from the peanuts I grew and Mabel will enjoy nightly treats of the grains grown in my yard.

This is what my yard looked like before harvest…full of delicious foods.

These are all of the crops harvested from my yard: millet (long stalks), sorghum (redish grains), and peanuts (some are still on the plants and others have been picked). Everything is laid out to dry in the sun.

The bucket on the left is full of all the millet grown in my yard. The bowl in the middle is the sorghum. And the Nescafé can and jar are full of the peanut butter I made with my peanuts.

This is gourgi, a vegetable similar to a cucumber. I had a total of six plants and I could pick this many at least every other day. They were extremely fruitful.

Farming in my yard during the rainy season and reaping the benefits of my efforts in growing these crops has really encouraged me to continue to grow my own food whenever possible. I plan to garden during the cold season and will plant lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, garlic, and green peppers. I’m also having some seeds sent from the states and will try to see if I can get sweet corn and snow peas to grow here. I look forward to working in my garden each day and getting to eat all of the veggies that I cultivate. I hope that despite all of the distractions and the hustle and bustle of American life, I will continue to have the desire and effort it takes to garden once I am home again.The Fall of an Empire: Ok, perhaps that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but something did fall. I had gone into the capitol to celebrate the swearing-in of our newest group of volunteers in Niger. I was out of my village for about a week in order to take part in all the festivities and to finish up some work on project proposals.

One afternoon while in the capitol, I received a text from my best friend in my village. I had trouble understanding what it was that she was trying to say, but the gist of it was that something had fallen. What that something was, I had no idea, but I wasn’t interested in worrying about it at the time.

I went into my regional capitol before returning to my village and realized that I was going to be out of my village for a little longer than anticipated due to work needs. I called my Baba so that I could let him know that I was going to be gone a little longer and to make sure that everything was all set for him to continue taking care of Mabel. After talking logistics, my Baba tried to explain to me exactly what had fallen at my house, but again, I struggled to understand what he was trying to tell me and I told him to just leave it until I returned home. I later had the Peace Corps Program Assistant in my region call my Baba in order to find out exactly what had happened.

As it turned out, a massive storm had hit while I was away and an entire chunk of my concession wall had fallen. The back of my concession was now wide open and accessible to the public and any wandering sheep, cows, or goats looking for a little something to eat. Once he was given the go-ahead, my Baba sprang into action, swiped the grass mats used to provide Mabel with shade, and created a temporary wall for me. The temporary wall not only provided me with privacy and security, but it served to protect my precious crops from the furry, four-legged, scavengers roaming the roads.

Now that the rains have ceased and the weather is beginning to dry out, I can begin to start the process of having my walls repaired. It will be a bit of a process as a government official from my village is responsible for the upkeep of my property and will have to be willing to pay for the work to be done. Then, I will have to find the best group of men to do the work for the least amount of money. Once the payment and labor are in place, we will have to find the materials to fix the walls – mud bricks and mud. Although having my walls repaired may take a while, when all is said and done, I will have a beautiful concession with plenty of privacy and security.

Meet Oscar…the Worm: It was a day like any other – I woke up to the sound of Mabel screaming at the top of her lungs, did my morning chores, and sat down to have a cup of hot cocoa and read. Suddenly, I notice an intense itching sensation on the side of my right foot, near my pinky toe. I begin to scratch – the kind of scratching that brings instant relief and feels so good – and notice that the bump that has swelled on my foot is a little unusual. It’s not the typical lump created by mosquito bites and the lump itself is sort of, well, lumpy. It’s a lumpy lump, if you will. Anyways, after some good scratching, the itching ceased, and I continued about my business.

A week or so went by and nothing much had changed. My lumpy lump was still there and continued to itch. Finally, I started to wonder if perhaps this lumpy lump wasn’t exactly normal. It was a resilient little lump and it didn’t seem to fade away like a standard insect bite. Despite my concern, I decided it must not be all that serious as it hadn’t grown and it wasn’t causing me any pain.

One night while at my “family’s” house for dinner, my lumpy lump started to itch like crazy and my itching antics attracted the attention of everyone in the family. I showed them my foot and my friend essentially cried out, “Holy cow, that’s a worm!” What followed was a great deal of horror stories about others who had had the worm and the process Nigerien doctors went through to kill them – namely, trying to track down the worm’s head and sticking a pin in it. As I’m sure most of you can imagine, I was starting to freak out a bit. I thought that the thing that had taken up residence in my foot was an actual worm and that I was going to have to have it removed. As it turned out, it wasn’t a real worm at all, it was simply a parasite called Cutaneous Larva Migrans.

Once I had a better idea of what was in my foot, I contacted the doctor and he said I would need to take some pills and use a cream in order to resolve the issue. He arranged to have one of my Peace Corps neighbors deliver the medications to me, but when they arrived, all I received was the cream. There had been a misunderstanding and I was going to have a wait another few days until the pills could be brought to me. Needless to say, I had to live with this little creature for a while and thus decided that it deserved a name. I named him Oscar and whenever I was asked about how my foot or the worm were doing, I would simply reply that Oscar was doing well.

So, I began using the cream immediately – I was to put it on the affected area twice a day. After about three applications of the cream, I began to notice that my lumpy lump had shifted its location. The little rascal was running from the cream! I started to put the cream on Oscar’s new location and within a few applications, he had shifted his location again.

By this point, I had had enough. I was fit to be tied and about ready to strangle Oscar when the pills finally arrived. I started taking the pills and try as he might to run from the cream, Oscar’s strength was zapped by the pills and he was no longer able to fight his impending death. After five days of pills and cream, Oscar finally succumbed to his ailments and could no longer call my foot his home. I think it’s pretty clear after 16 months in Niger that if there is something to be caught or contracted here, I am going to catch or contract it. So, stay tuned for the next adventure in the world of my health.

As a brief aside, I thought I would mention that the pills I was taking to rid my body of a parasite had the words “Jesus Lives” stamped very neatly into each pill. I’m not at all sure exactly where these pills were purchased, but that’s not exactly the thing one wishes to see written on their anti-parasitic medications. I was sufficiently creeped out!

Hitchhiking: One of my favorite ways to travel around my region and into the capitol is by hitchhiking. And, believe it or not, it is easily one of the safest ways to travel in Niger – the massive Greyhound-like buses tip over, bush taxis are so packed full of people, animals, and baggage that if an accident were to happen, no one would live to tell about it, and riding motorcycles is strictly prohibited (not too mention they’re the most dangerous form of Nigerien transportation). So, if I have somewhere to go, I grab my bag and head out to the road in front of my Baba’s house (the radio station next door to my house) and wait for private cars to pass in the direction I’d like to go.

This method of catching a ride isn’t available to most people. I have two things going for me that make it much easier to get picked up: I’m an American and I’m a woman. It’s probably the one and only time that being a woman in Niger is an advantage, so I have no guilt in playing the female card for this purpose.

Throughout the past year, I have caught many free rides and have met many different people. It’s actually a really cool way to meet new people – people I would never have met otherwise – and it sparks some very interesting conversations. I met a couple of young men around my age who are teachers and had an amazing conversation with them about the differences between Niger and America during the 30 minutes it took to get to my regional capitol. I met a couple men who were traveling into the capitol of Niger from Diffa, the easternmost region in Niger, and talked to them about my work, about the Peace Corps, and about learning two languages while here. I met a friend of my Baba’s who is a driver for a local NGO who brought me from my house straight to the door of the Peace Corps hostel in the capitol (this never happens). One of the last rides I caught from my regional capitol to my village was a brand new Jeep that still had new car smell! The guys must have thought I was sick, or crazy, because I just kept inhaling over and over trying to soak up that new car smell. New car smell beats the heck out of dirty, run-down, full of sweaty, stinky people and animals smell!

While most of my rides are safe, uneventful, and pleasant, there are some times when I “get what I paid for.” Since I’m not paying for the ride monetarily, there are times when I pay for it in uncomfortable or annoying conversation. I’d say at least 50% of the time, I end up having to have the “are you married?” and “you should marry a Nigerien!” conversations. But, while these conversations annoy me to no end, as I have gotten more adept at speaking Zarma, I have now learned to enjoy making up stories and lying when asked about my marital status. Some days, I have a fiancé in the U.S. Other days, I have a boyfriend in another region of Niger. And, if I happen to be really quick on my feet, I have a husband that lives with me in my village. Depending on which story I give, I am typically still asked for my phone number, so my latest strategy is to put my phone on silent, lie through my teeth, and tell them I simply don’t have a cell phone because they’re too expensive. The longer I’m here, the craftier I get, and I’ve finally learned how to play the game. (This is where I wish I could insert an evil laugh!)

L’Année Scolaire: It is finally that time of year again when students return to school and resume their studies. The schools year was expected to start on October 5th, but as per usual in Niger, things didn’t happen exactly as planned. The Nigerien government decided to completely alter the scheduling for secondary schools.

In previous years, secondary schools had classes Monday through Friday from the hours of 8:30am to 12:30pm and then again from 3:30pm to 6:30pm. This schedule made it easier for young girls to attend school and accomplish all of their daily chores at home. It was also beneficial to teachers whose families did not live in the village they taught in. It allowed them to return home on the weekends to spend time with their families.

This year, classes are to be held Monday through Saturday from 7:30am until 1:30pm. The government’s thinking in making this change was that it would allow students more time to study their lessons at home as well as completing their daily chores. While this change is better for the students, it puts greater strain on the teachers. Teachers who teach outside of their home village can only return home for a portion of each weekend. Because the classroom hours have been severely cut from previous years, teachers are struggling to figure out how to fit all the necessary curriculum into fewer class hours.

As with most things in Niger, this change was left until the last minute and schools found themselves at the start of the school year without a clear idea of how this change was supposed to be implemented. That being said, the start of the school year was postponed a week and even though classes are now in session, it will take more time for students, teachers, and staff alike to adjust to the change and get into the swing of things.

Despite all of the chaos at the start of the year, the CES (middle/high school) in my village has an excellent staff and will once again be an amazing group of people for me to work with. Three of my counterparts from last year are teaching English at the CES again and we have a couple new English teachers as well. We have already started collaborating for this school year and I am excited for all the great work we are going to do together in the coming months.

I feel very lucky to have the opportunity to work with such amazing people – people who are motivated and care about the work they are doing. The same cannot be said for other schools in other villages. Every time I go to the CES and chat with my counterparts I walk away thinking, “How did I get so lucky?” I don’t know if I have ever mentioned this before, but I definitely believe I was given the best post in Niger!

Bella Has a Baby Brother!: I would like to introduce all of you to the newest member of my animal kingdom here in Niger. This is Lincoln:

Lincoln was born at approximately 1:30pm on Wednesday, October 21, 2009. He joins his sister, Bella, along with Jacco and John Henry in the menagerie I have created in my village. Lincoln is a strapping young lad with striking coloring and was up on his feet within no time.

Today is August 8, 2009, and in just two days time, I will have been in Niger for 13 months. This marks the half way point in my service and officially starts the countdown to my return to the U.S. This milestone, like everything else I have experienced or encountered during my time in Niger, has sparked a great deal of reflection and thought.

I look at the time I have left in my service and instantly feel relieved that I am on the home stretch, but also stressed as it seems there isn’t nearly enough time to accomplish all the things I hope to in the remaining year of my service. Needless to say, this next year is certain to fly by and I hope to use this time in such a way as to finish my service in Niger with no regrets.

It has been about three months since I last updated my blog and a lot has happened during that time: I took my first vacation in nearly a year and visited my family and friends in the U.S. for a month, Niger entered into a time of civil and political unrest, the much anticipated rainy season got off to an excruciatingly slow start, I struggled to readjust back to life in Niger following an amazing vacation, a new group of volunteers arrived in Niger to begin their training, and hunger season has created an atmosphere of tension and uncertainty.

Times are hard, not just in Niger with the lack of rains and a countrywide food crisis, but in the world as a whole. As a Peace Corps volunteer, the challenges facing Niger have become my challenges and have created brand new obstacles for me to face in the attempt to accomplish my goals for my service in Niger.

Troubled Times Lie Ahead:

Hunger Season – Hunger season has been upon Niger for about five months. It is a time when Nigeriens face famine due to grain stores having been used throughout the previous year and the obligation to wait for rainy season to bring the water necessary to grow the crops that the majority of Nigeriens live on throughout the year. It is a time of desperation and daily hardship. It is a time in which many Peace Corps volunteers lose their beloved pets due to villagers struggling to feed their hungry children and seeing a source of nourishment in the volunteers’ cats and dogs. It is a time of illness as the rains bring disease-harboring insects and the lack of proper nutrition doesn’t allow for the production of much needed antibodies to fight infection.

Rainy Season – Unfortunately, the effects of hunger season are exacerbated by the fact that this year’s rainy season has been poor to say the least. Typically, the rains begin in mid-June, but are very sporadic. By July, the rains are starting to come more regularly, but still only fall about once or twice a week. In August, the rainy season has usually hit its full swing and the rains are falling at least every third day if not more. This lasts through the beginning of September and then the rains begin to taper off as October opens.

So far this year, the rains have fallen only a handful of times throughout the month of July and when the rains have come, they have been brief – barely enough to soak the ground. We are now over a week into August, a time when rains should be falling every-other-day and we have only seen the rains fall twice in my area. The rains have been so poor that farmers have had to plant and re-plant their seeds upwards of three to four times already this season.

World Food Crisis – A poor rainy season has dire consequences for a country like Niger, a country with little money and the majority of its population surviving on subsistence farming. Without a good crop yield, many Nigeriens will face famine throughout the coming year, especially those living in the bush. Incidence of malnutrition and illness will skyrocket and before long fear and desperation will drive people to extraordinary measures to feed their families.

Niger is not the only country facing such challenging circumstances. The world as a whole is facing a global food crisis and many third-world countries are facing famine. Droughts, desertification, global warming, and a slue of other environmental elements are effecting the world’s food production.

As populations grow exponentially in third-world countries and their national debts continue to spiral further and further out of control, these countries are forced to look toward their agricultural goods as a resource for raising foreign exchange capital. The global economy is such that the wealthiest nations are the ones able to afford the purchase of agricultural goods from third-world countries. With wealth comes power, thus the buyers from the wealthy nations have the power to set the prices of the goods they wish to import. The price of most exports from third-world countries fluctuate frequently and often leave the sellers with little to no profit. The money that is received for their exports is often regulated by corrupt governments and does not get distributed to the people. Consequently, the people of third-world countries are left with no grains to feed themselves and they never reap the benefits of the price their crops earn on the global market.

Despite the global market for export crops instability, many third-world governments continue to put a great deal of money toward export crop systems. More and more land is given to large-scale crop production, therefore taking away valuable croplands from the average citizen. Without access to land to grow their crops, people are unable to grow enough food to last throughout the year. This vicious cycle leads to drastic decreases in domestic food production and an increase in local market prices for grains.

Malnutrition – Niger is a sub-Saharan country with harsh climates and many environmental issues facing its landscape. There are few crops that thrive in such conditions and Nigeriens are at the mercy of the seasons in order to grow their major crops and their off-season vegetables. It is these factors that contribute to a diet that makes it difficult to reach the proper level of nutrition and caloric intake in a given day.

The human immune system is reliant on a constant and steady source of nutrients in order to serve its purpose and to reach 100% of its functioning. In a country that already struggles to find proper nutrition in its food sources, Niger faces an even greater lack of nutrients with the food crisis. As malnutrition increases, the immune systems of many Nigeriens will begin to break down and will no longer perform the vital task of fighting illness and infection. Many Nigeriens will succumb to illness and because their immune systems are not getting the proper nutrients to produce disease-fighting cells, they may not be able to fight off even the most common and basic of ailments.

Illnesses and Maladies – The rainy season, whether the rains are falling frequently or not, is a bug’s favorite time of year. While I would normally take this opportunity to report on my many encounters with six and eight-legged, winged creatures, the appearance of an abundance of insects brings with it a far more troublesome effect than simply annoying me. The rains and the humid atmosphere create a perfect breeding ground for disease-harboring insects.

Rainy season can be just as aptly called Malaria season. Plentiful bodies of standing water allow for the rapid procreation of Malaria-carrying mosquitoes and because most Nigeriens lack the proper protection against mosquitoes – Malaria prophylaxis, mosquito repellent, and mosquito nets – they are that much more susceptible to contracting Malaria. Along with Malaria, this is a season of Typhoid fever, Pink-Eye, and many other ailments.

To date, I have already made two trips to the hospital with my Nigerien family as both my “little brother” and my “father” were afflicted with Typhoid fever and Malaria, respectively. Both illnesses required a three-day stint in the hospital, constant IV fluids, and serum injections twice a day. On top of this being very frightening for the family as existing medical treatments in Niger, while better than nothing, remain very primitive and one never knows if the illness will claim the life of their loved one, hospital stays and the purchase of medications are very expensive. Luckily for my Nigerien family, they are financially stable enough to afford the medical care they require, but if the family continues to get sick, as they undoubtedly will during the next two to three months, the funds will run dry and they will be forced to seek other less effective means of treatment. For most Nigeriens, especially those living in the bush, hospital stays and the purchase of medications are not financially feasible and people are forced to rely solely on traditional medicines to cure their ailment.

For my part, I have tried my best to make sure that my Nigerien family has adequate mosquito nets to sleep in and when they do become ill, I try to contribute to the purchase of important medications and make sure that they receive the care that they need. I only wish I could do the same for all of the families in my village, but unfortunately such a thing is completely unrealistic.

Staying Positive – Despite the myriad struggles facing Niger, Nigeriens remain a very resilient and positive people. They continue to find reasons to smile each and every day and they will never cease to answer greetings with a positive reply. No matter what their current circumstances may be, no matter what hardships they may be facing, the Nigerien people continue to live their lives to the fullest and never seem to wallow in their own self-pity. They are grateful for each day they are given and for everything that they do have.

I have found this to be one of the most inspiring elements of life in Niger. It reminds me that although times may be tough and I may be experiencing daily stresses, poor health, or any of a number of struggles, I am lucky to be where I am and to be having such a unique experience. It’s a great reminder to be thankful for what you have and to live each day as if it may be your last. So, I encourage everyone to live a little more like the Nigeriens – stay positive, be thankful, and remember that tomorrow is a new day.

Calling All Storks – Mabel’s Expecting!: Ok, so maybe I can’t say this with 100% certainty, but with each passing week, it becomes more and more apparent that Mabel’s belly is growing. Let’s put aside the fact that she’s one seriously well-fed donkey for the time being.

A couple of weeks ago, my Baba mentioned to me that he was able to see Mabel’s teats. I believe the conversation went a little something this: “Hey Samira, ay go ga di ni farkay fuffey! Ay man di a fuffey kala sohon.” Translation: “Hey Andrea, I can see your donkey’s boobs! I didn’t see her boobs until just now.” So, it appears as though Mabel’s teats are starting to swell a bit, which leads us to believe she’s brewing a not-so-tiny bundle of donkey joy in that ever-growing belly of hers.

The same day, my Baba and I were taking care of Mabel when my neighbor walked over to the wall to chat with us. She remarked that she thought Mabel was growing and that she had gotten bigger around the middle. So, in Niger, a country in which all it takes to prove your identity is two people who will vouch for you, it would seem that Mabel is indeed pregnant as two people have commented on her current girth.

If Mabel is pregnant, her gestation should be approximately one year and if she’s pregnant enough to have slightly swollen teats, this means she was probably pregnant at the time I purchased her. And, if that’s the case, there may be an addition to the funny little farm I’ve created here in Niger around the end of 2009. So, everyone send Mabel and me your best baby donkey ju-ju so that I can spend the last few months of my service playing with a fluffy little donkey baby!

Interconnectivity: As most of you know, I have never been a religious person, nor have I ever been all that spiritual. However, I recently had one of those moments that revealed just how interconnected humans and nature are and how some greater power, whether it be a god, multiple gods, or some force of nature, maintains a certain balance in this world.

It started when my best friend in my village's husband got ill. He answered the first evening call to prayer in seemingly good health, but returned home afterward and within minutes was violently ill. We quickly arranged to take him to the village hospital and once he was settled in and given his first rounds of fluids and medications, I returned home for the night.

The next morning, upon arriving at the hospital to see my "father," I was told that early that same morning one of the family's prized ram was dead of unknown causes. My best friend then recounted the story of the previous year when she had gotten seriously ill and had to be hospitalized in the capitol. At the time she owned a cow, which are worth a great deal in Niger, and during her illness the cow inexplicably died.

After hearing this story and looking at the current state of my "father's" health, I began to reflect on the significance of the deaths of the family's animals. To some it may seem far fetched, but I truly believe that the animals were taken in order to leave room on this planet for my friend and her husband. Whatever the case may be, I am grateful that my friends are now in good health and that I have another day with them.

Shout Outs: I just realized that I haven’t been giving any shout-outs lately and that is simply unacceptable. So, I'm going to have to give this shout-out to one of my favorite ladies, Shalon. Not only has Shalon been one of the people who regularly calls me and gives me the support I need to continue living and working in Niger, but she has also coordinated with all of our friends at the gym to put together care packages for me. She has been an amazing friend and support system for me and for that I am truly grateful.

Shalon, you ROCK!

A Battle of Epic Proportions – One Woman and an Army of Ants: It was the end of another blistering hot day and I was finally getting home after an evening with my Nigerien family. I had no more than stuck the key into the lock on my front door when the phone rang. I got the door opened and answered my cell phone. It was my parents making their weekly phone call. I quickly dumped my things and was getting ready to go back outside to chat with my parents (it echoes really badly inside my square, cement house) when I spotted a big ol’ cockroach on my screen door. I quickly told my mama that I needed to kill the creature quickly and asked her to bear with me for a second. This nasty, prehistoric looking insect was not going down easy and I proceeded to jump about the house chasing the cockroach with a flip-flop as it ran all willy-nilly around my feet. Needless to say, there was some screaming, a lot of missed attempts at smashing the cockroach, and a lot of ridiculous giggling as I hopped about the house. But, after a few misses, I was finally able to squish the roach and properly dispose of it in the yard. With the cockroach problem solved for the night, I went out on my raised patio and chatted with my parents. I put the bug incident out of my mind, but I should have known that there was more to come – the cockroach at my door was surely a sign…

I finished chatting with my parents and by that time it was about 10pm and I was ready to bathe and go to sleep. I went through my usual nightly routine of getting everything ready so that all I had to do after bathing was turn off the lights and climb into my mosquito net. I went into my indoor bucket bath area and inspected and detected, looking for any unsavory creatures that needed squishing. I didn’t see any bugs, but I did notice that there was an odd pile of dirt built up just inside the drain hole from my indoor bucket bath area to the outside of my house. I looked at the pile of dirt for a moment and tried to decide why it was there. Perhaps Mabel was sniffing around the hole earlier that day and she snorted causing dirt to fly in the hole. Or perhaps the frogs that tend to take up residence in my bath area during the heat of the day were back and they brought the dirt in with them. Or maybe it was some sort of insect. I decided to go outside and see what I could see from that angle.

I walk outside and around the side of my house and see a sea of giant ants. These aren’t your average, everyday breed of ants that are almost microscopic in size. These are ants on steroids! They’re about an inch in length and there are at least three different types of ants within the colony: there are slightly smaller ones that are very light in color and tend to blend in with the sand; there are medium sized ones with huge black heads and clearly visible pincher-like things, red middles, and black rear ends; and then there are the ones that are at least an inch long with wings.

So, now I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either I brave a bath and disturb the ants with the run-off from my bucket bath and risk being covered with ants while stark naked. Or, I take some Rambo, the insecticide used in Niger, and Rambo the heck out of the little beasts, risking them overtaking my bath area in their desperation to escape the Rambo and the confusion of their death throws. I opt for the latter, grab my Rambo, and powder every ant hole I see. When finished, I go back inside to see what’s going to happen and sure enough, hundreds upon hundreds of ants start pouring into my bathroom. And of course, they’re running around all willy-nilly because they’re in the process of dying.

Those of you who know me, know that this just isn’t my idea of a good time. I don’t like bugs and no matter how small they might be or how well I have adjusted to life amongst the insects in Niger, they still give me the heeby-jeebies. So, I want you to picture this, it’s 10pm, most Nigeriens are sleeping, and there I am in my bath area with a flip-flop in one hand and a broom in the other. One woman against literally hundreds of enormous ants. I’m standing in the middle of my bathroom floor, smacking ants as thy get close, brushing them down off of the walls, and making sure that none of them get past me and make their way into the main room of my house. This epic battle lasted for an hour and forty minutes. For an hour and forty minutes I stood in that bathroom smacking ants and cleaning up the carcasses until finally they stopped pouring into my bathroom.

Needless to say, I was victorious and finally was able to take a nice, cool bucket bath in peace with only one stray ant trying to come in my bath area and disturb me. I finished bathing and got ready to hit the sack as it was half past midnight and I knew Mabel was not going to care how late I was up and would start braying like clockwork at 6:30am.

Before heading outside to climb in bed, I gave my house a quick once over with my flashlight to make sure the ants hadn’t infiltrated the rest of the house. I shone the light into the room that I keep my clothes and bathroom supplies in and to my utter disappointment, I see that the battle is not over. This time it’s not ants that are challenging me to a dual, it’s a centipede. Centipedes are nasty looking creatures, they’re fast, and their sting is immensely painful. So, of course, I’m freaked out and angry at the world for putting so many unpleasant beings in my home.

I grab my trusty bug-killing flip-flop and prepare for the second battle of the night. This little creepy-crawler puts up quite a fight and zips left and right along the base of the wall. I see an opening for a good whack and I nail him, but it was as if he didn’t feel a thing. He continues to dart left and right. Suddenly he sticks is head in a groove and luckily for me, he’s just like an ostrich. He thinks he’s safe, but to his surprise, I give him another solid whack. This time I know he felt it, but he’s still zipping around as if unfazed. By this point, I am pissed. I’ve given the little intruder two good whacks, but to no avail. I’m ready to end this fight once and for all, so I gather my courage and I give him one heck of a smack. This time I know he’s not going to bounce right back, but the job still isn’t complete. I quickly give him one more really strong smack and finally he’s still. I watch him for a moment, brush him across the floor, but it is finally done. I conquered the beast! But seriously, four whacks?!?! Are you kidding me? Who on Earth decided that I was fit to volunteer in Niger, West Africa where the bugs have mutated into intelligent, fighting machines?

I may have won this battle, but the war is surely not over. The ants will rise again, but I can guarantee you (and them) that they will fall again!

Hot Season Observations:

1. Ducks don’t like the heat – my friends, the two women I eat lunch with each day, have two ducks in their concession, a male and a female. With the temperature topping out at nearly 120°F or more daily and the sun beating down on Niger through a cloudless sky, the desert sand is so hot that it will literally burn your skin. One afternoon on a scorching hot day, I went over to my friends’ house for lunch and sat down to chat with the ladies. During a lull in the conversation, I began to watch the ducks as they walked from their tiny pool of water across the hot sand to the muddy patch of earth just outside my friends’ bathing area. The ducks journey consisted of about 20 yards across the sweltering sand and as I watched them embark on their daring excursion, braving the hot sand just to nibble on some fresh green algae near the bathing area, I was overcome by laughter. A duck’s webbed feet are not immune to extreme temperatures and these two ducks certainly felt the blistering heat beneath their feet. These are large ducks, bigger than any you will find on the lagoons in Alameda, and thus they have very large feet. What this amounts to is a great deal of surface area that must touch the red-hot sand. In order to safely reach their destination, the ducks began to do a “hot sand dance” and hopped, to the best of a duck’s ability, toward the smorgasbord of algae awaiting them. They looked like a couple of scuba divers, with flippers on their feet, trying to run across the beach. Their little duck butts wagged to and fro, ever more pronounced than usual. (If you’ve ever seen the stage performance of Mamma Mia, I’m sure you can picture the scuba divers running around with flippers on their feet.) Perhaps I am simply starved for entertainment, but I was nearly rolling with laughter at the sight of these silly ducks with their waggling behinds. My laughter in turn caused my friends to laugh as they often think I am slightly bizarre simply because our cultures are so different.

Maybe you had to be there in order to fully understand the comedy of the moment, but when you’re sitting in 120°F heat, sweating so profusely that you’re salting your food as the sweat drips from every pore in your body, you take whatever laughter you can get.

2. The maximum temperature I have seen recorded in my area this hot season is 130.5°F. That’s ridiculously hot by the way!

3. Sweating is a constant during hot season. I wake up in the morning and the simple act of rolling over to tell Mabel, “Just five more minutes,” (she starts hollering at about 6:30am) creates beads of sweat on my forehead. During the day, I keep a bandana with me at all times so that I can wipe the sweat away from time to time because I’m dripping on or in everything I touch. I come home at the end of a very hot and sweaty day to bathe and hit the sack, and I’m still sweating! I bathe with some cool water from my guula (a ceramic water container) and as soon as I stop dumping cool water over my body, I start to sweat. I get ready for bed, all the while dripping with sweat, and climb into my mosquito net. After about a half an hour of lying completely still and staring up at the stars or reading a book, the beads of sweat finally disappear. And then, a blissful night of limited sweating. However, some nights I sweat throughout the night as well. The moral here is this: during hot season, I sweat virtually 24 hours a day.

“Festival d’Anglais” – Lessons Learned: On May 1, 2009, I finished my first major project in Niger. I ran a month-long “English Festival” with the students at the college/lycée (C.E.S.) in my village, which is the equivalent of an American middle/high school. I did after-school tutoring with four different grade levels in English for one week each. The goal was to help prepare the students in Troisieme (freshmen equivalent) and Terminale (senior equivalent) for their examinations at the end of the year and to help supplement what the other two grade levels had been learning in class.

The project was by no means 100% successful and did not run as smoothly as I would have hoped, but it was an excellent learning experience and helped me to see how best to run a similar project the following school year. Despite many set-backs, there were equally as many things that made every bit of my preparation for and commitment to the project worth every minute:

During the first week of the project, I was able to get to know an amazing group of 11 Troisieme students. They were incredibly motivated students, worked extremely hard, and I could tell they yearned for the extra help with their English. They enjoyed the tutoring sessions so much that they asked the following week if they could have more classes with me. There excitement about the project was infectious and with this particular group, I know that I actually reached them and that the work I had done with them was worthwhile.

Through preparing for and running the “English Festival,” I was able to develop excellent relationships with my counterparts and other staff at the C.E.S. in Birni. My main counterparts are four English teachers, two men and two women. They are the most amazing teachers and have so much passion for what they do. Teachers, let alone good teachers, are hard to come by in Niger and I truly believe that my village is one of the luckiest villages as it has some incredible teachers for all subjects. My counterparts speak very good English and they are so grateful for any help I give them or their students. I feel that I have 100% of their support in anything that I do and they are willing to guide me every step of the way. Words don’t seem to do them justice, they are just the most amazing people and every single day that I leave the C.E.S., I reflect on just how lucky I am to be able to work with them.

There are many things about this project that I wish had gone better, but the lessons I learned from this first attempt are invaluable and will make me all the more successful in the year to come. I look forward to the next school year and all the doors that have opened to me as a result of this project.

Internalizing the Thinking of Others: I have now been living in Niger for 10 months and I can comfortably say that I have integrated into Nigerien culture – I speak both a local language and the national language, I follow Nigerien customs and cultural norms, and I have become a valued member of my community. With this level of integration comes a great deal less daily stress, I no longer fight intense bouts of homesickness, and I now feel as though I can turn to villagers when I need emotional support or guidance. It is because of this level of integration into Nigerien culture that I have become truly happy and content in Niger.

However, with this level of integration comes new struggles and a new consciousness. Niger is a Muslim country and there are very strict gender roles. Men are the bread-winners, they are the heads of the household, and they are treated with the utmost of respect. Women are stay-at-home mothers, they are the ones who run the household, and they are not meant to be seen or heard.

While many Nigerien women have begun to challenge this oppressive system, many people still cling to these rigid gender roles. No matter how successful a woman may be in her education or career, she is still treated as a second-class citizen and men remain the most highly praised and respected.

After finally finding my place within Nigerien culture and within my village, I find that I am now significantly more conscious of this gender divide. I have become aware of the fact that I have begun to internalize this thinking that women are less than men. In social situations with men, I often find myself sort of cowering away from them and I allow them to treat me as though I am not the educated, successful, intelligent, and capable woman that I am. I allow men to completely disregard me while standing in a queue and move ahead of me. I allow men to climb onto a bus or bush taxi ahead of me even though I have been standing there, waiting patiently for my turn to board. I allow men to ask personal questions and probe into my personal life without reprimanding them. Worst of all, I allow men to treat me as though I am not as worthy of their respect as any other man.

This is something I would never allow to happen in the U.S. I am certainly not the most independent or strong woman, but I am confident in who I am and I believe that I deserve to be treated with respect. I try not to allow anyone to walk all over me and I will not be made to do anything I don’t want to do. I am proud of my accomplishments and I am proud of the woman I have become. That being said, I would never allow anyone, especially a man, to treat me with disrespect and to make what I have accomplished in my lifetime insignificant.

As I have become conscious of this internalization of a sexist system in Niger, I find that I view myself much differently than I used to when living in the U.S. My self-esteem and my pride in my accomplishments is no longer what it used to be. Sometimes I question whether I ever was the person I used to see myself as. I have started to simply accept the way I am treated by Nigerien men, thinking that I must deserve it. I know this thinking is not only unhealthy, but unrealistic as well, but when you live within a system that pounds this kind of thinking into you every moment of every day, you begin to believe it.

Part of the reason that I can’t combat this thinking as successfully in Niger as I would be able to in the U.S. is the language barrier. I simply do not have the vocabulary to shame a man who treats me poorly or acts inappropriately towards me. In the states, I would call a man out for mistreating me and I would make him feel like the scum of the Earth. I would stand up for myself and use my words to make sure there is no question about how I feel about the situation. Unfortunately, I just don’t have the language skills and the ability to think as quickly on my feet in a second or third language to make my feelings known.

Being conscious of this internalization is both detrimental and beneficial to me. Unfortunately, I am conscious of the way I am feeling and it can sometimes get me down. But, knowing what is causing me to feel the way I do gives me the opportunity to consciously try and change my thinking and to try to keep this system from stripping me of my pride and self-confidence.

Only in Niger…:

Only in Niger would you be in the middle of teaching an English lesson when the class is disrupted by a young goat walking into the classroom and making a great deal of racket.

Only in Niger would a child be squatting on the side of the road relieving himself in one form or the other and trying desperately to get you to say hello in response to his incessant “fofos.” (Maybe I’m just crazy, but I’m not all that interested in greeting a child who is squatting on the side of the road.)

Only in Niger would you be willing to plunge your hand into a communal bowl of food with four children who don’t use soap when washing their hands.

Only in Niger would you continue eating from a bowl that a baby chick just walk through and pecked around a bit.

Only in Niger would you sleep outside, under the stars, just 15ft. away from a pooping, braying, donkey.

Only in Niger would you be trying to give an English lesson with nearly 20 guinea fowl outside the window squawking obnoxiously.

Only in Niger would you be cooking at home with friends, using a can of Off! bug spray to roll out your home-made tortillas.

Only in Niger would your feet get so dirty that you can no longer distinguish between tan lines and dirt lines.

Only in Niger would you come home to hundreds of giant ants in your bathroom and then proceed to spend an hour and forty minutes trying to kill them so that you can take a bucket bath.

Only in Niger would you arrive at your house at about 9:30pm to find a scorpion waiting to greet you as you open the door.

Only in Niger are you able to buy a complete meal made from naturally grown and harvested goods for $1.50.

Only in Niger would you witness a chugging contest for a two-year-old little boy. No, he wasn’t chugging alcohol, this is a Muslim country and alcohol is frowned upon for people of all ages. But, he was chugging a cup of coco (a millet drink) to a chorus of children and adults alike chanting, “Wey, wey! Wey, wey!” And upon successfully drinking all of the cup’s contents, he threw his arms in the air and yelled, “Gagner!” (which means to win in French). It was absolutely precious!

Just Because It’s Funny…: I just don’t think it’s fair that none of you get to see just how ridiculous my hair is on a daily basis. So, once again, here’s a little taste of how things are going on the hair-growth front:

My first set of cornrows in Niger!

Lookin' vraiment Nigerien!

And then, I took the braids out...

I was going for a sort of Don King/Side-Show Bob look.

How'd I do?

The morning after braid removal.

I look like a troll doll...

...and to think this took no preparation at all.

The portrait of beauty!

Despite how crazy my hair may be, it is finally growing out and I can honestly say that I am finally starting to feel feminine again. I know that my femininity and my identity as a woman should not be wrapped up in my hair, but for me it is – in my world, long hair is the epitome of femininity. And slowly but surely, my hair, and thus my femininity, is returning!

Self-degradation – For Your Viewing Pleasure: Since one of my last blog entries was quite heavy and very unpleasant for many of you, I’ve decided to start this entry off on a lighter note.

Let me begin by saying that I wish I had never cut all of my hair off! Not only do I feel like my femininity was lost the day I cut off two ten-inch ponytails and more from my head, but it has been a source of great embarrassment for me in Niger because Nigerien women do not have short hair.

I cut my hair for two primary reasons: 1) I have always wanted to see what short hair would be like and I thought the timing was right since I would go through any awkward stages away from the people I generally want to look good for, and 2) I knew it was going to be hot in Niger and running water is scarce, so having all the hair I had before cutting it would have made things tough.

Needless to say, I am in the process of growing out my hair and I must admit that I am so glad I’m going through these ridiculous stages here in Niger rather than at home. So, for your viewing pleasure, comic relief, and my personal humiliation, here are the documented phases of hair growth in the seven months since I went all Britney Spears on myself one Sunday morning and completely buzzed my head:

Here's me on my birthday, two days after buzzing my head, looking like the poster child for fari masa. The quote in the picture reads as follows, "Life is like a fari masa. Sometimes it's delicious, and sometimes it makes you feel like shit."

Having fun with friends about three months after buzzing my head.

Rocking a faux-hawk about five months post buzzing.

First thing in the morning. Why I let anyone document this, I have no idea.

A nice profile shot.

At the end of a day of sweating and getting dirty. This is about seven months after shaving my head.

Again I ask, why do I document these things?!?!

Fresh outta bed...bright eyed and bushy tailed! Or should I say bushy headed?

After going to the pump to try and tame this rat's nest.

Alas, there is no taming that rat's nest. I feel pretty, oh so pretty! 8 Months and All I Have To Show For It Is…: Having been in Niger for eight months now, I have created quite the medical resume for myself. In the past eight months, I have contracted or experienced the following ailments:

1. Amoebas and Bacteria (twice)

2. A cold (too many times to count)

3. Ringworm (twice)

4. Unidentified rash on my neck (twice)

5. A period that lasted 30 days (yeah, you read that right 30 days)

6. Strep Throat

7. Food poisoning (really fun when your latrine is 30 yards from your front door)

8. Bacteria (twice)

9. Giardia and Amoebas

10. Yeast Infection

11. Heat Rash

***Numbers 2 – 6 were all contracted at the same time. October was a fun month!***

Ok, so maybe I have a lot more to show for my time here than this list of illnesses, but when I think about all of the ailments I have dealt with and come out stronger on the other side, I just want to pat myself on the back. I’m not the only volunteer in Niger who has been put through the ringer when it comes to getting sick, in fact my statistics are pretty much average. There are others who are always sick and I mean always. Yet another reminder that Niger is one of the three hardest posts in the Peace Corps…man, I am AWESOME!

“Sweat Until Your Clothes Come Off” – Hot As Sahel: Today is March 17, 2009 (that's the date I actually wrote this entry) and it is freakin’ HOT! As I write this entry, I am sitting in my house in nothing but a pair of soccer shorts and a sports bra, hoping that there aren’t any Nigeriens peaking into my house as this is highly culturally inappropriate. As a matter of fact, if I had it my way, I would be stark naked right now. Let me remind you that I am sitting and typing a blog entry, an activity that requires very little movement or physical exertion, and I am literally dripping sweat. Oh, and to top it all off, my fan petered out on me last night, so I have absolutely no respite from the heat.

THIS HEAT IS KILLING ME!

It’s about 5:20PM and the heat of the day has passed, but the thermometer in my house, which may or may not be all that reliable, reads 37°C or 100°F. I think it’s safe to assume that it was around 105°F at high noon today. Now, I know this doesn’t seem that hot to many of you, but consider two things: 1) I am from the San Francisco Bay Area where temperatures in the summer months tend to stay in the 80s, and 2) This is only the very beginning of hot season in Niger, which means that at the peak of the season, temperatures can reach upwards of 120°F. So, if it’s already this hot, I don’t even want to think about what the rest of this season has in store for me.

I’M MELTING!

I’ve become addicted to countdowns. I’m counting down the days until I can come home for a visit. I’m counting down the days until the World Cup. I’m counting down the days until the end of my service. And now, I am counting down the days until rainy season comes, which is roughly 100 days.

OH WOE IS ME!

Peace Corps Niger CRIBS: It doesn’t make any sense to me, but for some unfathomable reason, MTV wasn’t interested in doing a segment for MTV Cribs on my house here in Niger. I simply don’t understand how a plain, rectangular, cement structure with no indoor plumbing and a latrine in the yard doesn’t entice them.

Since MTV won’t do a segment on my humble abode, I have taken matters into my own hands and will now offer you an insider’s look into a Nigerien mansion.

Behold…

This is the view from just inside my front door.

To the immediate left of my front door. This is the kind of kitchen top chefs dream of!

Still looking to the left of my house toward the back. That's my bed. That's where dreams are made!

Looking to the right of my front door toward the back of my house. That's a guest bed, so go ahead and book your flights because you have a free place to sleep.

This is to the immediate right of my front door. This is the "sitting room." Looks luxurious doesn't it?!?!

A closer look at the "sitting room."

And, last but certainly not least, my bathroom. That's right people, that's all I got. Makes for a great bucket bath though!

And Now, Please Welcome Miss Mabel…: On March 14, 2009, I purchased a strong, healthy, female donkey for 37,000 FCFA (approximately 70 USD). She was brought to my village by a Fulani man from a village 16 kilometers away. She had made the long walk home throughout the night and arrived at my door hungry and thirsty. I immediately gave her a bundle of Subu (dry wild grasses) and a bucket of water.

Look at this beautiful girl!

She is definitely a Nigerien donkey as she is skittish and uneasy around people because her first years on Earth were spent getting hit with sticks and forced to work. She’s a stubborn lady, sort of moody, and all she does is eat, poop, and holler. But, she’s my girl and I love her for it.

We think she might be pregnant!

Mabel's hangar. She was hanging out with one of my favorite Peace Corps friends.

It has been two and a half weeks since I got Mabel and she is making herself right at home. She now comes when I call her, she nuzzles against my leg as I scratch her head and neck, she is getting more and more comfortable with taking food from my hand (she loves treats), and she follows me around the yard whenever I’m out there doing chores. The next step is to get her accustomed to walking around the village. My villagers are all so excited that I got a donkey and can’t wait to see me riding around on her. They laugh so hard just thinking about it, so I can only imagine the hysterics that will follow once Mabel and I hit the town.

Taming the Beast…I Mean, Naming the Beast: In Nigerien culture, when a child is born, the family waits seven days to give the child a name. On the seventh day after the child’s birth, the family has a celebration, a prayer is said for the child by a religious leader called an Alfa or Marabout, and the parents reveal the name of the child to the Alfa. The Alfa then speaks the name alound to all those attending the celebration. This tradition and the celebration that follows is called a Cabey (pronounced Cha – bay).

I gave Mabel her name according to Nigerien tradition and waited until seven days after purchasing her to reveal her name. My villagers were quite impatient and constantly asked me what my donkey’s name is and when I responded by telling them to have patience and wait until the cabey, they would laugh hysterically. Half the fun of having a cabey for Mabel was going around the village telling my friends and counterparts that I had purchased a donkey and was going to have a cabey for her. They thought it was the silliest thing they had ever heard, but were excited about it and pleased that I was embracing their traditions, even if it was for a donkey.

Saturday, March 21, 2009, was the day of Mabel’s cabey. We had a small celebration at my friend’s house with fari masa and sauce, music and dancing, and many of my friends from the village came to celebrate with me. The women worked their fingers to the bone preparing the food for the celebration and three of my friends from the Peace Corps came to my village to meet Mabel and help her celebrate this momentous event.

The guest of honor, being the stubborn lady that she is, was a bit disagreeable as I labored to get her to walk with me to my friend’s house for her party. I let her off her lead in my yard with the intention of putting her on a sort of leash to walk over to my friend’s place and as soon as she was set free, she took off and went straight for her favorite spot to roll around in the dirt. She promptly plopped herself down in the dirt, rolled to and fro, and kicked up all kinds of dust. Once she was satisfied with her rolling, she proceeded to lounge around in the dirt, refusing to get up and get moving. And, I should add that we were already late to the party. Finally, she decided to get up, but then refused to let me put the leash around her neck. I literally chased her in circles around my concession. My friends were close to rolling in the dirt as Mabel had done because they were laughing so hysterically. After about ten minutes of chasing the crazy beast around the yard, she decided she’d like to listen to me and stopped so that I could put the leash around her neck. We then started the very slow process of walking to my friend’s house, but she kept a pretty good pace and didn’t fight me too much. Upon arriving at the party, she was introduced to her siblings from another mother, John Henry, Jacco, and Bella. Those three weren’t too thrilled with their over-sized guest at first, but eventually warmed to her and all were content. My friends offered Mabel some delicious subu and a bucket of water and Mabel was distracted enough to quit protesting.

She's a stubborn little lady. And, it doesn't help that she's not too fond of kids.

One of my friends from Peace Corps brought scraps of fabric for Mabel and I braided a special collar for her so that when she is finally allowed to wonder freely throughout the village, my villagers will know that she is Samira’s (my) donkey and that her name is Mabel. She was given her pretty new collar at her cabey. After eating and drinking until we were close to exploding, we gathered under a shade tree and I quietly revealed Mabel’s name to the Alfa. My friend’s younger brother, one of the kindest most vibrant men I have met in Niger, served as the Alfa for Mabel’s cabey. He said a prayer in Arabic for Mabel and then revealed to my family and friends the name I had chosen for my donkey. After the short ceremony, I was congratulated and everyone seemed happy and content. My Peace Corps friends and I then untied Mabel and headed for home. The walk home was nearly as trying as the walk to my friend’s house as Mabel was a woman on a mission and was practically trotting in order to get herself home. I decided to show my friends the comedy that ensues when I try to ride Mabel and my friend whipped out the camera just in time to catch it all on video. One day, I’ll break that donkey, but for now, I guess she’ll be the one doing all the breaking as she hollers throughout the night, interrupting my R.E.M. cycles. Hanging out at the party...

This is the Alfa as he was saying a prayer for Mabel.

The guest of homor in her fancy new collar.

Family photos...

I know her name is sort of old fashioned, but there’s an inside joke behind it and it makes my Peace Corps friends and me laugh! Plus, listening to Nigeriens say Mabel’s name is seriously hilarious!

It has been nearly nine months since I packed my bags, left the Bay Area, and embarked on the craziest adventure of my life. It has taken a while, but I am finally starting to feel very content here and I feel as though I am really starting to thrive. One of my closest friends from Peace Corps Niger came to visit me in my village and he commented on how much he has seen me grow and change in the last 9 months. He even went as far as to say that I was glowing. It was then that I truly realized how much progress I have made here and that for now, this life suits me. I am excited to have reached this point in my service and I am even more excited that others can see it. I hope to be a positive example for others and perhaps I'll even be able to be an inspiration.

Even though I have reached a very positive point in my service, it can often be hard to find motivation and inspiration. I find myself listening more closely to the lyrics in songs or seeing quotations jump off the page at me as I am reading. Often times, these lyrics or quotes are just what I need to remind me of my purpose in Niger and to reignite the fire in me that made me come to Niger in the first place. I know that sometimes we tend to get lost in the day-to-day routine of the American lifestyle, so I thought I would share some of my inspiration with you in hopes that a flame will be lit anew within you.

This entry is the first of many to come, so be ready for a ton of updates!

Yes, I Do Actually Do Some Work Around Here!: My focus as an education volunteer here in Niger is going to be on teaching/tutoring English. I have chosen this area of focus for a few reasons:

1. After completing my service in Niger, I would like to go back to school to get a Masters in Education and teach high school English and English as a Second Language (ESL). Therefore, my experience in Niger will not only make for an irresistible resume, it will provide me with invaluable field experience, something that can never be learned in a university classroom.

2. English is something that I know and understand very well. I feel confident enough in my skills to help others as they learn the language and the students here can definitely benefit from learning from a native English speaker.

3. Teaching/tutoring English is something that interests me and I feel as though I can put a lot of passion into the design and implementation of English language related projects.

4. And, most importantly, the English teachers at the middle/high school in my village have expressed a desire to work with me.

I am in the process of preparing to do an “English Festival” with four grade levels in my village. This is something that the previous volunteer in my village did and it was a hit among the students. I will put my own spin on the project in hopes of making it my own and in order to keep it fun and interesting for the students who wish to participate. The project will run throughout the month of April and possibly a little into May. I will hold tutoring sessions every evening for one hour for four weeks. Each week I will focus on a different grade level: Troisieme (9th grade), Seconde (10th grade), Premiere (11th grade), and Terminale (12th grade). Troisieme and Terminale students have examinations at the end of the year – Troisieme students must pass an examination in order to move on to Lycee (high school) and Terminale students must pass an exam in order to graduate from Lycee. Both of these examinations have English portions, so I will work with those students on preparing for the test. With Seconde and Premiere students, I will focus on supplementing what they have learned in class and encouraging them to speak the language. Of the students who choose to participate in the festival, I will reward the student from each grade level who receives the highest marks in their English class.

After the English Festival, I will start work on preparing for three other projects. I would like to try and find funding in order to get the English department at my middle/high school books. There were books at one point in time, but they were essentially stolen by a teacher who has been moved to a new school. Therefore, my English teachers and their students have been trying their best to teach/learn without having books. This will be an expensive undertaking and finding someone to fund the project will be challenging, but the bottom line is that my school needs these books.

I will also work on designing a teacher training for English teachers in my sub-region. I will create a training curriculum in which my counterpart and I teach classroom management, curriculum design, positive reinforcement, and gender-sensitive teaching methods. I hope to have this project designed, funded, and implemented before the start of the next school year.

Lastly, I am currently working on designing a correspondence project between English students from my village and French students from my high school French teacher’s classes. This will be a letter writing project in which the students will write to one another once a month or once every two months, whichever time frame proves to be feasible. Each letter will have a topic that corresponds to both what the students are currently learning in class and to a specific cross-cultural goal. In this way, I hope to help the students practice what they have learned in class and to provide them with a greater knowledge of the culture of their counterparts. It is in this way that I also hope to address two of the primary goals of the Peace Corps which both involve cross-cultural education at home and abroad.

I would like to combine the letter writing portion of this project with a mini photo project. I hope to get each Nigerien student involved in the project a disposable camera and invite one of my Peace Corps friends who is a fabulous photographer to come and give a brief lesion in photography – how to use a camera, photo composition, etc. After the students learn how to use a camera, I will have them take their cameras home with them and ask them to document, through photos, a day in their lives. I will have them take photos of their home, family, friends, school, favorite places in the village, etc. After each student has taken their photos, I will have the film developed. The students will then write on the back of each image and describe, in English, what is seen in the picture. Once everyone has finished with their photos, I hope to send them to their counterparts in the U.S. I then hope to have the American students do the same thing, except using French, and have those pictures sent to Niger to be given to their Nigerien counterparts.

Organizing this project is a slow process as I have limited access to internet and phones, so communication takes more time than usual and nothing in Niger seems to happen in a timely fashion, according to American standards of time. But, I have about five months to get ready. This again will require that I procure outside funding and it may be difficult to do so, but this is something I truly believe in and can see a great deal of value in it, so if need be, I will fund it myself to make sure that it happens and these kids get the chance to participate in this project, something they may not otherwise have the chance to do.

High Hopes and Realistic Expectations – The 44th President of the United States of America: I know this entry is a little late as President Obama was sworn into office over two months ago, but with the current state of America’s economy and the difficult times many Americans are facing, I thought it would still be poignant to remind people that while it is necessary to put great faith and pride in our President, it is also necessary that we remember that he is just one man, one man who has inherited a very difficult task and has a mountain of damages caused by bad decision making to reverse. It is important that we hold President Obama to a high standard, but we must keep our expectations realistic and always remember that he is only human. We must trust that he will do his absolute best to turn America around and pull her out of this great hole she is in, but remember that this mess was not created over night and it will not be remedied over night. As Nigeriens would say, “Have patience.”

This was a prayer said for President Obama by The Right Reverend Gene Robinson (made famous as the openly gay Anglican bishop). Unfortunately it was not televised because of an "error in executing the inauguration ceremonies."

“Before this celebration begins, please join me in pausing for a moment to ask God's blessing upon our nation and our next president.

Oh God of our many understandings, we pray that you will bless us with tears, tears for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women in many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die a day from malnutrition, malaria and AIDS.

Bless this nation with anger – anger at discrimination at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants; women, people of color; gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people. Bless us with discomfort at the easy simplistic answers we prefer to hear from our politicians instead of the truth about ourselves and our world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.

Bless us with patience and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be fixed any time soon and the understanding that our next president is a human being, not a messiah. Bless us with humility, open to understanding that our own needs as a nation must always be balanced with those of the world.

Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance, replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences.

Bless us with compassion and generosity, remembering that every religion's God judges us by the ways we care for the most vulnerable. And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of the President of the United States. Give him wisdom beyond his years, inspire him with President Lincoln's reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy's ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for all people.

Give him a quiet heart, for our ship of state needs a steady calm captain. Give him stirring words, we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.

Make him color blind reminding him of his own words that under his leadership there will be neither red nor blue states but a United States. Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.

Give him strength to find family time and privacy and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters' childhoods. And please God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents and we're asking far too much of this one, we implore you oh good and great God to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand that he might do the work that we have called him to do. That he might find joy in this impossible calling and that, in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.

Amen.”

I found this prayer to be absolutely beautiful and a wonderful reminder that it is not just President Obama who has changes to make. We, the American people, have the resources and ability to make a difference in this world, whether it be at home or abroad. With the inauguration of President Obama, the United States has stepped into a new era, we have been granted a fresh start, and we have a responsibility to our nation and the world at large to take advantage of this opportunity and start inciting change.

Motivation and Inspiration: My mama sent me the new John Legend CD in a care package and being starved for new music the way I am, I listened to it right away. The last song on the album is called, If You're Out There, and as I listened to it, I got goose bumps from head to toe. It was one of those songs that really spoke to me and has a lot of bearing on my situation here in Niger. So, I thought I would share the lyrics with you and encourage you to listen to the song and take the time to really listen to its message.

If You're Out There

John Legend

If you hear this message

Wherever you stand

Calling every woman

Calling every man

We’re the generation

We can’t afford to wait

The future started yesterday

And we’re already late

We’ve been looking for a song to sing

Searched for a melody, searched for someone to lead

We’ve been looking for the world to change

If you feel the same then go on and say

If you’re out there

Sing along with me

If you’re out there

I’m dying to believe

That you’re out there

Stand up and say it loud

If you’re out there

Tomorrow’s starting now, now, now

No more broken promises

No more call to war

Unless it’s love and peace

That we’re really fighting for

We can destroy hunger

We can conquer hate

Put down the arms

And raise your voice

We’re joining hands today

Oh I was looking for a song to sing

Searched for a leader

But the leader was me

We were looking for the world to change

We can be heroes

Just go on and say

If you’re out there

Sing along with me

If you’re out there

I’m dying to believe

That you’re out there

Stand up and say it loud

If you’re out there

Tomorrow’s starting now, now, now

If you’re out here

We can shake the world

Believe again

It starts within

We don’t have to wait for destiny

We should be the change that we want to see

If you’re out there, oh oh oh

If you’re out there

And you’re ready now

Sing it loud

Scream it out

If you’re out there

Sing along with me

If you’re out there

I’m dying to believe

That you’re out there

Stand up and say it loud

If you’re out there

Tomorrow’s starting now

If you’re out there

If you’re out there

If you’re out there

If you hear this message

Wherever you stand

Calling every woman

Calling every man

We’re the generation

We can’t afford to wait

The future started yesterday

And we’re already late

WARNING: This is a sensitive topic and the images in this entry are graphic at times. Please be aware as you read ahead and do try to read the entry in its entirety.

Most of you know that when in the U.S., I am a strict vegetarian, very strong in my beliefs and set in my ways. As I have mentioned in a previous entry, I have abandoned my vegetarian ways while living in Niger because I came to recognize that the process of raising, slaughtering, and consuming of meat in Niger is nothing like the meat industry in the U.S. – an industry that disgusts and appalls me.

To give a little background as to why I feel the way I do, I’ll give a very brief history of the practices of the meat industry (focusing on beef cattle) and contrast it with the process typical to Niger. Cattle are what is known as ruminants. They are one of very few animals that are capable of breaking down grasses and turning them into nutrients. They have evolved as grazers and serve a very important role in the sustainability of grasslands. That being said, cattle are not meant to eat anything other than grasses. Their digestive system was built to break down grasses and it serves them well. In the States, beef cattle are kept on crowded, filthy farms and they are fed corn as it has been proved to bring cattle to slaughter weight significantly faster than grazing. Not to mention, corn is so widely produced in the U.S. that it is cheaper to feed the cattle corn than grass. Because cattle are not designed to break down corn, they are prone to illness and are pumped full of antibiotics on a daily basis. In short, the piece of meat that makes it to your dinner table is dirty, as it often finds its way past USDA inspections, and ridden with antibiotics. Not only does the meat industry mistreat the animals and muddle with an evolutionary path, they are extremely wasteful in their practices.

Niger essentially conducts itself in a completely opposite manner. That’s not to say that their methods are perfect; there are still sickly and underfed animals in Niger, but the process here is much more natural and small-scale. Each Nigerien family, finances permitting, often has 2-3 sheep or goats that they raise and breed. Their animals are either taken out to graze in the fields or are fed grasses and grains at the home. They are not pumped full of hormones or antibiotics and while they are kept in confinement, they are given the space to move and are not forced to sleep in multiple layers of their own excrement. The animals are valuable to the families, serving as both food or profit if sold.

Because I carry the beliefs I do, I have always thought it necessary for me to truly experience the process of slaughtering, preparing, and eating an animal. As Niger is a Muslim country, I am not able to actually have a hand in the slaughter of an animal because the religion states that only a Muslim man is to take part in the slaughter of animals. However, given the opportunity, I took part in and documented the slaughter of a friend’s goat for her going-away party as she completed her service in Niger. The experience was difficult and left me trembling and in tears, but I learned a lot both about the process and about myself. The slaughtering of animals is never a pleasant experience, but I truly believe that the process here in Niger is one that is natural and respectable.

In the next portion of this entry, I will share with you both in writing and through images, the process of slaughtering, preparing, and eating a goat in Niger. As I mentioned at the opening of this entry, the images can be somewhat graphic at times. I have tried to use this opportunity not only as a learning experience, but as an opportunity to explore some of my creativity in writing and in photography. It is my hope that this portion not only serves as a cross-cultural learning opportunity for my readers, but as an exhibition of art. As you read ahead, I ask that you keep those things in mind and look at this as a chance to learn more about Niger and Muslim culture.

Meet Po-Po, a three-year-old male goat. He was purchased in early 2008 with the intention of fattening him up to be slaughtered in celebration of the closing of a fellow volunteer's service. Until his death, Po-Po lived a wonderful life. He had friends, was well-fed, and given plenty of space to move about and stretch his limbs. He was never given any medications and he lived out his days in the warmth of the sun.

Islam strictly states that an animal to be slaughtered must be done so in the name of God by a Muslim man. Therefore, prior to killing the animal, a prayer and blessing are given. It is also stated that if multiple animals are to be killed, no animal should ever see the killing of a fellow animal. In my opinion, this practice creates a human-animal connection and promotes a true appreciation for the sacrifice of the animal and its ability to meet many daily human needs. This is in contrast to the Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations (CAFOs) common in the United States. These CAFOs hold large numbers of animals, often inside and at high concentrations, with the goal of producing as much meat as possible at the lowest possible cost. These animals are placed on conveyor belts at slaughter time and are moved through the process in rapid succession. Mistakes are often made, animals suffer as a result, and there is little accountability among CAFO empoyees.

Animals in Niger are killed by slicing the throat and allowing the blood to drain from the animal. While the process is not necessarily quick, it is done in such a way so as not to cause the animal any distress. In watching the slaughter of Po-Po and subsequent killings for Tabaski, the Muslim holiday that follows the end of Ramadan, it was clear to me that the animal was calm prior to its death and there was very little struggle on the part of the animal. There were no cries of protest from the animals, nor did they fight the men keeping them still. While the animals undoubtedly felt some pain, a fact unavoidable in the killing of animals, they were not distressed or combative which allows for an easier passing.

Once the animal is clearly dead, the men begin to skin the animal. This is done by first cutting into the skin at the base of one hind leg and separating the skin from the flesh and bone. The men then begin to blow into the hole, which pushes air between the skin and flesh throughout the animals body (picture this as a giant animal balloon). They then remove the animals genitallia and discard it as it is considered dirty. The skin is then cut away from the body and set aside for other uses.

The process used in the slaughter and preparation of animals in Nigerien culture encourages that people be held accountable for their actions and does not allow people to use the "out of sight, out of mind" thinking to justify the practices of its people - a state of mind widely accepted in the United States.

After skinning the animal, it is then gutted. The skinning and gutting of the animal is not bloody or disgusting as the method they use to slaughter the animal allows the blood to fully drain before proceeding. The entrails are set aside to be washed, diced, and placed onto skewers to be cooked at a later time. The head and hooves are also set aside to be cooked the following day in a goat head stew. The carcass is then laid flat and two five-foot-long sticks are pierced through the skin in the shape of an X (see below).

A spit of sorts is constructed and the carcass is propped up against it. A fire is then lit about four feet away from the meat. The meat is slow cooked for about six hours and I can't even begin to tell you just how tender and tastey it turns out. Many of the following pictures document the cooking process and some I took in an attempt to create art out of an unfortunate situation.

The following day, Po-Po's head and feet were boiled and then placed ina sauce to be served over pounded millet. I made it a point to participate in every aspect of Po-Po's slaughter and wanted to experience all that he had to give to the community. That being said, I ate some of Po-Po's brain, tongue, and other mystery parts. I didn't enjoy it one bit, but I do have an appreciation for the fact that not a single part of Po-Po's body was wasted. Every piece of his body had a specific use and there was absolutely no waste in this process.

I write this entry not because I wish for everyone to become vegetarians. On the contrary, I simply hope to open people’s minds to other ways of doing things and to inspire people to think more about what they eat and the systems they support in their consumerism. I am not against the eating of meat; what I am against is the maltreatment of animals and the diversion away from the human-animal connection. Challenging the meat industry in the U.S. is my way of standing up for what I believe in. I do not expect everyone to feel the same way as me. I challenge you to find what it is you stand for and start taking action to insight change – whether it be the welfare system, the lack of programs for the homeless in San Francisco, or the rights of people with developmental disabilities. Whatever it is that you believe strongly in, I hope that this entry inspires you to think about it and how you might start to aid in that cause.

Suggested Reading: If you are at all interested in finding out more about the food we eat in America, I strongly suggest reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma, by Michael Pollan, if you haven’t already. It will begin to give you insight into what it is that makes it onto your dinnertable in the evening and into your digestive system without being judgmental or invasive. I found it to be a great introduction to the world of food and how it is used and misused in the U.S. And, as an added plug, it was written by an author from Berkeley, California – shout out to Cali!

Where Does the Time Go?: As of today, January 10, 2009, I have been living in Niger for six months. This is not only the longest I have ever been away from home, it is the longest I have ever gone without being able to see and touch the people I love. These sixth months have presented me with challenges that I never thought I could possibly face and while this has been one of the most difficult experiences in my life, it has undoubtedly made me a stronger, wiser, and more compassionate person. For that, I am truly grateful and will continue to fight through the homesickness, language frustrations, and cultural struggles in order to successfully finish my service in Niger.

In the past two months, I have been to visit friends in their villages, had some time to let loose a bit in the capitol, and have developed a much stronger bond with my community. Much like the rest of my time in Niger, I have been riding the emotional rollercoaster for the last couple months, and let’s just say, it’s a good thing I like rollercoasters. I have been hit with some intense bouts of homesickness and had to turn to friends for support – the friend I chose at the peak of my emotional rollercoaster ride doesn’t quite know what to do with crying people, so we were a pretty comical pair. But, without her support and willingness to just let me cry, I would probably be back in California searching for jobs that just don’t exist right now (Thanks T-Dub!).

I continue to face daily struggles, but with each passing day, I grow a little bit stronger and a little better equipped to face these challenges head on. As of today, there are only 20 months left of my service in Niger…

My “Piece” of Mind: Writing this blog has been one of the most rewarding and beneficial elements of my service in Niger thus far. Not only is this blog a means for me to accomplish one of the three primary goals of Peace Corps – helping promote a better understanding of Nigerien culture on the part of Americans – it is a way for me to clear my mind and express myself.

There are things about living in Niger that are so very different from life in America that it is often hard for others to even fathom what it is that I am experiencing. I am often only able to turn to my fellow volunteers, the people who are living and experiencing the same things as me, for support as they are the only people who will understand what I am dealing with and won’t look at me as if I am crazy. It is through this blog that I hope to share some of these differences in the hopes that my friends and family will have a better understanding of the daily challenges I face.

I also want this blog to serve as a medium for me to reach more than just my circle of friends and family. I have heard from many people that they have shared my blog with their circles friends and family and I couldn’t ask for anything better than that. There are people that I have never been acquainted with who follow my blog and sometimes it’s hard for me to believe that I have the opportunity to reach so many people through the simple act of posting my writing to this page.

While writing this blog every chance I get is a part of my work here in Niger, it has also provided me with an outlet for my thoughts, pains, and struggles. I take great joy and pride in writing these entries and feel a sense of relief at knowing that the people I look to for support in the States have a little bit better understanding of my experiences. Writing has become a sort of therapy for me and has opened a window to a kind of creativity that I have never tapped into before.

So, thank you for continuing to read my blog and please continue to share it with your family, friends, co-workers, etc.

“To whom much is given, much is expected”: With a great deal of time for thought and reflection, I have found myself thinking a lot about the American culture of giving, or the lack thereof. Here in Niger, as it is largely a Muslim country, people are very giving. If a struggling family with little money cooks a meal that will barely feed their own children and you show up to the house at dinnertime, they will gladly feed you despite the fact that they may go hungry themselves. This kind of generosity is not shown only to me being that I am American. In Niger, this kind of generosity is shown to all people regardless of their color, religion, socioeconomic status, etc.

One afternoon in my village, I read a newsletter from the organization that I used to work for in San Francisco. There was a piece on a woman who volunteers for the organization in which she offered insight into the reasons behind her desire to volunteer with adults with developmental disabilities. She mentioned having heard the quote, “To whom much is given, much is expected,” and how much it resonated with her.

After reading the piece, I found that I was also very struck by this quote. I began to think about the life that I have been blessed with and the opportunities available to me. I am one to whom much has been given and I do believe that as a person who has been lucky enough to lead such a privileged life, I am obligated to give back to those who were not dealt the same hand as me.

I am trying to apply this way of thinking to all that I do here in Niger. I am trying to be a more giving person – I want to adopt the Nigerien idea that when you give to another, something positive will eventually come back to you. I want to be less concerned with how my giving something away will affect me, but how it is going to improve the life of those who are on the receiving end. I find that when I am asked for money, I immediately think about the fact that if I give my money away, I won’t have it anymore and I think of all the things I can no longer buy with that money. When asked for something I own, I deny the request as if what I have is irreplaceable or absolutely necessary to my survival, when the truth is whatever they have asked for is available in abundance in the U.S.

I am trying to consciously change my thought patterns so that I am no longer concerned with what I will or will not be able to purchase with that money (and undoubtedly, what I would want to buy is nothing that I absolutely need). I truly have all that I need, especially in the material sense, and I know that I have the ability to help those who are in need and don’t have access to all of the things that they need to survive. I hope that in these next two years, this way of thinking becomes second nature and no longer requires an extra thought from me. If I can achieve this, then I believe I can bring the giving spirit of Niger home to America and perhaps it will lead others through example to the benefits of giving even in times of hardship.

“Ay man faham.” – Language Barriers: Learning two new languages, switching between the two (sometimes within the same conversation), trying desperately to understand what’s being said to me, and trying to make myself understood is a daily struggle for me. It gets easier with every passing day as I get more and more comfortable with both French and Zarma, but there have definitely been moments full of miscommunication.

One afternoon during my first month at post, I went to the main road to search out some street food for a snack. I went to my favorite Solani (yogurt in a bag) guy and bought a couple bags of Solani. As I was walking back to my house, a group of men starting calling out to me. I heard them yelling “wundiya” (Zarma word for young woman), Madame, and making the “Pssst” noise that is perfectly acceptable in Niger when you wish to get a person’s attention. I thought that this group of men was just trying to get my attention because they wanted to talk to the Annasara (Zarma word for stranger/white person) and I was not interested in dealing with all of the marriage proposals that were inevitable in this situation. That being said, I ignored the men and kept walking. Of the few words that I could actually understand, I heard them saying Solani amidst the rapid flow of Zarma coming from these men. At this point, I thought without a doubt that they were just interested in harassing me and wanted nothing more than for me to give them the Solanis I was carrying. I continued walking with my head held high and walked with a purpose, determined not to let these men get to me. They continued to yell to me until I was out of ear shot. I was irritated and wished that I had the language to tell them that they were disrespectful and should be ashamed of themselves.

I was nearing the end of my walk back to my house when I looked down at the bag I was carrying with my Solanis in it. I noticed that I didn’t have a good hold on the bag and my Solanis were dangling precariously from the bag, about to fall to the ground. I realized in that moment that the group of men was not yelling at me to harass me and ask for my Solanis, they were calling out to me to tell me that I was about to lose my Solanis. I instantly felt horrible and recognized that I was too quick to assume the worst in this group of men.

When you’re in a new culture, learning a new language, and trying desperately to figure out how to integrate, these things are bound to happen. I definitely learned that even though I stick out like a sore thumb here and everyone is interested in me, that everyone is not out to get me. In fact, here in Niger, it is quite the opposite. The people of Niger are so welcoming and understand how important it is to treat their guests with warmth and kindness. Another lesson learned…

Le Lézard et le Savon: As you all may know, I have the luxury of an indoor bucket bath area in my house. It was painted dark blue by the previous volunteer and provides a great haven for those unsavory creatures that abhor the light and wish to torment me with their presence. Among the menagerie of insects that wish to call my “bathroom” their home exists one pleasant inhabitant: a gecko. He is about four inches from nose to the tip of his tail, his coloring is a mixture of neon greens and pinks, and I have named him Jack.

I enjoy having this little guy around – he’s cute, tiny, and he helps in my quest to control the insects in my house. Although I do love Jack, he has one slightly irritating habit – he has an affinity for soap and habitually expresses his love for soap at four in the morning.

The previous volunteer left behind a small blue soap dish and two pieces of old, petrified, Nigerien soap. I have neglected to dispose of this soap as a direct result of laziness and no real need to get rid of it. I first learned of Jack’s love of soap one morning when I happened to be awake at 4am because I was making frequent trips to the latrine due to a case of food poisoning. I had just laid down after an episode of flushing out whatever toxins had found their way into my system and began to hear the sound of something banging around in my bathroom for about five minutes. I was a little unsettled by the noise and unsure of its cause, but too sick to care that much.

The next morning, after recovering from the food poisoning, I decided to see if I could find out what had taken place in the bathroom the night before. I wasn’t entirely sure I would like what I was going to find, so I made sure to arm myself with a flip-flop before entering the bathroom. I flipped the light switch on and walked into the bathroom, arm cocked with flip-flop in hand poised for the kill. Luckily, there were no unsavory creatures to speak of and I was able to relax and survey the scene. I looked around and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary right off the bat, but then I noticed that a piece of petrified soap was missing from the soap dish. I glanced around the bath area and found the missing piece of soap lying next to the drain hole of my bath area. I immediately connected all of the dots and realized that it must have been Jack who had made all of the racket the night before.

I left for the capitol that day, so I wasn’t able to figure out if it was truly Jack that had been playing with the soap. However, when I returned to my village, my suspicions were confirmed when I was awoken again (on multiple occasions) in the early morning by the same silly behavior and came to find the soap in new location the following day.

Jack is an excellent addition to my home, but I can’t help but wish, especially at four in the morning, that he preferred my soft, noiseless loofa to soap. Then perhaps I could at least sleep soundly until the first call to prayer at five in the morning. But, if soap keeps Jack around, I suppose I can learn to live with it.

Hincinizey (Baby Goats) – My Babies:

John Henry: He was the first-born, a strapping young man with his white fur speckled in tiny brown spots just like his mother. He was obviously eager to greet the world as it only took about ten minutes for him to make his entrance. He learned to stand and walk within an hour of his birth and had a very healthy appetite.

Now, nearly 3 ½ months later, John Henry is growing fast – his belly widening with every passing day. Although he was the first born, and the larger of the two born that evening, he is a timid fellow and doesn’t like to venture too far from his mother’s side. In all honesty, he’s a “Mama’s Boy.” Even though he is too weary to really explore his curiosities, I love him dearly and hope that with age and maturity, he gains the bravado to leave his mother’s side and make his own way.

John Henry is center and that's his mama to the right. Eating...as usual.

He's a bit camera shy.

Just hangin' out.

Jacco: As the second-born, he was significantly smaller than his big brother and had his work cut out for him. He was wide-eyed and curious from the start, but he simply couldn’t get his legs to cooperate and couldn’t get moving as quickly as he obviously hoped to. Eventually, he found his legs, and just like John Henry, he had a very healthy appetite.

He was my favorite from the moment he entered this world. He is solid brown with a small white blaze on his head. He looks nothing like his mother or brother, so I can only assume he got his father’s good looks. During his first few weeks of life, I would pick him up and pet him and he would often tuck his head between my shoulder and my neck and fall asleep. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that one should not cuddle with baby goats – they give you rashes and ringworm. As my mother always told me, “Look with your eyes, not with your hands.” It’s taken 26 years, but I think I may have learned my lesson. However, he still comes to me for scratches from time to time and of course, I oblige.

In his fourth month of life, Jacco has grown into a strapping young lad. He is now equal in size to his brother and has got quite the belly these days. He remains curious and slightly mischievous – often encouraged by the third baby of the family whom I will introduce momentarily. If I had 100 CFA for every time I show up to my friend’s house to hear that my goats had eaten all of the food, I would be a wealthy woman.

This picture makes him look so big, but he's just a little guy.

He loves banana chips...and anything else edible for that matter.

I think he looks so regal in this photo. My handsome little guy!

Bella: The lone girl in the bunch, Bella was born to my friend’s other female goat. She was born two weeks following John Henry and Jacco and was born an only child. As an only child, Bella was able to develop into a sizable young lady and despite being born two weeks later, was the same size as John Henry and Jacco. Even though she is not related to John Henry and Jacco, she is a perfect mix of the two – a patchy brown and white beauty.

Bella holds a special place in my heart. She is no princess, in fact the best way to describe her is as a troublemaker. From day one, she has been an independent and brave little lady. She is definitely the most daring of the three and certainly leads the pack in mischievous behavior. She pushes the boundaries on everything and the boys can often be found following in her step. She is a leader by nature and continually makes her own way in this world.

That's the "I swear it wasn't me!" face.

I have her attention now, but give her two minutes and she'll be into something else.

She's a sweet little lady.

Jacco and Bella snacking together.

Shout Outs: I have to give this shout out to my bro! He has let me vent, even when I am simply overreacting to something trivial. He has picked me up in those moments when I feel so low that I can’t see even the slightest glimmer of a silver lining. He has encouraged me every step of the way through this adventure. And, he has reminded me on many occasions just how lucky I am to be here and how so many people would love to be in my place. Thank you Christopher – without you, I could never do this.

It's photo time again! These are meant to help give you an idea of what my living situation is like and who some of my friends are. Bismillah... This is a seasonal lake just outside my village. It's absolutely beautiful.

Another shot of the lake.

I saw these kids as I was walking home from the lake and thought it would make a great photo.

Another shot I took while walking.

They really wanted to have their picture taken. This reminds me of AT&T commercials...more bars in more places ;)

This is the view from my concession door...that's my house!

Facing my house, this is looking down the left side. This is my AWESOME shade tree.

This is looking toward the right from my concession door.

This is the view from the front door of my house, looking out toward my concession door.

Looking at my raised patio and the front door of my house.

That black patch on the right is my burn pile.

Looking down the right side of my house. The green patches are melons!

This is my dilapidated shade hangar...I'll be using it as my goat shelter.

Looking down the left side of my house at my latrine - close-up to follow.

This is behind my house...not all that exciting.

My water spigot!

These giant toads live at my water spigot. Sometimes there are 7-9 of them piled on top of each other between the rocks. I love them!

I talk to them every night when I get water for my bucket bath. "Hello little froggies, what're you doing?" (some of you will know exactly which voice I use for this one-sided conversation.)

My latrine: this is where the magic happens...every morning, promptly at 6:30am...seriously, you could set your watch by it. What? Too much information? Welcome to my world!

This is the view from the mesa accross the road from my house. The pole in the center of the photo is the radio tower - that's essentialy my house.

The view to the left from my favorite place to sit on the mesa.

The view to the right...

This is the soccer field below the mesa where I will put on a bi-annual soccer tournament...in sha allah.

This is my baba (father) in my village. Doesn't he look strickingly like Morgan Freeman?

This is one of my best friends at post. He is a fabulous tailor and one of the most positive people I know. He rocks!

This is the woman whose family I eat with every night. And, that little guy on her back is "my son."

Warning: I have promised to bring this little guy home with me to the U.S. He is my favorite baby!

One of my favorite people (the woman I eat dinner with) and some of her motley crew.

We laugh so much when we're together!

My little brother (my friend's son).

This is one of my favorite little guys. He's such a sweet kid and so loving!

She has an amazing spirit and reminds me so much of home!

This little girl is an absolute sweetheart.

The girls!

I don't know this woman, but I thought this would be a nice photo.

Another one of my best friends at post. This woman rocks!

I think she is so incredibly beautiful.

This is her daughter...I love this kid, she is so sassy (just like her mom).

Oh so cute!

Another great friend who is the wife of the brother of my friend above. She is such a gentle soul.

Her little boy...this is the face he makes all the time. So silly!

Another friend that lives in the same concession as the two friends above. She never fails to make me laugh!

This is her husband. He plays the drum at village weddings, baptemes, etc.

This is their eldest son...he has such a gorgeous face and is the sweetest little boy.

Their youngest son. This guy can dance and can already bang out a beat on the drum - just like his daddy.

Their little girl. She got in the bucket on her own - we don't know why.

...she hates the camera! (This is one of my favorite shots!)

I just finished my first month at post (the village I now live in), which for most Peace Corps Volunteers is one of the most challenging periods of time in their service. I had a great first four days full of setting up a home and doing projects around the house, but in my second week, the projects were finished and I was left feeling alone and homesick. The homesickness was almost unbearable and I would be lying if I said that I never thought about how much easier it would be to just come home. But, at the end of that second week, I got a call from a friend who let my cry and told me to stay strong and within a day or two, I seemed to sort of wake up one morning and find that I had conquered the homesickness. During the subsequent three weeks, I began to create a routine for myself and really started to reach out to my friends in my village. Sitting here now, typing this blog entry after five weeks at post, I can honestly say that I am happy and content here in Niger. I will always miss my friends and family back home, but I have found family and friends here that help me cope with those feelings.

The following topics in this blog are topics I have dealt with in my first month at post. Some of them will reflect the difficult times that I came across and others will show the comedy in this crazy adventure I am on. As one of my fellow PCVs in country has said, for all its ups and downs, month one at post has been absolutely invaluable.

Bismillah! (Arabic word meaning essentially “dig-in”)

Home Sweet Home – Setting Up My House: During training, someone mentioned that home is where your stuff is. I’ve never fully understood that until now. As much as I consider home to be the house I grew up in in Alameda, I realize that if I am going to make a life for myself here in Niger, I need my house here to feel like a home. I have really enjoyed the process of making my house into a home. Although I don’t have much in the way of furniture or material items, I have taken what I do have and created a space that suits my lifestyle and my rather obsessive/anal habits. There are a few things I still want/need to do – decorate the walls and get a curtain and a shelving unit made – but those things will come in time. It feels good to come back to my house after a day of trying desperately to use and understand two foreign languages. I finally feel like I have a space that is just for me – a space in which I can relax and just be.

My House Rules: I live right next door to the radio station in my village and some other volunteers and I do radio shows once a week for my community. Because my house becomes the “kick-it” spot on radio days, I often have anywhere from 3-4 other volunteers in my house. As I have mentioned before, I have a slightly obsessive/anal way of being, especially when it comes to my living space. With that said, I came up with some rules for my house:

1. The screen door is there for a reason – KEEP IT CLOSED! Contrary to popular belief, I’m sweet and mosquitoes like me.

2. Toilet paper is for noses, not for butts – EMBRACE THE BUTA!

3. Shoes off in the house – unless you have an uncontrollable desire to sweep.

4. If electricity isn’t necessary, don’t use it – I am a CYE Volunteer, but I’m still on a Peace Corps budget.

5. Don’t forget to choose your Angel Cards!

A Day in the Life – Being a PCV in Niger: My days are much more full and vary from day to day much more now than they did when I first got to post, but here is a general idea of what my days look like:

I wake up sometime between 6:45am – 7:30am. I usually lounge in bed for a little while and actually get up at about 8am. I go for a 3k run and then come back home to do some exercises and stretch. When I finish that whole process, I sit and read for a little while in order to cool down before eating breakfast. I usually cook some oatmeal of tapioca for breakfast (the extent of my cooking here in country – except for the occasional macaroni and cheese sent from home). After breakfast, I do a few chores around the house and get myself ready to head out into the village. Sometimes I have meetings or “work-related” things to do, but because I don’t have a defined job here in Niger, I make up my own schedule when it comes to work. I conveniently leave the house around noon and head to visit some of my village friends because they feed me lunch. In the afternoon, I visit two families – one with kids and one without. I usually hang out for 3-4 hours out in the village with friends and then I head home to rest for a little while. I usually run into one of my closest friends on the way back to my house so I stop to chat with him for a while. He’s been an amazing friend to me and has taught me so much about what it takes to be a successful member of my village. When I get back to my house, I do any chores that need to be done, I read or do Sudoku puzzles, and I await any possible calls from home that come at 6pm my time. I either wait until about 6:15pm or until I finish with a phone conversation before heading over to my friend’s house for dinner. I consider this family to be my family here in Niger. The take such great care of me and love me dearly. They’ve even given me their last name. I have so much fun at that house and always find myself laughing until my belly hurts. At about 9pm or so, I say goodnight to my family and head to my house to get ready for bed. I take a bucket bath and climb into bed where I read and await any calls from home.

My days are simple and often there isn’t much going on, but that’s how life is here in Niger. I find that days tend to sort of creep by, but the weeks and months have seemed to fly by. I suppose it’s much the same as back in the U.S. where on Monday morning it feels like we’ll never reach Friday and the upcoming weekend. Everyday is like a weekend day here and I am definitely enjoying that. When I move back to the States and have to seek out a 9-5 job again, I am really going to have a tough time adjusting back to that kind of work/schedule.

One Day at a Time – The Little Moments: As I struggled through the emotional rollercoaster of month one, I found that the little moments that brought a smile to my face got me through each day.

I go for a run in the morning five days per week. I run about 3k down a laterite road close to my house. As I run, I have swarms of children who rush to the road in order to give me a high-five as I pass. Seeing these children never fails to bring a smile to my face and it always reminds me about why I am here. There is one little boy, a boy with one of the sweetest faces I have ever seen, and he meets me at the road and runs about half of the distance with me. His smile and his gentle nature always make me feel so calm.

One evening, I was at the family’s house that I eat dinner with every night. They have two sheep and two female goats. Both goats were pregnant and were going to give birth in a matter of days. That evening, one of the goats gave birth to two baby goats – both boys. I was there to watch as she gave birth and cleaned her two little babies. I watched them stand for the first time and take their first steps. The family even let me give them names – the bigger one is Henri (he’s white with brown spots) and the smaller one is Jacco (he’s all brown with a tiny white spot on the top of his head). I couldn’t help but think during this time that I may never get the chance to see something like this again.

There is a huge party at the end of Ramadan in which all of the Muslim families cook huge meals and share their food with their friends and family. No expense is spared for this party and those who can afford to splurge on fancy food items. The family that I eat with every night chose to slaughter two chickens and one rooster for the party. As far as I understand, in Muslim culture, only Muslim men can slaughter animals and there is a ritual/blessing that must happen before the animal is killed. I was able to watch and participate as much as possible in the slaughter of the three birds. It certainly wasn’t a pleasant experience, especially for a vegetarian, but it was nevertheless an interesting experience and one that I may never have again. I have always wondered if I would be able to kill a chicken for food, but now I am pretty confident that I wouldn’t be able to do it.

I am getting to try all kinds of new foods. I am now addicted to sugar cane! There’s a song in Zarma about sugar cane and every time I eat sugar cane with the family I eat dinner with, we sing the song. I’m not able to turn down food here as it’s not culturally acceptable to do so, so I am no longer a true vegetarian. That being said, I have had to eat chicken livers (not too fond of those) and I ate some kind of animals intestines (not that bad actually). I eat boiled peanuts and peanuts straight from the garden. No matter what I may eat, I always think about and appreciate the fact that these foods were grown in someone’s garden or the animal was raised by someone’s family. Anything you eat here (that’s not pre-packaged) was homegrown and doesn’t contain all the preservatives, hormones, etc. of the foods offered in the U.S. Getting to try all of these new foods always makes me appreciate being here and reminds me to embrace every little moment.

Generally speaking, these are all small, short-lived moments, but they bring a smile to my face and remind me that this is a once in a lifetime experience.

Me, Myself, and I – Self-Reliance: One of the greatest challenges I have faced thus far in Niger is the feeling of utter loneliness. It is amazing how one can be surrounded by a village of people and yet feel so alone. Part of this is a direct result of not having the language skills to truly communicate or relate to the villagers and part of it is simply because I am eight time zones away from all of the people I know and love. In facing this challenge, I have learned to be self-reliant and self-sufficient. I have learned to be enough for myself and have found in myself an individual strength that I never knew existed. While having to be “alone” all the time has been very difficult for me and has induced many tears, I am so grateful that this opportunity has shown me these things in myself.

In the U.S., I am an independent woman in that I don’t need a boyfriend to feel complete and I am confident in who I am. However, in just about every other way, I am an extremely co-dependent person. I don’t cook for myself, I run to Mama and Pop whenever I need something fixed, and I have never been able to live alone. While I love my alone time now and then, I need/crave human contact. I need people to talk to and hang out with and I am very tactile so I enjoy touch – a simple hug or a high five. Here in Niger, these things are not always easy to access and I have had to look to myself to provide those things that I long for. I have learned to embrace being alone and to enjoy the silence that comes with it. I have learned that I am capable of doing so many things for myself that I would never have tried to do in the States. More than ever before, I am enough for me.

Animal Instincts – Eating Meat Again: Despite my new found independence, I am still not worth a thing in the kitchen. It also doesn’t help that I own one pot, one spoon, and one knife, period, here in Niger. Plus, I don’t have running water, so doing what few dishes I may end up with becomes a serious project. All that being said, I cook simple breakfasts and that’s the extent of the cooking that I do for myself. Much the same as in the U.S., I prefer to rely on others for food and enjoy eating what has been prepared by a truly masterful cook – which in my case is often the 12-year-old daughter of the family I eat with every night. That’s right, a 12-year-old girl can cook an entire meal, a very delicious meal at that, over a fire without all of the conveniences of an American kitchen, and all I can master is macaroni and cheese or tapioca. I’m hopeless!

Because I eat with villagers so much, I am not in control of what I am served. As I’ve mentioned before, turning down food is really disrespectful here, so it’s important that you eat what you are offered. I started out telling my villagers that I didn’t eat meat, which they understood to a degree, but it just meant that they pulled the chunks of meat out of whatever they were offering me to eat. Therefore, I have not been able to be a true vegetarian.

This realization lead me to do some soul-searching and reflection about my beliefs and how they apply to my life in Niger. A great deal of my belief in being a vegetarian stems from my extreme disgust with the meat industry in the U.S. I find the practices of the meat industry to be horrific, inhumane, and truly disgusting. However, these things don’t exist in Nigerien culture. The food that they produce and eat has been home grown and individually raised. Animals that are slaughtered for their meat are killed by the hands of a Muslim man after a ritual/blessing. There are no hormones, chemicals, or machines involved. Not one part of the animal’s body is wasted – a specialty here is goat head stew (I won’t be trying that).

After considering these things, I have chosen to eat meat while here in Niger. It feels good to eat meat that I know has been raised and slaughtered by the person that is cooking it for me. I feel more connected to what I am eating now and that is an amazing feeling. One major benefit to eating meat here is that my village has the BEST street meat guy in Niger. People from all over the country know of him and stop to get meat from him as they pass through my village. At least once a week I get some sheep from him and it is absolutely amazing.

I know that in the U.S., I will never be able to go back to eating meat – my beliefs are simply too strong and would never be able to eat meat with a clear conscious. But, I will enjoy the opportunity to eat meat while I’m here and know that here it is a natural process.

Funny Quirks in Zarma: The more I learn Zarma, the more I realize that it is one seriously quirky language. I can’t help but share same of it with all of you. Here are some of my favorite words and their meanings:

Beni hi – literally means “sky boat” – airplane

Fu me – literally means “house mouth” – door

Fu ize – literally means “house child” – bedroom

Nda ni – literally means “with you” – burrs that stick to you

Beni hari – literally means “sky water” – rain

Kambize – literally means “arm children” – fingers

Modiji – literally means “eye mirror” – eye glasses

Ceize – literally means “foot children” – toes

Irkoy – literally means “our keeper” – Allah (God)

Cingoy – literally means “night work” – SEX!

Shout Outs: I want to give this shout out to my parents. Without their love and support, there is no way that I would be able to do what I am doing. Thank you so much for everything you are doing stateside to make this experience easier for me. I love you, miss you, and think of you everyday!

No Concept of Time: Nigeriens do not have a concept of time, or rather, they have a very different concept of time than in the U.S. There are essentially three times of day in Niger: morning, afternoon, and night. The majority of Nigeriens do not have clocks, watches, cellphones, or any other device that tells time, so life in Niger does not follow a concrete schedule of time.

One of the most common frustrations among Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) in Niger arises from this difference in concepts of time. In the U.S., we are taught from a very young age that school, work, etc. starts at a specific time and ends at a specific time. We are taught to always be on time and that being late will incur consequences. If you are habitually late to work, you’ll find yourself out of a job. If you show up late to a meeting, the meeting will either happen without you or will not happen at all. In Niger, if a meeting is scheduled for 8:00am, it is commonplace for Nigeriens to show up anywhere from 30 minutes to 5 hours late. This is the result of many things: perhaps they ran into a fellow villager that is going through a tough time and needs to talk, perhaps they had a wedding or baby-naming ceremony to attend, maybe the night before brought the first rains of the season and they had to go work in the fields in order to get the growing season started. Whatever the reason may be, it is acceptable to be late in Niger – Nigeriens and Americans alike will be excused for tardiness.

In order to get things accomplished as a PCV, it is important to be aware of this cultural difference and learn to roll with the punches. Nothing will ever happen in a timely fashion here and there will always be surprises along the way. I can’t say with any real authority that this won’t be a source of frustration for me even though I know that it is bound to happen. All I can do is bring a book – if someone is late for a meeting, at least I won’t just be sitting there twiddling my thumbs.

Toilets – I miss them! Oh the convenience of a flushable toilet. Being able to hop out of bed in a sleepy stupor, sit down to relieve yourself, then flush it all away, and return to a blissful dreamland is a luxury I truly miss. I now understand why the toilet is referred to as a “Porcelain God.” Ain’t that just the truth? Even as I sit here writing this blog entry, I have visions of this bright, shiny, glistening white toilet surrounded by a halo of bright light, twinkling and beckoning to me. The things you miss when you no longer have access to all of the comforts of American living. Another lesson in not taking what we have in the U.S. for granted. Now go tell your toilets that you’re sorry for taking them for granted and that you promise to do better…

Majestic Beauties – Giraffes: It was just after sunset and I was riding the bus from the capitol to my village. I was dosing in and out when suddenly I heard a bit of commotion on an otherwise quiet bus ride. I open my eyes, glance out the window, and behold a small herd of giraffes. They were grazing very close to the road and looked so amazing. I have seen giraffes at the zoo and at Marine World, but there’s something to be said for seeing an animal like the giraffe in its natural setting – wild and free. I was awestruck and had another one of those “I live in Africa” moments.

I was talking to a current volunteer about having seen the giraffes on the way to my village and she told me that she had seen them about three times during her service. She added that each time she saw the giraffes it was the start of a really amazing period of time for her in Niger. So, if the same is true for me, I am starting the next phase of this crazy adventure with awesome giraffe energy!

10 Reasons Why MW Is My Favorite:

She shares her food with me.

She’s from the Bay!

She reminds me of my girlfriends from home.

She lets me vent.

She draws me emo stick figures when I’m feeling down.

She’s wicked smart, funny, and kind.

She goes on photo safaris with me.

She understands the parachute game.

She lets me be me.

She makes me laugh.

8 Signs You’re Not in Kansas Anymore:

You know you’re in Niger when receiving Duct Tape is a treat.

You know you’re in Niger when seeing breasts is commonplace.

You know you’re in Niger when 90 degrees is a cold day.

You know you’re in Niger when you forget what knees look like.

You know you’re in Niger when getting somewhere by camelback is normal.

You know you’re in Niger when you see a cell tower in the middle of a village of straw huts.

You know you’re in Niger when a really awful Brazilian soap opera dubbed in French is the highlight of your evening TV watching.

You know you’re in Niger when the food pyramid drops from 7 food groups to 3 (grains, proteins, and fats).

Words of Wisdom, Part III: I sit here writing, struggling with some homesickness, reflecting after a fellow trainee has made the decision to go home to the U.S. and as I sit here, the song that starts to play on my friend’s iTunes is, "Don’t Worry Baby" by The Beach Boys. It’s funny how things seem to happen at just the right moment, especially here. So, as I find it quite fitting, my words of wisdom for this entry are some of the lyrics from the song :

"Well, it’s been building up inside of me for oh I don’t know how long. I don’t know why, but I keep thinking something’s bound to go wrong. But she looks in my eyes and makes me realize when she says, ‘Don’t worry baby. Don’t worry baby, everything will turn out alright. Don’t worry baby." –The Beach Boys

Making a Human Connection – My Challenge to Those at Home: In Nigerien culture, greeting others is very important. When Nigeriens pass each other on the road, they say hello, ask each other about their health, how their day is going, about their families, etc. When Nigeriens approach a vendor at the market or on the side of the road, before asking for a given item, they greet the vendor and ask about their health, family, and so on. For example, when I return home after a day at Tondo Bon, I greet my host mother with the following : "Fofo ay na. Mate ga ham? Mate ni go?" (Hi Mom. How is your body? How is your day?). I ask similar questions when I buy breakfast in the morning, when I’m interested in buying something at the market, or when I pass another Nigerien on the road. Nigeriens have an amazing sense of community and understand the value of making human connections.

This is an element of American culture that is severely lacking. Americans, generally speaking, have a very rigid "every man for himself" mindset. We need our space and protect that space at all costs. We are weary of those we pass on the street and avoid eye contact with others whenever possible. We look at others in need and think one or both of the following thoughts: they must have really messed up in order to be in such a dire situation or I’m sure someone else is doing something to help them, so I don’t need to worry about it. We don’t make connections with other human beings, we don’t ask those around us about their health, family, or work. If we speak with strangers, it’s usually all business. There is very little concept of community in the states.

I would like to challenge those at home to reach out to other human beings and take time to greet the people that you see. When you’re ordering your morning cup of coffee, take the time to say hello to the person behind the counter, ask them how they are doing, engage them in conversation. When you sit down at a restaurant, before making your demands, take a moment to talk a little with your server. When you’re checking out at the market, talk with the cashier/bagger. It may seem like a small, insignificant task to some of you and to others it may be a question of really having to leave your confort zone, but I guarantee you that you will make an impact on others. Perhaps the person you approach is having an awful day and your interest in chatting with them, however briefly, may be the thing that turns their whole day around. I can also guarantee that should you choose to accept this challenge, you will be a much richer and happier person. Making connections with other human beings is healing and it will lend itself to a greater sense of community.

I envision this challenge to be a kind of ‘pay it forward’ operation. As you make an effort to reach out to others, take the opportunity to teach them about what you’re doing. Tell them about where I am living, what the people here do, and about the challenge I have set forth. Encourage others to try it and to teach others about it. Maybe, just maybe, in the two years that I am gone, this challenge will have gone full circle in our tiny Bay Area community and I will hear about it from a complete stranger when I return.

Here are some photos from my second photo safari. Enjoy! My sector: Community & Youth Education...the best team in Niger!

I am the poster child for Fari Masa! Photo by Marisa Wong.Mmm, tasty fried dough balls! Photo by Marisa Wong.These are my host sinlings' friends. They are the cutest kids.

My bodyguard!

Bush taxi. And this isn't half of what a bush taxi can carry... Just a man on a bike.

I thought that this was a funny shot: a straw hut with a cell tower in the background. How the world in changing. A boy and his donkey...artsy-fartsy stuff (Pictures 1-2).

Having fun working on my photography skills. She is just so amazingly beautiful!

As if herding sheep wasn't work enough, she has to caryy firewood as well...on her head! More artsy-fartsy shots. I like shots of feet and legs...weird, I know. Playing with black and white. A little boy after a day of farming. Playing with black and white again. Just an interesting girl with an interesting pose. I thought she was intriguing (Pictures 1-3)

Snot-nosed kids. The little one on the left is scared of Anasara (white people).

Teenage boys doing teenage boy things.

More kids.

Artsy-fartsy shot of millet.

Women in Niger are so incredibly strong and work harder than anyone in the world. They're so amazing!

Building houses (Pictures 1-3)

Seeing a man about a horse.

Baobab tree...typical Africa.

Just trying to tap into the photographer within...

Beautiful landscape.

I just found this to be an interesting shot. Rainy season does interesting things.

Sleeping Outside – The Milky Way: One of the most amazing parts of being in Niger is getting to sleep outside under the stars every night. I fall asleep every night while staring up at a sky full of twinkling lights. It’s so clear here that the Milky Way seems to be only miles out of reach rather than millions of light years away. I often find myself wondering who else is looking up at the same stars or who will be gazing at them when night falls wherever they are in the world. It helps to think that the people I love back home will be looking toward the heavens thinking of me the same way that I think of them each night before I drift off into dreamland.

There are many things I have already become accustomed to here in Niger, and I wonder how challenging readjusting to life in America after two years will be.

Working My Fingers to the Bone - Laundry: Right now, I am completely spoiled and get my laundry done for me once a week. I bring my laundry up to Tondo Bon every Friday and the staff hand wash and iron it for me. It’s fabulous. However, a Nigerien will never wash your undergarments for you, which means that I have to hand wash my undies, bras, and socks (I have only worn socks once in about 36 days).

I usually do my own laundry once a week. My mama would be so proud of me! I take a small bucket, a packet of Omo laundry detergent, and whatever needs washing into my bucket bath area to be washed. In order to wash clothes here, you fill a bucket with some water, add the detergent, and then scrub the garment by rubbing it vigorously against itself. On more than one occasion, I have literally rubbed my knuckles raw from scrubbing my clothes together.

I will admit to missing the convenience of a washing machine, but doing laundry by hand is pretty cool. It feels good to do some real work and feel like I have accomplished something. I feel as though with every little task/skill I complete or accomplish I am becoming more and more self-sufficient. I have been sheltered and coddled for last 26 years and I have never been truly forced to fend for myself. My situation is drastically different now and the only person I can look to to get things accomplished is myself. It feels good to know that I can be self-sufficient and have the ability to do things for myself.

Mefloquine, Malaria, and Hallucinations: I take a pill once a week to help protect myself against contracting Malaria. These pills are great in respect to helping defend my immune system, but as with most medications, there are myriad side effects. If there was a commercial for Mefloquine, I can say with great certainty that 7/8 of the commercial would be devoted to the side effects. I can’t help but picture an advertisement for Viagra right now…ahhh, home…

Headaches, depression, anxiety, intestinal upset (really, what won’t upset our intestines in Niger?!?!), vivid dreams, hallucinations, and a long, long list of other possible side effects are associated with Mefloquine. I have been the lucky recipient of some Mefloquine-induced hallucinations. I see bugs and birds (crows to be exact). I know some of you may be thinking, well aren’t there a ton of real bugs and birds in Niger and the answer is yes. However, there aren’t any crows and since I frequently “see” them flying at my head, I’m pretty confident they don’t actually exist. As for the bugs, I just tend to see creepy crawlies moving in the periphery of my vision and when I turn to get a good look at what unimaginable insect is crawling far too close for comfort, I find that there was nothing there in the first place.

Funny hallucination story: I was over at some friends’ house and I needed to use their latrine as it was getting close to nightfall and as you already know, I do NOT use the latrine after dark. So, I go into the latrine, drop my drawers, and push their latrine cover aside. Upon pushing the latrine cover aside, to my extreme horror, about four cockroaches come barreling out of the hole. Startled, I jump about 3ft. in the air, scream like a little girl, and proceed to run out of the latrine while trying to pull my pants up (big no-no – one should ALWAYS have their pants on before exiting the latrine, especially in Niger). Luckily, my friends’ host family was not in the vicinity, so they weren’t able to see me with my pants half off. One of my friends, who has nerves of steel, grabbed a sizable rock and marched right into the latrine and proceeded to smash the cockroaches (she did this amidst fits of hysterical laughter). She assured me that the coast was clear, so I went back into the latrine after working up the gusto to do so. Again, I drop my drawers and then stand their bare-assed staring at the latrine hole having an internal debate about whether I truly want to squat over that hole and risk a visit from an uninvited guest and consequently peeing all over myself. Before I even have the chance to squat, I notice something moving out of the corner of my eye. I turn and see a cockroach crawling along the base of the wall. I glance about a foot behind the cockroach and see a mouse chasing the roach. Once again, I scream like a small child and start grabbing at my undies so I can pull up my pants. I can’t get a good hold on my undies, so I can’t get my pants up. Now the real panic sets in. I want out of that latrine stat, but my pants are still around my ankles. Finally, I get my pants up and dart out of the latrine. My friends are laughing uncontrollably as I try to recount what happened. My friend picks up the rock and marches right back into that latrine to defend my honor and what does she find? NOTHING! That’s right, as it turns out, the whole thing was just one of my Mefloquine hallucinations. Happy times!

Funny Nigerien Anecdotes, Part II: One of my closest friends here in Niger is a super rad girl that grew up in Hawaii, but is a San Francisco girl at heart and now calls The Bay home. She also happens to be Chinese. Nigeriens love to point out and comment on her heritage and when we walk down the road together, there’s no shortage of people saying, “Ooo, Chinois.” (Chinois is the French word for Chinese.) There’s a definite air of awe in their voices as they pass my friend and make their comments.

During Dymystification, a weekend spent with current Volunteers out in the field, my friend came back with a story that I think will always be an inside joke for my stage and the staff alike.

In both Hausa and Zarma, the word for “no” is “Ah-ah.” One afternoon, while touring the village she was visiting, a man noticed my friend and said, “Ooo, Japonais.” My friend corrected the man and said, “Ah-ah, Americaine.” This man was not convinced and proceeded to wave a single finger in front of her while saying, “Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, Japonais!” He was adamant that he knew her actual heritage and that she was incorrect in thinking she is Chinese.

She shared this story with all of my stage and the staff upon returning from Demyst and since then, we are constantly saying, “Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, Japonais!” Perhaps you need to be here to appreciate the hilarity of the story, but I think everyone can appreciate the comedy in having someone tell you that you are not the ethnicity that you are.

Packages, Letters, and “YES PLEASE!”: Let me start by saying that I absolutely LOVE getting packages. Seriously, it’s like Christmas, but so much better because I actually need the stuff. Letters are equally as AWESOME and I go a little nutty every time the post comes. That being said, keep ‘em coming!

There are many things that I just don’t have access to here in Niger or that are rare and expensive so I can’t afford them. I miss snack foods! I know I’ve said that before, but snacks just don’t really exist in the majority of villages and when I do find them in the capitol, they’re just too darn expensive for my $2.50 per day budget. So, there are certain things that I simply can’t get too much of! If you’re feeling inclined to send a package, here are some things that I do and will always want/need (in no particular order):

Velveeta Cheese – smallest blocks available

Smarties – my favorite candies

Nutritional Yeast

Wasabi Peas

Dried Fruit

Envelopes – for sending letters home

Pictures – I want to see you guys!

Clif Bars – regular Clif Bars and Clif Mojo Bars

Soap – small, travel-sized, anti-bacterial bars

Blue Diamond Almonds – Wasabi and Soy Sauce flavor

Oreos

Nilla Wafers

Gold Fish Crackers

Pringles – Salt & Vinegar flavor

Cream of Wheat – individual packages (instant)

Ho – Ho’s

Fruit Snacks

Soccer Balls

Books

Quinoa

Any sauce mixes – especially those that just need water

Any muffin, brownie, cookie, or pudding mixes – especially those that just need water

Single serving jelly packets

Single serving condiment packets

Gobstoppers – my other favorite candies

AA and AAA batteries

CDs – make mixes of current songs…we don’t get any American music here!

DVDs – any really good new ones

When sending letters (or packages for that matter), throw a newspaper or magazine article (from Time, The Economist, Discover, etc.) in with it. It’ll help me keep up on current events and as many of you know, I like interesting things (I miss you T-Bizzle).

Thanks to all of you who have written and sent packages already. I have loved every one of them and can’t wait for what is already on the way!

Words of Wisdom, Part II: “Faith looks up, sorrow looks back to what might have been, and worry looks around to gather more woe. But faith, faith sees prospects for the future and moves ahead.” –Unknown Author

Shout Outs: My friends told me that I should give shout outs with each blog entry to friends and family. I think this is a superb idea, so here goes:

This entry’s shout out goes to Jason, Michele, and Baby G since it was their idea in the first place. I love you guys and miss you so very much. Send me some pictures of Baby G so I can see how big she’s getting!

My friend and I go on "Photo Safaris" together and take pictures of everything we see. She is an amazing photographer and has helped me to develop an eye for good shots. Here are some pictures from my first month in Niger. Enjoy... Matt and me in traditional Zarma clothes. Fashion Show July 2008.

Elise and me with some village kids. Photo by Marisa Wong!

Classic jumping picture with my stage. Photo by Marisa Wong!

More beautiful sunsets!

Just thought this was a neat shot.

Africa's version of Alameda.

Preparing to pound millet.

Solitude.

By the "lake."

Billy again...look at that face!

This is "Billy" the goat. I named him and he is my buddy. I love on him every morning and every evening. He's a sweet boy.

Donkey! (say it like Shrek)

Beautiful African sunset...this was an "I'm in Africa right now!" moment for me. Just amazing.

Little boy playing with a tire.

Women and children on their way home after a day of work in the fields.

Africa’s Hidden Gem - Niger: Now that the business end of things is out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff… Niger is an amazing country! Right now we’re in the rainy season so the country is completely green and lush. We’re at the tail end of mango season, so I’ve spent the last three weeks devouring some of the BEST mangoes I’ve ever tasted. Rainy season in Niger is the time for planting, so many families spend their days out in the fields planting millet, sorghum, and sesame. The crops that are grown during this season are harvested and are meant to feed a family for an entire year. If the rainy season is poor, crops will be limited, and some families won’t be able to harvest enough food to last a year. That being said, rainy season is also hunger season here. People have run or are running out of food and are waiting for their crops to grow, so their food stock is limited. It’s a tough time for everyone, but soon it will be cold season (which means temperatures during the day will only max out at about 90°F) and everyone will be happy and well fed again.

“Hard Corps” – Peace Corps Niger: Apparently the Peace Corps has three “hard core” posts: Mongolia, Mauritania, and NIGER. Mongolia is listed as one of the toughest posts because of the extreme weather and the general conditions of the country. Mauritania made the cut because of the extreme heat and the lack of resources. As for Niger, well it also makes the list because of the extreme heat and the lack of resources, and it has been dubbed the “shittiest” post. It was given this name because it is the post with the most cases of diarrhea per year per volunteer. Good old “Mr. D.” as we all fondly refer to him.

I have often heard the Peace Corps posts in the Caribbean referred to as the “Beach Corps.” How different it must be to serve there. I don’t think the Peace Corps is ever easy, but I do think I am pretty dog-on tough for making a life for myself here in Niger!

The Weather – Monsoon Season: Storms seem to come and go in an instant here. One minute there will be clear skies and scorching temperatures, the next moment the wind will be whipping, a wall of sand will obstruct your view, and the floodgates from above will open wide. If it storms at night, I can hear roaring thunder and see flashes of lighting even from inside my hut. Those are the rare nights that I wish someone was sleeping near by, but they are still really amazing.

Laughter Is The Best Medicine - Nigeriens: The people in Niger have been so welcoming. Being white, I am definitely an attraction, but I can feel a very positive energy around me. Everyone here wants us to succeed and they are always willing to help us learn the native language and adjust to new cultural norms. Niger is primarily a Muslim country, so it is far more conservative than the U.S. There are very specific gender roles and there are specific forms of dress for both men and women that are considered appropriate.

Nigeriens love to laugh! And they love to laugh at you when you make mistakes. I find it all very hilarious. It never feels like they’re laughing at you, but rather with you. Plus, everyone knows I love making people laugh, so this is like a total ego booster for me.

I spent three days in a village with a current Peace Corps Volunteer. The trip was meant to help those of us in training understand the what life as a Volunteer is truly like. I had a blast confusing the Volunteer’s villagers because I have short hair and I wear pants more often than skirts, but I wear earrings and have a girl’s name. This just didn’t compute for the villagers so they were constantly asking, “Wayboro wala alboro?” which means “Woman or man?” They were all very excited when they found out I was truly a woman because I have a girl’s name. So very amusing!

Assimilation – My Current Living Situation: Right now, I am living with a host family. I have my own hut and a small “yard.” My hut is about 10ft. in diameter with cement walls and a thatch roof. My host family consists of a mother and father, two brothers and two sisters. The youngest in the family is a nine-year-old boy and he is both my shadow and my bodyguard. Everyone in my host family, accept my host mom, can speak French so communicating hasn’t been too difficult. My host mom speaks only Zarma, so she and I can only greet each other in the local langue and otherwise communicate through gestures. However, I am slowly figuring out that she understands/knows much more French than she likes to admit. My host family is AWESOME! They have been so welcoming and take such great care of me. The kids love to play with me and be around me, but they are also very respectful of my space. Every Peace Corps Volunteer is given a Nigerien name. My host siblings gave me the name, Samira, which means “night friend” (haha! wink, wink!). I think Samira is a beautiful name and I love hearing the kids in the village call out to me as I walk down the road.

Dining in Niger – A Vegetarian’s Paradise: Dining in Niger is very different from in the states. Due to cultural and religious beliefs, there are very pronounced gender roles. Men are fed first and eat separately from the women/kids. In my family, I eat my meals with the eldest daughter. Everyone eats outside on mats on the ground with one dish for whomever is eating. My host sister and I help each other wash our hands – a ritual done before and after every meal – and then we eat with our hands from the same bowl/plate.

The food has been delicious – lots of rice, beans, cous-cous, noodles, millet, and simple sauces. I may have over exaggerated a bit when I said, “a vegetarian’s paradise,” as there isn’t much in the way of fresh veggies and fruits. But beyond that, it is very simple to maintain a vegetarian diet here. In fact, one could probably go vegan quite easily here if they so desired. I will be sticking to my vegetarian diet and trying to find the best dietary balance possible given the limited selection of food.

Breakfast here is probably my favorite meal. I usually head to the market in the morning and my favorite foods to purchase are solani (yogurt in a bag – otherwise known as “heaven in a bag”) and some fari masa (fried dough balls with sugar, much like a doughnut). So delicious!

Right Hand Good – Left Hand Bad: In Niger it is customary to use only the right hand when eating, giving or receiving money/goods, and when using any communal items (e.g. pepper, maggi (similar to soy sauce), etc.). Nigeriens do this because in Niger people generally do not use toilet paper. Nigeriens use the water method, which consists of using a butta (plastic tea pot) filled with water, pouring water into your left hand, wiping with your left hand, and then washing your hands with soap and water from the butta. To eat, you grab a small handful of food, ball it up in your hand, and then bring it to your mouth (a task I have yet to perfect – I make such a mess).

My Arch Nemesis - The Latrine: Using the latrine is both awful and comical. My current latrine is a 4ft. x 4ft. enclosed area with a hole in the middle. The hole is about 3in. in diameter – a small target by any standards. I have to fully remove my pants, underwear, etc. and squat over this hole. Aiming, as I’m sure most women know, is no easy task so I sort of have to have a pivot foot and shift around to hit my mark – hence the comedy. The awful part about using the latrine is the cockroaches and flies. The cockroaches are only a problem at night, so I try to avoid using the latrine after dark. Everything is an adventure here.

Washing Away the Sand - Bucket Baths: Who knew that taking a bath with a bucket of water could be so relaxing? Seriously, I love taking bucket baths and now that my hair is so short, I can easily wash from head to toe with ¾ of a bucket of water. I either take a bath first thing in the morning or just before sunset when the flies have gone and the roaches are still in hiding. I won’t lie, I often miss the convenience of running water, but it’s incredible how clean you can get with a bucket of water, a cup, and a washcloth. One evening, I was taking a bath while listening to Michael Jackson blaring from a neighboring concession and watching lighting bursts in the sky as a storm approached. It was a beautiful and bizarre mixture of Africa and home!

My Stage – 44 Instant Friends: My stage (pronounced “st-ah-je”) is the group of people I came to Niger with. There are currently 46 of us from all over the U.S. My stage is amazing! We are an incredibly cohesive group and there is such a positive energy among us. I have made a couple of really great friends and can’t wait to experience the next two years of service with them. The Peace Corps is a pretty serious business, but we get to have some serious fun now and then ;)

The Daily Grind - Training: Right now, I spend my days at the Peace Corps training site here in Niger. In Zarma, it is called Ton de Bon, which means “on the hill.” The site is pretty big and has all of the following amenities: running water, toilets, a cafeteria, a kitchen, an infirmary, sleeping quarters, classroom huts, and places for sports and recreation. During the day, I have a full schedule of classes in language (French at the moment), safety and security, health (I am a human pin cushion…Tuesdays and Thursdays are shot days), cross-culture, and tech sessions (specific to my sector – education). Classes, especially language, get frustrating at times, but the Peace Corps is very good about pushing us to our limits, but never beyond. They make us leave our comfort zone regularly, but they never give us more than we can handle.

Zarma, Hausa, and French: Niger has a few different languages that are commonly used: French, Zarma, and Hausa. There are a few other languages as well, but these three are the most common. French is Primarily spoken among those who are educated. The two other languages, Zarma and Hausa, are used throughout the country, however Zarma is more commonly used in the west and Hausa in the east.

Due to my asthma, I will be placed at a post that is closer to the capitol of Niger in case there is a medical emergency. This means that I will be in a region in the western portion of the country, so I will be learning Zarma. Right now, I am still working on improving my French, which I have discovered is not nearly as good as I had thought it was. I’m hoping to hit the appropriate skill level in French soon so that I can start working on my Zarma!

Greetings are incredibly important in Zarma (and Hausa). When you see someone on the streets or when you go to their home, as a sign of respect and a means to embrace the social nature of Nigeriens, it is important to rattle off many of the Zarma greetings.

Here’s a quick lesson in Zarma:

Fofo = hello or thank you

N’goyya = a response to “fofo”

Kala ton ton = goodbye

Q: Mate ni kani? (How was your sleep?)

A: Bani samay walla. (I am in good health.) This essentially means “good” or “fine.”

Q: Mate gaham? (How is your health?)

A: Tali kulu si. (My health is good.)

Q: Mate farga? (How is your tiredness?)

A: Farga si no. (I have no tiredness.)

Q: Mate fu? (How is the family?)

A: Fu kulu samay. (The family is in good health.)

The BUGS! – Je n’aime pas les insectes!: Holy smokes! I have never seen bugs this large in my life! My first night in Niger, I had the pleasure of seeing the infamous Chariot Spider. Chariot Spiders are about the size of my hand, they’re skinny, sort of orange in color, and crazy fast. They were given the name Chariot Spider because it’s said that they team up scorpions, which are very slow creatures. The scorpion rides on the back of the Chariot Spider because it is fast and can get to it’s prey quickly. Once they reach their prey, the scorpion attacks the prey and the two insects feast together on their kill. I don’t know about you, but the idea of insects partnering with one another scares the buhjeebers out of me!

One day, I found one of the largest Daddy Long Leg-like spiders in my hut. I immediately turned around, ran out of my hut, and went straight to my host sisters. I told them there was a giant spider in my hut and the two of them jumped into action. The youngest of the two came with me into my hut so I could show her the spider while the eldest grabbed a flip-flop. I showed them the spider and younger sister took the flip-flop, smashed the spider, and then proceeded to scoop up its legs and take them outside of my hut. Thank goodness I have host siblings!

There are a boat load of flies right now and they are pretty darn annoying, but I am becoming more and more desensitized to them as the days pass. The mosquitoes are around, but with the use of bug sprays, it is fairly easy to keep them at bay. There are a ton of beetles, which don’t really bother me, but I still don’t want them near me.

And then there are the bed bugs. I have spent the last week and a half covered literally from head to toe in bed bug bites. To give you an idea of the density of these bites, let me just say that I had approximately 45 bites on one hand alone. That first week of having bed bugs was probably one of the most miserable weeks as far as being itchy, hot, and irritable goes. It hasn’t made me want to leave by any means, but boy did it make focusing during sessions difficult. I have finally stopped getting bites on a nightly basis and my current bites are starting to heal, so things are getting better.

Oh, and I can’t forget to mention the COCKROACHES! Once the sun goes down the roaches come out in droves. Those things are ridiculously creepy. There’s nothing like hanging out in your hut, trying to get some sleep when the weather doesn’t permit sleeping outside, and hearing the pitter-patter of little cockroach feet. There is something seriously wrong when a bug is so big that its feet can make noise! I’m learning to deal with many of the other bugs, but I don’t think I’ll ever be ok with spiders or roaches…blech!

“Ridin’ It Hot” - Bush Taxis: I don’t know how to begin to describe the bush taxis here in Niger. I guess the best place to start is by decribing the vehicle itself: typically, the bush taxis here are Toyota vans that look very similar to VW buses. There are about four rows of seats with two seats up front with the driver. Technically speaking, these vehicles should be able to safely and comfortably fit about 15 people including the driver. That being said, during my first bush taxi experience, about 25 of us (Nigeriens and Americans alike) were piled into the vehicle. And, I mean quite literally, piled. I must also mention that each bush taxi has a roof rack and on that roof rack one can pile anything from wood to matresses to sheep to bulls and so on. There is no limit to what or whom one can pile into or on top of these bush taxis. There’s nothing like a three hour drive in a bush taxi with chickens and goats at your feet, people packed in all around you, and angry bulls on the roof!

FYI, the phrase, “ridin’ it hot,” was coined because as volunteers in Niger, we often experience great bouts of diarrhea. Sometimes good old Mr. D doesn’t care that you have a three hour bush taxi ride ahead of you and he makes his presence known. So, when Mr. D rears his ugly head while your riding the bush taxi, you are indeed “ridin’ it hot.” Gross, I know, but this is my beautiful reality.

Funny Nigerien Anecdotes: So, one of my closest friends here has already achieved the appropriate skill level in French, so he has started studying Hausa as he will be placed in an eastern region of the country. He’s really good with languages and has picked up the Hausa rather quickly. In the mornings, we all get breakfast from the street vendors on the one paved road in our area. My friend enjoys a nice cup of tea in the morning and uses his newly learned Hausa to order his tea. A few days ago, during one of the language sessions, he finds out that unbeknownst to him, he has been ordering his tea without breastmilk. He meant to simply say he didn’t want milk in his tea, but instead was saying “babu no no,” which simply put means no breastmilk. I don’t think that story will ever cease to make me laugh!

Minimalism - What I Miss: I miss HUGS! I don’t get them enough here. I’m so used to greeting my friends and loved ones with a hug and/or a kiss on the cheek everytime I see them, but this is not the norm here. I try to hug my fellow trainees as much as possible while were at Ton de Bon, so I am not going completely without hugs.

I also miss snack foods. Access to snack foods is limited. You can get them in the capitol, but it is expensive and soon enough, I will no longer have easy access to the capitol city. But, until that time, I will try to stock up a bit so that I have some delicious snacks at my permanent site.

Staying Strong - Words of Wisdom: “If we do not offer ourselves to the unknown, our senses dull. Our world becomes small and we lose our sense of wonder. We pass our days in a routine that is both comfortable and limiting. We soon wake up to find we have lost our dreams in order to protect our days. Fear of the unknown and the lure of comfortable space will conspire to keep us from taking the chances we should take. But, if you take the chance, you will never regret the choice. To be sure, there will be moments of doubt…but as the pains of the moment come, so will they ever fade away. In the end, you will be so much richer, stronger, happier and so much the better person for having taken the risk and enduring the hardship. There will be nothing to compare to the insight you have gained.” –Author Unknown

Before I start, I should mention a couple of things about the content of this blog. First and foremost, in order to protect the safety and anonymity of both the Nigerien people and other Peace Corps Volunteers, I will not be using names or identifying any specific places. It is also important that I mention that the views and opinions expressed in this blog do not reflect those of the Peace Corps.