January 21, 2012

I must apologize for my lengthy absence from sharing my stories. Whenever the mood has struck me to write, I haven’t, and then the reflections are lost. So what’s been missed – In-service training (two weeks of training in the capital), Christmas and New Years were spent in my village (still waiting on Christmas packages of which I’ve received: 0), and my birthday, where I learned that when it’s your birthday in Burkina Faso (I think it’s a French thing) you’re supposed to tell everyone, invite them out, and then (and here’s the kicker) pay for everything! This tradition came as quite the shock to me!

Now I find myself quite busy (in Peace Corps terms anyways). In additions to the activities I’ve previously written about, I’m tutoring three times a week, having English club twice a week, taking Lobiri language lessons twice a week, planning a soccer tournament for girls, planning and executing World AIDS day (a month and a half late), starting a girls club and writing a grant.

All of these activities bring about unique challenges and blessings, but what I’d like to focus on today are the challenges associated with tutoring. I tutor 3 levels within the equivalent of 6th grade, a low-level class for kids that have a really hard time reading (or can’t read) and have trouble with basic math, like subtraction); a low-level math class for kids needing help with basic math (we’re currently working in multiplication and division); and a mid-level reading class.

Now you may be thinking that the challenge is how to teach kids to read in French and do math in a completely different way than I was taught, but while these are certainly challenges, what has been most on my mind lately is kids dropping out of school and if and how I can help them. After the holiday break, four of my low-level students have dropped out of school. One lives in a village that is quite a distance away and is the only one from the village going to school, another has decided he doesn’t want to go anymore, another’s father decided he was done, and the fourth one I’m still trying to figure out. Obviously my first response is to get them back in school ASAP, but upon giving it more thought, I’m wondering if that’s really what’s best for them.

Let me give you a little background. All four students are on the older side for the class (14 and 15), they have all repeated this grade once already, and they are all very poor at both reading and math. By encouraging them to return to school, am I being a helpful and positive role model, or am I setting them up for failure. If I’m being honest with myself, I know that most likely none of these students will pass the grade this year. I don’t want to give up on them, but I don’t want to set them up for heartbreak either. What is right and wrong here? Is there even a right or wrong answer?

November 7, 2011

Barka de Salla! Another year has gone by marked by the celebration of the Muslim holiday of Tabaski. What change a year can bring. I am now living in a different country and in a community of predominately Christians, rather than a community of 99% Muslims. Similar to Christmas in the states, everyone here, regardless of religion, pretty much celebrates Tabaski (hey, you get the day off). What I find interesting is how the celebration occurs. In Niger, the Muslims don’t drink alcohol, but in Burkina that’s apparently how you celebrate Tabaski (at least when you’re with a group of non-Muslims). Because Tabaski isn’t really celebrated in my village, I was planning to take it easy that day, but when I was invited to attend a fete in the next town over, I thought it would be good to go (especially since many of my village’s most prominent people were in the group). I imagined that we would be going to someone’s house to celebrate with them. Nope. Going to the fete meant going bar hopping. Quite bizarre.

Tabaski also marks the anniversary of the death of my friend Malika in Niger. My thoughts are with her and her family (my family in Niger).

November 12, 2011

Education in Burkina Faso is such a weird thing. First of all, the fact that it’s a privilege to go to school – even primary school! It amazes me when I walk around my village in the middle of the day and find children of all ages working and playing. Is it that they don’t want to go to school? Nope. OK, certainly for some that’s the case, but more often than not, these kids are not attending school because their families cannot afford to send them. The cost of tuition each year is 1 million CFA – roughly US$2. Some of these kids are so smart too! It breaks my heart to think that they are not going to school because of such a small amount of money- the cost of a notebook in the states. Of course, there is a larger financial picture, the cost of supplies (which is minimal), as well as the cost of lost income – but what price can you put on the stunted potential of these kids?

Once the kids get in the classroom, the situation becomes marginally better. I say this because the kids are more motivated than the teachers much of the time (which is not what I consider to be a great learning environment). Often teachers don’t show up or don’t actively involve the class in learning (not to mention the corporal punishment).

I am very lucky to work with a man who is quite possibly the most motivated teacher in Burkina Faso. He is truly dedicated to the success of his students. He works tirelessly to help them understand the information they need to move on to the next level of their education. I don’t know if this is the case in all classes, but I believe the students sense this and really strive to do their best. Whenever the teacher asks a question, nearly every hand in the class goes up. It’s a classroom, where it’s OK to ask “why”. This might sound insignificant, but the education system here is more about memorization than actual understanding.

Yesterday I sat with the class while the teacher was in a training session in the next town over. It was amazing, with no adult supervision, the students not only did their assignments (and behaved while doing them), but then corrected them as a class – with full class participation! I shudder to think of a 6th grade classroom in the states when the teacher leaves for five minutes – let alone all day! The students in school truly WANT to learn, I just wish they had more and better opportunities for success.

September 17, 2011

Je suis triste. I am sad. I mentioned before that I wasn’t looking forward to leaving my host family, but now that the time is here, I just plain don’t like it. My host mom (who is only 2 years older than me) says that she won’t let me leave without a signed demand from the Peace Corps. I feel so loved and welcomed. How can I leave them now??? The family is threatening to send their two year old daughter, Grace with me because they don’t want to hear the constant “Eye-in, Eye-in” as she calls for me, and the second youngest daughter Giselle is planning on packing herself in one of my bags and coming along with me. I’ve stayed with several host families in my past travels, but never have I been placed in a family that felt so much like home (in fact, i was counting down the days to leave the other families).

I leave the training site for a week in Ouaga at 9:00am tomorrow morning. If I feel this way now, I can’t imagine how I’m going to feel in the morning, when as a family, we will carry my (heavy) bags to the training center for my departure - the opposite actions of just three months ago (although, at that time I was terrified).

To the Douamba Family, I will never be able to thank you enough. You welcomed me into not just your home, but your family. I will visit you again in the future, but a visit will never be long enough. Merci beaucoup to each and every one of you. I will carry you with me throughout all of my Burkina travels –and beyond.

September 28, 2011

Well, I’m finally at site! I arrived yesterday, so today was my first full day here. While washing my clothes, four young kids came to say hello. And by “hello” I mean that they sat silently and watched me wash my laundry. When I was done, I told them that I need to go take a shower and that I would see them later. To me, this meant, it’s time to go now. Apparently to them, it meant it was time to stand outside my door and call to me.

I spent the remainder of my morning walking through tall corn stalks to each of my neighbor’s houses to greet them and introduce myself. All the reactions were overwhelmingly positive, but it is even clearer to me now how it important it will be for me to learn Lobiri as soon as possible – as well as improve my French.

This afternoon, I was once again visited by some of my young friends (I must admit to missing the gate I had in Niger). As I sat there talking with them, I realized just how sheltered I had become while living with my host family. In many ways I forgot the conditions that many people live in here. The children were dirty, had open sores, ring worm, a foot infection, etc. Flies hovered around and followed the children. In town I’ve seen many conditions that are very rarely seen in the west. How could I have forgotten about all this? I wish I was a medical professional so that I could treat their wounds and change their filthy bandages.

Tomorrow morning I will start my day by observing – and possibly helping, in the maternity ward of the local clinic. Since it will be a market day (held every 5 days), women from throughout the area will come to town to have their babies weighed and to monitor their pregnancies. I’m looking forward to getting back to work!

Update: My new address (for the next 2 years):

Alynn Woodson

BP 54

Gaoua, Burkina Faso

West Africa

(If you’ve sent something to the other address, don’t worry, I’ll still get it).

Talk to you soon!

P.S. How have I been here for nearly two days and still not have a cat?

September 29, 2011

OK, I may or may not have just agreed to meet my counterpart at 7 am tomorrow morning to ride 10+ km to give out polio vaccinations. I’m really looking forward to it, but I REALLY hope someone shows up with a car!

Turns out getting back to work really was like old times – I was the first to arrive and I waited over an hour until anything happened. But during that time I had the opportunity to sit under a beautiful tree and meet people as they came to the clinic. I just may make that part of my regular routine.

Weighing babies in Burkina is definitely different from weighing babies in Niger. For one, we were actually inside a room and not outside with the scale hanging from a tree. But what hit me most were the fat babies! Of all the babies we saw today (25-30 maybe), only ONE was malnourished! What a phenomenal difference!

September 30, 2011

Today was a good day. Things started out a little rough due to some language miscommunications, but in the end I vaccinated 80+ children against polio – and met a lot of the community at the same time. Rather than traveling to the outlying villages, Armelle and I walked the fields of Perigban. From one house to another we wondered down small paths through corn fields that dwarfed me in size. While it was everyday life for Armelle, it was a little magical for me. Exhausting and hot, but wonderful. We covered one side of the road today, so tomorrow we’ll do it all again on the other side!

After lunch, I went by the CSPS (the clinic) to see what was going on. I was given the biggest compliment, when the head nurse (there are no doctors), told me that they had discussed it, and they don’t think I should work with the schools, that I should only work with them. If only they knew how much I’d love that (no offense to the schools). I spent the rest of the afternoon in the dispensaire helping to inventory all the supplies. It definitely helped me get a better picture of what medications/supplies are available to the community and how much everything costs.

To top everything off, I made myself delicious and healthy stir fry! Now I just need to find something sweet…

School starts on Monday, I can’t wait to see what it brings!

October 3, 2011

First scorpion found in my house – yikes!

October 12, 2011

Yet another hot, humid day here in Southwest Burkina Faso – I can’t wait for the rain! But to be honest, I would trade it all for a few hours of autumn in the Northeast! I miss the sights and smells – and of course – the tastes of fall!

OK, back to Burkina. Imagine what it would be like in the states if on the first day of school the teachers just didn’t show up. That’s what it’s like here. The kids either sit in their classroom doing nothing or else play in the courtyard – but the teachers are absent. Can you imagine the uproar of parents in the states if this were to happen? So, now we’re a week and a half into the school year – and it still happens! Of the six teachers at the school, two taught (and I must give them credit, they have been teaching consistently since the beginning of the year), one teacher decided to take a trip (without asking permission) and the rest sat at their desks under a tree drinking tea. All this while the students were completely unoccupied. It’s madness! And when I ask about it (to one of the teachers who HAS been teaching), I’m told that yes, it sucks, but that’s just the way it is. So frustrating!

October 26, 2011

It’s been a little while, so I thought I best write a little post. Things here are going pretty well – there are the daily ups and downs, but all in all things are good. My community continues to be wonderful to me. Since I last wrote I’ve found many more scorpions, bats, mice, roaches, ants, termites, spiders, etc. But more importantly, I’ve added a rambunctious, adorable kitten to my home! I hope in time he will take care of the rest of our visitors (I’m currently helping him hone is killer instincts). He is a little orange fluffball named Aminu (after my young neighbor in Niger). He’ll pounce on anything inside the house, but he’s terrified of the outside. Go figure.

I’ve started leading an English Club for my students. So far the turn-out has been great – over 60 students! Hopefully the trend will continue, but you really never know. Aside from the time I spend at the school, I’m continuing to help out at the medical clinic each week.

One thing that I find myself really missing recently is the sense of family and camaraderie from Niger. Each region was a family there; here, I hardly know anyone near me. It makes me a bit sad at times. It makes the hard times harder. I wish some of my friends were located closer to me.

October 29, 2011

Let me set the scene for you…It was a slow morning for me today, not because I didn’t have anywhere to be, but because I wasn’t feeling well and had a headache. Somewhat uncharacteristically for me here (although quite normal at home), I decided to lie down for a few minutes before leaving for the day. As I lay quietly in bed, Aminu decides to be a little terror, so I kick him out of the mosquito net. A few minutes later, I hear a noise like a plastic bag rustling around. I assume the sound is Aminu even though I can’t imagine what he’s playing with. The next minute I roll over and see Aminu staring at me, frozen with fear in his eyes…the sound continues. A bit freaked out now, I get out of bed only to find that – literally – thousands of ants have fallen through the ceiling!!!!!! I look up and see a line of several hundred more. I hate swarms! What’s worse, when I went into the kitchen to get the insecticide I saw that they were in there too!!!!! I need a cruise.

October 30, 2011

I knew I should’ve left for that cruise immediately. Believe it or not, the situation I described yesterday actually got worse. You see, I THOUGHT I had done a good job of cleaning up all of the evil ants – but I never considered one thing – that somehow, someway, they could get into my mosquito net. But alas, they can and they did. When I went to bed I was stung repeatedly. It was horrible! Cruise – now please!

September 10, 2011

I’m at an interesting crossroads today. I am at once sad to be leaving my host family, but at the same time, excited to be moving to my new site. Two events have led to these crossroads. First of all, I had the opportunity to visit my new site, and I was very happy with what I saw. Secondly, in one week I will be moving from my host site to Ouaga to prepare for swearing-in (finally!).

Let’s start with my site visit. My new site is located in a small village in the Southwest part of Burkina Faso, near the borders of both Ghana and Cote d’Ivoire. The population is about 3,ooo people, most of whom speak a language called Lobiri. It’s very green and lush, and the people were very welcoming. I believe I am either the 6th or 7th volunteer that this community has had, but only the second education volunteer. In the past they have had health volunteers. My house is located in the middle of a large field and surrounded by wild tomato plants. I can’t wait to add some additional trees and vegetables to the mix! The town has no electricity, so I’m now is search of a good solar charger for my computer and phone. Any recommendations?

One of the best parts of visiting my site was meeting my counterparts. My community counterpart, Armelle is very fiery and I’m excited to work with her. Just two years older than me, she works at the local medical clinic in the maternity ward (she IS the maternity ward), as well as owning a restaurant and being a single mother. This woman knows EVERYONE in town, and it seems to me that she is much respected in the community. My second counterpart is the Associate Director of the primary school. He is sweet and soft-spoken. All three of us were able to quickly form an easy and jovial relationship.

In three weeks, I will be permanently moving to site – I can’t wait! But moving to site means leaving my host family who I have become very close with. I know that I will visit them over the next couple of years, but still, the thought of not seeing them and joking around with them on a daily basis makes me a little sad.

I think that’s the news for the day. I’m sure there’ll be more to come as I prepare for swearing-in and relocating to my site.

Two quick announcements:

1. I won’t have a new address until the beginning of October, but you can use the address in Ouagadougou and I will still get anything you send (although maybe slightly delayed).

2. Cell phone reception at my site will be a little iffy until the cell phone tower is completed at the end of October, please be patient when you try to call or text me.

Until next time!

August 10, 2011

Wow! I can’t believe it’s been almost a month since I last posted. A lot has occurred in that time. In my last posting I talked about meeting my counterpart. Well, I am happy to report that he was a very sweet gentleman and we got along very well. Unfortunately, it turns out that the site I was slated to work in isn’t going to work out as expected. So, I have a new site! Now, instead of being in the north, in an area very similar to Niger, I will be living in the lush southwest part of the country near Ghana and Cote d’Ivoire and speaking a language called Lobiri. I hope to be able to visit the site sometime next month. I’ll give you an update then!

Otherwise things here are good. My host family is still absolutely wonderful, learning French is still a nightmare, etc. The last week and a half have been especially busy as every morning we have been participating in “model tutoring”. Basically, for a couple hours each day I work with a group of 9-11 years old on reading, math and life skills (hygiene, self-confidence, health, etc.). This is where knowing French would come in REALLY handy! Luckily, my wonderful partner Vida (also of Niger fame) has great French, so she has been invaluable to me. That said, from here on out, I tutor alone. Yikes!

One of the focuses of Peace Corps service in BF is a program called Camp G(2)LOW. Girls and Guys Leading our World. Over the last couple of days I had the opportunity to visit the camp and interact with some of the girls (The girls camp was this week, and the guys camp will be next week). It was a great experience – intimidating at first, but better when I got to work with the girls one-on-one. The camp included activities about building their future, health, and decision making as well as tie-dying and yoga. Fun, informative and diverse! While the camp had just started, it seemed like the girls were really enjoying themselves. I hope they are able to implement what they learn into their daily lives.

Now, I’m back at training. Lots more French, lots more tutoring – and hopefully some sleep thrown in. I must admit that PST x 2 is still pretty difficult at times. I’m beyond ready to be at my site already! Luckily, there are some very awesome people in my stage to hang out with (and commiserate with) in the meantime. What especially hard to think about, is that if I hadn’t been evacuated from Niger, I would be halfway done with my service by now. I’m happy to be here, but at the same time, very jealous of my friends who were able to transfer to another country directly and continue their service without interruption, rather than start all over again. It’s hard to think about that aspect of everything! Plus, I keep thinking I see my friend Hamza everywhere I look! I wish!

P.S. I’ll try to post some pictures to Facebook tomorrow!

July 18, 2011

I find myself sitting in a hotel room in Ouagadougou on the morning of meeting the person I will work closely with for the next two years. So many thoughts are running through my head. Will they like me? Will I like them? Wil we work well together? Do they speak any English? Will they be horrified with my French and lack of Moore? Is my dress to short? (A real concern as my tailor made my dress several inches shorter than I requested).

Part of this is no doubt the regular nerves you feel upon meeting a new boss, but I think a big part of me is afraid that since I had such a great relationship with my counterpart in Niger, perhaps I’ll get the other side of the coin this time around. Irrational? Perhaps, but that doesn’t give me any extra confidence.

Wish me luck…here I go!

P.S. I found great veggie lo-mein last night – expensive, but worth every penny – or CFA as the case may be! Thank you Restaurante de Chine!

June 19, 2011

Welcome to my first blog from Burkina Faso. I have been here for just over a week, and i’m currently enjoying a quiet morning at my homestay. While the family is at church I’ve decided to take some time to reflect upon my first week.

Upon meeting everyone for staging in Philadelphia I immediately noticed two things. The first was to be expected – on average, everyone is about 10-12 years younger than me, and the second – there are so many of us!!! Fifty in total, most of us are education volunteers, but some also work in the agricultural sector. Everyone is quite nice and I’ve already found several people that I find myself gravitating toward; people who I know will support me if/when needed.

While this experience has been radically different than my experience in Niger, so far it’s been pretty good. I feel extremely lucky to have my friends Vida and Lindsay, whom I served with in Niger, to help me through the process and really know what I’m going through.

For the last week we’ve been staying at a small retreat center in Ouagadougou (Wa-ga-doo-goo). There we had electricity, wifi and air conditioning – it was quite nice, but at the same time it didn’t feel like the West Africa I knew.

We came to the village of our Pre-Service Training on Friday afternoon, and I must admit to being utterly petrified. Living in a homestay situation is WAY outside my comfort zone! I just don’t like it! But alas, all of my fears have been relieved. My homestay family is drastically different than the one I was in in Niger. Where my first family was rather poor, with few resources, my current family has electricity, a refrigerator and a satellite dish. It’s crazy! My family consists of two very sweet parents, who laugh freely and show affection to each other and to the kids; there are three daughters, Arlette-12, Zuzelle-10, and Grace-24 months; and there are two sons, Abel (who they joking call my big brother at 18) and Ashille-14. Everyone is amazingly sweet and patient with me. I feel so very lucky!

July 7, 2011

I’m writing today from our training center outside of Ouaga. It’s been a trying and interesting couple of weeks, that has sadly brought the departure of 3 of my fellow stagiers. For multiple reasons, they decided that the US was the best place for them to be right now. While I wish them all well, we are certainly feeling the loss here.

July 9, 2011

Dark clouds are quickly rolling in, soon to be followed by a down-poor (I hope)!

The down-poor is here and it is wonderful! Several of my fellow stagiers and I are sitting around under a pavilion listen to the onslaught, staring with wonder at the rain.

It’s been a good day, lots of French, but it’s coming to me slowly and each day I get a little more confident. Our first language test is a week from today. It will decide if I continue to learn French for a few more weeks, or if I move on to learning the local language. I found out this week that I will be learning Moore, the language of the Mossi people. This coming Thursday I will find out where I will be living for the next two years, but based on the language, I am assuming that I will be living in the central area of the country.

July 11, 2011

Age is a funny thing. By most accounts I neither look, nor act like I’m thirty-five years old (however it is that we’re supposed to act), but at the same time, I feel the separation in age between myself and my cohorts on very nearly a daily basis. To start out with, not one of them has a decent appreciation for George Michael! As if that’s not inexcusable enough, most of my pop culture references fall on deaf ears. I actually had a friend tell me today that she didn’t like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off! As I ask myself what the world is coming to, I must also admit that I catch very few of their pop culture references - take from that what you’d like.

That being said, I really appreciate my cohorts and find it’s interesting how we can connect on many different levels. For example, while I may not have stories about being in college a few months ago; I am pleased to be able to play a part when the conversation turns to how much fun they had working with Habitat for Humanity during college. Many people were active with their campus chapters, while even more have made connections over Collegiate Challenge experiences. It’s amazing to me; how I could at once be so removed, while at the same time, have such a strong shared experience them. The day on which people were making connections to friends and family through Collegiate Challenge (“OMG! You went to New Orleans for Collegiate Challenge? So did my friend So-and-so!” “No way, you know So-and-so? We worked together every day on site!”), I must admit to feeling a certain amount of pride and accomplishment for the work I (and many, many others) have done to make Collegiate Challenge – and HFH Youth Programs, what they are today.

I love how while age can separate, it can also bring us together. Now I’m going to go pull out the crayons and color in one of the coloring books I brought for the kids until I can fall asleep! You’re never too old to color!

P.S. I have officially been in Burkina Faso for a month!

OK, the quick summary for those that don't know - Peace Corps was evacuated from Niger in January due to security concerns. It really, REALLY sucked!

Since that time I've been hanging out in Syracuse, NY and visiting friends.

I am happy to announce, that as of early June 2011, I will be reassigned to Burkina Faso for another 27-months!

On to new adventures...Stay tuned!

December 2, 2010

Being sick is no fun. No shocker there. The last couple of days I’ve been bombarded by flu symptoms (thanks to the flu shot which never fails to make me sick). I was able to rest (luckily it wasn’t too hot and I recently bought a fan), but what was most clear to me, was missing the comforts of home. And not even what you might think (toilet, tv, couch, drugstore, etc). As I regained my appetite, I missed being able to ask someone to go get me some french fries or any of the other foods I was craving (including oddly enough, pepperoni pizza yesterday - and yes, I am still vegetarian). It also hit me, that even if I didn’t have delivery service, at home I would at least have SOMETHING in the cupboard. Here, not so much. With no refrigeration you eat day to day. There’s no such thing as buying in bulk, and no pre-packaged foods (I would have killed for some Kraft Macaroni and Cheese).

I was lucky to have friends that I could ask to bring me something to eat (even if it wasn’t what I was craving), but still, I think I’ll hold off on being sick for the next couple of years.

December 3, 2010

OK, this observation is much broader than Niger, but something I’m feeling acutely here none the less. Have you ever noticed the striking commonalities between cats and children? At one moment they can be adorable and loving and in the blink of an eye they become beasts.

This week I brought home the hostel cat. Santi is a truly wonderful cat, who talks frequently and loves to cuddle. I thought we would be a great match. That first afternoon in Ville we talked and napped and had a great time. However, when I went out to run an errand, he took that as his opportunity to explore. Throughout the evening I called and called for his return (like I needed something else to make my neighbors think I was crazy), and finally, I saw his two white legs in the darkness. Santi had returned. Little did I know it was only to eat. That night, less than 12 hours after his arrival, Santi deserted me. I haven’t seen him since. What I have seen however, are several lizards poking at my garden, and last night, a mouse. He was supposed to be in charge of preventing/eliminating such visitors.

Everyone in Niger told me that adult male cats run away (when they haven‘t been fixed), but I guess I never really believed them, plus Santi had been at the hostel for a while without running away. Pretty much all I can say is - woe is me. Well that and I wish that Pacaya Jones was in Niger with me (FYI-she is very happily in Tacoma, WA).

Now on to children. Oy. So cute, so sweet, so endearing - and then BAM! Absolute monsters. How does that happen? I know that there is no mal-intent, but how do they believe that bad behavior will get me to give them everything they want, including my attention?

Each day, I come into contact with 20-30 neighborhood kids - my “regulars”. I adore them all, but I tell you, some of them can get obnoxious pretty quickly. At one moment we’re playing and laughing and at the next they’re throwing rocks at my door. What is that about? Do they honestly think that their behavior will lead to me opening said door to play with them? I think not! Keep in mind, this is just one example of this behavior. It’s a daily occurrence!

What to do, what do to? If you have any suggestions for either of these situations, please feel free to share them with me!

December 5, 2010

So I’ve been in a little rut lately increasingly frustrated with the objectification of well, me. I guess I miss being an actual person with thoughts and feelings - or at least being recognized as such. Women and children just stare at me (seriously, they knock on my door so that I will open it and they can stare at me) and men want to marry me for the mere fact that I am American and they think all Americans are extravagantly wealthy. Can’t someone just want me around because of who I am, not what I am?

December 6, 2010

The Sweetest Gift

Upon working at the hospital this morning I was exhausted and slightly downtrodden, plus - the tofu girl wasn’t where she usually was. I walked about wondering what I could eat when I noticed a boy waiting at the tree outside my door. This is not unusual, people wait to see me come home more often than I’d like. But this boy approached me and held out a small plastic bag and muttered something I couldn’t really understand. I was apprehensive, but I thought he said something about my friend Hamza, so I cautiously peeked in the bag. I let out a shocked-yelp as I saw the biggest blue-eyes on the tiniest little fluff ball of a kitten looking back up at me.

How am I ever supposed to leave the house now!!!! My new buddy (and hopefully killer of mice, lizards, etc). Now we just need to discover his name….

December 7, 2010

Happy New Year! Today is the first day of the Islamic year. I was walking around town today and noticed that almost all of the children were carrying around what looked like little magazines. As I sat and talked to my friends some kids came up with the magazines. It turns out they were Christian proselytizing materials from Nigeria (although they were in French which was slightly confusing since Nigeria is an English speaking country). There was one for younger children and then one each for older girls and older boys. Illiteracy is a huge problem here. The vast majority of recipients (and their parents) won’t understand anything but the pictures. I wonder how many children could have actually learned how to read with the money and effort that was put in to creating and distributing those materials. Perhaps there are other ways to “save” people.

December 8, 2010

Random Thoughts:

1. In a country where people die of very basic illnesses, why is every man I know here popping “enhancement” drugs like candy? I wish there was more focus on quality of health rather than quantity of children.

2. One of my neighbors is a little person. She is 17 years old, but I’ve noticed that she hangs out with kids her own size, rather than her own age. I find myself wondering if this is by choice or a societal decision. Sadly, she doesn’t go to school. I don’t know why this is, and when I ask she blushes, looks down and doesn’t answer.

December 9, 2010

I must admit, I’m really struggling today. Some days the poverty around me is much more dire and apparent than other days. Today is one of those days. The death, illness, malnutrition, lack of medical care, lack of housing, lack of education and illiteracy, lack of opportunity - it’s everywhere.

I’ve noticed that my neighbors haven’t been eating much lately; today I found out it was because they chose to pay for the medicine their daughter needed (who has since passed away) over buying food for the family. Now, another child in the family is sick and they can’t afford the 7 mille CFA (about $14) for the medicine. They probably wiped out what little savings they had with the last batch of medicine.

I am surrounded by, and immersed in poverty every minute of every day, but at the same time I know that the poverty I’m seeing, while some of the worst in the world, is a fraction of a percent of the poverty globally. I feel so helpless at times (including now).

I’m really struggling with how to resolve my life in America and my life and experiences here. Heck, I’m struggling to resolve my life HERE with the lives of those around me. I have so much semi-latent guilt. There’s so much I miss about my life in America - but I feel guilty about wanting to go out to dinner or buy a book. Everything in America just seems like a luxury. Why do I deserve those things, those daily activities, that we consider normal, when poverty is so pervasive. The money spent on those activities could save a life, if not improve one greatly. And those are just the basics, don’t even get me started on cruises. Is it wrong that I still want to go them? That I think about them almost daily even while surrounded by the poverty in Niger? What right do I have to escape when others do not.

I know that these observations and emotions are not new, but how do I go about finding a balance? Creating just justifications? Honestly, I can’t even begin to put it all into words. It’s killing me inside.

December 11, 2010

Dear UNICEF,

Thank you for your generous gift of Plumpy Nut nutrition supplement to the malnourished children of the world. Just one little thing - could you please start a campaign in Niger (and most likely everywhere else) informing people that Plumpy Nut is not supposed to be sold on the open market and that every packet of Plumpy they buy is literally taking it out of the hands of a malnourished child. A child who will remain malnourished because his/her parents decided it was more important to the family to use the Plumpy as a source of income, rather than feeding their child. Thanks so much!

Sincerely,

Alynn

In all seriousness, the amount of Plumpy Nut that is available on the open market is astounding to me. The only way for individuals to get Plumpy is to steal is from a medical facility or malnourished child. It kills me when every week I see children so tiny and know, that even though safeguards are in place, their parents are selling the Plumpy Nut rather than feeding them. It is equally infuriating when I have hospital staff ask me for Plumpy and co-workers and friends offer me some and tell me how delicious it is. Do people not understand the ramifications of Plumpy Nut being sold or do they just not care? I wish I had the language skills to have a meaningful conversation about it here.

October 26, 2010

Today was a busy day in Ville; the government was giving aid through flour distribution, while UNICEF was providing aid through powdered milk distribution. I met with the headmaster of a local school and then sat in on an English class. This was topped off by a wonderful meal of wake da shinkafa (rice and beans) made by my wonderful neighbors (I’m pretty sure they’re trying to fatten me up).

I am currently sitting inside the main room of the mairie, let me tell you what I see. Three parked motorcycles, a wheel barrel, a fan (sadly not working because the power is out), a couple of simple desks and several chairs in various forms of disarray, including the one I’m currently sitting on. It is a nice office chair, but whenever I attempt to move I am reminded about how where wheels once were, there are no more. I’m sitting here collecting my thoughts while drinking a cold soda (Pepsi sadly, but a generous gift from the mayor), and feeling somewhat guilty at the luxury of typing on my computer as a man plucks at a typewriting in the next room.

I’ve made several observations over the past week, so I’ll do my best to organize them in a readable way.

Disabilities and Poverty:

I’d like to talk a bit about mental and physical disabilities and how they relate to poverty in Niger. First, it’s important to note that Niger is a culture of begging. While it is not admired, it is not necessarily a frowned upon activity either. Meet people in the street (kids and adults) and they may ask you for a cadeau (gift). It’s just what’s done. Perhaps they are using Millard Fuller’s philosophy on fundraising - you never get anything you don’t as for, but I think it’s a bit more systematic than that.

Let’s add into this picture the many people in Niger with visual physical disabilities. Conditions that in wealthier countries would often not be seen because of better prenatal care and nutrition and medical “fixes” for many conditions. I can’t tell you the number of people I have seen without major areas of their bodies, or with major “deformities”. While I don’t have any first hand experience with this in Niger, I am amazed to see the kindness of family members as they carry those who can’t walk and lead those who cannot see. Bud from what I gather, these are the lucky ones.

Sadly, almost all of the people that I have seen with such conditions are begging for a living. Sometimes they are selling their goods to passersby, but more often than not, they are relying on the stark vision of their conditions to gain the sympathy of strangers and through such means collect enough money to eat for the day. I wonder what, if any, government or NGO programs are available for such individuals? I wonder what their lives must be like. But above all, I wonder about the people I don’t see. The people whose maladies keep them hidden. What happens to the people who’s family reject them or don’t have the means to take care of them? These questions are valid throughout the world, but in my opinion, more so in a country riddled with poverty, where the vast majority of the population are living day to day.

Education:

As I mentioned earlier, I sat in a class with 65 students this morning as they reviewed the past participle in the English language. Sixty-five students in a large, hot room. It was often hard to hear, but the students paid rapt attention and competed to answer questions by raising their hands, snapping their fingers and saying “me, sir“ (all done in one motion). It was obvious that the students were there to learn. The school I visited was a private high school and therefore much better equipped and conditioned than the public schools, where one is likely to find a room made of millet stalk. There was one thing they had in common however: a very small percentage of girls in attendance. In this class of 65, only 8 girls were present. In fact, this problem of (in my opinion) epidemic proportions, is evident throughout the developing world. In Niger, girls as young as 12 are often missing from the classroom because they have gotten married. Once a girl is married, she has responsibilities at home that take priority over schooling, namely, having babies and taking care of their husbands and families. Even if a girl is not married at such a young age, it is the goal for them to become married and since an education is not necessarily a top quality one is looking for in a wife, parents will often prefer their daughters to be making money or working the fields than in a classroom.

I hope to be able to work more on this issue over the next two years.

Text Messaging and Illiteracy:

As is true in many places throughout the world, text messaging is a huge method of communication in Niger (thank goodness, I can’t imagine life without it). What confuses me is how this practice coincides with the fact that only 27% of the population over age 15 is literate (only 8% of women). Currently, aside from Americans and Peace Corps staff, I primarily text with Nigeriens with a modest to high level of education. But in those circumstances when I’ve texted with individuals with less formal education (and with some of the better educated people as well), I have noticed that the writing is very much a mirror image of speaking. Words are spelled as they sound, and the breaks between words is haphazard or non-existent. Reading - or better yet, decoding, these messages can be extremely difficult. In fact, on one occasion I was so baffled at a message I received that I showed it to the person the next time I saw them and asked them what they wrote. They had no idea! And here I thought conveying sarcasm electronically was difficult!

I wonder if anyone is doing research on this phenomenon globally? I wonder if there is a way to utilize cell phones and text messaging as a tool for literacy? Man, if I could accomplish such a feat, I would be Peace Corps GOLD!

November 11, 2010

Bullying has been a hot topic in America as it relates it schools for a while now. I’ve now come to know this term in a whole new light. For a while I’ve been wondering if the attitude I have been perceiving from some local Nigeriens in Ville has been a series of cultural misunderstandings or a type of hazing, but a colleague coined it perfectly for me this morning as bullying. At 34 years old, I am being bullied by the teenagers of my Ville ( a select few, not everyone). I am the oddity, the one that sticks out, the foreigner, and the one that doesn’t speak the language (leading to not being able to defend myself). I must say here, that these instances of what I’m calling bullying have been few and far between, but they seem to hit especially hard and make a lasting impression.

I’m looking for ways to turn this situation around. Unfortunately, I believe the recipe for success is: one part time, one part courage, one part respect and 137 parts language learning. Well, either that or I either get married or start beating them - neither of which are in my plans. Only time will tell, I just hope that the pounding on my door at all hours of the night will cease rather quickly. One thing is definitely true, teenagers are teenagers wherever they are located and sometimes they just do stupid things.

November 15, 2010

My little girl is sick. I know that as a Peace Corps Volunteer I probably shouldn’t have favorite children in my community, but let’s face it, that’s an impossible thing to ask. My favorite little girl is the 6 year old daughter of my neighbor. Her name is Malika and she is full of fire and sweetness and a touch of mischief. In fact, she reminds me of my niece Madelyn quite a little bit. So, needless to say, I feel very close to this child (to the whole family really, they are my adopted family in Niger).

Last week, Malika came down with a fever, but then the next day she was back in the action - although admittedly, in a somewhat subdued state. The day after that, I caught her and the family as they were making their way back from the hospital. Her fever had returned with a vengeance. I went away this weekend and thought often of Malika, fretting about her health, while trying to assure myself I was overreacting. Sadly, I was not. I returned home yesterday afternoon to find Malika even sicker than when I left. Despite three shots from the doctor, her fever has not broken. I sat with her yesterday and listened to her labored breathing as she slept. First thing this morning I went back to check on her. This time, a new scene faced me. Inside the small room was Malika, surrounded by 15 women. Friends of the family, relatives, etc., all there to support Malika and her family. Malika’s state was terrifying. Her eyes were open, but rolled into the back of her head, her breathing was increasingly labored, her skin was burning up and her heart was beating rapidly.

This is my little girl, I wish there was more I could do to help! Anything really! Lacking anything else, I shall now go and sit with the family holding vigil for Malika’s health and hope for the best.

Later in the Day…

Very sadly, Malika passed away today. I was with her, holding her hand as she took her last breath and her heart stopped beating. This is truly a tragic loss. How do I go on? How do I treat tomorrow like just another day? The treatment of death in Niger is very different than in the United States. I am the only one crying my eyes out and showing emotion, everyone else is stone-faced - too used to death. I wish I knew how to console the family, what was culturally appropriate. I wish I knew how to console myself. I’ve reached out to friends and gotten tremendous support, but it’s still not the same as having someone here with me. I’m honestly a little lost. I can’t imagine my Ville without Malika. Without any member of that family.

November 19, 2010

Another hard day. I should mention that the Islamic world, including most of Niger, has been celebrating Tabaski over the past two days. It’s an interesting holiday, but one that I’m in no mood to talk about today. A). It revolves completely around animal slaughter and eating meat, and B). I am still very much distracted by the loss of Malika.

Today, for the first time since Malika’s death, I played with the kids. I constantly felt the absence of Malika and one specific act hit that message home more than any other. One girl kept coming up and holding my hand. All I could think about was how my hand belonged to Malika. She should be holding that hand (as she often did; she made it clear to the other kids that I was hers). I went so far as to think that the child was trying to usurp Malika. I’m sure that’s not the case, but still, it’s odd to me that none of the kids (except for her brother) even seem to recognize that she’s gone.

November 20, 2010

The cycle of life is certainly clear in Niger. I had a tough morning, so I made myself take a walk in the afternoon. I ended up at the market and sat with my friends for a while (a great group of guys that help me with my Hausa). One of them, Hamza, invited me to see his house and meet his family. We ended up at his next door neighbor’s house where a celebration was being held. I was quickly shooed in to meet the guest of honor, a brand new baby girl. It was a naming ceremony. Seven days after a baby is born a ceremony is held to announce the name of the baby and have it, Nana in this case - and the baby, blessed and welcomed into the community. Until this day, the baby’s name is kept a secret. Like most ceremonies and celebrations here, the men sat outside and the women congregated inside. I was given the child to hold, while the women made jokes about me and babies in Hausa. According to the people here I should have between 8 and 40 children. It’s a favorite topic of discussion around town.

As I stared down at Nana, I thought about Malika and how life can change so quickly. I hope she grows up to be a happy and healthy woman taking advantage of every opportunity that Malika will sadly never have.

November 22, 2010

I must admit that working at the hospital has begun to feel a bit like a chore (the newness has worn off), but today as I reported for duty I was informed that I would be working in a different area. A much more hopeful area as it turned out. Rather than working with malnourished children, I was “helping” in the prenatal department. I put helping in quotes because they totally didn’t need me there. Still, I was very grateful for the opportunity to see how this section of the hospital worked.

I was working in a room with two other women where pregnant women had their bellies measured and then were given an optional HIV test. I was in charge of recording the type of patient the woman was (basically putting a check where they told me). The categories of patient were: First visit before 9 months, First visit at 9 months, Intermediate visit, and Visit at 9 months. I was truly shocked how many women came in for the first time quite late in their pregnancies - including a couple women who could give birth any day.

I was quite impressed to see that the majority of women opted to have a HIV test, and that the tests were administered with new, sterile needles which were being disposed of (at least in the room) properly. I was disheartened though to see that the technician was not wearing gloves.

It was also quite eye-opening to see the young girls (today the youngest was 16), coming in for their first exam. They were so scared and unsure of themselves.

The whole experience made me wonder what inspired these women to come in when they did. If they were late in their term, did they not know about the service earlier? Is it word of mouth? Is there any type of peer pressure to either go, or not go, to the hospital during pregnancy or at a certain time during pregnancy? Today we saw about 50 women; what would encourage more women to come in for prenatal care? With the limited resources available at the hospital, would increased prenatal care have a significant affect on the healthy birth-rate in Ville?

A final note about the morning: As work started to wind down, one of the women started to play music on her phone. Everything from Michael Jackson to French and Hausa music. What I found most amusing however was the English-language Christian praise music. Knowing that the women were Muslim and did not speak English, I asked them if they knew the words they were singing along to. They didn’t, they just thought it sounded pretty. Crazy.

November 23, 2010

Today, I visited one of the local elementary schools. They are in desperate need of supplies. The school has 4 rooms (one for each level), all made out of millet stalk. There are no desks or books. It’s a wonder they learn anything at all.

During a break, I sat with many of the teachers at the middle school. I’ve visited them several times and many of them speak English so we’ve been able to develop a bit of a rapport. Today, the topic was me. Why am I vegetarian? Why am I not married (don’t I know how old I am), why don’t I have kids, etc. This discussion led to them creating a picture of my future. I am to marry a Nigerien man, preferably one of the teachers, (as is only wife) and take him back to America where we will have 4 children, two boys and two girls. They even went so far as to select names for the children - Sani Abdou, Patrick (I’m sure the irony is lost on no one), Fatima and Elizabeth. Of course once we are married I will start eating meat and become Muslim.

I told them that they were dreaming (on all counts). Their response - but what a great dream it is! Oy.

Truth be told, I get proposed toquite a lot. Pretty much every man (of every age) that I meet wants to marry me so that I can take them back to America. It astounds and appalls me what they think life is like in America. They refuse to believe that everyone doesn’t have ten cars and huge mansions and tons and tons of money. They believe only what they see on tv and in the movies. Imagine thinking all of America lived like the Real Housewives of New Jersey. It’s preposterous! I try to explain again and again that only a very small population of Americans live like that. That actually most people have nowhere near that amount of money; that many people have no money, no home and no food, but despite what I tell them, they don’t believe me. But, even if we aren’t all ridiculously wealthy, even the most meager savings in America, is a fortune to a Nigerien. It’s a hard thing to balance on a daily basis.

November 24, 2010

I recently mentioned that working at the hospital had been beginning to feel somewhat of a chore. Well this morning the revelation hit me. I haven’t wanted to go to the hospital since Malika’s death. I think part of me just can’t be around the malnourished and sick children for a couple weeks. Selfish, I know. But there are others to do the work, and I feel I need to heal more so that I can go back and be 100%. Hopefully

OK, so this whole blogging thing isn’t really working for me (as you may have noticed). But, I have started to compile a variety of anecdotes from my life in Niger. Stories and observations about how different life is here as compared to the US - and things that I think are just plain interesting. To respect privacy and to protect myself, throughout the observations my town is referred to as “Ville”.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

I’d been in Ville for one full day and today when I attended a community wide meeting held by the prefet. I was told I would be picked up for the meeting at 8:00. In actuality I was picked up closer to 10. The meeting was to be held at the primary school and as we entered the yard I saw 70-80 chairs set up under the shade of trees facing a table with 3 chairs. The table was adorned by a Nigerien flag and was obviously set up for the speakers of the day. About 1/3 of the chairs were filled with men all wearing their best bubus and caps. Surrounding the chairs were groups of men of varying ages talking with each other before the meeting began. As the car stopped, Souley, my SG, told me to go take a seat and that he would return shortly. I did as he said and took a seat toward the back. I was the lone white person and the lone woman. I greeted everyone, while feeling 50 sets of eyes on me. I definitely felt out of place. After a while however a group of women entered and adjourned a meeting on the ground behind the chairs. Every so often a joyous yelp or round of applause would come from the group and I would wish I knew what they were talking about. If I was a little bolder, perhaps I would have asked to join them. But I didn’t, I sat patiently as more and more men filled up the chairs. At one point I had hope that the meeting would start as one of the town elders got on his motorcycle and started yelling something to the crowd. At this point, more people took their seats. Finally, 2 ½ hours after the meeting was scheduled to begin, Souley, alongside the prefet, entered the schoolyard followed by a tour of armed soldiers. As they took their seats up front, everyone situated themselves around the schoolyard. Suddenly the chairs were full and the standing room around the chairs was overflowing. I felt as though I might cry as all of the women from the group in back approached me to greet and welcome me. Their joy in my presence was obvious, and it made me very proud to be there. The prefet called the meeting to order and for the next two hours, I, along with 100+ villagers strained to hear what the prefet is saying. In the end, I must admit that I did not hear nor understand much of the content of the meeting, but the experience was certainly surreal.

Saturday, September 2, 2010

Today I attended my first Ville council meeting at the mairie. Let me set the scene: Under a tree outside the mairie, 16 mismatched chairs (many still with the plastic covering the seats) are arranged in a semicircle facing a small desk and two chairs. The desk is once again adorned with a Nigerien flag. Slowly men, who I can only assume are leaders within their Ville communities, begin to arrive (this meeting only starts 30 minutes late). As this is happening one of the community leaders drives through the yard of the mayor’s office yelling “beep, beep”. A moment you certainly wouldn’t find in the US. Finally everyone has arrived. As the meeting on the importance and strategies of collecting taxes continues I survey the scene and notice that there are 30+ men there (I am the only woman) listening attentively. I’m surprised to see that very few are taking notes, but as I think about it, I realize that many of these men, these leaders, may very well be illiterate. When the chairs ran out they began sitting on the ground. It was nice to be at a meeting without the pomp and circumstance seen in the western world.

Sunday, September 3, 2010

I was very tired this morning and hesitant to go on a walk. But, knowing that the most important part of my job right now is to get out, be seen and meet people, I pushed myself to leave the house (what’s the point of being here otherwise). As soon as I stepped out my door I was glad I did. Here is just a little of what I experienced on my hour-long walk.

I learned that a popular kids game here is hopscotch. I even played with one group of kids for a while. It was great watching their laughter (and that two of them were wearing knit caps in the 90 degree + heat).

A man offered to kill an animal for me and was then mildly appalled when I explained to him that I don’t eat meat (we went through every conceivable type of meat). I had several good laughs with him and his friends.

As you walk towards the outskirts of town (toward the fields), it is obvious that the wealth of families diminishes greatly. Houses and huts are made of inferior materials and are falling down at a much quicker rate. At one house I was greeted by a woman who asked for every piece of clothing I had on. She even offered to pay me for some of it.

Most everyone was very interested in who I was and what I was doing here.

I talked to the elementary school teachers for a while which was nice. I met them the other day and they are dedicated to helping me learn Hausa. As I was heading home the principal of the secondary school stopped me. I met him upon my arrival as well and he told me that one of the problems in Ville is girls education. Girls get married at young ages and when they do, they stop going to school. When he stopped me this morning we once again talked about this problem and he expressed to me how important he thought it was and how dedicated he was to it. He promised that if I took the project on that he would do everything in his power to help. I told him that I was very interested in the project, but that it was too early to know what I would be focusing on first.

All in all, not too bad for an hour. I got a lot accomplished just by taking a walk!

October 4, 2010

A different kind of work day. As a new PCV I’m struggling to figure out the right balance of living and working in Ville. I’ve been told to expect to have a lot of downtime, but how much is a lot. I’ve also been told to leave the house each day, but again, how much time is enough. I don’t want to hide in my concession, but at the same time, I have no set destination. Having nowhere to be and nothing planned for the day, I started out by taking a walk through a part of Ville that I hadn’t seen before (this venture may take a while as Ville has 11,000 residents). I walked, I greeted, I even stepped into some concessions to introduce myself and say hello. Towards the end of my walk I came upon a group of kids playing hopscotch. They were at once thrilled by the oddity of me and appalled at my Hausa skills. After much laughter (directed at me, a common occurrence here) I asked the girls to help me with my Hausa (there were several teenagers there). I meant in general, but apparently they wanted to get right down to business. They started quizzing me on what things are called and asking me to name different amounts of money. It was intense. Good and fun, but intense. It’s those types of interactions that make my walks seem worthwhile, but when I get home and it’s only been an hour I’m still left wondering - is that enough? Am I doing enough?

During the time between 12 and 4 each day activities in the town slow down as people rest and retreat from the heat. Rather than stay inside my concession during this time (where I feel walled away from outside activity - a blessing at some times and a curse at others), I decided to move my chair outside of my concession and study Hausa along the road. This way, I would be doing a much needed activity, while still making myself available to the people of Ville. Let’s just say that the plan worked. For the first half hour whenever people walked by I would look up, smile and greet them. Occasionally this became a small conversation, but more often than not, it was a fleeting moment. Then, the children found me (I must admit, this was part of my plan all along). At first it was just 3 or 4 of the kids from the families on each side of my house, but soon the word got out. We laughed as I wrote down everyone’s name and characteristics to help me remember them until there were too many kids to continue. Soon we were just laughing (very little talking really) and having a good time. Before I knew it I was holding court for 25 kids! They thought it was the best thing ever when I started to play soccer with a box (hopefully I earned some street cred). Unlike in other African countries I’ve visited, they didn’t seem to know soccer, it was more like they were just kicking a box around, but perhaps they were just shy. By this time there was quite the commotion and adults started joining the laughter from the outskirts. It was all good fun, but in 90+ degree heat I soon got tired. I told the kids that I was going to continue my studies. No problem. I looked at my book as they all hovered inches from my chair. Yeah, not much studying got done. As I was attempting to study I noticed that many of the kids were trying to see the pages in my book. I went inside and got a placemat that I brought with a labeled world map on it. We spent quite a while identifying different countries and parts of the world. It saddened me to see that they didn’t know where Niger or any of their neighboring countries were. Thinking back, I wonder if they had ever heard of the countries I was asking them to find (India, China, Brazil, etc). After that, we looked through Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day. They liked the pictures, but were sad they couldn’t read the story. It looks like I’ll be translating it into Hausa soon. But again, is that enough? What’s play and what’s work?

Now here it is, 5:00, the time many would consider to be the end of the workday and I’m still left wondering, was that enough? Did I do enough today to start to integrate myself into the community. I certainly didn’t work anything close to 8-hours (as we define a workday in the US). What else could I be doing? What else should I be doing? (Note: I will have been here a week tomorrow. In training they told us that we might feel this way, but still, what if I’m the one person ACTUALLY not doing enough?

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Today was such an interesting day. I went to the mairie in the morning to grab a copy of the strategic plan. I ended up spending most of the day there. In addition to meeting with the mayor, the SG and reading through the first half of the strategic plan (in French); I met with an organization that does sensibilizations throughout Aguie. As the meeting was in French/Hausa (Frausa), I didn’t catch everything. But perhaps we’ll be able to partner on something in the future. What was most notable about the day was lunch. In the space of an hour all the hot topics were discussed. We debated about whether or not Barack Obama was a Muslim. They insisted that he was because his middle name is Hussein. We talked about why I was vegetarian (as they lunched on random bits and pieces of meat). I tried explaining my reasoning to them in Frausa, but when that didn’t work; I told them that my entire family was vegetarian. That did the trick as family is of the utmost importance here (sorry family!). We ended by talking about marriage and why I wasn’t married at the ancient age of 34. I left with several invitations for significant others in Ville. I’m working with a lively bunch of guys!

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

This morning I worked at the hospital weighing and measuring babies. The malnutrition rate in this area is desperately high and it was difficult seeing the personification of that. The babies were all so small, tiny little limbs and huge heads. Several of the babies were 18 to 24 months and weighed less than 6 kg. The malnutrition program at the hospital is sponsored by several NGOs and governments, including UNICEF which I have never been so proud to say I support. The babies generally stay in the program about 4 weeks. The goal is to have their weight increase by 15%. Every week the mothers bring their babies to be weighed and measured (length and arm circumference). This information is then charted and the appropriate about of Plumpy Nut, a 500 calorie, complete nutrition packet, is given to the family for the week. Out of all the babies I saw today, just one was “graduating” from the program. He looked great in comparison to the rest of the babies, but still very small compared to what we’d see in the US. I hope to continue to work with the program over the next couple of years.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

It’s been a rough week. Last week my friend and fellow PCV in Niger, Stephanie Chance, passed away. This left us all in sadness and shock and the resulting travel, while necessary and helpful, was exhausting. That being said, it’s good to be back home in Ville. It’s amazing how quickly a place can become “home”. But now I’ve officially put down roots - I planted carrots, tomatoes, zucchini and green peppers in my garden (and I started a compost!).

I had two events happen to me over the past couple of days that I’d like to write about, but I’m not sure what I want to say.

The first of these events happened yesterday at the market. After about an hour I noticed that a man had started to follow me. While it made me uncomfortable, he made no requests of me. I continued walking around until I decided to go sit with some friends. He promptly followed me there as well. It was at this time I was informed that he was mentally imbalanced (although I had a pretty strong suspicion before that point). Rather than yell at the man or treat him harshly, my friends asked him to leave me alone and let him be. While he hung on the outskirts of the conversation, he was again, not bothering anyone. When I was ready to leave and the man started to follow me again, a friend came up to him and kept him involved in the conversation, rather than having him follow me. It was a very gentle way of dealing with a problem that is often treated with disdain in America. But it certainly does lead me to wonder how mental illness is perceived and treated in general in Niger.

The second event occurred this morning as I was talking with my SG under the shade of a tree in the yard of the Mairie’s office. A man came up to us (but did not approach us) and started to doing somersaults (forwards and backwards) on the lawn. He proceeded to take off his clothes and continue this activity. My SG explained to me that the man was high on a drug similar to cocaine. I don’t know why, but I honestly never thought about the availability and use of hard drugs in Niger. People can’t afford the bare necessities, how can they afford to spend their money and waste their lives on drugs? Who is profiting off of this madness?

July 8, 2010

Well folks, I’ve made it to Niger and boy is it HOT! It was around 34 degrees today, which we were told was a “nice” day - not too hot. I thought I was escaping the humidity of the Northeast, but I was wrong. It’s hot and muggy during the rainy season (which has just begun). The trade off for this is worth it though- GREEN! Not like in the US, but green in the desert is good!

We were welcomed to Niamey as superstars, greeted outside the airport by current PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) hooting, hollering and cheering for each one of us. It was wonderful!

Here are a few pictures from my first week in Niger.

1. Our housing and mosquito nets

2. Getting henna

3. A view of Hamdallaye from the training center (on top of the hill)

Tomorrow is our first day of “training light” filled with interviews, tests and meetings, then on Saturday we will move from the training center to stay with our homestay families. This means we should know which local language we will be learning (Hausa or Zarma), this will give us some idea of where we’ll ultimately be placed.

I’m off to sleep now, the only thing between me and the stars is my mosquito net. Time to let the sounds of the area lull me to sleep…goats, donkeys, birds, insects…goodnight.

July 10, 2010

I am now in what will be my home for the next 11 weeks. I am in a homestay with a fellow PCT named Erin (also a vegetarian). We are living with a couple and their two children. I have been given the Hausa name “Zooera” after the 3 year old daughter. This is a customary tradition.

Here are some pictures of my temporary home.

1. The outside of our concession

2. Our hut

3. The family yard

I had my first Hausa language lesson today and between that and the evening in my homestay-I am completely lost!

We have tomorrow off and then the language lessons start for real. Hopefully my uptake will improve. Until next time…

July 17, 2010

I’ve been at my homestay for a week now. There have been many ups and downs and I’ve learned a lot (luckily some of it Hausa). It’s been a very busy week, full of language lessons, cultural activities and safety/health training. In addition to the many shots they keep giving me, yesterday they made me “lance” my finger to draw blood so that I could learn how to make a malaria test slide for myself. I have two things to say about this:

1. OW!

2. No thank you!

With only two more rabies shots I get to play with animals!

I have another super-full week ahead of me and then I’m off to “demystification” next week. I’ll let you know just how demystified I am next time!

DATE

Demyst was good. I stayed in the home of a volunteer named Teri that is currently wrapping up her two years of service. She will be heading back to the states after an extended trip around this side of the world. Everything was about what I expected - in fact, nicer than I expected. Teri has a large 3-room house with electricity for a few hours during the night. She was a great hostess and I enjoyed some great downtime.

July 30, 2010

Today we had the GAD Olympics (Gender and Development). I must say, my team kicked butt! The first activity was a relay race. With a “sand baby” strapped to our backs, we had to run to the water source, fill up a bucket of water and carry it on our heads as we ran through an obstacle course. We were judged on our speed and how much water we collected. (My team won).

We had to make peanut butter for the second activity. We had a mortar and pestle, a plate of peanuts and 20 minutes. (Again, my team won).

In the final activity we had to make traditional Nigerien tea (light the fire, etc). (We won).

As a prize for winning the Olympics we all received chocolate. It was the best prize ever!!!!!!

August 2, 2010

I have experienced something in Niger that I had hoped to never experience in my life. Yes, yesterday I discovered I had lice. What a mess. I spent the day disinfecting everything, washing my hair and sitting as my hair was combed out - inch by inch (thank you to my roommate Erin!) Unfortunately, I’m not convinced that that’s the end of it, but I sincerely hope it is!

Tomorrow we will be celebrating Nigerian Independence Day by planting trees. That’s the way the country officially celebrates the holiday-by helping to mitigate desertification.

August 15, 2010

It’s been a very busy week! Last Tuesday I found out where I’ll be permanently placed while in Niger. It’s a medium size town in the Maradi region. I’m scheduled to be there visiting this weekend, but do to some potential unsavory activity targeted at Westerners we’ve been placed on a “Standfast”. Basically, we’re on hold. In the meantime we’re in good spirits while hanging out at the training center, reading, playing volleyball and eating good food. Last night we even had a talent show. I did not perform, but everyone that did was excellent. This is a very, very funny group of people! So we wait. Tomorrow we will find out what our next step is (return to our homestay families? Go to our sites? Go directly to language immersion?). Until then, we are spending the afternoon at the American Rec Center in Niamey (aka - the pool). I was hoping to get online, but alas the wireless is down and therefore my posting will have to wait yet again.

The Muslim world is currently celebrating Ramadan by fasting from sun-up to sun-down. I’ve learned quite a lot about Islam since arriving in Niger. It’s a very interesting (and peaceful) religion. Several of my fellow Peace Corps trainees have decided to join the fasting in solidarity with their homestay families and for their own private reasons (this means not even having water during the day).

In my downtime, I’m fitting in a lot of reading, and from what I hear, I can expect to go through several books a month (there’s a lot of downtime - especially in the hot season). Just for fun, I’ve started a list of the books I’ve read while in-country (see the side bar). The Peace Corps hostels in each region have a pretty good selection of books in their libraries, so I anticipate it will be a pretty diverse list at the end of my 27 months. In addition to reading, I’m soliciting ideas for other projects I can do to enrich myself during this time. If you have any ideas, please send them my way!

I miss you all, stay well!

Alynn

August 16, 2010

I have some disappointing news. The standfast that I previously mentioned has been lifted, but our live-in has been cancelled just the same. Four people from my team will be living in my village/house during language immersion, but I won’t see my new home until installation in September.

September 1, 2010

Well, I’m fresh back from two weeks in a town called Gabi where I had Language Immersion. It was very hard (and hot), but hopefully my language skills are at least a little better now.

The best part of the whole experience (which was pretty harried), was on the 10-hour drive back. I was looking out the window and what do I see? GIRAFFES!!! As you may know, while giraffes used to be quite common in West Africa, due to human and environmental implications the population has dropped to dangerously low levels. The only remaining herd of wild giraffes is in Niger - and I saw them! It was wonderful!

This week we have a Supervisor’s Conference, so I will be able to meet my primary counterpart in Tchadoua.

July 7, 2010

Well folks, looks like the time has come. I'm at the Philadelphia airport with a little over two hours until my flight to Paris and then on to Niger!

Have a good few months!

alynn

June 27, 2010

Wow, the time has flown by. In just a few short days (on July 6th) I depart for my Peace Corps staging in Philadelphia, PA. The next day, I’m on my way with 34 other Peace Corps trainees to Niger.

I received some basic information about training and my first three months in Niger yesterday. Our training will primarily take place in Hamdallaye (Hamdy) which I’m told is about 45km from Niamey, the capital of Niger. We’ll spend the first couple of nights at the training center, and then we’re off to our individual homestays for the remainder of training.

I will not have internet or phone access while in training, so please don’t worry if you don’t hear anything from me until late September or later. There’s always the postal system though! If everything in training goes well and I pass the language and skills proficiency exams, I will be sworn in on September 24th and move on to my permanent assignment.

I’m not going to lie, it’s a stressful time trying to wrap up loose ends and get everything I need for my upcoming journey (translated: I’m not sleeping very well), but throughout this time, I am very thankful for the support of my friends and family.

I will keep you posted as I can. Next time you hear from me, it may be with three months worth of posts! Take care of yourselves and each other!

alynn

Hello everyone,

I know that many of you are interested in hearing about my Peace Corps experience over the next couple of years. While I will try my best to reach out to you all individually, with my limited access to the internet, I won't be able to reach out as much as I would like.

As a solution, I have created this blog to keep my friends and family informed on my life in Niger. If you're interested in tagging along for the ride, please sign up to follow my blog!

Thanks,

alynn