Stew in a pumpkin!

I just finished reading Three Cups of Tea in my first month at post here in Niger and I was surprised at the similarities between Mortenson’s experiences in Pakistan and what I hope my work experiences will be here in Niger. While in Islamabad he’s oppressed by the heat (I feel ya’ there!), and being in a Muslim country, Islam is a part of every day of his life, from morning to night. Niger is a secular country, but 99.something% of the population is Muslim. Even though I live across the street from the big mosque in town, I only ever hear the early morning call to prayer (4:30-5am) if I’m already awake (which has happened a few times). Prayer rugs and prayer beads are everywhere, and people praying or washing themselves in preparation for prayer (ablutions!) is always going on. It threw me off when, while visiting a friend’s house, she excused herself to pray, right in front of me! I felt awkward and fell silent, but the kids around me kept babbling as usual. The people are friendly and welcoming, he drinks tea with them, he haggles and bargains and gets frustrated in the market, he goes to the tailor to have traditional clothing made, he stretches the local currency as far as it can go, girls are (supposed to be) really really sad on their wedding day…this is my life! Are we in Pakistan or Niger? There’s even Al-Queda here, present in the all-but-deserted borderlands, just like in Pakistan!

“I have seen,” she writes, “that community and a close relationship with the land can enrich human life beyond all comparison with material wealth or technological sophistication. I have learned that another way is possible.” – Helena Norberg-Hodge, Ancient Futures as quoted in Three Cups of Tea

“Haji Ali taught me to share three cups of tea, to slow down and make building relationships as important as building projects. He taught me that I had more to learn from the people I work with than I could ever hope to teach them.” – Greg Mortenson, Three Cups of Tea

The quotes above, especially the second one, are extremely applicable to my life. I’m learning so much from the Nigeriens I’ve met, about hospitality and what’s important in life, that I’m afraid at the end of 2 years when it’s added all up I’ll have gained and learned a lot more than I ever brought or imparted to them. We’ll see. If you’re wondering what my life is like, and these infrequent blog posts just aren’t doing it for you, pick up that book. I also just read Paul Theroux’s Dark Star Safari, in which he takes an overland trip from Cairo to Cape Town. There are some similarities (particularly when he’s in the hot dusty Muslim desert of Sudan, or scared for his life in a bush taxi), but all the countries he travels through are so different, it’s a reminder that Africa isn’t a country, it’s 54! He’s just a dirty old man sometimes, but some of the interactions he has with colorful people and the stories he hears are great. Potentially worth the read, if you’re into that kind of thing.

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A few weeks ago a dude was giving one of my friends in town ‘Jolie’ (a nickname, I don’t know what his real name is) a pedicure, on a mat on the street. He asked me how much it would cost in the states. I said $8-$35, and even $8 (4,000 F CFA) is an inconceivable small fortune here (he probably paid 100 F CFA, or about 20 cents).

A few days ago I picked up a complet (shirt and skirt outfit) from the tailor and was horrified—the fabric has a print of little Africa shapes and the tailor had sewed the outfit with the Africas upside down! Other than that the outfit is gorgeous, and fits way better than I would have expected for him not measuring me at all.

Watching Planet Earth with Nigeriens and we see grizzly bears. “What’s that? A dog?” which sounds just ridiculous, but then I think: ‘There are no bears in Africa—these guys have no point of reference for bears.

“McThousand” – how Hamissou says ‘Mike Tyson’

“fragrant woman” – how Alassan says ‘pregnant women’

October 16

What the fuck?! Shock, numbness, gradual (attempt at) acceptance of the unacceptable, the unexplainable, the unreasonable. “Stephanie Chance passed away.” Two 15-hour bus rides and one memorial service later and Tondi’s words that night still haunt me. It still seems unreal that I will never see Steph or hear her ever again, because she’s dead. Who left who? Did she leave us or did we leave her? Did she transcend or ascend or cross over to a higher plane/the next step? Or did she stop, forever frozen in our memories and hearts at age 26, an incomplete life lived, as the rest of us live another day after another day, marching forward into a shared history that Steph is no longer a part of? I guess it depends on your outlook. What do I think? I don’t know. One day she’s just a text away, more of a potential relationship than anything, although common ground was there, looking forward to Halloween and other future shared experiences, and the next she’s completely, irrevocably unavailable. We were told to expect to confront death here in Niger, poor Niger where the dirty hungry masses get sick or starve to death all the time, where sanitation is sub-par and almost every family seems to have lost at least one kid. But how were we supposed to steel ourselves for THIS? A happy healthy one-of-us young American, with access to medicine and comprehensive health care that Nigeriens just don’t have—unforeseeable, unconceivable, unforgivable. We still don't know how she died, which is what it is. It seems to have been natural and hopefully painless. I miss her and think of her constantly. She will be an inspiration to me throughout my service here. I am not here just to ‘get through it,’ I’m here to do my best at making a difference, help as much as I can with my own two hands, passionately throw myself into the work, because why else would I bother? I need to take full advantage of every moment, every opportunity, live 100% at 100mph because if I’m not doing that, what’s the point? A life lived or a life wasted? All we have is here and now. Perspective. If I take anything away from Niger, it will be that. What’s important? What’s not? What can be lived without? (lots of things, even toilet paper) What can’t be lived without? (human connections, love, touch)

October 18

Living here is so humbling. People take joy in the simplest pleasures—being together, sweet little songs, inside jokes. They want to develop, and they deserve to, no more or less than we, and really what am I doing here? I don’t have tractors or printers and even though I know those aren’t sustainable solutions I’m wondering what I CAN do that will matter at all, and not just be for my own sake? They know their predicament, their situation, that their standard of living is low. I’m where I need to be for me right now, that much is clear. But am I where I need to be for others/people/the world? Solo said tonight that after 2 years here I’ll be able to run for mayor, I’ll be so popular. We’ll see! Seeing how people live here I feel like such a pig with all the electricity and water I suck up for only one person, and if I’m worried about my carbon footprint here…

I tasted PlumpyNut today. Not that bad. Kind of like peanut butter. I guess my friend Majabiya confused me for a malnourished African baby (how flattering!). I also ate 3 crickets. We don’t eat crickets in the US because we don’t have to: we’ve never needed to look away from our McDonald’s hamburgers for just any old source of protein that hopped by. When the cricket sellers come by the house and Majabiya buys some I wonder how much of the purchase is made because she’s legitimately hankering for some crickets and how much is because she wants to help someone who’s making a living selling crickets for crying out loud!

October 22

What were my crazy feverish dreams last night? One featured drag queens (Rocky, Dau, John Kim, heyyyyy-eeyyyyy!) and me at a Shari’s, glittered out at 6 in the morning after a wild night, ordering gooey greasy breakfast foods and drinking shots out of small tin cups—sour cream, salsa, cheese, Mexican spices, all the fixin’s, and vodka. Disgusting, or brilliant? It was basically all the things I miss most living in a Muslim country: out gays, pork products, alcohol, Mexican food, debauchery from the night before. Throw in Kucha, my mom, some close girlfriends (Alisha, Hannah, Megan, Mara hey hey!) and the scene of everything I miss from home would be complete! What a party that would be…let’s make this a reality sometime fall 2012! In the meantime, someone get on this ‘taco shot’ idea and let me know how it turns out!

Another dreamic episode played out like a movie: Sandra Bullock, on loan from the Monterey Bay Aquarium to some research station on the East Coast (let’s say Atlanta), making preparations for her next big experiment: to get impregnated by an octopus (how???? More to the point, why???). Tom Cruise goes the 20 feet from lab to tank to retrieve the octopus but loses it down a sewer drain on the way back, effectively ruining Sandy’s career (oh Tom!). She’s pissed of course, refuses to speak to him, and her girlfriends take her out for cocktails and ice cream to make her feel better. And probably pizza. This script NEEDS to be written immediately and sent to some Hollywood fatcat producers, no?

(later that day)

I’ve got Britney Spears’ “You want a piece of me?” running through my head right now. Emerging from my deathbed (okay, maybe that’s a little too diva dramatic, but still) to be berated left and right for not being around. It was great shopping with Hadiza in the market, and it’s great that I’m so welcomed at Majabiya’s, but am I a commodity to them, the oddity as friend? Life is work here and work is life. Especially in the first 3 month period everything I do, everyone I talk to is my work. When work and life are one and the same, how do you find balance? Is this what being famous is like? Cue the Britney…

October 24

Today was glorious. Emily, an RPCV back in Niger working for an NGO that builds pumps in towns and Windsong, an RPCV visiting Emily came to my town with the design of walking a few kilometers out to a little village where a PCV was posted in their day. They invited me along and I’m so glad I went. The walk out was hot but beautiful. The Lion King soundtrack was playing in my head as we walked through orchards and gardens that Emily said will be much prettier in a few months time, when it will be transformed into a Cabbage Kingdom. I can’t wait! I was enchanted. The little village was on a crest overlooking a valley. The family we were visiting (the host family of the volunteer who lived there a few years ago) was so nice and they served the best Nigerien meal I’ve eaten yet: corn tuwo with a to-die-for hibiscus sauce that I need to learn how to make (that and the peanut-buttery cucumber salad that Ousmane’s family served us have been my favorite dishes so far).

Halloween.

We made stew in a pumpkin!, (stew cooked and served in an actual pumpkin!), a recipe I got out of a cookbook my godmother Irene sent me. We also made Spicy Pineapple Zucchini Bread with pumpkin instead of zucchini. Delicious. A fall feast. I was Snooki from the Jersey Shore, and we had Daisy Duke, Elton John, a sexy gypsy, a sexy Indian princess, Lady Gaga, Prince of Persia and a chola. We danced our little hearts out. We ate a ‘proper’ French apple tart courtesy of Audrey. We celebrated the big important holiday of Halloween—my Nigerien friends are convinced it’s a big deal. My fault. Them: “Do you get the day off from work?” Me: “Uh, no. We give candy to kids.” Them: “That’s funny, because the Hausa word for candy is halawa. The fete de Halawa!” Me: “Huh.”

My birthday’s coming up in a few days. The big 2-5! A quarter of a century down, 3 more to go. My plan is to take cupcakes, cookies, and movies to Majabiya’s house—instant party! “Hey bitches, it’s my birthday! Let’s celebrate!” They will probably be a little confused, as birthdays aren't a big deal here ('I was born in '85 or '86, I'm not sure' they'll say), but it will be awesome!