Because so much happened this month, and shorter posts, like smaller bites, are easier to digest?
November 17
Tabaski has been more or less what I expected-stress, awkward moments, kids clamoring, screaming in my face for candy, a moment I almost almost wanted to start to cry when I was being ordered to take a picture of the kids because the last volunteer always took pictures of them. But when frustration is about to bubble over like that, I know I need to step back, rest and/or eat, and consider how lucky I am and how much I have. If I were in France or America right now I would certainly not be so effortlessly welcomed into people’s homes, meals and celebrations. And as I’ve been running around making promises to everyone and then trying to keep them and stressing out about it all, I think: ‘Really, what a wonderful, if still annoying and aggravating problem to have-too many friends and invitations.’ Abdou Zekeiou peed on me today, the first such christening since I’ve been in Niger. Really I’m shocked it hadn’t happened sooner. I watched Majabiya and Fatila and Farida braid intestines. I ate liver and other organs. I looked good. All in a day’s work, right?
Today threw into sharp relief a phenomenon I’ve been living here. 2 fadas, on 1 road, where I play 2 roles: at Majabiya’s I’m one of the women, which yes I am grateful for! They’ll be my in, helpful and insightful, my much appreciated window into women’s realities here. I’m pretty sure I’ll never drink that third cup of tea with Solo, Balla (pronounced ‘Blah’) and Twalé (the guys). But then at Sani’s I’m one of the guys: I eat with them, drink tea with them, chat with them about marriage, etc., and I haven’t even met most of the women in their lives (I did meet Issa and Souleymane’s older sister today). I love them-what I originally characterized as the ‘creepy’ fada has become my favorite group of friends so far, where I feel most comfortable and most welcomed (a commentary on my true creeper nature perhaps?). It’s just so interesting how different my experiences are in spending time in the two settings, so near each other.
November 18
Day 2 of the salla. I ate head mead. Twice. ‘Akwai dadi!’ (‘It’s delicious!’) I went to Hamissou’s house and saw Paddy: is it so wrong if I was just a little disappointed he hadn’t yet been served up to some Nigerians? I held a 6 day old baby (the naming ceremony is tomorrow). I saw a deformed girl (“her mother gave birth to her like that/she came out that way”). I talked about how men here like to marry girls 10 years their junior. I ragged on the French. I ate more than enough food, and didn’t see everyone but made a good showing. I’m trying (not always successfully) not to stress about pleasing everyone and running out of money (I’ve got 4 milles, ≈$8 to throw a Thanksgiving party and not starve over the next 2 weeks). I’m reminded of Irene’s mantra: “It all works out when you let it.”
November 21
Today was gloriously incongruent: I spent it resting and reading a book about Jane Austen, imagining carriage rides through the English countryside to stately manors and townhouses. I finally left my house shortly before 4pm to watch traditional Nigerien wrestling, which was exciting and sexy (ripped-as-hell wrestlers without shirts? Hell YES!). Hopefully I’m ready for the week.
November 27
Did I forget to mention that an old man gave me 50 F CFA yesterday for my dowry? “I thought I’d at least be worth a mille!” I said. (1000 F CFA≈$2) I bought some kossai (fried beans) which I gave to Hamissou and ‘Mistah’ with my ‘dowry.’ Today I made ‘yakua’ (‘hibiscus’) sauce that turned out very edible which I served with rice to my neighbors, Amadou-Mussa, Bashir, the friendly old smiler (I don’t know his name!), etc. It was nice and overdue, and I can see it becoming a tradition-every so often cooking for the guys. I really like it, cooking for people. Next up is fada Sani. I don’t know if I’m up for another Mexican feast quite yet though. Soon. Today we talked about mermaids, and debated if they existed or not, because if djinns exist…there’s a mermaid named ‘Mami Wata’ they all know about, and whom I had them draw for me. They were divided on whether or not she had arms. We also discussed marriage, as Moutare and Issa aren’t married yet but are looking, and a group of young girls came to pick up some gum to give out to their friends to invite them to the wedding in a week.
They keep asking me how long I’ll be here, and conjecturing that I’ll stay for years and years. I know I just got here, and I’ve got to get through these 2 years before the next step can be considered and determined, but this place is pretty special—who knows but Allah? Never say never. The fact is I have been immensely enjoying myself so far, even as I stress about navigating social obligations and protocols. It’s ridiculous how these guys compare to the people I met in L’Isle sur la Sorgue-there’s no comparison. Niger may be the poorest country in the world, but they have a different kind of wealth—community, family, caring. People still give a shit about each other here.
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