It's frickin' MAY already?!?!?

School Break

A few weeks ago we had a 2 week spring break between the terms at school. The first week I kept busy around my house, including going for a bike ride with my Deputy Head Teacher. The second week I traveled up north to visit Deborah for a night, one of my nearest neighbors, in Mwansambo, then continue on up to Mzuzu to see Esther! I also attended a Passover party which was fabulous. My first Passover, and it may be one of my favorite holidays yet. We ate a ton of good food, drank some delicious lemongrass-cinnamon and pineapple hooch, and learned a little bit about the history of the Jews in Egypt. There were about 20 volunteers and a bunch of Malawians hanging about. We sat on sleeping bags and mattresses, there were candles and songs...it felt like a cozy family affair. Parts of this country look like Hawaii. I saw baboons on the escarpment. I ate rice and beans at a rasta restaurant. I wondered where the hell I was every 5 seconds. Then Esther and I headed back to Mzuzu (and the Mzoozoozoo, a crazy hostel run by crusty old expats from Britain who remind me of my dad), and her site, which is beautiful. We're going to climb the big hill next to her site one day and camp on top. She had made banana hooch which was delicious. I need to get brewing! And then I headed home. It was a restful holiday, but that didn't mean I was ready for school to start again! And my school is getting all shaken up: my Deputy was promoted, so he's going to leave and be the Head teacher somewhere else. It's good for him, but I'm losing my bike ride buddy, my running partner (his son), and a handful of great girlfriends (his daughters). I'm a little bummed. We've gotten one new teacher and supposedly two more are on their way.

Neighbors!

I have two new 'site mates' (in Niger we just said 'closest neighbor'): Ellie and Erin. Ellie's 6 miles south of me and Erin's about 20k north. Ellie was in Niger, in the group that had just sworn in, so even though I didn't know her at all then, it's nice to have someone so close with whom to reminisce about Niger (and Morocco). Erin's awesome too, and they're both health volunteers so I'm looking forward to collaborating with them on projects in the future. AIDS activities? Murals? Girls Club activities? Bring it on!

AIDS!

A few weekends ago I biked 14k to Makioni (sounds like: macaroni) to see my friend Dave at work. He works for a faith-based HIV/AIDS consortium which does education outreach as well as helping HIV positive people (reminding them to take their meds, in-home care, teaching them skills and helping them get employment, etc. etc.). He and his youth were going to do an outreach at Makioni, but then it turned out nobody there had been told, and it hadn't been advertised, so they decided to bike back to Thavite and an impromptu program at my school. Dave had me get up in front of many of my students and 'say something about AIDS.' Put on the spot, I mumbled something about peer pressure and making your own decisions, and that it's good that we talk about this stuff. I was completely out of my element. Not very much was actually said about AIDS, but Dave did get a lot of hands raised when he asked who would get tested if he had a blood-testing event at the school. It got me really excited to collaborate with him somehow in the future, and serendipitously 2 days later I found myself at an HIV/AIDS training at Senga Bay (or 'Sengambe' as one of my students spelled it). The training turned out to be more of a feedback session for volunteers to voice what HIV/AIDS training and support we would like. The whole week was very inspiring to me: I want to start some sort of Girls Club at my school and start having conversations with my students and doing educational activities about HIV/AIDS, making good decisions, etc. etc. I even dreamed last night that I was educating my students about HIV/AIDS (the four fluids). Crazy.

Senga Bay is unbelievable. Gazing out at the lake, (because one doesn't just look at these things, one gazes), drink in hand, friends at my side, and nothing but beach and water in sight (and other lodges, Indians and bwana Malawians on vacation), I thought: 'Where the hell am I?' and 'Niger was nowhere near as beautiful as this.' It's unbelievable how close such luxury is to my site (less than 2 hours), where I'm volunteering to make the world a better place. In Niger we were so far from anything superfluous that it seems strange to me that beachside lodges and near-starving rural people can exist in such proximity. A lot of things seem strange. Like Africans farming tobacco and cotton. I keep thinking of American slaves as I drive by men stuffing cotton into bags, but at least these guys are free, whatever that means. Most of my students, no matter how intelligent they are (and really I can count those on one hand), are never going to go anywhere. They'll probably stay in the same district, and hopefully be able to eke out a living for themselves and their children, probably farming, and hopefully not die of AIDS. I found out that John (my watchman) absorbed two nieces and a nephew into his family when both their parents died of AIDS. That's tragically pretty common here. And hearing about Malawi's funding problems for ARVs, (they're going to stop getting them in 2 years because they weren't giving them out correctly), it makes me give thanks that I'm an American, even with our shitty health care system. (Forgive me, I've been out of the country for awhile...is it getting any better?)

I text my friends in Niger probably more than I should. I texted them the day we found out Osama Bin Laden had been killed, because I was curious what their reaction would be, and what the general sentiment would be in a Muslim nation. "Those who kill should be killed" my friend Sani said in a text. "Like all Americans the death of Bin Laden is a good thing for me because he killed a lot of people" said my friend Issa. I called Sani later, a few beers in, (3 minutes cost me 700 kwacha, but it was worth it), and maybe I shouldn't be clinging to these threads, texting and calling them, but the bonds I made, however brief, were special, and I'm going to go back to Matameye somehow, someday. Maybe I'll make up my own NGO, or just freelance develop, like Miriam does. I'll figure something out. Niger is just so wildly different from America, and Malawi...isn't. In Niger everyone was poor, everyone was in the same boat. Here there's a definite disconnect between the haves (still probably only 1% of the population) and the have-nots. I got a hitch from two bwana Malawians (air conditioning!?!), and I thought: 'you're as different from my villagers as I am.' People may have shirts now (before Malawi gained its independence they didn't, apparently), but they're not going to get much more than that any time soon, especially when British High Commissioners get kicked out.

Kalulu

Thursday I bought a rabbit from my neighbor for 500 kwacha (<$4). I let it hop around my house all night (well, it just stayed under my bed, but I did give it some bean leaves), and gave it to John (my watchman) the next morning to take home. The next day, Saturday, I went to his house to visit and we killed and ate the poor little thing! Its skin was shockingly white. Once the fur was ripped off, its tail wasn't fat, like I'd expected, but long and skinny, like a dogs. Its meat and organs were delicious. It's amazing how removed we can be from our food in America, and how the people here don't have that luxury. Getting the rabbit from cute living being to relish was no easy task. They killed it, ripped its fur off (after boiling it, so it would come off easier, but it still took awhile), cut it up, cleaned out its organs, cooked it...it took all morning. I knew that rabbit, and then I ate it. "Zikomo kalulu" (thank you rabbit), I said, and it made sense to me. The Native Americans had it right: take only what you need, when you need it, and give thanks to the animal and the Creator for providing you with a few bites of protein.

Disco

Two nights ago my school had a 'disco' (a dance). It was horrifying, which was to be expected. The boys were drinking sachets, which are shots of spirits in ketchup packets, basically. No joke. I heard they hit the states, and are being banned everywhere they turn up, of course. Can you imagine? Prom, college sporting events, concerts, political rallies, the nature of these events would change forever. These have the revolutionary potential of jello shots, or, or...bitch beer! Anyways, as you can imagine, the boys were out of control (and the ratio was about 4:1, by my hazy estimation, guys to girls). The generator wasn't working for a bit, but when it was I came to the conclusion (again) that Malawian music is shitty. Not as shitty as Hausa music, but shitty. Which is to say, there's a time and place for it (in a mini-bus, while you're waiting for a mini-bus at a trading centre, etc.), but it's never going to be my first choice when I want to get my groove on. Music is one of the clearest illustrations of cultural differences, in my experience. Play me some Chris Brown, Justin Bieber, Rihanna, Lil Wayne, Beyonce, Usher and I can't help myself: I have to dance. Play some Lucious Banda or Don Lu and I'm like huh? But they just went nuts. At first the little kids were kind of annoying (how scandalous could I get with them around?), but I soon saw their advantage. I kept Alan, my 5-year-old neighbor, close the whole night, and any time a creeper started creeping up on me, (the price was 50 kwacha for students and 60 kwacha for 'intruders' as they put it) I'd maneuver so Alan was between us. Shameless, I know, but at least Alan avoided being trampled out of the deal. Finally, I was tired, so Alan and I walked home in the moonlight, and thus ended my first and last Malawian disco.

Teaching

Teaching is...hard. To all the teachers out there, ntchito wabwino! Sannu da kokari! Good fucking work! Every so often I'll have a moment, or if I'm lucky, an entire 40-minute period where things just click and I feel inspired by what I'm teaching and somehow get the feeling that it's connecting to the students. Those moments are all too rare, however. Most of the time I'm frustrated: trying to think up ways other than straight lecturing to teach grammar, trying to get the students interested in the literature we're reading, whether it's decent (Looking for a Rain God) or so irrelevant, outdated and beyond their comprehension that it hardly seems worth it. In Form 1 we're reading An Introduction to English Literature, published in the '60's, with poems and excerpts from the likes of Dickens, Keats, Austen, Wordsworth...arguably great stuff, but come on! We're in Malawi here! I try not to get too discouraged by their writing and spelling. I started teaching them Hausa. This term I'm also teaching a period of PE. They kind of sucked at Capture the Flag (the concept of prison was lost on them). (Speaking of, any ideas for big group field games? I'm open). Education is where it's at, but if there aren't many universities, or the exams are arbitrary and inapplicable to real life, and the teachers are overworked and sometimes not even paid, then what chance do these kids really have?

The Princess of Thavite

Last weekend I felt like the princess of Thavite. Our MP (Member of Parliament) is putting on a sports tournament for all the schools in the area, so of course it had to be officially launched. I show up at my trading centre at 10:00am, the advertised start time, my first mistake. We're on Africa time here, Annette, duh! Loitering around with nothing to do is harder than it looks. I was antsy and aimless, but forced myself to stick around. I ended up chatting with some of my students, confirming that the tailor had my measurements, chatting with my landlord, and buying some rape (Chinese rape? What is it called in English?). Just when I was giving up and heading home to fix myself lunch, the MP pulled up. It was noon. So I stuck around. I watched a mini game of netball (cousin to basketball, that only girls play) and a game of football (until the ball popped). I sat next to the MP and chatted about oxcarts ("You haven't had those in America for awhile, have you?" he said. "No," I replied) and other things. He told me that Malawi has too many MPs (190-odd), and should cut back. If so much of the government's budget comes from foreign aid, Malawi could save Britain and the US money, or at least put it to better use, by reducing the number of MPs. Interesting, coming from him. Then Sally said the MPs just gave themselves raises. Huh. At one point during the football game the TA (Traditional Authority) rolled up. TAs are chiefs, who have some responsibilities and powers (ruling on local disputes) but are completely separate from the government. Come to find out, the TA for my area is a woman! For a moment I was sitting between her and the MP while they chatted about who knows what. Between the MP and the TA! What does that make me? I felt like royalty, and compared myself to British royals sitting around watching polo or cricket or tennis or some such nonsense, drinking mint juleps, socializing and maybe even squeezing in some official state business. Minus the mint juleps in my case. The MP said he wants to bring some of my students to the Parliament in Lilongwe and that I could come too. That would be so awesome! ...But if I've learned anything in Africa, it's not to hold my breath.

From here

Ellie and I started finishing (paradox) a mural begun by Brittany, the volunteer Ellie replaced. We're painting the Periodic Table of Elements at a secondary school near her town. It's got me excited to paint a mural or two at my school ("We want you to paint something here to remember you by" the Headteacher said). If I can figure out funding, I'm hoping to work on that over the summer. I also want to help with the camps Peace Corps Malawi has been putting on for awhile, Glow and Sky. And get a Girls Club going. I'm also reading like a fiend and trying to run and yoga as much as I can. I also just heard about some hot springs that are apparently just a bikeride away from my site, so I'm hoping to check those out soon! Life is good. It's weird how normal bush living is for me.

Cikin (pronounced "chicken") Niger

Since internet access is sporatic and fleeting, I've decided to copy some excerpts from my journal from over the past month or so. This is what I've been thinking, feeling and doing of late.

August 4th

I told Biiftu (my roommate in Hamdallaye) last night I'm having more downs here than I expected, but it's just the way it is. Nutrition is so fragile here, traditions are so different, I'm a fish out of water almost every second of every day.

August 5th

Heather is a godsend for her New Yorkers: they're like a Nalgene of water on a hot Nigerien day-a gulp of culture and civilization and an entirely different reality than what I'm living right now. Oh hell yeah. I'm going to ask Bawa tomorrow for a more 'liberal' post (relatively speaking), if possible, as the only consideration I'm concerned about. We'll see what happens.

August 11th

So much has happened, is happening. I just read an amazing article in the 'journeys' issue of The New Yorker about a National Geographic photographer in Algeria. The desert is a beautiful and poetic place, and I'm feeling so good about being here and going to my post. I'm so relieved! My placement sounds PERFECT for me, and I can't wait to get out there and see it and be in it! I'm sad that Will (my best friend in PST, pre-service training) is so far away, but it's hard to be sad when I'm so excited for my post. I'm riding a great high right now, but I know saying 'good-bye' or 'see you later' or 'a la prochaine' to him is going to be hard when it happens. It's another layer of challenge here. I've got two wonderful beautiful years here in this hot dusty edge-of-the-known, edge-of-the-cared-about wild and wooly place. Two years to continue Kira's projects, start my own, build relationships, see and do, struggle, learn about Islam, travel...

Hamdallaye (the training site) feels familiar, it's a different place to me than it was a few days ago, a few weeks ago. 'This Peace Corps thing' feels different than it did a few days or weeks ago. I'm reassured about my post and can't WAIT to see it, and Cindy. This is really real. Zinder region! It already feels like it's zooming by. A mosque at Ground Zero? What's the big deal? Who cares? Niger is going to change me. It already is. I push back, I resist. I give and accept. Hopefully I'll find a good balance. Between integration and individuality. Between men and women. Between Hausa and French. Between Kira's projects and my own. Between Nigeriens and PCVs and friends at home. Balance of life and work. Social, mental and physical health. Going and coming, being, doing, seeing, learning, sharing, reading, listening. This, Niger, my post, feels so good and right right now. I'm glad I went to France first. A baby step. I'm glad I've done and lived what I have up until now. I feel ready, excited, peaceful, smooth. I hope I feel like Kira does at the end-jealous of the next person...

The moon continues across the sky, waxing and waning, no matter how up or down, hot or cold, content or unsatisfied, anxious or at peace we are in our lives. That's a beautiful thing. Why do we (Americans) live so much of our lives inside? Disconnected from nature and the flow and rhythm of life. That is something I want to 'learn' or 'do' in Niger, if such things are possible.

August 13th (?)

We have an 'exciting' weekend at Bisa Doutchi (what we call the training site in Hamdallaye because it's on a hill and Bisa Doutchi literally means 'on top of the hill') ahead of us, as site visits have been postponed due to some sort of security issue in the Maradi region. I'm glad they're looking out for us, but sad it'll be that much longer until I get to see my village. Everything's attitude: if one were to look on this as a 2 year stretch of 'withouts' (e.g. without family and friends, internet access, comforts of home such as toilet paper, AC, etc. etc.) it could be a pretty long and trying experience. BUT, after reading that beautiful article in The New Yorker, I was reminded of how INCREDIBLE this is and can be. I'm in the desert, in nearly the middle of Africa, braving crazy weather and elements, conservative customs and even a strange language to help a little bit, learn a little bit, be a little bit. How many people get an opportunity like this, to explore the edge of 'civil'-ization, one's own limits in such an extreme environment, and maybe even the big questions of life in a simpler, pastoral, pittoresque setting? I could be even crazier, go even further, venture further off the beaten path...anything is possible. I dare myself to be more daring. I've been safe a lot in my life. Niger's pretty exciting, evidently, so I'll do this before I get to any of the next craziness.

August the next day

While frustrating to be at summer camp with other Americans and 'Friends' and 'Sex and the City' rather than at site (or en route), today has still managed to be excellent. Volleyball tournament, another New Yorker from Heather, food and pause snack all day long (we have a pause at 10:00am and 3:30 or 4:00pm where we get tea and food), and a truly impressive talent show, with some tea and cards inbetween made for a not-so-bad day at Bisa Doutchi. Lindsay and my rendition of 'Elephant Love Medley' earned us 'Most Hilarious' and Janice, Elise, Heather and Mariah were so sincere and sweet in sharing their talents. Tomorrow we've got a game of Capture the Flag planned, as well as running, boot camp a la Mason, and probably more yoga, possibly led by me. We're creatively filling our time and tonight at the dance party, (impromptu right after the talent show, of course) I really felt endeared and connected to this bunch of randos. Tondi thinks the talent show should be a mandatory scheduled activity for future stages, and I felt so impressed with those who shared of themselves so honestly, and like a cohesive group who was making the most of an unexpected standfast weekend at Bisa Doutchi. I thought about me as an individual, who signed up for this experience on my own, and now find myself with a hodgepodge group of people with different skills and talents, interests, hometowns, viewpoints and expectations for our time in Niger, but it works. The one main thing we all have in common is that we were crazy and masochistic enough to sign up for this and get on the plane. And soon it WILL be a largely individualistic endeavor (if we ever get out to our posts, that is!), so I'm working hard to downplay the disparities and glean as many good vibes, fun times, inspiration (Buddhist book and future discussion with Mackenzie!) and ridiculous memories (sitting on Mason while he recited a poem?!?) while this 'family' is stil all together.

August 16th

No site visit! A very hot day and stupid, practically pointless language activities are driving me to the edge. But, 'sai hankuri' ('have patience' in Hausa). This is a setback, the first big one, requiring patience and flexibility-a useful exercise in expecting the unexpected, in things not working out as planned. This is part of it, dirty clothes, lots of luggage, delays, dragging myself to language classes, working through difficult days. Life here is a balance, as I'm learning. I need to work on the cynicism/genuineness scale, as I tend too frequently to the former, as well as the pushing/pulling scale: when should I conform to cultural rules and when do I push back and stand my ground? Ramadan has been schooling me in this delicate dance. I'm so grateful for some of the other stagieres (trainees) with whom I can speak frankly, vent to, lean on, be snarky with and have inside jokes. It will be interesting to see the landscape of our stage by In-Service Training (in January)-if cliques still stand to some degree, if regions have gotten tight, if some friendships are as strong and special as ever...Erin and I are discussing fitness challenges (and other, e.g. cooking) that we can use to motivate us in our first 3 months alone at post. 'Alone'...I can't wait. But I won't really be: I'll have a whole town to get to know. As sexist, racist and xenophobic as the 60's Peace Corps book was, they had a genuine passion for their work and the people of Manta which resulted in a lot of concrete projects getting done during their service. Keeping the right scope and perspective will be a challenge-staying focused and realistic at post.

August 19th

Language Immersion is kicking our asses. Hmm, not true. Getting tossed out into Lisa's town without necessary equipment is throwing us for a loop. For the most part we're being good sports about it, looking on this as a really intense camping trip or just another test-are we really cut out for this? Can we really be here for the next 2 years? It's insane how fast I can go up and down here. Being mobbed by kids fighting over my hand as Lisa and I looked for Sprites in the heat of the day while on the verge of dehydration and didn't find them (Ramadannnn!!!!!) was definitely a low point. Going out later to buy rice, pasta, couscous and sugar and having exact change was so AWESOME! It sounds dumb but I was practically giddy. And then we made breakfast burritos for dinner. One tortilla vaguely looked like Africa and the 'insides' (onions, tomatos, hot peppers, tomato paste, eggs, 'cheese', various spices) looked like vomit but tasted so good! We all worked together and I felt so accomplished. Africa, throw your worst at me: bugs as big as my fist, no latrine for another day or so, going on my 3rd day without a shower, nosy kids, ridiculous heat, mosquito bites, no water filter, monsoon rains, puddles and mud and cars getting (almost) stuck, 12-hour cramped-as-hell busrides with hardly any stops and a woman sitting in the aisle next to me, across 'roads' which sometimes didn't merit that designation...BRING IT ON! We've decided on Madonna for our song competition entry and things are looking up. I wonder how everyone else is doing...all I know is that my Nigerien mantra stands: "If I can do this, I can do ANYTHING!" Stephanie pointed out today that it's been EXACTLY 6 weeks since we arrived in Niger and it's exactly 5 weeks until Swear In. Time is truly flying, so I must be having fun. But seriously, 6 weeks?!?!? The days are long but the weeks are blinks.

August 20th

We ate like kings today. Onions and garlic and tomatos and tomato paste and pasta for lunch; curry potatoes and squash and onion and coconut milk and couscous for dinner; coconut milk crepes and nutella and bananas for dessert! Lisa's lucky to have a cookbook handy, and I feel so competent and capable in the kitchen, though we did burn some of the couscous. I think I'll pull a Julie and Julia and get my grubby hands on a PCV Niger cookbook and work my way through all the recipes over the course of the next 2 years. WAY more hard core than Julie was! The heat is hard here: it's hard to concentrate in our Hausa classes but I need to. We just drank tea by the mosque with one of the Chef du Canton's 60 children...he's had maybe 8 wives in his life because when they die or get too old he gets another one, never having more than 4 at a time though, according to Islamic law. Amazing. I'm finding myself having a strange middle attitude when it comes to discussing the differences between Niger and America. FIrst of all it's difficult because America is never one thing: sure MOST families only have 2-3 kids, but there are always exceptions (the Duggars, for instance). Secondly, out of a tendency to avoid offending our hosts, and a tendency towards multicultural attitudes, I find myself agreeing with (at least outwardly) the 'Nigerien' way of life (e.g. multiple wives), and I'm shocked and appalled by Lisa's frankness (ha, Lisa Frank!) in regards to these things ("babu kyau" or "not cool!"). But I end up being shocked at my own complacency. Am I just a yes person? To what extent will I just go with the flow in order not to make waves? I guess that'll be teased out over the next 2 years...then I got all embarassed and demur when the mayor asked me whiy I didn't fast today...for some reason I didn't want to say the simplest answer, that I'm not Muslim. Probably because I didn't want to open a potentially hazardous conversation topic as a guest in Lisa's town and with so little Hausa under my belt. Hopefully I will become skilled in small talk and diffusing such situations. Cikin Hausa. Insha'Allah! I'm the dirtiest I've ever been in my life. Life is enhanced here. Emotions are magnified and I'm reminded every day in small ways that I'm alive, that I'm a human being on this planet. Sitting at tea, attempting to converse with Sani, Ilia, Konate, Lisa, Stephanie and Kimie I thought: I can do this. I can learn this language and have these conversations and forge these friendships and live this strange new communal life for the next 2 years. It's completely different than what I know-people don't retreat into their own homes, disparaging of human contact outside of work for an evening of mindnumbing television here. They sit together and talk together, about anything or nothing. They work hard as hell to accomplish basic daily tasks (like feeding, cleaning, caring for, washing, etc.) but look out for each other and get up in each others' business all the time. Every day is going to present new challenges but I'm still stoked on it all. I'm so privileged to have the time and knowhow and desire to write, this or anything, and I want to make sure I do. I wonder if there are any stories or writers in the Hausa language? I'm so fascinated by people I've met (the 93-year old Chef du Canton with 60 kids and 8 wives) or heard about (Konate's grandma lived to be 100) and I wonder if and how these stories are being told and/or shared. I wonder if there's some sort of project in this...

August 21st

The food we've been eating is so wonderful, and it's so wonderful to be preparing it for ourselves that I feel I need to chronicle all of our meals. This morning: oatmeal with peanuts, dried apricots, honey, cinnamon and dried cranberries. Lunch was just leftover snacks because it was too hot to move let alone cook. Dinner was prepared for us by Sani's wife and brought to our house: cornmeal and meat sauce. Little by little, this language will come. Discussions on development yield interesting results: is the work we'll do here futile? Peace Corps' been here for almost 50 years: has it done any good? Is 'sustainable' possible? What do I want to get out of this experience, and how can I make that happen? The weather is awe-inspiring, how insanely hot it can be in the afternoon and how gorgeous lightning in a cloud can be, and is. Captivating. I'm plugging into something real here, or I'm going to. Community, 'the simple life', humans' natural state, or closer to it than life in the United States. Is the crazy technologically advanced way of life in the US unnatural? Are humans living out our destiny, improving and evolving to a higher state, a better intimation of ourselves? Or are we foresaking some essential primal part of our being, becoming too comfortable and consequently losing out in some way? I can't think of a better way to meditate on this topic than to live in a hu in Africa for 2 years! And as hard as I push back against Islam (fasting? 4 wives?!?!?) I can't believe the mosque debate that's apparently raging at home. I would completely 100% be on the Islam side of that debate. Hello! I wonder how Nigeriens would react to the fact that this is an issue in the US.

August 22nd

This morning we went to a naming ceremony. I held the 1-week old doll-like baby and a woman offered me her baby (5 year old son, maybe it wasn't even hers) to take to America with me. I think. I barely understand any Hausa but it's getting better, little by little. It's hard to be motivated (the heat! the French!) here. But I feel great about being here. I was having good conversations with guys tonight while we drank tea. I'm reading a crazy book right now. That's all.

August 24th

Food! We had lentil 'burgers' with sweet potato fries tonight. Next time we need to let the lentils cook a little longer. Spaghetti and tomato sauce for lunch and falafel (!) last night in the most delicious (big and thick) tortillas I've made to date. Yesterday for lunch we had soup and bread (hot soup on a hot day = not my fave). The day before that we had the best egg sandwiches: egg, onion, Laughing Cow...mmm! Food is and will be a passion of mine here. Ironic because my choices are so limited here, and I just left the land o' plenty. If I can cook delicious meals here, I can cook anywhere!

August 25th

Weird things: arguably some of the poorest and hungriest people in the world fasting for a month to remember people who are poorer and hungrier than them, and to be grateful. WTF? Souley introducing Lisa and I to his 2 wives and multiple children. He grabbed what looked like a 9 year old girl by the shoulder and asked one of his wives: "Which one is this?" They've got a different relationship to death here. If you could have 2 wives, would you?

Today was hard. Tromping around the whole town in the heat of the day, getting dehydrated, I was in a bitter mood. I can get so ugly when I'm angry. It will pass, but today was hard, and helpful-but-in-the-way Nigeriens didn't help my mood. We made an AMAZING pizza for dinner though. I'm so impressed by myself in the kitchen, and I'm only going to get better. A life goal while I'm here. Get in shape, learn to cook, read a lot, fiction and non-fiction and periodicals-all these goals are so incongrous with my surroundings. It's hard to reconcile realities-that of Niger and that of the US, my reality and that of my neighbors' here in Niger-visiting the Chef du Canton's house (compound) today, it was so vivid how poor these people are, since his is probably the nicest house in the village and surrounding areas. He's local government yet his house is falling apart. And multiple wives-I really need to meditate on that. How do I respect my hosts and friends here while respecting/explaining my own point of view? What is my point of view, and why? Things get so topsy turvy turned around here. Two wives is bad. Because...do I have an answer for that? This is weird. It's a trip.

August 28th

Should I be more worried for the moment we're sent off to our posts? What will my daily activities be? Who will be my friends? Will I continue to think so much about what comes next (after Peace Corps)? I really need to just focus on being here, now. Learn and speak this crazy little language, in this dusty little country. I wonder what I will think about Niger and Nigeriens in...6 months. I'm walking the line between giving a shit and not being too hopeful about anything. We'll see how that changes as I get to know a town and the people who live in it. My post.

Sexy is dead here. I would LOVE to see an editorial fashion photo shoot done in Niger: slinky 'sexy' models dripping in haute couture surrounded by filth, poverty, children, cows, trash, mud,hard core Nigerien women pounding millet...like WTF? Such extremes, that some people have the money to go to the Louis Vuitton store on the Champs Elysee and drop a couple hundred euro for an unnecessary necessity like a wallet or a belt or a weekend bag, and some people want to have 20 kids because they plan on 10 dying. Fair? No. Fabulous? Fuck yes, grotesquely so.

September 1st

Yesterday everything became right again. Just sitting next to Will on the bus made me feel good. (Also he told me that the Irish Red Cross is in Zinder ville! I don't know how he found that out but I'm not questioning it)! So there's that. Then we watched a bunch of Glee and saw giraffes, the first ones I've seen here yet!!! They were so majestic and unexpected and unassuming and wild and so perfectly situated towards the end of a long day and a long journey (the whole of Language Immersion, really) that they portended nothing but good omens of good things to come. I'm still so blown away that last night we learned that Biiftu's post is our host family in Hamdallaye's hometown! Will and I will make it work, despite the distance.

September 3rd

We won the oreo cream pie that Jenelle made! I'll never be able to listen to Madonna's 'Holiday' in the same way again. For the next 2 years I'll never hear the end of 'Shakatawa! Babu layhee!' (roughly translates to 'Party! No problem!')

This is (sort of) a solo adventure. Meaning that I'm ready to get to my post and start figuring it out, no drama, no living on top of each other, no more LPIs (language proficiency tests) or mostly-stupid activities or sitting around watching movies because we don't know what else to do with ourselves. This was part of their plan: get us so sick of each other and being treated like we're 5 that we practically BOLT to our posts. Talking with Laouali (my supervisor) today I feel so excited and ready! I have project ideas and I'm ready to get out into the town and talk with people and have MY OWN TOWN! Does that sound selfish or lonesome or ridiculous? I think I'm exactly where they want me to be.

That's it for now. We Swear In (and become official volunteers) in less than 3 weeks!