An article of mine was published in the Dexter Leader a couple weeks ago. Here is a link to it:
http://www.heritage.com/articles/2009/11/25/dexter_leader/news/doc4b0ccdbe8ac7b169760598.txt
As you can see I have changed the title of my blog but not the site. It is nearly official that I will be heading out to Lido, Niger next week. Unfortunately, the amenities available in this village may preclude frequent postings, but I will do my best. Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.
-Thomas
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Happy Thanksgiving/My crazy life these past two weeks
Before you take another dig into those mashed potatoes and another whack at that turkey, here’s a little diversion to liven up another one of oh-so-nail-biting Lion’s Thanksgiving Day games and to take the edge of the tryptophene effect. Hold onto your seats, because if you don’t like rollercoasters you might want to let the turkey sit a little while longer.
The tenor of the Peace Corps rumor mill in any country never is one to lighten one’s heart - frequent stories of volunteers leaving for family reasons, folks getting flown around the continent for what Americans would consider routine dental care, and the always juicy geographically-doomed lovers. But as of late the tune has changed so rapidly and frequently that over a three-minute span last night I was asked by volunteers from three different regions if my cluster (sub-region) was being shipped off to a certain ironic isle off the coast of southern Africa (Ironic in the sense that it handed Niger ‘refugees’ from political instability less than 12 months ago and now a set of yet-to-be sworn-in volunteers are headed to that same country to re-open the program). I still must refer you to the travel warden page of the US Embassy in Niamey to tell you what started this whole hullabaloo.
Before we get any further in the story, let you take back to the moment it all began. It was an early Sunday afternoon, lazy as lazy can be, and I was approaching my weekly call with my parents. All of the sudden I was packing my backpack to head off to my sub-regional (cluster) capital: the security breach mentioned in the warden’s message (see my last post) had incurred the security measure that brings people to centrally-located houses to stay until the threat lessens (sorry for the vague language, but in case it happens again I shouldn’t reveal more). From what I remembered from training, this could only last a few nights as all Niger’s houses (called hostels) did not have adequate capacity for extended stays. After finding a car, playing cat-and-mouse on the phone with my parents and my PCV neighbor - also searching for a difficult-to-find midday ride down my dirt road - I ended up in said town with a change of clothes, my laptop and toiletries.
By midweek we were starting to go stir crazy. Running off of adrenaline and the rumor-mill, with and occasional dose of fact, the four of us were getting low on clean clothes, beer, food and patience. Luckily, one of our number belonged to the stage of volunteers whose close-of-service date (COS) was now being moved up to the soonest date possible. This meant for her tickets to reverse, grad apps to write, paperwork in Niamey to fill out, etc. A special car was sent out for us in the morning, by midday the COSer had said her goodbyes and taken her valuables out of her house in village, by early afternoon we were in Niamey, having gotten there twice as fast as any of us had ever remembered…I remember wondering if the tires could grip any harder onto the gravel and banging my head on a metal bar at every washout.
Fast-forward another five or six days, past an amazing Thanksgiving potluck which made many sick - myself violently so - daily doses of rumor and fact, new volunteers piling into town every day, and ever-mounting stress, and we arrive at ‘judgement day’. I guess I call it that in retrospect, as I assumed that on this eve of our potential re-departure for villages, that only those in the Tahoua/Konni region would be addressed in the Country Director’s lifting of precautionary restrictions. Unfortunately, in a stroke of Microsoft Word, the villages of mine and three other PCVs were gone in Peace Corps terms, our whole cluster shut down indefinitely, hostel included. A few other high-profile posts were also removed, the current training stage was erased, and my stagemates from one of the eastern regions began proposing a mass exodus out of this place. To make matters worse, two further security issues arose over the weekend and last night (I’m now writing on Friday) near the Mali border (look it up on BBC). With dozens of us in town, we could not help but to play off of each others pessimism about the weeks and months to come.
Now, with most of the PCV populace out of town, begins the long and drawn out search for a new village. It looks certain I will remain an volunteer, and an education volunteer as well, but it also looks likely that I will move to a new region, learn a new language, have new neighbors and a new set of working conditions. It may seem hard to take, but it is a chance at a do-over: to begin the integration process anew, drawing upon Larba and all its challenges and blessings. I hope this time to find a host family instead of falling back on the chief, to work harder to find friends my own age, to engage the movers and shakers of my town consistently and expectantly, to explore the new options on the NGO-front and work with my PCV neighbors (who won’t be COSers any time soon). Things are looking up, and even if PC Niger is living on borrowed time, I plan on making the most of every minute of it…even if those minutes may not come until January (or maybe February, considering my Inter-service training is slated for most of January) for Niger’s PCV refugees. For now I might play the tourist around Niamey a bit, hopefully find a good connection at the right time to get loads of photos up, work on the hostel and maybe even consolidate my French and English blogs into a whole new look (I might switch to Wordpress, but don’t tell Blogspot!), because “Along the Sirba” just doesn’t quite cut it anymore.
The tenor of the Peace Corps rumor mill in any country never is one to lighten one’s heart - frequent stories of volunteers leaving for family reasons, folks getting flown around the continent for what Americans would consider routine dental care, and the always juicy geographically-doomed lovers. But as of late the tune has changed so rapidly and frequently that over a three-minute span last night I was asked by volunteers from three different regions if my cluster (sub-region) was being shipped off to a certain ironic isle off the coast of southern Africa (Ironic in the sense that it handed Niger ‘refugees’ from political instability less than 12 months ago and now a set of yet-to-be sworn-in volunteers are headed to that same country to re-open the program). I still must refer you to the travel warden page of the US Embassy in Niamey to tell you what started this whole hullabaloo.
Before we get any further in the story, let you take back to the moment it all began. It was an early Sunday afternoon, lazy as lazy can be, and I was approaching my weekly call with my parents. All of the sudden I was packing my backpack to head off to my sub-regional (cluster) capital: the security breach mentioned in the warden’s message (see my last post) had incurred the security measure that brings people to centrally-located houses to stay until the threat lessens (sorry for the vague language, but in case it happens again I shouldn’t reveal more). From what I remembered from training, this could only last a few nights as all Niger’s houses (called hostels) did not have adequate capacity for extended stays. After finding a car, playing cat-and-mouse on the phone with my parents and my PCV neighbor - also searching for a difficult-to-find midday ride down my dirt road - I ended up in said town with a change of clothes, my laptop and toiletries.
By midweek we were starting to go stir crazy. Running off of adrenaline and the rumor-mill, with and occasional dose of fact, the four of us were getting low on clean clothes, beer, food and patience. Luckily, one of our number belonged to the stage of volunteers whose close-of-service date (COS) was now being moved up to the soonest date possible. This meant for her tickets to reverse, grad apps to write, paperwork in Niamey to fill out, etc. A special car was sent out for us in the morning, by midday the COSer had said her goodbyes and taken her valuables out of her house in village, by early afternoon we were in Niamey, having gotten there twice as fast as any of us had ever remembered…I remember wondering if the tires could grip any harder onto the gravel and banging my head on a metal bar at every washout.
Fast-forward another five or six days, past an amazing Thanksgiving potluck which made many sick - myself violently so - daily doses of rumor and fact, new volunteers piling into town every day, and ever-mounting stress, and we arrive at ‘judgement day’. I guess I call it that in retrospect, as I assumed that on this eve of our potential re-departure for villages, that only those in the Tahoua/Konni region would be addressed in the Country Director’s lifting of precautionary restrictions. Unfortunately, in a stroke of Microsoft Word, the villages of mine and three other PCVs were gone in Peace Corps terms, our whole cluster shut down indefinitely, hostel included. A few other high-profile posts were also removed, the current training stage was erased, and my stagemates from one of the eastern regions began proposing a mass exodus out of this place. To make matters worse, two further security issues arose over the weekend and last night (I’m now writing on Friday) near the Mali border (look it up on BBC). With dozens of us in town, we could not help but to play off of each others pessimism about the weeks and months to come.
Now, with most of the PCV populace out of town, begins the long and drawn out search for a new village. It looks certain I will remain an volunteer, and an education volunteer as well, but it also looks likely that I will move to a new region, learn a new language, have new neighbors and a new set of working conditions. It may seem hard to take, but it is a chance at a do-over: to begin the integration process anew, drawing upon Larba and all its challenges and blessings. I hope this time to find a host family instead of falling back on the chief, to work harder to find friends my own age, to engage the movers and shakers of my town consistently and expectantly, to explore the new options on the NGO-front and work with my PCV neighbors (who won’t be COSers any time soon). Things are looking up, and even if PC Niger is living on borrowed time, I plan on making the most of every minute of it…even if those minutes may not come until January (or maybe February, considering my Inter-service training is slated for most of January) for Niger’s PCV refugees. For now I might play the tourist around Niamey a bit, hopefully find a good connection at the right time to get loads of photos up, work on the hostel and maybe even consolidate my French and English blogs into a whole new look (I might switch to Wordpress, but don’t tell Blogspot!), because “Along the Sirba” just doesn’t quite cut it anymore.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Happy Halloween (Dated Oct. 30)
Hi everybody,
Happy eve of All Hallow’s Eve/Halloween. I’m back in Niamey after a couple more weeks in Larba Birno. While no earth-shattering events have taken place, I did get electricity installed in my house, which may as well count as earth shattering in my little world. I had bought the cable during my last trip to Niamey, not knowing what kind of cable or even how much of it I would need. A couple days later some guys from the village chief’s concession and down the street came over to hook it up. One had some outlets and light bulbs and fixtures, which I bought off him. They got straight to work walking across a few hut roofs, only to find out it wasn’t long enough for the house a few doors down, so they set to digging a trench across the road with a pick and spike. The one with the fixtures went about digging a hole in my house with a screwdriver, then using his teeth to peel the plastic off the wire to attach to the fixtures. I offered my scissors, nails and tape: the nails were driven into the clay/cement to keep the wire from falling down, the scissors replaced teeth and the tape tidied up parts of the cable where copper was disconnected or broken. While we had to hunt around for a few more meters of cable to finish the job, the bulk of the project took all of a half-hour with a half-dozen helpers and another dozen lookers-on. To call the whole operation a ‘jerry-rigging’ would be an understatement, it felt downright illegal - maybe it was the fact that I was hooking my line up to the chief’s across the street and paying for a chunk of his bill. On the other hand, such is the way of Niger…just reference my last blog post for a few more examples. Ironically I spent part of the operation helping some folks build a wall out of clay bricks and mud in the chief’s concession.
Classes have begun to pick up at the collège (middle school), and I have sat in on a couple different grades during different subjects. Needless to say, the differences between the American and Nigerien education system are striking. In American public schools, kids walk about in hallways and attend classes in air-conditioned classrooms with enough room for cabinets and desks and posters. Nigeriens sweat through classes and crowd three to a one-person bench. Yet at the same time, some American students, at least in the public schools I attended, were prone to giving teachers fits for talking in class, wearing inappropriate clothes, apathy and the like. In Niger, at least in Larba, students stand and recognize a teacher when he enters the room, wear uniforms (if they can afford them), and repeat answers memorized from the previous day’s lecture. All the same, American students stay motivated through a variety of classes and electives that suit their interests, after-school clubs, extra study help for those who need it, while Nigerien students have some of the lowest rates in the world in literacy, failure to make it into or past secondary school, and girls enrollment. As I may have mentioned in a previous blog, Niger has re-found itself in last place on the UN’s Human Development Index, education contributing a number of dismal figures to this composite study of societies across the globe. The reasons behind this poverty are multitudinous, many of which I may never fully understand. But once one understands that for a kid growing up in the bush, middle school may mean months separated from one’s family, learning languages and skills that most likely will never be applied in real life jobs, and association with mentors/ teachers who would rather be spending time at home in Niamey than in ‘the sticks.’ The somewhat supercilious attitude of the teachers, whose authoritative and somewhat distant teaching style has been a bit of a shock to the system, and has pushed me to create stronger and more productive relationships with my villagers, as it will be they who will sustain the projects I help to get off the ground. From the previous volunteers in Larba and other PCVs across the country, teachers rarely last more than a few years in a single town.
As I head out back out for the hot and humid month of November (yup, cold season won’t be here for a little while - they call it the ‘mini hot season’), I hope to learn more about what can improve the futures of the kids of Larba and neighboring towns; I counted students from 16 towns attending the CEG (collège), including Boulkagou, Touré, Chaptondé and Hanti Goura, estimated to be 40km away. In case I don’t get back into Niamey by Thanksgiving, Happy Turkey Day, ma y it be thankful day.
Happy eve of All Hallow’s Eve/Halloween. I’m back in Niamey after a couple more weeks in Larba Birno. While no earth-shattering events have taken place, I did get electricity installed in my house, which may as well count as earth shattering in my little world. I had bought the cable during my last trip to Niamey, not knowing what kind of cable or even how much of it I would need. A couple days later some guys from the village chief’s concession and down the street came over to hook it up. One had some outlets and light bulbs and fixtures, which I bought off him. They got straight to work walking across a few hut roofs, only to find out it wasn’t long enough for the house a few doors down, so they set to digging a trench across the road with a pick and spike. The one with the fixtures went about digging a hole in my house with a screwdriver, then using his teeth to peel the plastic off the wire to attach to the fixtures. I offered my scissors, nails and tape: the nails were driven into the clay/cement to keep the wire from falling down, the scissors replaced teeth and the tape tidied up parts of the cable where copper was disconnected or broken. While we had to hunt around for a few more meters of cable to finish the job, the bulk of the project took all of a half-hour with a half-dozen helpers and another dozen lookers-on. To call the whole operation a ‘jerry-rigging’ would be an understatement, it felt downright illegal - maybe it was the fact that I was hooking my line up to the chief’s across the street and paying for a chunk of his bill. On the other hand, such is the way of Niger…just reference my last blog post for a few more examples. Ironically I spent part of the operation helping some folks build a wall out of clay bricks and mud in the chief’s concession.
Classes have begun to pick up at the collège (middle school), and I have sat in on a couple different grades during different subjects. Needless to say, the differences between the American and Nigerien education system are striking. In American public schools, kids walk about in hallways and attend classes in air-conditioned classrooms with enough room for cabinets and desks and posters. Nigeriens sweat through classes and crowd three to a one-person bench. Yet at the same time, some American students, at least in the public schools I attended, were prone to giving teachers fits for talking in class, wearing inappropriate clothes, apathy and the like. In Niger, at least in Larba, students stand and recognize a teacher when he enters the room, wear uniforms (if they can afford them), and repeat answers memorized from the previous day’s lecture. All the same, American students stay motivated through a variety of classes and electives that suit their interests, after-school clubs, extra study help for those who need it, while Nigerien students have some of the lowest rates in the world in literacy, failure to make it into or past secondary school, and girls enrollment. As I may have mentioned in a previous blog, Niger has re-found itself in last place on the UN’s Human Development Index, education contributing a number of dismal figures to this composite study of societies across the globe. The reasons behind this poverty are multitudinous, many of which I may never fully understand. But once one understands that for a kid growing up in the bush, middle school may mean months separated from one’s family, learning languages and skills that most likely will never be applied in real life jobs, and association with mentors/ teachers who would rather be spending time at home in Niamey than in ‘the sticks.’ The somewhat supercilious attitude of the teachers, whose authoritative and somewhat distant teaching style has been a bit of a shock to the system, and has pushed me to create stronger and more productive relationships with my villagers, as it will be they who will sustain the projects I help to get off the ground. From the previous volunteers in Larba and other PCVs across the country, teachers rarely last more than a few years in a single town.
As I head out back out for the hot and humid month of November (yup, cold season won’t be here for a little while - they call it the ‘mini hot season’), I hope to learn more about what can improve the futures of the kids of Larba and neighboring towns; I counted students from 16 towns attending the CEG (collège), including Boulkagou, Touré, Chaptondé and Hanti Goura, estimated to be 40km away. In case I don’t get back into Niamey by Thanksgiving, Happy Turkey Day, ma y it be thankful day.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Countdown to T-day
Thanksgiving approaches, but here in Niamey we will celebrate it on Sunday. I may have mentioned that I didn't expect to spend Thanksgiving in Niamey. However, circumstances have changed (which I am not permitted to disclose at this time). As I will be in Niamey for the next little while here I hope to write a more complete posting once my future plans find a solid footing...for the time being I can only direct you to my superiors at the dept. of state: http://niamey.usembassy.gov/niger/warden_messages.html
Take care and talk to you soon,
Thomas
p.s. Look out for facebook photos and possibly on google picasa soon
Take care and talk to you soon,
Thomas
p.s. Look out for facebook photos and possibly on google picasa soon
Sunday, November 1, 2009
A few more pics
Hello everyone,
I have a blog post ready to go, right as I'm about to head back out to village from a Niamey Halloween. Unfortunately, it is not in the right format for this computer and yesterday I was unable to connect on my own computer. Here are a few pics to keep you busy...
-Thomas
Folks gathered at the central mosque for the end of Ramadan (my chief is in front at far right)
Our stage seated at the swearing-in ceremony at the Ambassador's residence
The Grand Mosque of Niamey, as seen from the road
PC personnel gathered at the Gotheye mayor's office for the installation of two PCV's in this commune (one of which is me).
I have a blog post ready to go, right as I'm about to head back out to village from a Niamey Halloween. Unfortunately, it is not in the right format for this computer and yesterday I was unable to connect on my own computer. Here are a few pics to keep you busy...
-Thomas
Folks gathered at the central mosque for the end of Ramadan (my chief is in front at far right)
Our stage seated at the swearing-in ceremony at the Ambassador's residence
The Grand Mosque of Niamey, as seen from the road
PC personnel gathered at the Gotheye mayor's office for the installation of two PCV's in this commune (one of which is me).Monday, October 19, 2009
A few more pics
I've been back in Niamey for the weekend and have to head back out today as the legislative elections get underway tomorrow. Here's a few pics from this past month, enjoy.
-Thomas
Sunset over the Sirba as it begins to dry up and leave these cool cliffs behind.
No touching up here- that's really how humid it is right now...don't worry hot and dry season is right around the corner.
At the primary school with the director and some of his kids.
Bathers, laundry washers and fishers using the Sirba for all it's worth. That line of sticks in the river act as a sort of cage for catching fish.
On a rocky (clay) outcropping overlooking my bend in the Sirba.
Sunsetting and shepherd boys holding up their beating sticks off to the right in a sign of defiance
Team Tillaberi for the CYE/MCD Stage of 2009-2011. Yay! We made it to swear-in!
-Thomas
Sunset over the Sirba as it begins to dry up and leave these cool cliffs behind.
No touching up here- that's really how humid it is right now...don't worry hot and dry season is right around the corner.
At the primary school with the director and some of his kids.
Bathers, laundry washers and fishers using the Sirba for all it's worth. That line of sticks in the river act as a sort of cage for catching fish.
On a rocky (clay) outcropping overlooking my bend in the Sirba.
Sunsetting and shepherd boys holding up their beating sticks off to the right in a sign of defiance
Team Tillaberi for the CYE/MCD Stage of 2009-2011. Yay! We made it to swear-in!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
So what makes Niger 'Niger' ?
Hi everybody,
It’s hard to believe it’s almost October and I’m sweating more than ever before! At least the days are getting a little shorter. I’m writing this blog entry on the last bits of battery left on my laptop in my village, Larba Birno, as I wait for my villagers to hook my house up to the village chief’s electricity across the street (when I don’t know, but I will be in Niamey after my first month is completed). I’m sure if I said they’ll ‘wire up my house’ you’d conjure up images of workers coming in digging trenches or putting up poles to carry the wires (plur.) across or under the street, installing a power meter, outlets, light fixtures, etc. I can’t say what the operation will look like, but it should be a whole lot more interesting than that. Which brings me to the topic I’d like to address in my few minutes here: ways in which Nigeriens and modernity interact that might befuddle, bemuse or bug your average American (I want to note them now before they become all to commonplace).
- One of my stagemates out east in Hausaland noted that during live-in her villagers were charging cellphones with car batteries (as their village has no electricity).
- Peanut butter is made on the spot and sold in used cans of tomato paste (only tomato paste, as that is one of the few canned things you can rely on in smaller towns) - although currently in Larba there are different types of peanuts along with peanut powder and peanut bricks (that look like dog food) but no peanut butter…Go figure…Motor oil/gas is sold in old gin bottles (but I’ve never seen those same gin bottles full of gin). Sweet peanuts are also sold in these same bottles.
-Despite the waste in ditches along side of major roads, Nigeriens throw little away that can be used. Many types of food come without packaging, but if there is any it is a small black or clear plastic baggie. These baggies hold everything from ice and cold water to fried millet cakes or cassava flour - anything that can go in these bags does, even if it doesn’t need it (like pre-wrapped tea bags).
-When I go out into my concession to burn my trash the omnipresent neighbors’ kids invariably tell me they want nearly every piece of it. I wonder what they want to do with old plastic applesauce cups, but I’m sure they’ve found some use…plastic from old sandal thongs can be used to soften the entry of a nail into brittle clay walls, old wire can be attached to a radio antenna to get a better signal, anything can be a toy!
-Transportation is always an adventure, and it is amazing to see cars that would have been sitting years in a US junkyard toting two or three times their intended capacity in, along and on top of the vehicle (on my slower dirt road bush taxis often have three young men ride standing up leaning on luggage stacking high above the van). Time is not of the essence - on one ride from Hamdy to Niamey (30k) on the ‘commuter bus’, the ride took a whopping two hours and change. No traffic, no break downs, and even the detours were not that bad…no, the driver stopped sometimes less than 100m from a previous to let one person from the middle of the bus off, at some of the larger stops the bus would turn off and both the front and rear of the school bus (style) would be loaded.
-One of the more elderly people in my town has a collection of photos from the last PCVs in Larba during the 1990’s. In one dated 1995 people are drinking tea using the same styles of tea sets and plastic cups sold throughout Niger to this today. Even the funky color schemes seem not to have changed - apparently they all come from a single factory in Niamey.
-While cell phones have come to Niger, even a tower in your town doesn’t mean that you can get through. Nonetheless, it is a recent tech. advance that has taken the country by storm: people often stop to answer phone calls while giving speeches during meetings - sometimes without leaving the premises. Teens will walk around blasting their music/ring tones/even videos as if it was a portable speaker. Cells are not unlike TV’s and radios, where it doesn’t matter if no one is listening to it, keep it blasting at full volume into the night!
-As you might imagine, all of this technology is imported…In a visit to the grocery store you might find one to five percent of products sold are from Niger (probably closer to one); much processed food comes from the EU, batteries and many other technological goods are from China, many cookies found on roadside stands are from India and Indonesia. And most everything seems to be imported directly by the seller - rarely does any local distributor find his name on a label.
-In terms of vocab, all such imported products, from buckets to shovels to electricity are taken from English, Hausa or French (sometimes interchangeably)…Yet I have counted at least four ways to say in the Zarma/Songhai of Larba Birno to say “in the bush” and a different description for millet at nearly every stage of maturation and in every form in which it is eaten.
Sorry, this post has gone on waaay to long,
Thomas
It’s hard to believe it’s almost October and I’m sweating more than ever before! At least the days are getting a little shorter. I’m writing this blog entry on the last bits of battery left on my laptop in my village, Larba Birno, as I wait for my villagers to hook my house up to the village chief’s electricity across the street (when I don’t know, but I will be in Niamey after my first month is completed). I’m sure if I said they’ll ‘wire up my house’ you’d conjure up images of workers coming in digging trenches or putting up poles to carry the wires (plur.) across or under the street, installing a power meter, outlets, light fixtures, etc. I can’t say what the operation will look like, but it should be a whole lot more interesting than that. Which brings me to the topic I’d like to address in my few minutes here: ways in which Nigeriens and modernity interact that might befuddle, bemuse or bug your average American (I want to note them now before they become all to commonplace).
- One of my stagemates out east in Hausaland noted that during live-in her villagers were charging cellphones with car batteries (as their village has no electricity).
- Peanut butter is made on the spot and sold in used cans of tomato paste (only tomato paste, as that is one of the few canned things you can rely on in smaller towns) - although currently in Larba there are different types of peanuts along with peanut powder and peanut bricks (that look like dog food) but no peanut butter…Go figure…Motor oil/gas is sold in old gin bottles (but I’ve never seen those same gin bottles full of gin). Sweet peanuts are also sold in these same bottles.
-Despite the waste in ditches along side of major roads, Nigeriens throw little away that can be used. Many types of food come without packaging, but if there is any it is a small black or clear plastic baggie. These baggies hold everything from ice and cold water to fried millet cakes or cassava flour - anything that can go in these bags does, even if it doesn’t need it (like pre-wrapped tea bags).
-When I go out into my concession to burn my trash the omnipresent neighbors’ kids invariably tell me they want nearly every piece of it. I wonder what they want to do with old plastic applesauce cups, but I’m sure they’ve found some use…plastic from old sandal thongs can be used to soften the entry of a nail into brittle clay walls, old wire can be attached to a radio antenna to get a better signal, anything can be a toy!
-Transportation is always an adventure, and it is amazing to see cars that would have been sitting years in a US junkyard toting two or three times their intended capacity in, along and on top of the vehicle (on my slower dirt road bush taxis often have three young men ride standing up leaning on luggage stacking high above the van). Time is not of the essence - on one ride from Hamdy to Niamey (30k) on the ‘commuter bus’, the ride took a whopping two hours and change. No traffic, no break downs, and even the detours were not that bad…no, the driver stopped sometimes less than 100m from a previous to let one person from the middle of the bus off, at some of the larger stops the bus would turn off and both the front and rear of the school bus (style) would be loaded.
-One of the more elderly people in my town has a collection of photos from the last PCVs in Larba during the 1990’s. In one dated 1995 people are drinking tea using the same styles of tea sets and plastic cups sold throughout Niger to this today. Even the funky color schemes seem not to have changed - apparently they all come from a single factory in Niamey.
-While cell phones have come to Niger, even a tower in your town doesn’t mean that you can get through. Nonetheless, it is a recent tech. advance that has taken the country by storm: people often stop to answer phone calls while giving speeches during meetings - sometimes without leaving the premises. Teens will walk around blasting their music/ring tones/even videos as if it was a portable speaker. Cells are not unlike TV’s and radios, where it doesn’t matter if no one is listening to it, keep it blasting at full volume into the night!
-As you might imagine, all of this technology is imported…In a visit to the grocery store you might find one to five percent of products sold are from Niger (probably closer to one); much processed food comes from the EU, batteries and many other technological goods are from China, many cookies found on roadside stands are from India and Indonesia. And most everything seems to be imported directly by the seller - rarely does any local distributor find his name on a label.
-In terms of vocab, all such imported products, from buckets to shovels to electricity are taken from English, Hausa or French (sometimes interchangeably)…Yet I have counted at least four ways to say in the Zarma/Songhai of Larba Birno to say “in the bush” and a different description for millet at nearly every stage of maturation and in every form in which it is eaten.
Sorry, this post has gone on waaay to long,
Thomas
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Some pics from Pre-Service Training
Hi all,
Here is sampling of my first few months Niger in pictures. I hope you enjoy them. We swore-in two days ago and are waiting to be installed in our respective villages....
Some of my host kids holding my umbrella after a rain. In a matter of hours the water in that okra patch behind them was gone. Flash flooding, is FLASH flooding in Niger....
During Demyst weekend in Torodi (halfway between Niamey and Burkina) a streambed that I shot on our walk through town, not realizing that...
The next day, and morning's rainfall later it would look like this.
A fitting sight that I caught on my way to class in Hamdy. A man remaking a wall, with his hands. Manual labor is so persuasive in this country that you can find people making mud bricks and laying them on the street in downtown Niamey...oh yeah, and that wheelbarrow is about the extent of the construction equipment at any worksite.
My concession in Larba...that is our 'mainstreet' in the foreground. Although dirt, it is the only thoroughfare and the only street in the main part of town that could 'safely' hold a car.
A rain/dust/windstorm making its way to Hamdy.
A very typical sight for a Hamdallaye morning...this counts as a bush taxi. And so, it seems, do all other vehicles not sporting an NGO logo or construction trucks.
Cousins of my host family in Hamdallaye. They LOVE matching outfits.
Our whole group after the fashion show.
Our group meeting together at the training site during the first hour of PST, just off the bus from the airport. 
Jesse (al-hajji), Alice and Liz during our fashion show, in which we wore clothes from our host families.
My first morning in Larba Birno during Live-in week, this scene reminded me of something from the Lord of the Rings films.
Teaching the Macarena to Hamdallaye kids during a training session.
Picture perfect sunset my first evening in Larba...no touching up, it was really that amazing. Of course the bugs that water produces are slightly less amazing.
The next day, and morning's rainfall later it would look like this.
A fitting sight that I caught on my way to class in Hamdy. A man remaking a wall, with his hands. Manual labor is so persuasive in this country that you can find people making mud bricks and laying them on the street in downtown Niamey...oh yeah, and that wheelbarrow is about the extent of the construction equipment at any worksite.
My concession in Larba...that is our 'mainstreet' in the foreground. Although dirt, it is the only thoroughfare and the only street in the main part of town that could 'safely' hold a car.
A rain/dust/windstorm making its way to Hamdy.
A very typical sight for a Hamdallaye morning...this counts as a bush taxi. And so, it seems, do all other vehicles not sporting an NGO logo or construction trucks. Cousins of my host family in Hamdallaye. They LOVE matching outfits.
Our whole group after the fashion show.
Our group meeting together at the training site during the first hour of PST, just off the bus from the airport. 
Jesse (al-hajji), Alice and Liz during our fashion show, in which we wore clothes from our host families.
My first morning in Larba Birno during Live-in week, this scene reminded me of something from the Lord of the Rings films.
Teaching the Macarena to Hamdallaye kids during a training session.
Picture perfect sunset my first evening in Larba...no touching up, it was really that amazing. Of course the bugs that water produces are slightly less amazing. - See you all in about a month's time, or until the next time I get internet access
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
A Taste of Reality
Before I begin this post, I would like to note my new mailing address at post. I should be posting it (along with some photos, hopefully) on Facebook soon. If anyone of you should be interested in sending over some goodies, make sure to put in a checklist of the box’s contents as some things can ‘disappear’ during customs.
Thomas Leonard, PCV
Corps de la Paix
Gothèye, Niger
West Africa
You may be wondering why there is no PO Box or address. It is because the six or seven PCVs in the Gothèye cluster are the only people to pick up their mail at this post office! I am posted about 24 km from Gothèye city. I also have changed my cell number from my original to (011227) 96 12 61 44.
My training group has about a week of training left before Swear-in, and I expect it to be a very busy few days. Thus, I am taking this time to share about our live-in experience completed last week and to preview the near future.
Sunday before last all thirty-one of left to the far reaches of Niger to visit our future posts for the week. My region, Tillaberi, surrounds Niamey, so our travel to site lasted all of one afternoon. That morning, the six Tillaberians in our stage met up with our Regional Representative (a PCV) and some other PCVs to buy the essentials for the week: cot, mat, table, pots, stove (and gas tank), buckets, cord, food and utensils. After lunch we split up into two cars and headed to our sites.
I won’t go into all the details, but suffice it to say we all had our share of adventures. Some trainees had unfinished houses, unusable latrines or missing ovens. I didn’t lack anything to essential. Still, I felt like I was at Boy Scout Summer Camp except there was no car to whisk me away, no trading post or swimmable water, and ‘wilderness survival’ actually meant survival. While education and municipality volunteers are often considered ‘spoiled’ compared to other Nigerien PCVs, there are some bush CYE (education) posts. Mine, which did not include a high school, school inspection, municipal government or a paved road, is included in the latter category. CYEs often follow directly after a previous CYE, while I was ‘opening’ a new post. While I have reliable cell phone service and the potential for electricity, my town of 7,000 (chef de village estimate) does not carry much economic or cultural clout. Whereas the training town of Hamdallaye is marginally smaller in size, it has a paved road lined with merchants and relatively constant motor traffic flow. Larba Birno, my site town, has a handful merchants in huts hidden seemingly at random along the main dirt road and in the ‘alleys’ winding throughout town. The sporadic (a few times per hour) traffic rarely stops on its way to the gold-mining operation in Samira 72 km west, hence the lack of imported goods.
On the flip side, Larba Birno had natural beauty not found elsewhere. The seasonal Sirba river whooshed by the south of town, cutting crevasses into the clay and feeding a multitude of trees and shrubs nearby. Additionally, the townspeople had a uniquely positive view of Americans, having welcomed in succession four previous volunteers in Agriculture and Nat. Resource Development (I believe) somewhere between a few years to twenty-some years ago (a point of contention between village elders!). At any rate, the immediate warmth with which I was received differed exceptionally from the awkwardness experienced by many of my stagemates. While at times I felt that certain villagers were trying to exploit their kindness for their own advantage, I greatly appreciated the opportunity to be shown about town like a dignitary. The slow pace of life around Larba seemed to suit me well as well, although I did feel more than a bit cut off from ‘real life’ - despite the fact that this will be my reality for two years. I also learned more Zarma than in I had in the weeks previous combined, although the little French I spoke acted as a mental popsicle.
I will return to Larba sometime around September 12. For the first month I will be staying exclusively in village with an exceptional market excursion to the next town over. That said, do not expect any new blogs for some time. Even when/if I do get electricity, Niamey is the closest internet, and that will be off-limits for my first three months - except for official business like regional team meetings.
Until next time,
Thomas
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Birthday in Niger!
Hello everybody,
I know it's been forever since I posted and I've actually been pre-writing blog posts to put up right now, but unfortunately they cannot be read on the computer I am working on right now. Suffice it to say that I am alive and well, and thank you for all your birthday wishes on Facebook.
-Thomas
I know it's been forever since I posted and I've actually been pre-writing blog posts to put up right now, but unfortunately they cannot be read on the computer I am working on right now. Suffice it to say that I am alive and well, and thank you for all your birthday wishes on Facebook.
-Thomas
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Any Given Sunday
As you can tell, my last blog posts are completely false on a particular point. While I did get back to Niamey, the server that I hooked up to was not connected to the internet. The sub-oceanic cable that was cut some time ago is still affecting Nigerien internet, which is being redirected through other cables, slowing down or stopping up the whole operation. The pool along with the milkshake and chicken caesar salad found therein were still heavenly.
The past week and a half have sped by, filled with more adventure and progress towards our new lives in the field. The number of untold stories piles up while I continue to lack internet access. Our stage has meshed very well and personalities have emerged as comfort levels have risen. Getting sick brings people together, as does shared hardship in general. A week ago I began to feel little beasts scurry about my intestines with an intensity akin to that of liquid hot magma. With powerful meds. it still takes about a week to completely get rid of them - that is amoebas. At the same time I was able to find out more about our new set of volunteer trainers and got to stay in Hamdallaye for one wacky Sunday - our one completely open day of the week.
The rainy season brings Niger its only rain of the year. It’s a bit hard to imagine Niger having problems with desertification when the streets flood multiple times per week. While my hut is doing fine with its cemented albeit holey walls, the mud wall around my concession loses significant mass with each rainfall and this Sunday the liquid level in my latrine rose alarmingly high. When the straw door to my concession fell apart due to the rain, I was admittedly frustrated. Then, after another disappointing lunch I decided to head to the road and find some more nutrition. I was accosted by the college students chilling in their summer pad and was invited to a wedding of one of their brothers within five minutes. Seeking back up, I stopped by a friend nearby who I found out had just had her cement latrine collapse after the morning rain, cutting one of her legs with falling concrete as she managed to only get her toes wet. This only hours after a tree fell on her and her concession-mate’s beds shortly after sunrise. After chatting about that and her trip plans for the end of service, we went to the wedding pre-reception by the marketplace. We were offered food and met the bride off surrounded by her entourage in a house. The wedding was to take place at 4:00. Right around four o’clock a bunch of people left and said that they would be back soon. A handful stuck around while others came back in twenty minutes and said that the wedding was done and that the couple had already headed off to Niamey, where they will live. Confusing, no? Guess what, a Nigerien groom often doesn’t ‘propose’ until two weeks prior to the wedding date! We all should be invited to a number of weddings, naming ceremonies and such similar events, that cultural norms should clear up in our minds. Explaining them to someone who hasn’t attended all our cross-culturally themed sessions might still be kind of difficult.
In other news, late last week we received our site announcements and earlier this week we were able to meet our future supervisors. Next week we will all spend a week going through a ‘live-in’ acclimation in our respective sites. After that only two weeks of training will remain. Wow.
Next time I hope my news will be more up to date, and a full-scale introduction to my site should be in order.
-Thomas
The past week and a half have sped by, filled with more adventure and progress towards our new lives in the field. The number of untold stories piles up while I continue to lack internet access. Our stage has meshed very well and personalities have emerged as comfort levels have risen. Getting sick brings people together, as does shared hardship in general. A week ago I began to feel little beasts scurry about my intestines with an intensity akin to that of liquid hot magma. With powerful meds. it still takes about a week to completely get rid of them - that is amoebas. At the same time I was able to find out more about our new set of volunteer trainers and got to stay in Hamdallaye for one wacky Sunday - our one completely open day of the week.
The rainy season brings Niger its only rain of the year. It’s a bit hard to imagine Niger having problems with desertification when the streets flood multiple times per week. While my hut is doing fine with its cemented albeit holey walls, the mud wall around my concession loses significant mass with each rainfall and this Sunday the liquid level in my latrine rose alarmingly high. When the straw door to my concession fell apart due to the rain, I was admittedly frustrated. Then, after another disappointing lunch I decided to head to the road and find some more nutrition. I was accosted by the college students chilling in their summer pad and was invited to a wedding of one of their brothers within five minutes. Seeking back up, I stopped by a friend nearby who I found out had just had her cement latrine collapse after the morning rain, cutting one of her legs with falling concrete as she managed to only get her toes wet. This only hours after a tree fell on her and her concession-mate’s beds shortly after sunrise. After chatting about that and her trip plans for the end of service, we went to the wedding pre-reception by the marketplace. We were offered food and met the bride off surrounded by her entourage in a house. The wedding was to take place at 4:00. Right around four o’clock a bunch of people left and said that they would be back soon. A handful stuck around while others came back in twenty minutes and said that the wedding was done and that the couple had already headed off to Niamey, where they will live. Confusing, no? Guess what, a Nigerien groom often doesn’t ‘propose’ until two weeks prior to the wedding date! We all should be invited to a number of weddings, naming ceremonies and such similar events, that cultural norms should clear up in our minds. Explaining them to someone who hasn’t attended all our cross-culturally themed sessions might still be kind of difficult.
In other news, late last week we received our site announcements and earlier this week we were able to meet our future supervisors. Next week we will all spend a week going through a ‘live-in’ acclimation in our respective sites. After that only two weeks of training will remain. Wow.
Next time I hope my news will be more up to date, and a full-scale introduction to my site should be in order.
-Thomas
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Niamey!
This will be a short blog post written (hopefully) the evening before it can be read on my blog.
The referendum was fairly uneventful. After seeing military uniforms around Hamdallaye and ‘vote taxis’ departing and arriving, I still didn’t feel nervous. I just today found the complete results of the elections: something like 92% voted yes for the referendum, ‘approving’ President Tandja’s dissolution of parliament and the constitutional court as well as his decision to surpass the constitutional two-term limit for another three years of service. One of my formatrices (language teachers) said that she found all the foreign press attention regarding potential opposition violence funny, as Nigeriens wish to preserve peace more than anything else. More than anything else, I sensed that life for the average Nigerien town remains largely unaffected by national politics - Nigerien families are more autonomous than their counterparts throughout much of the world today.
Today we received our Niamey safety and security tour, a bus tour of much of the city, and experienced a grocery store and restaurant for the first time since we left the States. Our Chinese food was amazing and the fruit, A/C and candy bars made for quite the reverse cultural shock. Tomorrow (today) I plan to go back with much of the group to catch a bit of internet access and a swim at the American Recreation Center pool. Quite the treat of a weekend!
Cheers,
-Thomas
The referendum was fairly uneventful. After seeing military uniforms around Hamdallaye and ‘vote taxis’ departing and arriving, I still didn’t feel nervous. I just today found the complete results of the elections: something like 92% voted yes for the referendum, ‘approving’ President Tandja’s dissolution of parliament and the constitutional court as well as his decision to surpass the constitutional two-term limit for another three years of service. One of my formatrices (language teachers) said that she found all the foreign press attention regarding potential opposition violence funny, as Nigeriens wish to preserve peace more than anything else. More than anything else, I sensed that life for the average Nigerien town remains largely unaffected by national politics - Nigerien families are more autonomous than their counterparts throughout much of the world today.
Today we received our Niamey safety and security tour, a bus tour of much of the city, and experienced a grocery store and restaurant for the first time since we left the States. Our Chinese food was amazing and the fruit, A/C and candy bars made for quite the reverse cultural shock. Tomorrow (today) I plan to go back with much of the group to catch a bit of internet access and a swim at the American Recreation Center pool. Quite the treat of a weekend!
Cheers,
-Thomas
Monday, August 3, 2009
On the Eve of the Referendum
While I should be able to write you a more up-to-date blog post in a few days when we should be able to use the internet for the first time, I thought that it would be best recount the past couple weeks and spend the next post only on the goings-on of the referendum vote which is scheduled for tomorrow. In case you haven’t read much about it, I will do my best to fill you in on some details, especially the perspective you can’t get from the news website.
The last weekend of July we had our first chance to leave Hamdallaye, or Hamdy, to see a bit of Niger and real Peace Corps life. Like everything in Peace Corps, this weekend has a name and its abbreviation: Demystification and Demyst. We are called Demysters for the weekend. All thirty-two of us set out in groups of one, two or three to stay with PCV hosts serving in the two regions nearest Niamey - Dosso and Tillaberi. Since access to much of Tillaberi’s territory has been restricted for US citizens as a precautionary measures (you can read up on that at the State Dept.’s website) only seven of us ‘demisted’ in Tillaberi. I and two others ended up in Torodi with PCV who had been serving. Torodi is one of the few notable towns on the road from Niamey to Burkina Faso (or Burkina, as the locals say) and was a prime location to chill out by the vernal river, sample the delicious meat and honey. Our demystifier cooked us scrambled guinea fowl eggs for breakfast - may I say that guinea fowl meat and eggs beat out chicken any day - with cereal and powdered milk. After beans and rice for oh so many days, ‘twas like manna to our bellies. We spent much of our time reading, journaling, chatting and playing cards. We also were able to meet many of our demystifier’s friends in town, including the smith, who created personalized silver rings for all three of us. The R and R was well-timed as well, as we were becoming overwhelmed by the repetitive language lessons and endless medical, technical and cross-cultural sessions. More than anything, it made me truly begin to anticipate my arrival at site, and my life thereafter.
Something that our demystifier mentioned in passing stuck with me in the following form: “In Niger, nothing ever works like new.” He was talking about a flashlight, but he could have meant many other things, including human bodies. As we were told, a number of us fell sick after Demyst. While I had Mr. D before and after demyst for about six days or so, it was fairly controllable. For others though, medications had caused up to two weeks of constipation. Still others had to swallow a cornucopia of pills for amoebas and bacteria having the opposite effect on the bowels. While this may not seem the most appropriate topic for the blog, you have to understand it has been my primary topic of conversation for the past few days as seven or eight of us spent quality time at the infirmary this weekend.
My lot was different in that I experienced fevers every afternoon and early morning from Friday afternoon till Sunday morning. Combined with continued stomach problems, everything seemed manageable but uncomfortable. At rock bottom I was left on Saturday afternoon with 102.9 temperature that had risen a degree and a half in just under an hour without a clear idea of what I had or even what medicine I should be taking. After an appraisal of the symptoms it was clear a malaria test was more than due. Fortunately, the fever broke yesterday and I feel much better. At the same time, the malaria slide completed under much supervision couldn’t be read. I doubt many of us could imagine what beatings our bodies would take before Niger, but camaraderie has its benefits…including those who can make light out of any situation.
- Thomas
The last weekend of July we had our first chance to leave Hamdallaye, or Hamdy, to see a bit of Niger and real Peace Corps life. Like everything in Peace Corps, this weekend has a name and its abbreviation: Demystification and Demyst. We are called Demysters for the weekend. All thirty-two of us set out in groups of one, two or three to stay with PCV hosts serving in the two regions nearest Niamey - Dosso and Tillaberi. Since access to much of Tillaberi’s territory has been restricted for US citizens as a precautionary measures (you can read up on that at the State Dept.’s website) only seven of us ‘demisted’ in Tillaberi. I and two others ended up in Torodi with PCV who had been serving. Torodi is one of the few notable towns on the road from Niamey to Burkina Faso (or Burkina, as the locals say) and was a prime location to chill out by the vernal river, sample the delicious meat and honey. Our demystifier cooked us scrambled guinea fowl eggs for breakfast - may I say that guinea fowl meat and eggs beat out chicken any day - with cereal and powdered milk. After beans and rice for oh so many days, ‘twas like manna to our bellies. We spent much of our time reading, journaling, chatting and playing cards. We also were able to meet many of our demystifier’s friends in town, including the smith, who created personalized silver rings for all three of us. The R and R was well-timed as well, as we were becoming overwhelmed by the repetitive language lessons and endless medical, technical and cross-cultural sessions. More than anything, it made me truly begin to anticipate my arrival at site, and my life thereafter.
Something that our demystifier mentioned in passing stuck with me in the following form: “In Niger, nothing ever works like new.” He was talking about a flashlight, but he could have meant many other things, including human bodies. As we were told, a number of us fell sick after Demyst. While I had Mr. D before and after demyst for about six days or so, it was fairly controllable. For others though, medications had caused up to two weeks of constipation. Still others had to swallow a cornucopia of pills for amoebas and bacteria having the opposite effect on the bowels. While this may not seem the most appropriate topic for the blog, you have to understand it has been my primary topic of conversation for the past few days as seven or eight of us spent quality time at the infirmary this weekend.
My lot was different in that I experienced fevers every afternoon and early morning from Friday afternoon till Sunday morning. Combined with continued stomach problems, everything seemed manageable but uncomfortable. At rock bottom I was left on Saturday afternoon with 102.9 temperature that had risen a degree and a half in just under an hour without a clear idea of what I had or even what medicine I should be taking. After an appraisal of the symptoms it was clear a malaria test was more than due. Fortunately, the fever broke yesterday and I feel much better. At the same time, the malaria slide completed under much supervision couldn’t be read. I doubt many of us could imagine what beatings our bodies would take before Niger, but camaraderie has its benefits…including those who can make light out of any situation.
- Thomas
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Peace Corps Hardcore
I’m writing this not knowing exactly when I’ll be able to post it online. While much has happened since I last wrote in Philadelphia, I know the biggest events of my entry into Peace Corps Niger are still to come. After a flight to Paris and from there to Niamey, we were greeted by a red land more resembling Mars than North America and a number of volunteers who will serve as ‘summer camp counselors’ for the 32 of us (my term) the next nine weeks.
The first three VATs (Volunteers at Training) escorted us in two vans about 30km from the capital to the village of Hamdallaye, where Peace Corps has been training potential PCVs for decades. A smooth transition has been put in place for us, graded gradually down from American amenities to Nigerien bare necessities. While I don’t think we will ever ‘have’ to live as stripped down as your average Nigerien, it won’t be easy. For my group, made up of MCDs (municipal) and CYE (education) volunteers, we will probably receive an upgrade when we move from training to our posts around the country.
A little a bit about those conditions, shall we? Our first step down from the Philly luxe was the training site, where we slept two nights with lukewarm showers and nicely prepared, balanced meals, sat on chairs with pads, had “flush” toilets and electrical outlets. The first Sunday we were moved down from our gated site into the community. We were split into individuals or pairs and placed in compounds shared with local families. The conditions varied from an individual with a flimsy hut and concession (wall inside compound) made completely of straw, no electricity or TV, nothing but rice or millet to eat with his hands, and no French spoken at home. On the other hand, some people got a companion, a clay hut, a family with a TV and electricity, meat and a spoon, and French spoken in the family. I’m right about in the middle. No matter what, we all take baths with buckets of water under a glorious Milky Way, go to the bathroom in a whole in the ground, have innumerable naked kids running around our compounds, and hand wash at least part of our laundry. At least we don’t do our business way out in the fields or carry enormous water buckets on our heads. And I even escaped the carb-only diet when a group of French nursing interns stayed across my compound for a few days: I not only got to practice my French, but had some mango, egg on toast, and mint water….Ahh, I could die for some mint water right now!
Today marks our first full week in family, we all agree we’ve been able to adjust to the fact that we were able to handle an entire Sunday with absolutely nothing to do (although one girl in the group was put to work hauling water and wood right off the bat!). To me, I kept feeling as if I was in a living-history museum like Greenfield Village, except the fires actually were cooking food I would eat and the blacksmith was making real tools people would really use. Sleeping through the wee hours with donkeys, roosters, goats and sheep offering a cacophony of misfiring alarms brought reality closer to home. A sudden gust of wind and dust woke us all up our first night, as we were rudely welcomed to Nigerien rainy season: where you get more dust and wind than rain. Despite our groggy sprint with mattresses and mosquito netting from our outdoor platforms to shelter, we woke to eyes, clothing, and luggage coated, or even infiltrated with dust.
In our first of many medical training sessions, our Med officer introduced us to Mr. D - Diarrhea. We soon learned one of Peace Corps Niger’s most infamous claims: the highest ratio of gastrointestinal illnesses per volunteer in all of Peace Corps. While I want to say it was 175/year (with between 90-120 volunteers serving), there are of course numbers of unreported bouts. And we’ve already had at least one. This claim to fame categorizes Niger in the Peace Corps Hard Core category with the likes of Tajikistan, as opposed to Peace Corps Soft Core (Philippines - volunteering in a resort with tourists, what!?). As you may know, Niger has been 177 and 174 out of 177 on the UN’s list of human development for the last two years. Nonetheless, we seem to be having it better than I expected. And given that I am learning Zarma, I will most likely be posted well within a day’s drive from Niamey (the capital). When I return to the training site, I marvel at how much work is done by a toilet that flushes, even if it doesn’t quite do it right, or when I want it to.
-Thomas
The first three VATs (Volunteers at Training) escorted us in two vans about 30km from the capital to the village of Hamdallaye, where Peace Corps has been training potential PCVs for decades. A smooth transition has been put in place for us, graded gradually down from American amenities to Nigerien bare necessities. While I don’t think we will ever ‘have’ to live as stripped down as your average Nigerien, it won’t be easy. For my group, made up of MCDs (municipal) and CYE (education) volunteers, we will probably receive an upgrade when we move from training to our posts around the country.
A little a bit about those conditions, shall we? Our first step down from the Philly luxe was the training site, where we slept two nights with lukewarm showers and nicely prepared, balanced meals, sat on chairs with pads, had “flush” toilets and electrical outlets. The first Sunday we were moved down from our gated site into the community. We were split into individuals or pairs and placed in compounds shared with local families. The conditions varied from an individual with a flimsy hut and concession (wall inside compound) made completely of straw, no electricity or TV, nothing but rice or millet to eat with his hands, and no French spoken at home. On the other hand, some people got a companion, a clay hut, a family with a TV and electricity, meat and a spoon, and French spoken in the family. I’m right about in the middle. No matter what, we all take baths with buckets of water under a glorious Milky Way, go to the bathroom in a whole in the ground, have innumerable naked kids running around our compounds, and hand wash at least part of our laundry. At least we don’t do our business way out in the fields or carry enormous water buckets on our heads. And I even escaped the carb-only diet when a group of French nursing interns stayed across my compound for a few days: I not only got to practice my French, but had some mango, egg on toast, and mint water….Ahh, I could die for some mint water right now!
Today marks our first full week in family, we all agree we’ve been able to adjust to the fact that we were able to handle an entire Sunday with absolutely nothing to do (although one girl in the group was put to work hauling water and wood right off the bat!). To me, I kept feeling as if I was in a living-history museum like Greenfield Village, except the fires actually were cooking food I would eat and the blacksmith was making real tools people would really use. Sleeping through the wee hours with donkeys, roosters, goats and sheep offering a cacophony of misfiring alarms brought reality closer to home. A sudden gust of wind and dust woke us all up our first night, as we were rudely welcomed to Nigerien rainy season: where you get more dust and wind than rain. Despite our groggy sprint with mattresses and mosquito netting from our outdoor platforms to shelter, we woke to eyes, clothing, and luggage coated, or even infiltrated with dust.
In our first of many medical training sessions, our Med officer introduced us to Mr. D - Diarrhea. We soon learned one of Peace Corps Niger’s most infamous claims: the highest ratio of gastrointestinal illnesses per volunteer in all of Peace Corps. While I want to say it was 175/year (with between 90-120 volunteers serving), there are of course numbers of unreported bouts. And we’ve already had at least one. This claim to fame categorizes Niger in the Peace Corps Hard Core category with the likes of Tajikistan, as opposed to Peace Corps Soft Core (Philippines - volunteering in a resort with tourists, what!?). As you may know, Niger has been 177 and 174 out of 177 on the UN’s list of human development for the last two years. Nonetheless, we seem to be having it better than I expected. And given that I am learning Zarma, I will most likely be posted well within a day’s drive from Niamey (the capital). When I return to the training site, I marvel at how much work is done by a toilet that flushes, even if it doesn’t quite do it right, or when I want it to.
-Thomas
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
In and Out of Philly in 30 hours
Hi everybody,
I'm writing from my hotel room in Philadelphia in the middle of my staging process. I got in this morning and am leaving tomorrow afternoon. It's been a very busy time getting to meet everybody, learning rules and regulations...getting a crash course on loads of fun stuff like that. I won't be able to write for a while during in training, so I thought I'd write right now while I can. Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers, I'll be thinking of you when I have a chance to think (or breathe).
-Thomas
I'm writing from my hotel room in Philadelphia in the middle of my staging process. I got in this morning and am leaving tomorrow afternoon. It's been a very busy time getting to meet everybody, learning rules and regulations...getting a crash course on loads of fun stuff like that. I won't be able to write for a while during in training, so I thought I'd write right now while I can. Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers, I'll be thinking of you when I have a chance to think (or breathe).
-Thomas
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Intro by the Dexter Leader
I made it onto the front page of today's Dexter Leader, my hometown paper, and I didn't even know it was coming out today! It also made it to the top of the newsfeed on their website. As I plan to do when I start writing my monthly column for them, I will post the articles here on my blog once they hit the press:
http://dexterleader.com/stories/060409/loc_20090604002.shtml
Keep in mind that I was interviewed but did not take any role in writing the article.
-Thomas
http://dexterleader.com/stories/060409/loc_20090604002.shtml
Keep in mind that I was interviewed but did not take any role in writing the article.
-Thomas
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Welcome to my Peace Corps Blog
Hello and welcome to my Peace Corps Blog. Beginning on July 6, 2009, I will be serving the United States Peace Corps in Niger, West Africa. I hope to begin sharing my adventures with you as soon as I arrive, although technical challenges will surely arise. Patience is a virtue.
-Thomas
-Thomas
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