From Sterling by way of Dad

Hello everyone, I am Byron “BC” Carter, Sterling’s Dad.

We talked to Sterling Saturday afternoon. He is doing well, seems to be very enthusiastic, healthy and adjusting to life in a third world country. He bought a cell phone from a volunteer that was leaving and called us. We called him back and talked for a long time. I’m sure it will cost an arm and a leg. If any of you want his number it is: 01122796489863. Africa is 6 hours ahead of Indiana. In other words if it’s noon here it’s 6 pm there. He has cell phone access where he is now but doesn’t know what will happen when he goes to “post” as he calls it. Internet access is completely out of the question as you all might have figured out if you’ve been checking his blog.

Anyway, I ask him if he could write of his adventures and experiences and mail them to me and let me type them onto his blog. He thought this would be a good idea and told me how to accomplish this…So, here I am. We also agreed that I could also print “comments” from the blog and mail them back to him. I really hope this works out. I would hate for you to forget Sterling. Can anyone really forget Sterling? A letter takes about 10 days to get from there to here. I think going the other way is more erratic. If anyone wants to send him a “real” letter, his address is:

Sterling Carter

Corps de la Paix

BP 10537

Niamey, Niger

West Africa

It costs 90 cents for a normal sized letter. As I said I’d be happy to print and forward any comment that appear on the blog.

Now I’m going to type the first meaningful letter we received from him, it was written January 18.

Mom and Dad,

Greetings from Africa. First off, as always, you should know that no news is good news from me. I’m writing mostly out of guilt from my last letter. I figure that since it will be I don’t know how long until I communicate again that I should write a proper letter.

I’m fine, alive and well in Africa. The plane trips were uneventful. I had some stomach problems from bad fish in Philly, so a bit of American food poisoning has been my only health concern even in Africa. They have me on Melfloquine for malaria prophylaxis, as with most other volunteers. It has psychoactive side effects, so we’ve all been having weird dreams.

It’s definitely hot here, even in the cold season. As long as you’re out of the sun though, it’s actually quite nice. The nights are cold though. I bought a blanket and sleep outside, but most Nigeriens sleep inside and are wearing winter coats when it’s below 70 F degrees. I am not kidding.

My hut is about 10 feet in diameter with no electricity or running water. It’s actually small, about half the size of other’s because it’s a Fulani hut, made entirely of straw. I’m worried a f------ wolf is going to come along and blow it down. The walls of my concession are also straw, so if I f--- up with my lantern, it’s over.

A few things about Niger. I’m up to my eyeballs in rice. It’s all we’ve eaten in family stay. All I’ve eaten. I might become a vegetarian while I’m here. I had some chicken yesterday, and it was scrawny and mostly gristle. Considering the amount of filth here, I don’t feel confident about the animals’ health. There is trash everywhere here. Plastic is definitely a menace, as the bags don’t decompose and the goats won’t eat them. The dust is terrible as well. I came home yesterday to find everything covered in dust….inside my hut. I mentioned the weird dreams caused by Mefloquin. Well, I wake up everyday around 4:00 am when the roosters crow. It’s hard to sleep through roosters and the Muslim call to prayer. I want to kill a f------ rooster just for spite. Taking a bucket bath is hard. We get toilet paper, and we can buy more in market, but if we run out, there’s a reason the left hand is taboo in Nigerien culture.

Training is long, from 7:30 am to about 4:15 pm each day. I’m in extensive Zarma language training, and between practice at home and during training, I’m working language about 7 hours a day. It’s a great, if exhausting way to learn, especially as spelling is variable with a non-written language.

If it sounds like I’m complaining a lot then I apologize. I just wanted to give you a bit of this radically new experience. There are many more good things than bad. Nigeriens love to laugh, and they laugh a lot. They’re also very funny and warm. Yesterday Ousman, a tutor said “Ay go ga haw haw haw no,” which is I tie my cow up in the wind as “haw” means cow, wind, and to tie. My host family is also amazing. Some Volunteers have very hyperactive children, but mine are brilliant. My new Nigerien name is Mumbarack Amadou. My family is quite large. It’s hard to tell sometimes because everyone comes and goes, but I now know the structure. Amadou is my father, age 45. Fati is my mother, age 35. Kadiyah is her sister, age 14. I am the oldest child followed by Kader 14, Biba 13, Ibrahim 12, Fadila 7, Abdou 7, Nana 3, Rafat 2. There is a half-brother Kader 12, and I’m guessing another relation I don’t know Bashir 26 and his wife Rahina 16. However, everyone visits even during meals, so there are anywhere from 6 to 20 people here at one time. Kader studies English and knows some French, so he’s the one I rely on most for help. My language is coming along very well, but it’s still a struggle.

Evidently about half or more of the group have had or do have diarrhea. I’ve not been so lucky yet, so let’s hope my luck holds. They told us the incidence of diarrhea in the Peace Corps Niger per year is 334 per 100 Volunteers, which means we can expect to get diarrhea at least 3 times this year. Yea! There’s a Volunteer here who has been here a year and has had amoebas five or six times. I’m looking to avoid that.

I’m studying Zarma, which means I will probably end up in either Dosso or Tillaberi. Speaking to Mary, the country director, I found out that I will be more than likely in the area with the weavers mom talked about before I left. We all laughed and made fun of her. Turns out she does know some things. So I might be able to pick up a thing or two.

The people in the group vary from 22 to 28, I guess they think anyone much older wouldn’t be able to handle it. Niger is considered a “hardship” countries, one of the hardest, most demanding, and hopefully most rewarding places to serve. Everyone seems way more mature than I am. I think I’m the only person I know who has no idea what I’m doing with my life. So, the only real worry, concern, freak out I’ve had is what am I doing here. Not like why am I here, but WHY am I here? I guess I’ll figure it out over the next 2 years.

Anyway, it’s time for lunch.

Kala tonton,

Sterling