Changes

The last two months have been rough, and I'm ready for something new. It all started with the trifecta of stomach ailments I wrote about in an earlier post. My house sprung a leak, to put it nicely, shortly thereafter, which is what happens when you choose to build your house out of dirt. I had a couple pretty good weeks after that. I guess God decided that I needed some breathing space before he started razzing on me. The beginning of August brought some tough times with other Volunteers in country. We had a lot of people leave all at once. Everyone was a bit on edge. People made selfish decisions, let their judgement run away from them, and spilt a lot of bad blood.

So while July was physically trying, August's mental exhaustion nearly wiped me out. My best friend in country left last week. She was one of my closest neighbors, my closest friend, and just generally someone with whom I wanted to finish my service. My counterpart left for the Ivory Coast two days later. This is the guy who's shown me everything in my village. He helps me in the garden, watches my house, and is one of the only reasons I stayed in country after my roof collapsed. It's hunger season though, and he needs money. A lot of guys in Niger go on "exode" to look for money in neighboring countries. Niger is so poor that they must leave the country in order to do migrant work to support their families with basics like oh...I don't know food.

So in a matter of days, I've lost my closest American friend and my closest friend in village. So...dot dot dot. The new stage swears in in two weeks. When they do, I'll have been in country for eight months. In Peace Corps, new Volunteers are obligated to stay in their villages for the first two months. They can't leave, and they are meant to spend their time integrating and learning about their communities.

This past week has been a complete transformation for me. I feel like I'm starting my service over again. My plan at the moment is to spend the next two months in village, just like that new Volunteers. I need to be away from people at this point. Too much drama and too much disillusionment. The nice thing about Niger is the ability to escape. We may have lost that in America. One is too connected, has too much of a pull toward others without feeling like any part of a larger community. I hope the next couple months will be a renewal, because I need it at this point. Eight months has flown by, and I feel like I've missed a lot of it. I've been too caught up with other people's lives and business.

And it shouldn't be too hard to stay in village at this time. Peace Corps is, for lack of a better term, financially *#&$% right now. We've had to cut basic services to Volunteers. Our administration is sweating because it's gotten to a point where we might not have the ability to run any kind of successful program in country. We've lost a lot of money due to inflation, a falling dollar, and the weak economy. You can read about this all online if you look hard enough, but it gets kind of depressing.

I've posted the link to this news article. Write somebody, anybody about this. Newspapers, congressmen, your neighbor Sally.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/08/21/AR2008082103384.html?nav=rss_world

See you all in a few weeks, after that, it may be months.

Kala han fo.

Long, Dusty Roads

I can't believe it's been a month since my last post. Time slips away like water through a sieve in the grand scheme of service. I don't know how this works because there are some days when I sleep, read, and generally hang about for hours and hours and hours on end. It's like some days never end. I've been in Niamey several times this month, but forces have conspired to keep me away from posting. The Internet is unreliable at the best of times, and I've started work on radio with friends in Gotheye and Dosso. Add to that my fields, my gardens, and general exhaustion and I've had a very full slate.

The rains did not come this month. The millet was "thirsty," as my villagers say. Then in the past four or five days we had eighty or more millimeters dumped on us. That's only a few inches, but when you're used to 350 or 400 mm for the entire rainy season, it's quite a lot. The soil just can't handle that much water, nor can the adobe houses and laterite roads. My house managed to survive this rain, surprisingly, but I was still worried that eight hours of continuous downpour would finish it, leaving me wet, dirty, and miserable in the middle of a field of mud.

My fields are definitely not the greatest, but I expect I'll do better next year. It's a lot of hard work, and when it's combined with gardening, I end most days asleep at 8:30, or earlier. My villagers don't understand this at all. Nigeriens don't sleep. They can wake up at 5:30 am for prayer call, work a full day in the fields, and still not go to sleep until midnight or later. My personal opinion is that they're all caffeinated beyond belief. When they aren't working, they're drinking coffee, tea, or chewing on kola nuts, a disgusting, bitter fruit that has more caffeine than a shot of espresso. Terrible for your teeth, but what can you do? My gardens are coming along. I have sunflowers that are producing seeds, a few tomatoes that I'm waiting to see if they'll fruit, and some watermelons that seem to only want to stretch their vines and hang out. No fruit, and I don't think I'm going to get any. It's like having a stoner roommate. Just eats all my fertilizer and contributes nothing. I'm also up to my ears in okra. I have 12 okra plants, and they're trying to make up for the watermelons lack of effort. The only problem is...I don't like okra that much to eat it three meals a day. So I give it to my villagers, who are surprised that I have okra this early, especially because lack of rain has killed just about all theirs.

I'm very sleepy right now, so I'll wrap this up. I don't know if I mentioned last time, but I have a cat now. His name is Squibbs, or Peanut, or Pip, or Butters, really whatever I feel like calling him at the time. He's near retarded, but a cute little thing none the less. We're doing very well hanging out on rainy days and sleeping when we're not eating. I guess that's all for now. Until next time. Kala han fo!