Animal Encounters II

Every once in a while, you have to step back and think, "What the hell is that goat doing in my house?" It's times like these that make you realize that you're not in the West anymore, that animals are a natural part of life here that cannot be avoided. At post, in a village of less than 1000 people, of course one must expect a certain amount of animal interaction. The cow walking into your concession and eating the fence. The lizards that scramble over walls and rooftops. The camel parking lot at market. These things have become so natural that they don't feel unusual anymore.

However, it's when you go into Niamey, Niger's capital, that you feel like you're in the twilight zone. The largest, best developed city in the country abounds with dirt side streets and roaming livestock. It's impossible to know who these animals belong too. They just wander through the streets. I don't know where they go or what they eat, but they're there. They're always there.

A few examples. Today we walked into our hostel in Niamey, the regional hostel for Tillaberi and the national hostel for all the Volunteers in Nige, and we were greeted by a VERY pissed off ram. Probably fully aware that it was just waiting around to be eaten tonight. Don't feel too bad, goat pizza is very tasty. Or take the example today when I wanted to cross the street, but couldn't see around the camels hauling fodder along the side of the road. I just needed to take a guess and hope I wasn't killed by the crazy Nigerien traffic. This traffic doesn't even need to include vehicles. The other day we were driving back through Niamey and saw a heard of sheep in the middle of one of the largest, busiest roundabouts in the city.

Like everything else in this country, some days you just have to sit back, relax, and never think "Am I losing my mind, or is that donkey riding shotgun in an open-backed truck?" More than likely it is, and that is not unusual.

Animal Encounters: A Dialogue

April 24, 2008, I had my first major African animal experience. Let's say I'm glad I had my flashlight. Here's how it went down: in dramatic form.


(Sterling walks into darkened house)

Scorpion: Hey dude.

Sterling: WHOA! F***ING SCORPION! WHAT THE F*** ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!

Scorpion: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill out dude.

Sterling: HOLY F***! F***ING SCORPION!

Scorpion: Stop shouting man, you're givin' me the fear!

Sterling: KILL IT! F***ING KILL IT!!!

Scorpion: Kill it?! Are you mental? How about we all just calm down here. We can work something out. (Sterling begins to remove sandal) Okay, let's not do anything we'll regret.

Sterling: DIE, YOU BASTARD, DIE!

(Sterling launches his sandal at scorpion with all the force he can muster. It hits the scorpion, crushing it with one mighty blow.)

Scorpion: This isn't because I ate all your beef jerky is it?

Sterling: YOU ATE MY BEEF JERKY?!

(Sterling repeatedly smashes mostly dead scorpion with his sandal.)

Scorpion: Ouch. (dies)

(The curtain falls)

THE END

I hope you've enjoyed this slightly random dramatic interpretation based on actual events. (Except for the beef jerky part. I added that for comedic release.)

Back from a Month at Post in Hot Season

We new Volunteers, as part of our integration into our individual villages must spend the first month of our service at "post." We're free to move around our clusters, which are sub-regions within the larger regions of Tillaberi, Dosso, Konni, Maradi, and Zinder. We're allowed to visit the Volunteers within a few kilometers of us and move about to our market towns, etc. This was far and away the hardest time I think any of us have had so far.

Part of the reason for that is that it is officially hot season in Niger. The forecast today is a high of 110 Farenheit; tomorrow it will reach 112. Tonight the low is projected at 84 Farenheit. Luckily we do not have much humidity, although with rainy season around the corner, I've definitely been feeling a bit more humidity these past few days. These aren't anomalies either; this is the average temperature for this time of year and the ten-day forecast calls for temperatures between 107 and 112. The lows are usually in the mid-eighties. For those of you reading in Celsius, that's an average high of 43 and a low of 27 Celsius. I believe that qualifies as f***ing hot.

This is how I have been spending my days: The sun usually wakes me up about 6:30. I pull a bucket of water from the well for my bath that day. I make coffee and usually have leftovers from the night before. I spend the morning walking around the village. I sit and chat with the old men or the people working, and I'm usually home again by 11:30. I sleep, read, drink koko, and generally try to not move until abour 4 or 4:30 because of the heat. After that I go out and walk around the village some more and chat. I go home about 6:30, take a bucket bath, and eat dinner. After that it's usually dark. Without lights or electricity, I usually go to bed around 9:30 or 10. Most of my day is spent on mundane texts, hanging out, and avoiding the heat, but it's so important that I learn the language these first two months while very little agricultural work is being done.

The sole redeeming factor of hot season, as I've said to a few of you in letters, is that it coincides with mango season. They are amazing. Luckily I have many mango trees in my area, and I have a friend who always gives me the best he has whenever I visit. If it weren't for the mangos, I don't know how anyone could live in this country during hot season.

I think that's the end of this post. Sorry for the length, but it has been a month. Hope everyone is in health. Kala tonton.

Sickness

Hey everyone,

My installation at post has been delayed for two reasons. The first is that tomorrow is Mawlid, an important Muslim holiday and by association an important Nigerien holiday. The second is that the two of us being installed in the same region have each picked up some nasty intestinal problems recently. Yesterday we were supposed to meet with the regional officials in Tillaberi. It was a formality, introductions to people we will never see again. However, the other volunteer had a rough night Sunday and found out Monday that she had picked up amoebas and bacteria. I, on the other hand, discovered that I'd picked up giardia. What fun!

For those of you who didn't know, as I did not when I accepted this post, Niger is one of the three hardest Peace Corps posts. The other two are Mongolia (extreme cold) and Mauritania (extreme heat). Niger has both extreme heat, poverty, and an abundance of bad things in the GI tract. We were told early on that the incidence of diarrhea in this country is 334 cases per 100 volunteers per year. I've had two cases so far in the last 3 weeks.

The last time I had bacteria, which resulted in a fever, cramps, and I don't want to even describe the frequency or consistency of...yeah, best not to think about it. The treatment is three days of antibiotics. This time has been a little better. Giardia required only a single dose of pills, after which I slept for about 15 hours. Bacteria with amoebas is slightly worse, and by slightly I mean very very bad. It requires a 3-day dose of antibiotics for the bacteria, a 3-day dose of another drug for the amoebas, and a 7-day dose to clear the intestine of amoebic cysts, which can release more amoebas weeks or even months later. The drug combination is like dropping a thermonuclear warhead inside your small intestine and often feels worse than the original diarrhea.

Apologies for the disgusting post, but now you have a better idea of what I've been going through in Peace Corps Niger the past couple months. Sorry, but I have to run. The giardia is acting up again...

Sworn-In and Ready to Go

It's been a long nine weeks, but on Friday evening the Agriculture/Natural Resource Management 2008 stage was sworn in to full service as Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV). This wasn't some small affair, ba kayna (not at all.) The soiree, if you will, occurred at the Ambassador's house, a sprawling semi-mansion across the street from the American Embassy. Truly, it pays to spend your entire life in the civil service. In attendance were most of the 140 PCVs in country, the entire staff of Peace Corps Niger, most if not all of Niger's government ministers, as well as the major media in Niger (ORTN, BBC, Voice of America, and Radio France). In all the ceremony took a little over an hour, and after weeks of intensive language training, I'm proud to say that the three speeches given by our stage were widely considered some of the best many had heard in years.

I was one of those speakers, giving a five minute speech entirely in Zarma. I'd post it here, but I doubt anyone would know how to read it. (Except there do seem to be quite a few people randomly interested in this little site, so maybe RPCVs would know.) It was a pretty stressful week considering all the partying we had to do. Monday we had our party for our language formateurs, Tuesday we had a barbecue as a meet-and-greet the new stage, Wednesday we had our host party family (which was ridiculously fun), Thursday we had an auction in Niamey for the Gender and Development fund, and Friday we had swear-in. It was very difficult to find time to write a speech, but after I did, I was promptly told by the formateurs that it was not cross-culturally appropriate whatsoever for such a grand ceremony.

This brings me to another English major topic in this post. I mentioned before that Zarma has very few words compared to English, some even doubling up with ideas not even remotely connected. I came to find out after writing my speech that the lack of vocabulary in Zarma also brings about a lack of subtlety. Everything is very rigidly defined and cannot be used out of context. For example, the Zarma word for "bandit" which the formateurs called me at site and meant trickster, joker, rogue, does not have the same connotation. Instead, it is a black picture of someone who drinks, smokes, steals, and kills. Nothing else. So my speech that centered on this one word quickly became a quagmire. I rewrote the speech in about 2 days with egregious amounts of help from my friend Rose and my formateurs. It came off without a hitch (that I know of anyway, it's hard to get the pacing of a speech in a language you've known for less than 2 months).

That's all for now. As our swear-in drew closer, we all realized that our time with one another was growing shorter. The Hausa speakers have left for points east. I and nine others have temporarily relocated to Niamey in preparation to meet the Tillaberi governor and other important people tomorrow. After that, we have a month of living at our post. We're not supposed to leave unless in the event of medical emergency (which let's face it, this is Niger, that's a distinct possibilit), so you won't hear any buzz on here for at least a month. I'll try to send letters home for Dad to post, but just think of me and know that I'm suffering through hot season (over 110F with zero humidity).

Kala han fo.

My First Real Post in Africa

Hello everyone. First off, I'd like to apologize for misspellings and errors as I'm using a French keyboard, which is extraordinarily different than an English. Forgive me.

Let me assure you that I am alive and well, but since the last letter I sent Dad I've had a multi-day session of what in Zarma is known as gundekar, literally "a hit to the stomach," meaning massive amounts of diarrhea. This may disgust you, but it's a serious fact of life in Peace Corps Niger that we've all had to deal with multiple times. This country messes with your sense of personal boundaries in part because your body and mind are put to such an extreme test at such a young age.

We've just finished our live-in, which is our first week in village followed by two more weeks of training. After that, we swear-in and have two years of a radically different life than the one we knew in America. I'm in the Balleyara cluster in Tillaberi, but unfortunately, since this is a public blog I cannot be any more specific than that. My village is large for an AG post, and its almost entirely Bella. These are the black Tuaregs, who, centuries ago, were the slaves of the northern Arab Tuareg. There are many issues surrounding this, but if you would like to know more, you will have to mail me for more in-depth information.

I've decided that it's going to be entirely too difficult to synthesize all that I've seen and experienced in Niger thus far, so I'll try to post themes that I've noticed, and since I am an English major, language will be my first topic. I'm studying Zarma, which is the second largest ethnic group in Niger, but I will also learn a little bit of Tamaschek because the Bellas mix the two languages.

A few things about the language, and then maybe the culture will be easier to understand.

1. There is no word in Zarma for please.

The closest one can come is to say "Irkoy se," which means "For the love of God." This can lead to several frustrations as the most common phrase from children especially is "Ay no..." or "Give me." They rarely expect you to hand things over, but it is still a major adjustment to have these demands continuously made of you.

2. The pronouns in Zarma are the same for all uses.

For example, "Ay" means "I, me, and mine." "A" means "he, she, it, his, her, its, him, and her." This means it is relatively easy to speak Zarma, but hearing it is another issue.

3. Every word in Zarma has at least two other meanings in no way related to the first.

This can lead to some fun and a lot of frustration. For example, "Ay haw haw haw ra" means "I tied my cow up in the wind," as "haw" can mean cow, wind, or to tie up. "Ay zama zama ay gonda zama" means "I won because I had a knife" as "zama" can mean knife, because, or to win. So you can see that not only can the words change, but the parts of speech and uses can change as well.

4. There is no distinction between "I want," "I love," "I like," and "I desire."

This may fall under the last point, but during our stage one of the girls tried saying she didn't want sauce and had plain rice for a week because her family thought she didn't like sauce.

5. My English is slowly deteriorating because I get so little practice.

If I start to sound strange, or use terms like "has a lot of effort" or "how's the tiredness" or "I am in health" it's because these are very Zarma ways of saying things. In addition, my maturity level has dropped tremendously, so I've learned way too many "sanniyamo" literally "zero words" that are way to inappropriate for polite conversation.


That's all I have time for now, so I'll be off. I'll finish this another time, whenever I'm in Niamey next. Don't expect another update for at least two weeks. There are many things that I want to say but either don't have time for or cannot post in a public forum, so if you want to write me, you have my address. Sorry for the long post, but you had to expect it after seven weeks off.

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