So I came into Niamey Saturday night after the longest bush taxi ride I've had to endure yet. It usually takes three hours for me to get from my village to Niamey. This time it took five. We stopped in Baleyara like usual, where it took them two extra hours to change tires, load animal fodder, and generally dick around doing nothing. I was not in the mood for any of this, as I felt very sick and told that to everyone who attempted to talk to me. I got in to Niamey at 8:30 pm and made it to the infirmary, where I got the joy of sleeping in the air conditioning for two nights in a row!
It started like this. Monday afternoon I returned to village after visiting a friend who had been sick. I felt a little weak, but I figured it was because I'd biked 30k and it was a little hot. I rested, but still felt sore and weak from the heat, dehydration, and what turned out to be a combination of stomach issues and a virus.
The virus hit first. By Tuesday I had a minor temperature, so I stayed in bed most of the day. Wednesday rolled around, and my temperature had gone above 101 F. My entire body hurt, but electricity to the cell tower was out, so there was no way for me to call a medical officer. By Thursday, my temperature was down most of the day, and since my friend's virus had turned out to be self-resolving, I figured mine must be too. Friday was market day, and I felt fine. I did all my usual things and thought my sickness was over. I still wasn't eating much because I couldn't bring myself to eat after feeling so sick most of the week. I felt weak, but better than I'd felt in a number of days. That night, however, I couldn't sleep. I felt strange all over, like I could see everything clearly, like I understood the world. Of course I realize now that I was delusional and raving a bit, but at the time I thought I was the smartest man alive.
Saturday my maigari went out the fields to cultivate. I went too because I felt bad that he had done most of my work in the days I'd been sick, including some of my planting. I walked the 3-5 km out to the fields to look at them, helped the maigari a bit, and was feeling weak again. The sun was hot and I decided to walk back.
By the time I made it back to my hut, I felt like collapsing. I was tired, hot, and felt a bit nauseous. I went to sleep for about four hours, woke up, got sick several times, had a fever above 101, and nothing left to expel from my body. I called our Peace Corps Medical Officer, who told me to come into Niamey, that I had to, and had the worst bush taxi ride of my time here.
The final culprit? Giardia...again. Only this time it was combined with some virus and who knows what else. It took me about four days to fully recover. It's strange. The first time I had giardia, I barely noticed it. This time was the worst experience of my time in Niger. I think I came the closest to saying, "This is not worth it" this week. I didn't, and I'm still here, but I do not want to have a gastrointestinal issues for a while. Throwing up hawru is not the best experience...
*UPDATE* So I had to go BACK into Niamey again because I was still sick days after taking the medicine. The medical officer, in his lovely French accent, told me "that is not normal." Seriously. Turns out I had giardia, amoebas, and bacteria all in my gut, and I needed separate medicines for each of them. I'm going back out to post today, full of drugs and impressed that I've had the trifecta of stomach ills.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Starting "Real" Work in Country
Hello all,
It's been a few weeks since my last update, and this might be the only one for this month. That's mostly because my work as an agriculture volunteer is finally starting now that the rains have come. After nearly 3 months of waiting, the rains have come to Niger and my villagers are planting now. I have two fields: a small plot in the maigari's fields about 5 km north of town and another in my counterpart's fields about 3 km south of town. That's a long walk, but I have managed to keep my iPod alive, so it's not too bad if I have to do the walk alone. I've also started garden plots about one kilometer south of town in my friend Ali's garden. I've planted tomato, lettuce, melons, sunflower, and okra. Half of it is stuff from America, so I don't know if it will take, but I'm hoping it will. It takes about an hour to get out there and water each day.
The field work is a little more intensive. All of it is done by hand. We leave early in the morning for the walk out to the fields carrying a kalma, a long "L" shaped handle on which we attach a kalmize, something akin to a hoe. They plant by taking a step, digging a small hole, and moving on another step to continue this process until the couple hectares have been fully planted. Usually a small child or the farmer's wife follows with a handful of seeds in each mound before covering them and moving on. The holes are about a meter apart, and it's a process that takes all day. That's all for now, I'm actually going out to post in about 30 mins to get back to work on my gardens and fields.
It's been a few weeks since my last update, and this might be the only one for this month. That's mostly because my work as an agriculture volunteer is finally starting now that the rains have come. After nearly 3 months of waiting, the rains have come to Niger and my villagers are planting now. I have two fields: a small plot in the maigari's fields about 5 km north of town and another in my counterpart's fields about 3 km south of town. That's a long walk, but I have managed to keep my iPod alive, so it's not too bad if I have to do the walk alone. I've also started garden plots about one kilometer south of town in my friend Ali's garden. I've planted tomato, lettuce, melons, sunflower, and okra. Half of it is stuff from America, so I don't know if it will take, but I'm hoping it will. It takes about an hour to get out there and water each day.
The field work is a little more intensive. All of it is done by hand. We leave early in the morning for the walk out to the fields carrying a kalma, a long "L" shaped handle on which we attach a kalmize, something akin to a hoe. They plant by taking a step, digging a small hole, and moving on another step to continue this process until the couple hectares have been fully planted. Usually a small child or the farmer's wife follows with a handful of seeds in each mound before covering them and moving on. The holes are about a meter apart, and it's a process that takes all day. That's all for now, I'm actually going out to post in about 30 mins to get back to work on my gardens and fields.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
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.)
(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.)
Saturday, April 19, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
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...
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...
Sunday, March 16, 2008
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.
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.
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