April 2010: Projects Galore

Toe… I don’t know if being in Niger has lowered my expectation in terms of accomplishment, but I do feel like I have accomplished much in the last few weeks. Here we go…

Girls Camp

Several volunteers in the Zinder region brought 1-4 girls to Zinderville for a week long workshop. Most of these girls were junior high age and (happily) still in school. The first day we made name tags, played games and had a health fair. I really hope to do a health fair at some point in my village now, but I would have to improve my health vocabulary. I was helping out at the food station, where we taught the girls about three different food groups: starches, meats and fruits/veggies, and why each is important. In the starches section, I was suppose to explain how these foods provided durundakum (energy), but I often screwed up the pronunciation. The following days were filled with other classes such as civics education, geography, learning about women from around the world, sensibilization mural paintings, practicing good study habits, and going to the radio station to tell what we’ve been doing and greet our villages. Greeting one’s village and friends is very important and exciting to most Nigeriens. Each girl was able to go up and say, “Ina son gaida…” (I want to greet…) and then they would spew off a list of names. Normally Hausa radio seems a bit tedious because of this aspect, but in this case, the girls’ greetings were adorable. Overall, the entire girls camp was a great success. The volunteers who organized it, those who came a year ahead of me and my stage mates, were amazing! I only hope that we can do as good of a job, if not better, next year.

Kindergarten

My village has started a kindergarten in town, and the director/teacher asked me to see if I could find funding for school supplies. Since this is exactly the kind of work I want to do – providing assistance to community organized and run projects – I was thrilled to help. Luckily the community was not simply asking for handouts. With any funding project, the community has to contribute at least 15% of total project costs. My villagers had already planned to build the kindergarten facilities (a grass hut), each family was paying 100cfa a week per child for the teacher’s services, and the local primary school was already helping out by providing some supplies such as a chalkboard. I did hold a meeting with the traditional head of my village, the sarki, to reinforce these obligations. I emphasized that without this, there’s no money. I also tried to point out that this is a one time thing and that if supplies needed to be replenished at a later date, another solution would have to be found, namely starting a collection or looking for an NGO that specializes in school funding projects.

Several of my villagers have clearly expressed to me that they are motivated and want to do projects, but they simply lack access to funds. This kindergarten was such a case. When talking to my mayor about this problem, he explained to me why funding is such an issue (besides the obvious fact that it’s a poverty stricken country). In most developed countries, government support is provided for many community development projects. My local government cannot provide this assistance. Its tax collecting capabilities are limited. Because people have never benefited from public assistance, they do not see the point of paying taxes. The few taxes that are collected, are traditionally collected by the sarki. According to several villagers, in the case of my village at least (although this may be the case for many others), the sarki and my mayor are from different political parties, which has caused some animosity between the two. As a result, the sarki refuses to give the tax money he has collected over to the local government (or so I am told). Most of the tax money that is collected then goes to the department capital, where in theory it should be redistributed among the various communes (my village is the head of one of those communes). This does not happen however. Of the ~25,000,000 cfa that should go to my mayor’s office for the past few years, they have received less than 7,000,000 cfa.

So this is the situation that my villagers seem to find themselves in. Since I am a white person who can read, write, and who has access to resources that most villagers do not, I am definitely inclined to help financially if I can. I just hope this whole thing does not blow up in my face, i.e. the funds I do get for these projects do not go to the projects and end up being pocketed or wasted on personal expenses. There have been many cases where a volunteer will do a project, such as finding funds and building a water pump, and the village doesn’t take care of it or takes the money for something else. The percentage community contribution is meant to create a sense of ownership for the village so that they are more willing to maintain and cultivate the project. This contribution is sometimes ineffective. The end result is a failed project. I guess the kindergarten will illustrate how much my villagers are actually motivated and how much of their motivation is just talk.

Other projects

I have gotten my first round of pen pal letters almost done! Girls in my junior high school have written letters to girls from my home town junior high. We have just now gotten replies, and I am excited to go back to my village and read the letters with my girls. Even with me translating the letters into French, some explanations will be required. For instance, many of the American girls said they liked to play outside. This seems like a perfectly normal activity in America, but here one might ask, “Play outside? As opposed to what?”. Life here is spent almost entirely outside. If one is inside, it is mostly to sleep at night during cold season or rest when the flies are annoying and it’s actually hotter outside. The buildings here are definitely a lot smaller (one room usually) and don’t even have what we would think of as traditional windows or doors. Little stuff like that is going to be really fun and interesting to talk to my girls about.

I am heading back to my village in a couple of days with some fellow volunteers to do a health mural at my doctor’s office. I plan on painting three different images: 1) a women holding her child for the doctor to give the kid a vaccination; I want to have little pictures illustrating the different times that a child needs vaccines (this is a wonderful idea brought by my artistically talented friend Audrey. Thanks Audrey!); 2) a family with three children who are of different ages to illustrate proper family planning; 3) a pregnant woman sleeping under a mosquito net because pregnant women are actually far more susceptible to malaria, and their babies are at higher risk of death. Hopefully the mural will take only a few days to paint, but will then be used numerous times as visual aids for health sensibilizations. Inshallah!

Since coming back from a fellow volunteer’s town where we did participatory development workshops using theater, my plans for radio in my village have changed somewhat. In Sarah’s village (the volunteer who we visited), we took women’s and men’s groups, and asked them to act out a common problem about village life. Some of these problems dealt with health, cowife issues, lack of food, and problems inherent in the microloan system. We then asked them to think about possible solutions to these problems. The point was trying to visualize these problems as a group in order to better understand them and their potential solutions. For the most part, the results were interesting and informative. Some groups understood what we were trying to do and came up with very detailed, enlightening skits. Others did not quite understand and either mimicked the examples given or went into diatribes describing why they need money. Hausa villagers are not often exposed to activities which encourage creative thought and acting. The idea of thinking in abstractions is a foreign concept in many cases. For instance, if I were to get a group together, ask them what projects they want to do, and then provide an example of a project, they would most likely choose the example I just stated rather than innovating their own project ideas. By using theatre to express real life problems, perhaps abstract ideas and concepts can be merged with reality, creating a bridge of communication and collaboration in some respect. That is the idea at least.

I am hoping to take this experience and translate it into radio shows. I had already decided that using groups in my community, particular the young girls group I am working with, to do radio shows was a good idea. My Hausa is still fairly mediocre. There are some things concerning pronunciation at the very least that I know I will never get. So working with groups to convey messages such as hygiene, family planning, supporting your government, might be the better approach. If they can make these skits up themselves and do them over the radio, that would be even better.

In other news

On the other side of things, I haven’t spent much time in my village. Most volunteers tell me that both I and my villagers should get use to me coming and going. It’s natural, particularly when I am working, trying to get projects off the ground. I am hoping for a cool down soon, though. I hope to spend the majority of this coming month (as in all but two or three days) in my village. People also say that volunteers can’t do much anyway in the upcoming months because the heat makes you not want to move, you’re villagers are probably beginning to starve because supplies are starting to run low from the previous harvest, most men are somewhere else try to work and earn money, and it’s summer break for the kids. So really, it will be just me hanging out in my village, doing what I can.

With any luck, my mayor’s office will get funding for writing a community plan, and we will travel around our subregion (kind of like a county) and talk with communities about their needs and resources. This process may be hampered, though, by the recent political changes. As of April, all elected officials have been stripped of their titles and disbanded. In reality, the elected terms of these officials, namely the mayors, expired a few months ago. With President Tandja changing the constitution and then the military coup, the term was lengthened. But now the new regime has decided a let go all of these officials and have the local governments run by civil servants until new elections can be held. One would think that this would have a large impact on my work. Since there are no civil servants even in my mayor’s office, only elected officials, the local government should technically not exist for the time being. My feeling is, however, that my mayor and the elected commune officials may ignore this official disbanding for the most part. It is not like they were even paid to work in the first place. They recognize that their commune needs help developing and establishing infrastructure. I do not think that this motivation will end just because the national government says they may not officially work. At least I hope they will still show effort.

March 15, 2010

I have just come into Zinder after a week and a half in my village. Not very long, I know. Honestly, I was very tentative about returning to my village. I had not been there for about six weeks. I was also going back with full authority to initiate development projects. While I had many ideas about kinds of projects to implement and different questions to ask my community concerning future endeavors, the idea of actually returning and starting my life as an active, project-doing volunteer was a bit overwhelming. While I try to keep my irrational fears of failure in check, they are definitely always there. Once I actually returned to my village, however, most of those fears and trepidation melted away.

I was lucky to have my friend, Audrey, accompany me back to ville. She was having work done on her house, so we decided she could come with me to do a radio show. Having another volunteer at hand while I immersed myself yet again into Hausa culture was definitely comforting. I hadn’t spoken Hausa much for the past two weeks or so. I was definitely out of practice. I picked it back up pretty quickly though with Audrey to back me up. Seeing and greeting my villagers again was also a wonderful reminder of how great they actually are. I love my villagers. They are very sweet and considerate people. They are definitely more forward than I am use to at times. For instance, they say welcome back and then ask for their zigaygay (present you give when coming back from a trip). In a village of seven thousand people, you kind of wonder how much they expect you to bring back. [Side note: this is a shout out to three wonderful and amazing friends in Toledo (Jayme, Jen and Kim), whose recent package filled with Valentine’s day goodies was much appreciated. My villagers thank you for the zigaygays.] But for the most part, it’s wonderful to have people come up to me, ask how my trip was and say that they missed me while I was gone.

While I was in my village for only a week and a half, I was able to get a few activities underway. First, my grant proposal for a health mural at my doctor’s office went through. I was able to get paints and work out ideas and sketches with the staff members there. They want at least some of the mural to focus on family planning, childhood vaccination and nutrition. I am hoping to actually start the painting in mid-April as my time over the next few weeks will be spent in Zinder and another volunteer’s village doing workshops. Second, I set up a pen pal group with girls at my village’s junior high school. We wrote our first set of letters that I will translate and send off to my middle school in America this week. Third, I got two girls signed up to go to a girls camp with me next week in Zinder. We will be participating in workshops on self defense, physical health, nutrition, entrepreneurship, career building, and more. Finally, I got back into the habit of village life. I visited my radio station, my schools, the doctor’s office, the mayor’s office and houses of various friends. I helped my mayor’s office write birth certificates. I helped out in a few English classes. I also had the chance to help out my medical staff dispense prescription drugs on market day. Overall, good stay in ville.

When I was in my village, I received a call from one of my sister’s college friends. She is writing a thesis in which she proposes American foreign policy for a certain country. Most specifically, she is looking at how American foreign policy might be use to stimulate economic development in Niger. Hence, she called me, an American living in Niger, to get my perspective. Although I did have my own ideas after living here for a while, I did want to ask others’ opinions. So I asked my mayor what he would focus on with respect to Nigerien economic development.

My mayor enumerated the various issues on which to focus. First, he discussed education. The children here are not given a quality education, and they quickly drop out of school. Like the UN Millenium goal states, focusing on basic primary school education is vital to improving Niger’s social and economic development. Equally as important, however, is tailoring educational programs also to the Nigerien way of life, that is to say focusing more on technical training. Many people here drop out of school at an early age primarily because their parents and they do not see the benefits of staying in school. Most of the subject matter, while important for the intellectual and cognitive development of children, is rarely used outside of school. Particularly since most people here are farmers, focusing at least to some extent on curriculum dealing with that subject matter would be relevant and beneficial. Related to this is the need to improve farming methods in Niger. Currently most farming is done by hand, using rudimentary tools and man power. By improving the farming here, Nigeriens may be able to increase their farming output beyond the point of mere subsistence farming. On a side note, this will also remove one more reason for having so many children per family (needed man power for farming), thus addressing population growth concerns in the country. Thirdly, he discussed health issues in the country, which are often connected with lack of health education and malnutrition/starvation due to failed farming in Niger. I was really happy and pleased to see how he emphasized interdependency and need for a multipronged approach to addressing these issues.

My mayor and I also discussed the growth (or lack there of) of industry in the country. In Zinder, for instance, the only real industry today is tannery. While there are many small businesses and a few artisanal endeavors in the region, they are still very small scale and bring little money to the area. My mayor said that there had been several growing industries in Niger. Like many countries and (on a smaller scale) towns, Niger’s industry has suffered from lower cost, sometimes better quality imports. The notion of supporting your local businesses, “buy local”, has yet to catch on. As a result much of the industrial growth here has stagnated, even degenerated.

Random points of interest:

- In English, we often use “ok”, “so” or “anyway” to express the fact that we have heard someone’s point, we possibly agree, and let’s continue. In Hausa, all of that is expressed by the simple word: Toe. I love this fact. At first I felt a little weird continuous mentioning an appendage of my foot. Since then, I have embraced this word as a space-filler, a sign of agreement, and whatnot. I basically say “toe” whenever I can. It’s fun.

- We have reached hot season here in Niger. Thus far it has gotten as hot as 110 degrees Fahrenheit (more heat to come). What does this mean besides the fact that for most of the afternoon everyone here does absolutely nothing? Most of the men have gone on exode, meaning they have left their villages, going to other countries (sometimes other regions) to find work and send money back home. Most men here go to Nigeria, although some also go to Chad, Libya, Algeria, Benin and Togo. I imagine that the amount of foreign remittances (money gained abroad and sent back to country) is pretty high here. Unfortunately, I have also heard that as a result of the men spending so much time away from home, they often create new families abroad. Hence some of that money they gain goes to those families and not to those here in Niger. The men should return to Niger at the beginning of rainy season (July) in order to plant crops.

- I have a correction to one of my last reports concerning pasture animals. I have been told that animals do not actually herd themselves. There are in fact shepherds who herd these animals. They’re just usually far off, maybe watching from a far atop hillside. Part of me is still a little skeptical about this. I have indeed seen animals out in the middle of nowhere, slowly walking back to their homes, with no one anywhere near and no hills/trees to mask their presence.

- “Dead man’s clothes”: these are used clothing, sent to Niger from western countries and sold at market. It’s kind of like Goodwill, although it’s the clothing that Goodwill couldn’t or wouldn’t sell. The clothing might be slightly more damaged or was originally sewn incorrectly so that no one would buy it in the developed world. What’s really cool about dead man’s clothes is that there are usually jewels here and there in the mass of weird clothing. A Monty Python and the Holy Grail t-shirt, for instance, was found by one volunteer. All you have to do is look. What’s even better, though, is seeing Hausa people wearing these clothes. A lot of this clothing has a certain cultural relevance or context such as a Detroit Tiger’s shirt. One friend saw someone walking around his village wearing a t-shirt saying “It’s all relative in West Virginia”. Not only is it funny just to see something so American in a so not American environment, but the fact that they do not know what they’re wearing is also humorous, although sometimes disturbing (there are definitely things I don’t like seeing written on t-shirts in the states, much less here where no one has a clue of what they’re displaying on their chests). I do like seeing ten year old boys walking around town in pink teddy bear pajama pants and shirts.

To, I guess that’s it for now. Sai anjima!

Training, Coups and France

It has been about five weeks since I left Zermou for Niamey. I spent three weeks doing inter-service training. Basically, the once Peace Corps trainees came back from their four month stay in the bush (a.k.a. their villages) and gathered once more to have more language training in addition to more practical knowledge concerning volunteer projects. With respect to the language training session, I did get a few Hausa questions cleared up. Most of the sessions were just hira (chat), but I really appreciated talking with a trained language tutor, particularly one that understands how Americans think and speak. It made translating what we really wanted to say into Hausa much easier. Normally in my village I carry around a small pocket notebook for whenever I encounter a new and interesting vocabulary word. My teacher helped me to understand that vocabulary to a far greater extent than I had been able to before.

We also discussed some aspects of Hausa culture. One aspect that I found very interesting was the tradition of ethnic jokes. I guess this behavior is true almost anywhere in the world: there are jokes based on most ethnic stereotypes (e.g. jewish, black, southern white and asian jokes). Similarly, there are many different ethnicities here such as Fulane and Toubou, who are generally thought to be on the bottom rungs of the social ladder. There are jokes concerning their intellectual slowness and social awkwardness. My teacher explained that these jokes are made to be fun and relieve any ethnic tensions between groups. For this reason, he said, there is very little violence between groups in Niger as there is in several other countries in the world. I wonder if this explanation is accurate. It is true that people here seem to live harmoniously. Segregation, to me, seems limited, particularly when thinking about ethnic neighborhoods (I don’t think that is a common phenomenon here). There also seems to be a lot of intermarriage of groups, although I do not know whether that would be placed as a cause or an effect (leaning towards cause though).

I do wonder, however, if this tranquility will change given the increasing population, lack of land and limited resources. Will these ethnic jokes, that are currently lighthearted and tension breaking, be taken more seriously? I have heard from one volunteer that one of the girls in her school is on scholarship, meaning she is given enough money to buy books and a new school outfit. These scholarships are limited to girls who have good grades and are motivated. This girl also happens to be Fulane. The volunteer said that because of her ethnicity, this girl was teased and as a result has stop showing up to school regularly. Sadly this girl will most likely lose her scholarship and drop out. My teacher also mentioned that if, for instance, a Kanuri were to tease or steal from a Fulane, he would most likely get away with it because of the social order. I guess this kind of behavior is prevalent everywhere; however I am intrigued by the idea of humor lightening these ethnic conflicts. Maybe people do take life a little too seriously? But then again, how far is too far concerning these stereotypes and the resulting behavior?

My interservice training did get me set up with a few good ideas, which I intend to use in my village. The one nice aspect of this training was that we were able to bring one counterpart for a few days with whom we worked. Hopefully my counterpart and I are now on the same page. Since Peace Corps is an exercise in participatory development (that is working with the community to develop community driven development projects), we were taught two different approaches to holding a community meeting in which we would discuss needs and brainstorm feasible projects. I am not sure how often volunteers actually use these methods. They are fairly theoretical, and I wonder about the outcomes. I am eager to try though. I definitely do not want to spend most of my two years here doing projects that I think I can handle without the motivation and participation of other groups in my village.

*****

By the end of my three weeks at IST, I was sad to say goodbye to my fellow volunteers. It was really nice seeing them all again, and we had a lot of fun. People do have to make sacrifices, however (wink, wink). I actually left IST two days early and headed off to France to meet my boyfriend and his family there. I walked around Paris for a few days and then headed to the Languedoc region of Southern France. It was a lovely trip whose details I will not bore you with seeing as this is a blog about Niger, not France.

While I was in France, there was a military coup in Niger. If you have read any of my other blog entries, you would have heard mention of the political conditions in Niger. The residing President, Mamadou Tandja, was not satisfied with the work he had accomplished in his last ten years in office. So he asked for a three year extension. Both the legislative and judicial branches of Niger said that was unconstitutional and refused to change the law. Saying it was the peoples’ right to choose whether he stayed or went, Tandja dissolved both governmental bodies and held a referendum which would lengthen his term three years and change the constitution somewhat. The presidents power would be consolidated somewhat and he would have the right to be reelected as many times as he liked. The referendum passed with some opposition. Opposing parties boycotted the election saying it was unconstitutional. Everything did seem to go relatively smoothly, though.

Last Thursday, February 18, the military unseated Tandja and took control of the government. The coup leader, Maj. Salou Djibou, set up a transitional government run by a Prime Minister, one-time Information Minister Mahamadou Dandah. He said that new elections would take place as soon as possible. Considering military coups in other countries, one would look on this declaration with skepticism. In Niger, however, a coup of this kind has happened before; the 1999 coup led to one of the country’s first decades of relative democratic peace. So who knows what could occur. Maybe this coup is just one more step along Niger’s evolutionary development.

Compared to most military coups, there seemed to be only a little violence. Most Peace Corps volunteers were kept safely in their villages. Those in or close to Niamey were confined to the Niamey hostel. It was so quiet that most did not fully get what was going on until ten o’clock that night when Maj. Djibou came on television and explained what had happened. There must have been some violent outbreaks because the taxi cab driver who took me to the hostel a few days later showed me his driver side door. The glass and mirror were no longer there. The door was really banged up. And he told me how soldiers had swarmed at least his area of Niamey. He had to run home with his kids and tell them to sit and be quiet. Now everything is fine it seems. I was able to get back into the country with only mild apprehension (the borders had been closed for two days). In a country with so much poverty, little infrastructure and a peaceable population, I do not think that this national coup had or will have too much of an effect on the local populations. I guess I will find out when I get back to my village.

For me, being outside of the country as this all happened was somewhat worse than if I had been inside the country. At first, I was only getting news from media sources, which most definitely framed events into a caricature of reality. At the time, part of me wondered if I would ever get to go back to Niger. I was considering whether I would be able to get my ticket destination changed to America. Then I managed to call my friend, Alex, who was actually in the country. He seemed a bit surprised to hear from me, but he was nonplused about the political situation. From what I could tell, he was just hanging out in his village. That call certainly put things into perspective. It helped me to realize yet again that relying solely on the media can blow events out of proportion and lead to panic.

January 2010

It’s winter in Niger. Well, it’s cold season, which means that it may get down to the fifties at night and seventies during the day. I walk around and see people wearing winter coats, hats, heavy sweaters, etc. Most of this is in the morning when even I wear a light sweater that I brought from the states. The “cold” weather provides a great conversation topic as I walk through my village. People ask me how the cold is: “Ina sanyi”. I respond, “Lokacinshi” or, it’s that time of the year. Then people skeptically ask me if I actually feel the cold. I tell them a little and then describe snow. I am not sure many people understand the concept of snow even after I explain that it is ice that falls from the sky. Although, until coming here, I found it difficult to imagine how hot I could be without going mad. Experience (and thus frame of reference) is important in these situations. These past couple of days it has been particularly chilly because of the wind, to the point that taking a bucket bath (i.e. filling a bucket with water and using that to bathe myself) is rather bracing. Sadly, this season will not last very long. I am off to Niamey for a three week workshop and then going to France for two weeks. By the time I return to my village, cold season will most likely be ending, and I will be looking forward to several months of hot season where it can get up to 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Oh joy. This may be the true test of my fortitude as a volunteer in this country.

In other news, after returning to my village in December, I celebrated my friend, Nana’s wedding. As I said before, weddings in Niger are certainly different. Like many events here, the celebration is segregated between the men and women. Women have their own party, similar to a bridal shower, during which people come and give kitchen pots or money. They also give each other henna and braid each others hair. The bride, of course, gets special pampering. To the best of my knowledge, men give each other money, or give money to their pre-existing wives. Depending on the household, there is also dancing at night (also fairly segregated but not totally). At the end, the wife goes to her husband’s house and spends the next few days cloistered in her hut, getting all of her new stuff arranged. A few days after that, her husband visits her and they consummate the marriage. Nana’s husband lives in another village, and I had planned to go with her and see her new home. Due to security restrictions, however, I had to back out at the last minute. I was disappointed particularly considering I came back to my village Christmas day in order to celebrate and spend time with Nana. I just have to keep telling myself, “better safe than sorry”, right? Since Nana’s wedding, I did attend a few others. Similar to the stereotypical month of June in the states, now is the wedding season in Niger. I stop in, check out all the bridal loot, give a mille cfa to the bride, get some gum, and leave. I am still a little fuzzy on whether I should give a mille to a bride I don’t really know. My village friends were shocked and amazed that I gave that much. Apparently I was just supposed to give a hundred. Oops.

After the wedding, I was back to the usual routine. In the mornings, I walk around my village, stopping at various places such as the doctors, the radio station and the mayor’s office. I chat, hoping to improve my hausa and learn more about my village. It is clear at this point that my mayor brought me here because 1) he wants a better educated and aware female population and 2) he is hoping that I may be able to do some fundraising while I am here. For the former, I think I can make some progress. I have several projects in mind in which I can interact with the schools, the doctor’s office, the radio station and several women leaders in my village. For my workshop in Niamey, I get to invite a village counterpart to participate; this is someone whom I think will be a great resource, aid and initiator of projects. I have chosen to invite Aisha, a woman who has certainly carved out a leadership role for herself. She is one out of twelve representatives (one of two women) in the regional governing body. She is vice president and lead spokesperson in the local radio station. In addition, she is vice president of a women’s group that Project CARE (international NGO) helped to set up for the larger Zinder region. She has been a good friend these past few months, and hopefully she will be a motivated counterpart. I am also hoping to rely on the women in my mayor’s family. Several of his daughters are teachers in primary schools, and his wife seems to have some unofficial leadership status among the women in the community.

As for the mayor’s second goal, fundraising/material resource, I am not sure how difficult that desire will be to achieve. Like most communities today, resources are slim (although they are obviously scarcer here than in any developed country). The mayor and several other village leaders have explained to me that while they have certain ideas and plans for how the town should develop as a community, they lack the means of initiating those plans. They barely have the money to write their own community development plan that would outline the community’s top priorities and plan of action for obtain those goals. This document is commonplace in most American communities.

One potential hurdle to my work here is the change in government representatives, conseillers. The recent local elections changed the party majority from my mayor’s party, Sintsia, to the leading national party, MNSD. I hope the mayor’s popularity will keep him in office. If not, I will have to adapt somewhat considering I have basically been adopted into the current mayor’s family. Related to this is the way in which the party majority changed. The MNSD party has far more resources (i.e. money) than the Sintsia party. They are able to go further into the country, spending more time and money there. More importantly, because illegal bribing is not regulated here, political parties are able to give out free stuff to citizens right outside the voting polls thereby influencing their votes. During elections, my villagers got t-shirts, soap, skirts, pamphlets, posters, and more. Of course campaign financing is certainly a problem in the states, but this situation is ridiculous.

During this past month, I also spent time in another volunteer’s village. While there, we recorded a few radio shows and painted two health murals on her doctor’s office wall. For more information see: http://ajsafrica.blogspot.com.

Other random thoughts:

- It is very difficult to make change in Niger. If you go to the market, a store or outdoor street vendor without correct change, there is a good chance they will not be able to exchange your bill. They often send a kid running to ask someone else in the area if they have correct change. Sometime, such as when you go to the post office, you are out of luck if you do not have correct change. You have to go and find someone who will exchange you money or you give them more than they request. Sadly, when you go to the bank to withdraw money, they generally give you large bills even if you request smaller ones. I know some volunteers go to the market in Zinder and play the change game. They go to various vendors and see how large a bill they can break.

- How many people/animals can you get on a motor cycle? A Nigerien would know. We have seen motorcycle taxis carrying goats, chickens and multiple toddlers.

- While some children are deathly afraid of seeing a white person, others like to slowly walk up to the local anasara and poke, touch or caress them. I have heard some people think it is luck to touch a white person. Although, if you attempt to touch a child yourself, they will often start backing away and screaming. Even adults at time seem to be interested in touching an anasara. Sometimes when I am walking around my village, someone walks up to me, holding out their hand as if they want to shake my hand except they hold it for an exorbitant amount of time (according to my cultural values that is).

An Eventful Month

Hello to all! Ça fait longtemps qu’on a parlé ou, bon, que j’ai écrit. Compared to the last few months, I have been relatively busy. Soon after leaving my regional capital, Zinder, I was called back again due to a small security risk all the way across the country. If this raises concerns for anyone reading this blog about the safety of Niger, have no fear. I can certainly applaud the American government for diligently concerning itself with the safety of its citizens. In the end, nothing major really happened, and the volunteers in my region and I still feel much safer here than we would in the states. My mother pointed out, as people at home told her to encourage me to come home, that four people were just killed in Ohio (my home) whereas no one has even been injured here. That may say something about how we, as humans, perceive threats.

In any case, I was able to return to my village within two weeks and start on some projects left to me by another volunteer who had just finished her service. I was extremely depressed to see her go, but was excited to work on some projects. I have spent the last few weeks assembling two drip gardens, one in which we planted tomatoes, onions, carrots and beans. In the other, we planted saplings from another village including squash and lettuce. A couple of weeks after returning to my village, three of my fellow volunteers came to visit, and we designed and painted a world map in a primary school. It took us about three days to get most of the work done. I still need to go back and fill in the names of countries and put a final glaze over the entire map. Thus far, though, it looks pretty good. Considering we’ve spent the last few months simply hanging around our villages and chatting, each of us certainly felt that we had accomplished something. If anything, this project satisfied our need as Americans to be proactive and busy. I do hope, however, that the final product is helpful to the villagers. Most have rarely or never studied a world map. Some are shocked when I tell them that I have to take a bus, two planes and a car to get home, all of which takes three days at least (usually more). Akwai nesa (it’s far)!

My one regret concerning the world map project thus far is that I didn’t recruit the help of the villagers as much as I would have liked. Some village friends helped with the first few steps (measuring out the map and painting the blue background), and they also provided basic supplies such as water and mats to spread the work out on whenever we needed. Sadly, my Hausa is not good enough to describe in detail what needs to be done. Trying to describe how one can use a grid to make a basic drawing of a world is difficult even in English if someone doesn’t have a frame of reference. Although, I think part of it was the desire to do the work quickly and efficiently, which would not have happened if I had tried to incorporate more village participation. In this case my honkuri (patience) was lacking to sad effect. I am hoping, however, when the time comes to do a similar project in my own village, I will show more kokari (effort). I have already considered how I might teach as we paint the map: by having kids draw countries’ shapes and names out of a hat and coloring them in. If I could develop some good relations with some older kids and improve my Hausa, I may have a workforce ready and eager enough to draw the map itself.


Until then, in my own village, I have started tutoring English at the local junior high during the student free periods. I am also gathering scripts to record radio shows for my local station. In most regional capitals, the Peace Corps does a once per week radio show. Each show focuses on a certain development theme such as health issues, education and women’s rights. I am hoping to recruit other volunteers’ help in the next few days to record a few shows that I can play at my own station. One particularly show that I’m interested in producing is the importance of spacing births and family planning. Most of the people I have talked to here think each woman should have ten children each. I think this mentality takes into account the high mortality rate of Niger, one of the highest in the world. Have a lot of children because some of them are bound to die, and you want to have some left in the end. But what people may not understand is that by having fewer children and having their births well spaced out, their children may have a better chance of surviving. I have had this conversation with many people here, and they are still shocked that, if I ever do have children, I only want two. I explain that I want to give my children good food, good clothing, good educations, good everything. If I have many children, I won’t have the means to give them those things. While this rationale seems to make sense to me, it flies in the face of cultural tradition here. Even my local likita (doctor), or nurse practitioner really, has told me that Mohammed ordered Muslims to have many children and having children is development. I found it difficult to prevent myself from saying, “Well, if that’s the case, Niger is one of the most developed countries in the world”. The opinion here is largely that Allah will provide, and whatever happens, it is Allah’s will. I am starting to tell people that sometimes Allah may need help from us, particularly since our numbers are growing. At any rate, addressing subjects like this might have an effect (hopefully).

On a lighter note, one of my mayor’s daughters is getting married on the 26th of December. Weddings here usually last three or more days. The bride stays in her father’s house, gets pampered, and people visit, giving money and presents. The bride gives bits of candy to those visiting. On the last day of the wedding, the bride is taken to her husband’s house, often in another village, and the family sets up the bride’s house (I hope I get to go). Wives typically have their own one room houses where the husbands may sleep, or not. When they set up the house, there’s usually a china cabinet that displays all of the pot sets. People often give lots of pots. They come in sets of three usually and are piled on top of one another, smallest to largest. I think it’s a status symbol somewhat. I am debating whether to buy her a set of pots or get something more personal. In the meantime, I get to wear a uniform, basically a bridesmaid outfit. She picked out the fabric, her family and friends buy the fabric and take it to the tailor. I am having a wrap skirt made with a shirt top. I asked for help with the design because I know very little about Hausa clothing style. So I really have no idea how it will turn out. I will find out when I go back to my village on December 25th. Alas, since I want to celebrate Christmas a little with my fellow Americans in Zinder, I am missing the first two days of Nana’s wedding, one of which includes a huge henna party. I did get my hair braided before coming to Zinder, but I am not sure it will last until the wedding.

Now for some observations that may or may not be of interest to you all:
- Male and female relations here are obviously different from those in the states. The two sexes are much more segregated. Even within households, women have their own areas, and men have theirs. When I enter my mayor’s house, there is an open air hallway with two open doorways. On the right is the Mayor’s area with house. I have spent very little time there, and have never seen inside the house. Nor have I ever seen any woman spend time there other than saying the formal greetings to my Mayor before moving on to his wife’s area. Further down and to the left is the doorway to his wife, Harida’s area (he only has one wife, very progressive) and her house. This is also where his older daughters and all the children hang out. I assume their older sons sleep in the Mayor’s area, but I also see them hang out in Harida’s area occasionally during the day.
Part of me wonders if this segregation affects the intimacy between same sex relationships. Women and men are spending most of their time away from one another. Even married men and women have different houses with different beds. There is very little physical contact between the sexes. What is the effect on same sex friendships, which seem to be an even more important relationship in this case? One manifestation of this difference may be men walking around holding hands. As I walk around my village or market places, I regularly see men holding hands as they stroll down the road. I hate to admit it, but I think in America that would come off as stereotypically homosexual. Oh Americans! Hey, one has to make up for the limited physical human contact somehow, right? Granted, this could be complete over-analysis on my part.

- In Niger, the whole shepherd herding his sheep scenario is overrated. Here, sheep herd themselves. While they have their own area near their owners’ houses, they are not fenced in. In the morning the leave they leave the area. Sometimes the family shoos them away. They go out to the daji (wilderness/the bush) and come back in the evenings by themselves. I wonder whether farm animals in the states are smart enough to go and find their way back to their houses without the aid of farmers or sheep dogs, etc. I really know very little about farming in the states though. It’s possible.

- My supervisor is awesome. He is a native born Nigerien who speaks English very well and likes to use slang or speak English with a twist. Instead of saying “fantastic”, for instance, he says “cokestatic”. He explains that he doesn’t like Fanta, he likes coke.

BABU RUWANA (Not My Water)

To all my language savvy friends, I thought this little tidbit of Niger language and culture would be of interest. In a country that is primarily desert, water is obviously scarce and always needed. The significance and centrality of water in Nigerien culture is highlighted in the way that the word water (ruwa) and drink (sha) are used in the Hausa language. While sha literally means “to drink”, idiomatically, it can mean “to do a lot of something” or “to do something often”. Here are some examples:

- Sha aiki: to work really
- Sha wahala: to experience real suffering
- Sha yawo: to take a long walk
- Sha tahiya: to take a really long trip
- Sha ruwa: to be old/have a long life

When I walk around during the day and ask about people’s work (Ina aiki?), I often hear “Ana sha”. While I am sure there are several idiomatic expression concerning water, the one that comes to mind the most is “babu ruwana”. This expression literally translates “not my water”, but it means “it’s not my business”. I (sha-ed) used this expression a lot during the recent legislative elections. As a Peace Corps volunteer, I am suppose to be a-political. When my villagers asked me what I thought of the elections and the political events that have taken place these past few months, I responded: “babu ruwana” and “I voted in the states for Obama; that’s where I do politics”.

I am interested in hearing what my villagers have to say a propos to Nigerien politics though. Relatively speaking, Niger is a very young democracy. About ten years ago, Niger had elections under its fifth constitution and elected Tandja Mamadou. Since then, the country has seemed a fairly stable and growing democracy. Under the Nigerien constitution, a president can serve only two five-year consecutive terms. This coming December would have be the end of President Tandja’s second term. The President, however, held a referendum requesting that he have an additional three years as President to continue and hopefully finish the projects he started as President as well as have the opportunity to run for reelection after that. Before the referendum, Tandja had asked the permission of the legislature and the supreme court. Both refused to grant his request, and using a special executive order, Tandja dismissed both branches of government. He argued that, as a democracy, Niger would let the will of the people decide whether he should continue his Presidency or not. The referendum passed with an overwhelming majority of the Nigerien population saying “Referendum, OUI!” About two weeks ago, Tandja held elections to reconstitute the national legislature. A few days later, ECOWAS initiated an embargo on Niger, saying Tandja’s action were unconstitutional and question the validity and transparency of the referendum.

I have heard a few differing opinions from my villagers concerning the situation. Many applaud Tandja and were happy to show their support for him during the referendum and legislative elections. After all, the referendum results did show that the large majority of Niger wants Tandja as President; therefore, it is the will of the Nigerien people, a democratic act. For this reason, several people that I talk to do not agree with ECOWAS’ embargo and realize the true people who will be hurt by this embargo will be the Nigerien people. Still other people agree with ECOWAS to a certain extent. They think that by dissolving the legislature and the supreme court, and by removing the role of Prime Minister in the government, Tandja has not only lengthened his term as President but also consolidated his power, creating a dictatorship in a sense. Some dispute the referendum results, believing that many opposition parties boycotted the election or were silenced. Many of these people do not dispute the referendum results but state that the Nigerien population was not properly made aware of what they were voting for. Concerning ECOWAS’ actions, however, those that I talked to said these actions were taken to late to have the desired effect. If the embargo had taken effect before the referendum, Tandja and Nigeriens may have taken steps to satisfy the international community. Now that everything is already done, the Nigerien population will be the only party injured by this embargo.

Part of me is glad that I am supposes to be a-political. This is a very complicated situation, and I am not sure if I would be at all qualified to express an opinion to my villagers. Hence, babu ruwana is a bit of a god send. I do know that other volunteers who do have strong opinions about the situation (either way) are having some difficulties, particularly considering that many of us came here to work with the local governments and help develop civic responsibility. This entire situation raises the ever present issue of neutrality for foreign aid workers. Neutrality protects me and the future presence of Peace Corps volunteers in Niger. Past evidence has shown that when foreign aid workers compromise their neutrality, they can put themselves and others in danger. But doesn’t neutrality and this concept of babu ruwana also, in a sense, condone acts by state governments that would otherwise be seen as reprehensible? Please do not misunderstand me, in this case I am not referring to the events that have taken place in Niger. I am merely commenting that the babu ruwana mentality, under certain circumstances, seems like a double-edged sword (e.g. Sudan, Ruwanda, etc.). Concerning national governments, they are so tentative about interfering with the sovereignty of other states (again babu ruwana – it’s not our state, not our business), that they are extremely slow to act. In this case, I am referring to ECOWAS and its untimely embargo. I question how effective this embargo will be.

***

It has been one week since I wrote the above. Apparently, the embargo has taken effect. Going to my Friday market, there were next to no fruits or vegetables. I was lucky that I found cucumbers. Fresh produce, usually transported up from Nigeria, has been blocked from entering the country for the past few days. Alas, my Fridays will be slightly less exciting and profitable. One of my village friends is particularly dismayed. She usually buys a few pieces of coconut, and we snack on them together. Goodbye coconut. Given that my village is quite a bit north of Nigeria, it doesn’t get many produce from there (or in general) except for on Fridays. I wonder how villages closer to the border are fairing. Will this embargo actually influence Niger’s actions? Thus far, many Nigerien’s that I talk to are mostly annoyed with recent event, yet they are adamant that they made the decision to reelect Tandja. Others don’t know what to think.