My First House!

So here it is: my first house!

The second picture is the view from my window (which more often than not includes a camel or two).

The other outdoor picture is of my concession (outdoor walled-in area where I sleep and hang out). The sticks you see will soon have more sticks on top of them to create shade (which is called a "hangar" in french... not sure what to call it is english). Also, the door will *hopefully* be attached in the near future.

The last two pictures are of the inside of my house. It is a one roomhouse, with mudbrick walls, a cement floor, a tin roof, and two windows. On my table you see a water fliter and gas stove, and in the bottow picture you see my bookshelf (which I obviously couldn't live without!) and the trunk where I keep food.

Home Sweet Home! :-)

Ramadan

As I mentioned, it's Ramadan right now, the month long Islamic fast during which Muslims do not eat or drink anything from morning prayer (about 5am) to evening prayer (around 7pm). Since virtually everyone around in Muslim, the fast affects basically every aspect of daily life. It's been really interesting to witness, as it is a very different kind of fast than I am used to. For starters, it's completely uniform, unlike lent. Everyone does the same thing and everyone knows that everyone is doing it. Technically if someone is sick, pregnant, or travelling long distances they are absolved from the fast, but for the most part it seems that most people partake regardless of those circumstances. While not eating from 5am to 7pm is certainly a challenge, I don't think that holds a candle to abstaining from drinking water through the heat of the day, especially here. As a matter of necessity, so as to avoid heat stroke or severe dehydration, activity dwindles and people spend a lot more time sitting in the shade during this month.

At first, the constant discussion of the fast threw me off a bit. Understand, as far as lent is concerned I try not to mention that I'm fasting and to keep what I'm doing/not doing for lent to myself and am accostumed to others treating their fasts in a similar way. But the difference here is that everyone is doing exactly the same thing. People talk about it, often, but they typically talk about it just as they would the weather. "Hello, How's your health? How's your family? How's your fast?", etc. go the regular greetings.

This discussion of fasting has also put my Hausa skills to the test. When asked, I've explained that I'm not fasting now but that I do a different fast in March. (Although I do think I'll participate next year, when I'm in my village..) "Do you eat food?" they ask of Christians during Lent.
"Well, yes, we do."
"Do you drink water?"
"Well...yes."
And then they look at me as though I'm utterly ridiculous, and either say "That's not a fast!" or "That sounds like a great fast - I wish I could do that one instead!"
I try, to little avail given my uber-limited vocab, to explain that it's not necesarilly easier, just different. That it lasts longer and each person chooses what they will give up and/or do. Still, I feel like I've done a pretty serious disservice in my explanation, and thankfully I won't have to attempt that discussion with my villagers until next year, when, inshallah (God willing) my language will be slightly more proficient.

Officially a PCV!

I’m swearing in tonight. After nine weeks of training and two additional weeks of language classes, I’ve been given an “intermediate high” rating in Hausa and will be sworn in tonight with five others. Training was long, often exhausting, and unbelievably helpful. I’m so glad to be done with that phase of PC and to be finally moving into my village and starting my work here.

I will go back to Konni tomorrow or Tuesday, and will spend about two days there before getting installed in my village. This will give me a little time to get my stuff in order and do some shopping before heading into the bush, but the real reason for the wait is that Ramadan is ending this week, and there is a huge celebration on Wednesday or Thursday. It would be somewhat overwhelming to try to move in during the fete, so we’re waiting until it’s over. BUT I will be in my village later this week, and I cannot wait. I know it will be difficult, especially these first few months during which I will be trying to:

-learn Hausa
-get to know people (ie make friends so I’m not sad and lonely all the time.)
-brainstorm possible future projects and counterparts to work with
-set up my house (my first house!)
-and much, much more, I'm sure...

Anyways, it will be tough, of that I'm sure. But I can’t wait.

Surprise Safari

Transportation in Niger is anything but romantic. There are bush taxis, which are usually 15-passenger vans that take you from one village or city to another, and by "you" I mean you, 25 other people, and the occasional livestock. And then there are the buses, for the much longer journeys, such as the treck from Niamey to Konni, my regional capital, the city about an hour away from my village.

that's right, *my* village.

We had site visits last week, and I got to take said bus ride out to Konni (about 7 hours... not bad compared to my friends' trip of 14+ hours!). I met most of the other volunteers in my region, saw the hostel (Peace Corps property for the region where we have team meetings, and are able to come in to write project proposals, etc.), and spent 4 full days in my village. but I'll talk more about that later... What I'd really like to tell you all about was the bus ride.

the buses, while hardly Greyhounds, are significantly more comfortable than the alternative (bush taxis, that is), mostely because they only allow one person per seat (for the most part...). Still, the roads are...bumpy... very bumpy...

So there I was, sitting between two other trainees on our way out to site visits, talking to pass the time, occasionally attempting to read (which is basically impossible for more of the road... see above paragraph), and generally spacing out. Suddenly, some of the Nigeriens started getting excited and pointing. One woman tapped us on the shoulder and pointed out the window.

There were giraffes. RIGHT NEXT TO THE ROAD.

They were literally within about 30 feet of me. Standing, looking, eating from a few of the trees. About 15 wild giraffes.

I should mention that this particular heard of giraffes is the only herd of West African giraffes left.

And there they were. Tall and elegant and strange and beautiful.

"So this is Africa..."

On the bus ride back, I was telling my friend Kira, who had been on a different bus on the way there and didn't get to see the giraffes, about the whole experience. Then our bus suddenly came to a stop.

"How funny would it be if the bus was stopping because a giraffe was crossing the road?" she joked.

It was.

And we saw several more standing on the side of the road, once again.

breathtaking. that's really all there is to say.

I do have to get going now, but I'll be sure to write more about my village soon.

Also - I have a niece!!! As of three days ago! And she is BEAUTIFUL!!! :-)

miss you all and hope all is well in the states!