Greetings earthlings!
It's been super long, I know. I'm back in Zinder for a few days to celebrate Thanksgiving (albeit late, but we are used to delays here!) and have a breather from
life out in the bush.
I've been working diligently on a community needs assessment thing that's due in January at our in-service training, interviewing various community leaders and such and trying to come up with project ideas. I still need to track down the head of the likita/health clinic, who, always just as I'm ready to ask him if he has a second for my questions, speeds off to the neighboring villages to give vaccinations. Most days I sit under a tree across from the mayor's office and hang out with the CEG (middle school, essentially) teachers when they are on breaks from classes. Since it's on the edge of town I can also greet the women as they walk out to the fields, or the men as they drive their donkey/ox/some large animal carts.
This past week I visited my friend Liz in her village, located about 25km from mine. She's closing her service this week, so her villagers threw a farewell party. Liz bought a goat to slaughter (of which I of course did not partake), and some of her teacher friends came by for tea in the afternoon. The highlight, though,
was being transported to said village on a donkey cart. 'Twas a long trip - 2 hours through the deep sand. The cow/steer/whatever hadn't made the trip before, so it sort of refused to move about halfway through (conveniently as it was getting dark, and we were flashlight-less), but thankfully we all had enough energy to follow the cart on foot and a Nigerien who led the way in the pitch black. I also got to pet a horse for about five minutes and said hello to a 2-day old goat, which seems like kind of a childish highlight, but have I mentioned how much I miss contact with animals? I just discovered the other day that my neighbors have a camel, so I'm kind of dying to ask if I can pet it. They already think I'm crazy (because sometimes I wear pants!) so I don't have much to lose by inquiring. The camel has these gorgeous eyelashes and just sits there looking kind of smug, not unlike the Sphinx, and it makes me chuckle.
In other news, we had a team meeting today in Zinder and talked about plans for an upcoming girls' soccer tournament that should be a lot of fun. Each of us will bring a team into Zinder, and they'll also tie in some AIDS education. Hopefully I can find 18 girls who want to play, since my middle school is sorely, sorely lacking girls. We'll see how rounding them up goes. I will enlist for sure the assistance of our CEG director, who, frankly, is like the most motivated person I've found so far in a village of 12,000, at least in terms of encouraging education. And Moussa has incredible patience with my combination of broken Hausa and partially functional French. Thank goodness for him, seriously.
I must sign off as I think our Thanksgiving dinner beckons now. Missed the Macy's Parade this year, and of course, all of you. But I'm in good company and loving my little adventure. Toodles!
Friday, December 3, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
A rollercoaster ride
First off, apologies for the lack of an accompanying picture to the last post. Bandwidth in Niger is, delicately put, not up to the American standard. I ran out of patience waiting for it to load as I sat on the floor of my regional hostel under a ceiling fan, feeling I could just have easily been in Havana in 1954.
So I moved in to my village on September 28th, and while I teared up as my supervisor Ousmane shook my hand (when I really wanted a hug, but you know, cultural norms here don't really allow for a dude to hug a dudette), I began the newest portion of this grand adventure with gusto.
My village is gorgeous, my friends, at least right now, when the millet is high, the leaves are green, and the hills take on a nice shade of purple and blue when the light hits them just right. I love the baobab trees with their ENORMOUS white, almost birch tree (in texture)-like trunks. After meeting my counterpart at the mayor's office, I decided to take a walk for an hour or so and greet people, soon accumulating no less than 50 children trailing behind me, shouting the name of the volunteer who I am replacing. No, no, children. I'm not Zahara (she went back to America!), I'm Roukkeya. And you will like me and not laugh at my Hausa.
I tried to set up my house a little bit and then the next day, as has become my routine, I went to the mayor's office for a few hours in the morning to sit and greet people and make friends (or try). No one does much of anything from 12-5, so I have taken to making lunch and reading during the pseudo-siesta. To say it's a different lifestyle's the understatement of the century, but if you think about it, it makes sense. Why is there such a need to rush around? Why not take some time to have tea on a mat with your neighbor?
Last Sunday I went to see my closest PC neighbor, Mark (aka Omar), and we spent the afternoon at his village's market. Another volunteer (a fellow KU alum) joined us, too. So great to see other Americans after a few days by ourselves! The highlight of the day was eating egg sandwiches on a bench on the side of the road and by some divine intervention, finding a Diet Pepsi. Heavenly, I tell you, but really after four or five days in the intense heat without the possibility of refrigeration, ANYTHING cold will suffice.
Anyway, it's been a humbling couple of days - between my neighbor (and, at least for now, my go-to lady)'s youngest, already very fragile son falling ill with malaria to the death of a dear fellow volunteer (from "natural causes," although no one knows what that means for a 26 year old). All of us from the July 2010 stage are gathered now in Niamey for Steph's memorial service. We'll return to our villages in a few days. I commented to my friend Annette (and fellow member of Team Zinder, as Steph was) on our 15 hour bus ride yesterday that every day here is pretty fragile, and until now, even though we see evidence of it every day, it hasn't quite hit home. The challenges of life in Niger (the absolute poverty and all that includes - disease, malnutrition, desperation) can easily overwhelm a person. But there is also so much that is lovely and worth celebrating. And that, as best we can, is what we need to hold on to. Making every day count is what it's all about.
Toodleloo!
So I moved in to my village on September 28th, and while I teared up as my supervisor Ousmane shook my hand (when I really wanted a hug, but you know, cultural norms here don't really allow for a dude to hug a dudette), I began the newest portion of this grand adventure with gusto.
My village is gorgeous, my friends, at least right now, when the millet is high, the leaves are green, and the hills take on a nice shade of purple and blue when the light hits them just right. I love the baobab trees with their ENORMOUS white, almost birch tree (in texture)-like trunks. After meeting my counterpart at the mayor's office, I decided to take a walk for an hour or so and greet people, soon accumulating no less than 50 children trailing behind me, shouting the name of the volunteer who I am replacing. No, no, children. I'm not Zahara (she went back to America!), I'm Roukkeya. And you will like me and not laugh at my Hausa.
I tried to set up my house a little bit and then the next day, as has become my routine, I went to the mayor's office for a few hours in the morning to sit and greet people and make friends (or try). No one does much of anything from 12-5, so I have taken to making lunch and reading during the pseudo-siesta. To say it's a different lifestyle's the understatement of the century, but if you think about it, it makes sense. Why is there such a need to rush around? Why not take some time to have tea on a mat with your neighbor?
Last Sunday I went to see my closest PC neighbor, Mark (aka Omar), and we spent the afternoon at his village's market. Another volunteer (a fellow KU alum) joined us, too. So great to see other Americans after a few days by ourselves! The highlight of the day was eating egg sandwiches on a bench on the side of the road and by some divine intervention, finding a Diet Pepsi. Heavenly, I tell you, but really after four or five days in the intense heat without the possibility of refrigeration, ANYTHING cold will suffice.
Anyway, it's been a humbling couple of days - between my neighbor (and, at least for now, my go-to lady)'s youngest, already very fragile son falling ill with malaria to the death of a dear fellow volunteer (from "natural causes," although no one knows what that means for a 26 year old). All of us from the July 2010 stage are gathered now in Niamey for Steph's memorial service. We'll return to our villages in a few days. I commented to my friend Annette (and fellow member of Team Zinder, as Steph was) on our 15 hour bus ride yesterday that every day here is pretty fragile, and until now, even though we see evidence of it every day, it hasn't quite hit home. The challenges of life in Niger (the absolute poverty and all that includes - disease, malnutrition, desperation) can easily overwhelm a person. But there is also so much that is lovely and worth celebrating. And that, as best we can, is what we need to hold on to. Making every day count is what it's all about.
Toodleloo!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Swear-in!
It was a lovely day indeed. The official ceremony was held at the Ambassador's residence, and approximately 200 embassy officials, current PCVs, Peace Corps staff, and friends attended. My friends gave speeches in Hausa, French, and Zarma, and those were quickly broadcast on Nigerien radio and TV!
Here's a picture of my new (smaller) regional family (only some of us pictured are new PCVS). Our "Nigerien dad" (our training manager) is in the back row. I think we were all a little choked up bidding him farewell at the crack of dawn yesterday, but we'll see him in a few months.
We are now in our regional hostels awaiting "installation" in our villages. I'm both excited and terrified for the moment when the car drives away, and I'm on my own. Courage and confidence, Erinie.
Here's a picture of my new (smaller) regional family (only some of us pictured are new PCVS). Our "Nigerien dad" (our training manager) is in the back row. I think we were all a little choked up bidding him farewell at the crack of dawn yesterday, but we'll see him in a few months.
We are now in our regional hostels awaiting "installation" in our villages. I'm both excited and terrified for the moment when the car drives away, and I'm on my own. Courage and confidence, Erinie.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
One week left of training
The Hausa love their proverbs. One of my favorites is “Little by little, the bird builds its nest.” Slowly but surely we fledgling Nigerien birdies have been building a community, learning to chirp in Hausa and/or Zarma (with some French thrown in for good measure), and preparing for time in our own nests. Pre-Service Training ends in five or six days, and we will swear-in as Peace Corps Volunteers on Thursday morning (at 10am Nigerien time)! It’s amazing to think how far we have come as a group. The moment we stepped off the plane in Niamey in July, a tall dude named Tondi said, “Come with me right now,” and we did, partially given his stature and partially because he was instantly trustworthy. In a country like Niger, I think we all realized extraordinarily quickly we would need to trust each other and trust our training staff. We’ve had our moments of frustration (particularly with the “just-in-time” method of conveying necessary information), but it’s incredible how much each of us have grown and changed for the better (well, not nutritionally, but whatever) over the past 11 weeks. And really, the “just in time” method and presenting us with incremental challenges/hurdles worked pretty well for most of us. Gradually our “Nigerien Dad” and his crew let us step further and further away from our protective training nest, trusting always that we would learn from our missteps.
We move out to our sites next Saturday. Honestly, it’s a terrifying prospect, but it’s time to try life in Niger on our own. We now have to place trust in our communities, that they will befriend us, help keep us safe, and help us help them.
In grand Sellards style, we created paper bags for each person in our stage to fill with comments/compliments written by our fellow stagieres. We will read them in times of trial, when we remember that crying alone in our huts/houses will get us nowhere. We’re in for a challenging first month in our new homes, but really, we’ll be fine. We have each other, we have our staff, we have those who will become great friends in our villages, and we have all of you at home. Thanks for being there.
PS - My address is now:
Erin Lockley, PCV
Corps de la Paix
BP 641
Zinder, Niger
West Africa
Oh, also, please consider sending news and/or fitness related articles with your letters. I hope to get a radio soon, so that I can at least listen to the BBC and have a clue about what’s going on in the world.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Almost finished with training
Hello my lovelies!
I just finished my second language proficiency interview, and I have advanced to an intermediate level in Hausa, miraculously. We have just returned from language immersion (mentioned in the last post), which was intense but totally worth it.
We went to a small town (3-4,000 ppl) within about 50 miles of the Nigerian border. I really bonded with the people there, actually more than I have with my homestay family, so that's weird. I definitely would have just moved right in, had PC chosen that particular post for me, but my friend Casey will do well there. I decided when I got here that I need to be willing to try anything because no matter what, as an "anasara," I'm going to look like an idiot doing it. Women here pound millet with these huge mortar and pestle thingies (which weigh like 25 pounds) all the live-long day. I decided to ask my new friend Assama to teach me how to do it, partially because I wanted to win them over and partially because I knew they'd find it HILARIOUS. Oh, and they did. Within 4.3 seconds of my pounding attempts, a crowd of about 8 women had gathered, and the laughter commenced. I kept saying, "Amma ina da kokari dayawa!" ("But I have a lot of effort!). They kept making me stop to check my hands for blisters - very sweet of them! I tried to continue for about 20 minutes, and it did in fact win me some street cred. You can also use the same mortar/pestle combo (and again, they are huge) to make peanut butter (which I have also made, go me!), so I may have to purchase this equipment to supplement my physical fitness routine. You should see the arms on these women - they are toned, trust me.
What else? We have two weeks left of training, and I think most of us are ready to be done, like, yesterday. I'm pretty sure being all alone in a new house in town will be uber-stressful, but I've thought that of a lot of things so far. Luckily s a group we've gotten through every challenge rather gracefully.
Thanks, as always, for all the cards and letter. It means the world to me. Shouts to Am and Melissa for being my most frequent correspondents and for keeping me posted on matters large and small. In closing, I'd like to make you super jealous and report that on our bumpy bus ride back from Maradi on Tuesday, we spotted two wild giraffes as we passed through the Dosso region (the home of the last wild herd of giraffes in West Africa).
I hope, one day soon, to post pictures. Until then, sai hankuri. Love, EL
I just finished my second language proficiency interview, and I have advanced to an intermediate level in Hausa, miraculously. We have just returned from language immersion (mentioned in the last post), which was intense but totally worth it.
We went to a small town (3-4,000 ppl) within about 50 miles of the Nigerian border. I really bonded with the people there, actually more than I have with my homestay family, so that's weird. I definitely would have just moved right in, had PC chosen that particular post for me, but my friend Casey will do well there. I decided when I got here that I need to be willing to try anything because no matter what, as an "anasara," I'm going to look like an idiot doing it. Women here pound millet with these huge mortar and pestle thingies (which weigh like 25 pounds) all the live-long day. I decided to ask my new friend Assama to teach me how to do it, partially because I wanted to win them over and partially because I knew they'd find it HILARIOUS. Oh, and they did. Within 4.3 seconds of my pounding attempts, a crowd of about 8 women had gathered, and the laughter commenced. I kept saying, "Amma ina da kokari dayawa!" ("But I have a lot of effort!). They kept making me stop to check my hands for blisters - very sweet of them! I tried to continue for about 20 minutes, and it did in fact win me some street cred. You can also use the same mortar/pestle combo (and again, they are huge) to make peanut butter (which I have also made, go me!), so I may have to purchase this equipment to supplement my physical fitness routine. You should see the arms on these women - they are toned, trust me.
What else? We have two weeks left of training, and I think most of us are ready to be done, like, yesterday. I'm pretty sure being all alone in a new house in town will be uber-stressful, but I've thought that of a lot of things so far. Luckily s a group we've gotten through every challenge rather gracefully.
Thanks, as always, for all the cards and letter. It means the world to me. Shouts to Am and Melissa for being my most frequent correspondents and for keeping me posted on matters large and small. In closing, I'd like to make you super jealous and report that on our bumpy bus ride back from Maradi on Tuesday, we spotted two wild giraffes as we passed through the Dosso region (the home of the last wild herd of giraffes in West Africa).
I hope, one day soon, to post pictures. Until then, sai hankuri. Love, EL
My birthday, cikin Niger
Greetings earthlings!
Though I loathe the term, I appreciate the idea and creation of 'bucket lists.' I wrote an unofficial version circa 2002 but on this day (8/26), I find myself checking off two items from the list: 1) join the Peace Corps and 2) spend as many birthdays as possible in unusual locations. I think Niger qualifies as unusual. Today was possibly the best birthday I've had since at least 1999, when my Overland Park friends Lauren and Clay threw me a small party in the parlor (and it truly was) of Corbin Hall at KU. We were new college students, puppies really, and the fact that they thought of my birthday in all the hubub really touched me. It was one of the first times I realized that somehow I have an ability to make friends with people who are truly kind and lovely.
Flash forward to today. We are in the final stretch of a two week language immersion (in Hausa). I woke up to my roommate Alynn handing me a homemade birthday card under my mosquito net. Everyone in our stage (and a few language trainers) had signed it, and it was very Sellards-like in its, "I like Erin because..." I received a couple of birthday text messages from current volunteers, too. We started the day wandering off towards the millet fields and had language class in an nearly-outdoor classroom. Later on we enjoyed an impromptu visit from our training manager (Tondi) and medical officer (Walter), who were out making rounds to the different lang immersion sites. They brought me a small cake from some random bakery in Maradi; we enjoyed it after a dinner of potatoes and Rancho Gordo black beans (thanks Mom and Dad - Steve Sando would be proud to know his beans made it all the way to West Africa).
It was odd not to talk to my family or friends, but I'm so very fortunate to have over 50 more people in my life who I can call friends, confidantes, and co-workers. That's quite a birthday present. Despite minor annoyances like 115 degree heat and flies out the wazoo (or the latrine), I felt a lot of love today.
Though I loathe the term, I appreciate the idea and creation of 'bucket lists.' I wrote an unofficial version circa 2002 but on this day (8/26), I find myself checking off two items from the list: 1) join the Peace Corps and 2) spend as many birthdays as possible in unusual locations. I think Niger qualifies as unusual. Today was possibly the best birthday I've had since at least 1999, when my Overland Park friends Lauren and Clay threw me a small party in the parlor (and it truly was) of Corbin Hall at KU. We were new college students, puppies really, and the fact that they thought of my birthday in all the hubub really touched me. It was one of the first times I realized that somehow I have an ability to make friends with people who are truly kind and lovely.
Flash forward to today. We are in the final stretch of a two week language immersion (in Hausa). I woke up to my roommate Alynn handing me a homemade birthday card under my mosquito net. Everyone in our stage (and a few language trainers) had signed it, and it was very Sellards-like in its, "I like Erin because..." I received a couple of birthday text messages from current volunteers, too. We started the day wandering off towards the millet fields and had language class in an nearly-outdoor classroom. Later on we enjoyed an impromptu visit from our training manager (Tondi) and medical officer (Walter), who were out making rounds to the different lang immersion sites. They brought me a small cake from some random bakery in Maradi; we enjoyed it after a dinner of potatoes and Rancho Gordo black beans (thanks Mom and Dad - Steve Sando would be proud to know his beans made it all the way to West Africa).
It was odd not to talk to my family or friends, but I'm so very fortunate to have over 50 more people in my life who I can call friends, confidantes, and co-workers. That's quite a birthday present. Despite minor annoyances like 115 degree heat and flies out the wazoo (or the latrine), I felt a lot of love today.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Greetings Earthlings!
Huh. Odd how I seem to have forgotten how to type in the last month or so. Anyway, hello from Niamey. It's been forever, I know. Trust me.
If I've learned anything from Niger so far, it's to take things moment to moment and to "sai hankuri" (have patience). It's extraordinarily easy to get overwhelmed here. I'd liken it to getting on a crowded Red Line car during a Cubs game. You have no idea if you are going to arrive in one piece, but at each stop, your confidence increases, and eventually you arrive at your destination safe and sound, if massively sweaty. Yep, that's like Niger.
A month later, I am still getting used to the "newness" of it all: donkeys braying (actually our family goat was gurgling this morning, and it was hilarious) at 4am, the prayer calls five times a day, new food (well, really just getting used to rice and sauce 2x/day every day), etc. I can say for sure that Nigeriens have been super welcoming and patient with each of us. Certainly the Peace Corps staff have been AMAZING, and my fellow stagiers are a funny and boisterous bunch.
Anyhoo, we have been busy, busy, busy with training. Two days a week we have core sessions up at the PC compound on things like how to reset your shoulder should it become dislocated in the bush (not kidding) to how to plan and facilitate meetings Nigerien style. The other four days we have language training in our host village at different families' houses. We sit under big shade trees and have a little blackboard, and it's all pretty much exactly what you'd think of when you think of Africa.
Homestay is going fine, although I totally threw my host mom for a loop when I presented her with dried garbanzo beans to fix (because we only have beans twice a week at best, and this is our only protein source. Those who know me know I NEVER think protein is an issue with vegetarians but it is in Niger.). She looked at me like I was nuts, and I had to try to explain (in Hausa) that they are cooked the same as black-eyed peas. She said she'd serve them tonight for dinner, so I'm nervous. Otherwise, they're a nice family, although I feel badly sometimes that I'm more interested in their goat than I am in their children. So some things never really change.
The weather is a rollercoaster ride every day. We're in the midst of rainy season, and when they say it rains, they really mean it downpours, and the dust kicks up so it looks like Oklahoma in 1929. The heat is intense (partially because we are now spending 95% of our lives outdoors, including sleeping), but then there are days like today when it's about 85 and windy, and the locals are donning ski hats and sweatshirts. Not lying.
Anyway, thank you to those who are writing so faithfully. I'd compare it a bit to getting mail at camp. We all gather around and see who got mail, and it kind of makes or breaks your week.
Props to Ambriel for being the most frequent writer, and for including early holiday greetings. I played "mash" by myself but was fairly disappointed in the results: living in Niger, married to one of my language trainers, and working as a trash lady (which is something that is desperately needed here).
In short, I'm having fun, trying to stay healthy (a huge challenge) and enjoying the ups and downs.
Love and miss you all. To, sai anjima.
If I've learned anything from Niger so far, it's to take things moment to moment and to "sai hankuri" (have patience). It's extraordinarily easy to get overwhelmed here. I'd liken it to getting on a crowded Red Line car during a Cubs game. You have no idea if you are going to arrive in one piece, but at each stop, your confidence increases, and eventually you arrive at your destination safe and sound, if massively sweaty. Yep, that's like Niger.
A month later, I am still getting used to the "newness" of it all: donkeys braying (actually our family goat was gurgling this morning, and it was hilarious) at 4am, the prayer calls five times a day, new food (well, really just getting used to rice and sauce 2x/day every day), etc. I can say for sure that Nigeriens have been super welcoming and patient with each of us. Certainly the Peace Corps staff have been AMAZING, and my fellow stagiers are a funny and boisterous bunch.
Anyhoo, we have been busy, busy, busy with training. Two days a week we have core sessions up at the PC compound on things like how to reset your shoulder should it become dislocated in the bush (not kidding) to how to plan and facilitate meetings Nigerien style. The other four days we have language training in our host village at different families' houses. We sit under big shade trees and have a little blackboard, and it's all pretty much exactly what you'd think of when you think of Africa.
Homestay is going fine, although I totally threw my host mom for a loop when I presented her with dried garbanzo beans to fix (because we only have beans twice a week at best, and this is our only protein source. Those who know me know I NEVER think protein is an issue with vegetarians but it is in Niger.). She looked at me like I was nuts, and I had to try to explain (in Hausa) that they are cooked the same as black-eyed peas. She said she'd serve them tonight for dinner, so I'm nervous. Otherwise, they're a nice family, although I feel badly sometimes that I'm more interested in their goat than I am in their children. So some things never really change.
The weather is a rollercoaster ride every day. We're in the midst of rainy season, and when they say it rains, they really mean it downpours, and the dust kicks up so it looks like Oklahoma in 1929. The heat is intense (partially because we are now spending 95% of our lives outdoors, including sleeping), but then there are days like today when it's about 85 and windy, and the locals are donning ski hats and sweatshirts. Not lying.
Anyway, thank you to those who are writing so faithfully. I'd compare it a bit to getting mail at camp. We all gather around and see who got mail, and it kind of makes or breaks your week.
Props to Ambriel for being the most frequent writer, and for including early holiday greetings. I played "mash" by myself but was fairly disappointed in the results: living in Niger, married to one of my language trainers, and working as a trash lady (which is something that is desperately needed here).
In short, I'm having fun, trying to stay healthy (a huge challenge) and enjoying the ups and downs.
Love and miss you all. To, sai anjima.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Alive and well!
Greetings, earthlings!
It's been forever, I know. Today is really the first opportunity we've had for internet access. We are all hanging out in Niamey for the morning, as we've all returned from "Demystification" weekend, where we live with a current volunteer to see what their lives are like "in the field." It was fun but slightly overwhelming. Our volunteer had been away for a few weeks, so I think the combination of two additional "anasaras" coming into the village and our host vol having been gone made the villagers extra chatty. We spent about six hours yesterday walking around greeting people. You get to feel a little like either a politician or Justin Bieber. Everyone is super friendly and curious, so it's just something to get used to.
Things are going pretty well overall! We are so, so busy with training. We are up at the PC training site two days a week for "core" sessions, such as how to take (our own) blood samples for malaria testing(!) and "the ABCs of Islam." The other days we spend in our host village (we all basically live in the same one, though with different families) learning a new language (mine is Hausa). We have lunch and dinner each day with our host families, so I'm getting my fill of rice. Beans, too, when we are really lucky.
The weather has been a bit of an adjustment because although it's HOT, it's also like tornado-strength windy. There were a few mornings when I woke up with sand in my mouth. It's worth it to sleep outside though (under a mosquito net) because the stars are amazing.
I need to get off the computer for the sake of my fellow vols, but know that I miss everyone. I learned within approximately three minutes of landing at the airport to take things one moment at a time. It's a constant rollercoaster for sure, but certainly we are learning a lot. Each Nigerienne I've met has been extremely warm and welcoming, so that's an adjustment in its own way.
Toodles for now!
It's been forever, I know. Today is really the first opportunity we've had for internet access. We are all hanging out in Niamey for the morning, as we've all returned from "Demystification" weekend, where we live with a current volunteer to see what their lives are like "in the field." It was fun but slightly overwhelming. Our volunteer had been away for a few weeks, so I think the combination of two additional "anasaras" coming into the village and our host vol having been gone made the villagers extra chatty. We spent about six hours yesterday walking around greeting people. You get to feel a little like either a politician or Justin Bieber. Everyone is super friendly and curious, so it's just something to get used to.
Things are going pretty well overall! We are so, so busy with training. We are up at the PC training site two days a week for "core" sessions, such as how to take (our own) blood samples for malaria testing(!) and "the ABCs of Islam." The other days we spend in our host village (we all basically live in the same one, though with different families) learning a new language (mine is Hausa). We have lunch and dinner each day with our host families, so I'm getting my fill of rice. Beans, too, when we are really lucky.
The weather has been a bit of an adjustment because although it's HOT, it's also like tornado-strength windy. There were a few mornings when I woke up with sand in my mouth. It's worth it to sleep outside though (under a mosquito net) because the stars are amazing.
I need to get off the computer for the sake of my fellow vols, but know that I miss everyone. I learned within approximately three minutes of landing at the airport to take things one moment at a time. It's a constant rollercoaster for sure, but certainly we are learning a lot. Each Nigerienne I've met has been extremely warm and welcoming, so that's an adjustment in its own way.
Toodles for now!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
A l'aeroport!
Hello lovely readers. We're sitting in the Philadelphia airport waiting for our flight to Paris, then Niamey. Staging went well yesterday, though we left one tired bellhop at the hotel. Poor dude lugged our bags around like crazy, and apparently I was one of the few and proud who packed far less than the 80lb limit. One of our fellow trainees actually just brought one little backpack; I'm not sure how he managed that.
Everyone in our group (there are 33 of us) are AWESOME. I truly look forward to spending two years with these folks. Or at least in their proximity. Nice mix of ages, too.
We are all excited, although admittedly freaked out. Apparently there is a severe drought again in Niger this year, so we are a bit concerned about how that will affect our host communities. We shall see.
Everyone in our group (there are 33 of us) are AWESOME. I truly look forward to spending two years with these folks. Or at least in their proximity. Nice mix of ages, too.
We are all excited, although admittedly freaked out. Apparently there is a severe drought again in Niger this year, so we are a bit concerned about how that will affect our host communities. We shall see.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
A little surreal
I can't quite believe I'm leaving in 4 days, but I'll be darned if these haven't been a great couple of weeks off, spending lots of time with my parents and friends (and HGTV, I can't lie). Thanks, Lauren, for a great day today.
Official packing begins tomorrow, as I have 99% of what I'm taking sitting on the floor of my room at my parents' house. One large backpack, one medium duffle, and one school-size backpack. These will contain my posessions for my two-year adventure. I highly doubt it'll all weigh anywhere near 80lbs, but I could be sorely mistaken. And I mean that literally, since I'll be toting all of it around.
My biggest dilemma is which pair(s) of Birkenstocks to take. Certainly the "dressy" pair is a given, but I'm not sure between the blue patterned pair and the orange ones. I'll stick out so much anyway, I doubt that orange sandals will make much of a difference. Bwa ha ha.
Official packing begins tomorrow, as I have 99% of what I'm taking sitting on the floor of my room at my parents' house. One large backpack, one medium duffle, and one school-size backpack. These will contain my posessions for my two-year adventure. I highly doubt it'll all weigh anywhere near 80lbs, but I could be sorely mistaken. And I mean that literally, since I'll be toting all of it around.
My biggest dilemma is which pair(s) of Birkenstocks to take. Certainly the "dressy" pair is a given, but I'm not sure between the blue patterned pair and the orange ones. I'll stick out so much anyway, I doubt that orange sandals will make much of a difference. Bwa ha ha.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
An ever-expanding to-do list
I firmly believe one of life's great pleasures is the creation of task lists and the subsequent crossing off of items. It is both cathartic and productive, the two factors by which I measure almost everything in my life.
The pre-departure list for the Peace Corps, as one may imagine, is lengthy and prone to additions. I just found out today that among my extremely-specific list of 20 or so things (besides the obvious ones like moving out of my apartment), I have to get a H1N1 vaccine before showing up/"reporting for duty" (the terminology of which freaks me out) in Philadelphia. I thought I was like the lone holdout on this vaccine, and darn it(!), I was successful for so long. I mean, I'm all for vaccines if it's something that could prevent irreparable damage (who could argue against the polio booster we had to get?) but flu-shmu. Whatever, though.
In any case, here are a few lists I've been pondering:
Things I most look forward to:
1. gaining a new family in the PC and in my community in Niger
2. this experience as an all-encompassing personal challenge
3. a slower pace of life with less technology and more focus on people
4. silence (the presence of which is pure conjecture and dependent upon my site placement, but a girl can hope)
5. letter-writing - with my best friend especially. We have a long history of written communication. It's very Austen-esque.
6. learning about plants and animals native to Niger/West Africa and somehow obtaining a friendly stray dog
Things I really, really dread:
1. saying goodbye to said best friend and her partner
2. driving to the airport with my parents. I'm tearing up thinking about it.
3. missing David Gray's Fall tour. I'm sorry, Dave, but if you could tone down your creative juices for the next two years, that'd be most advantageous.
4. No Sunday NY Times. I don't even care how pretentious that makes me sound.
Not sure what else to say, other than onward and upward, which seems like a good way to end any kind of list at all.
The pre-departure list for the Peace Corps, as one may imagine, is lengthy and prone to additions. I just found out today that among my extremely-specific list of 20 or so things (besides the obvious ones like moving out of my apartment), I have to get a H1N1 vaccine before showing up/"reporting for duty" (the terminology of which freaks me out) in Philadelphia. I thought I was like the lone holdout on this vaccine, and darn it(!), I was successful for so long. I mean, I'm all for vaccines if it's something that could prevent irreparable damage (who could argue against the polio booster we had to get?) but flu-shmu. Whatever, though.
In any case, here are a few lists I've been pondering:
Things I most look forward to:
1. gaining a new family in the PC and in my community in Niger
2. this experience as an all-encompassing personal challenge
3. a slower pace of life with less technology and more focus on people
4. silence (the presence of which is pure conjecture and dependent upon my site placement, but a girl can hope)
5. letter-writing - with my best friend especially. We have a long history of written communication. It's very Austen-esque.
6. learning about plants and animals native to Niger/West Africa and somehow obtaining a friendly stray dog
Things I really, really dread:
1. saying goodbye to said best friend and her partner
2. driving to the airport with my parents. I'm tearing up thinking about it.
3. missing David Gray's Fall tour. I'm sorry, Dave, but if you could tone down your creative juices for the next two years, that'd be most advantageous.
4. No Sunday NY Times. I don't even care how pretentious that makes me sound.
Not sure what else to say, other than onward and upward, which seems like a good way to end any kind of list at all.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Pros, cons, and runny babbits
Lots and lots on my mind these past few weeks. Among other things, our office is also moving down the street, so I am packing in both my personal professional lives. Funsies! Not really. It blows chunklets, actually.
Besides saying toodles to everyone I know, I'm particularly sad to leave Evanston/Wilmette, where I've been quite at home for the last seven years. Gillson Park, I will miss our early morning encounters. You were so lovely and made me forget my slight disappointment in remembering, as my friend Scott once put it, that unlike an actual ocean, on the other side of Lake Michigan is.....Michigan. Most of my criteria for deciding whether I'd want to live somewhere (other than the quality of their public library) is the quantity and placement of its tree population and/or overall natural loveliness. Wilmette and Evanston fit that criterion perfectly. I certainly will miss all the rabbits I spotted (and waved to) each morning on the way out to the car, even though I would inevitably always think of the scene from Manon of the Spring when Gerard Depardieu was forced to massively dispose of his pet bunny population after the cistern ran dry.
There is the constant reminder that for everything I'm sad to leave or will miss, I eagerly anticipate something else. For example: Bunnies, no, camels, heck yes. I expect a different kind of beauty in Niger, but one that from all I read promises to be striking and marvelous.
Besides saying toodles to everyone I know, I'm particularly sad to leave Evanston/Wilmette, where I've been quite at home for the last seven years. Gillson Park, I will miss our early morning encounters. You were so lovely and made me forget my slight disappointment in remembering, as my friend Scott once put it, that unlike an actual ocean, on the other side of Lake Michigan is.....Michigan. Most of my criteria for deciding whether I'd want to live somewhere (other than the quality of their public library) is the quantity and placement of its tree population and/or overall natural loveliness. Wilmette and Evanston fit that criterion perfectly. I certainly will miss all the rabbits I spotted (and waved to) each morning on the way out to the car, even though I would inevitably always think of the scene from Manon of the Spring when Gerard Depardieu was forced to massively dispose of his pet bunny population after the cistern ran dry.
There is the constant reminder that for everything I'm sad to leave or will miss, I eagerly anticipate something else. For example: Bunnies, no, camels, heck yes. I expect a different kind of beauty in Niger, but one that from all I read promises to be striking and marvelous.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
On my way, or a brief history of the application process
What a whirlwind - already. The shiny blue packet of excellence (more commonly known as the invitation kit) arrived last Wednesday, just over eight months after my nomination. I promptly tore it open to discover my assignment:
Municipal and Community Development departing July 7th, 2010
Apparently the Nigerien government was completely centralized until about four years ago, so now that there are established municipalities, they need help creating/running non-profit-y type organizations to better meet the needs of community members. Basically government services. And clearly this is excellent for me, given my non-profitiness.
So I am simultaneously thrilled and scared to death. I completed my visa and government passport applications this weekend, though was slightly irked when my mom laughed at my visa photos. Who cares if I'm smirking?
Here, for Peace Corps Applicants of Tomorrow - or other interested parties who wish to be wowed by my patience and vigilance - is my application timeline:
mid-August 2009: submitted online application
August 24, 2009: interview with recruiter at Chicago office. I'm qualified for a few things and am asked to complete skill addenda for health extension, youth development (please God. No!), and business advising. Also instructed to take CLEP French exam to determine if I am proficient enough for west Africa.
Circa September 6th: Passed French proficiency test
September 15, 2009: Nominated for Business Advising in Francophone Africa for July 2010
October 15, 2009: Submitted medical paperwork
December 12, 2009: Medically cleared
March 5, 2010: Legally cleared
First week of May 2010: Am informed, following an email to the placement office, that my file is in preliminary review!
May 14, 2010: Phone call with Placement Officer. Given my non-profit background, she'd like to move me to NGO advising. Delightful, I say!
May 19, 2010: Invitation received via FedEx
May 20,2010: Accepted invitation
May 24, 2010: Emailed aspiration statement and resume to Niger Country Desk.
Municipal and Community Development departing July 7th, 2010
Apparently the Nigerien government was completely centralized until about four years ago, so now that there are established municipalities, they need help creating/running non-profit-y type organizations to better meet the needs of community members. Basically government services. And clearly this is excellent for me, given my non-profitiness.
So I am simultaneously thrilled and scared to death. I completed my visa and government passport applications this weekend, though was slightly irked when my mom laughed at my visa photos. Who cares if I'm smirking?
Here, for Peace Corps Applicants of Tomorrow - or other interested parties who wish to be wowed by my patience and vigilance - is my application timeline:
mid-August 2009: submitted online application
August 24, 2009: interview with recruiter at Chicago office. I'm qualified for a few things and am asked to complete skill addenda for health extension, youth development (please God. No!), and business advising. Also instructed to take CLEP French exam to determine if I am proficient enough for west Africa.
Circa September 6th: Passed French proficiency test
September 15, 2009: Nominated for Business Advising in Francophone Africa for July 2010
October 15, 2009: Submitted medical paperwork
December 12, 2009: Medically cleared
March 5, 2010: Legally cleared
First week of May 2010: Am informed, following an email to the placement office, that my file is in preliminary review!
May 14, 2010: Phone call with Placement Officer. Given my non-profit background, she'd like to move me to NGO advising. Delightful, I say!
May 19, 2010: Invitation received via FedEx
May 20,2010: Accepted invitation
May 24, 2010: Emailed aspiration statement and resume to Niger Country Desk.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)