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.

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!

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.

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.

Packing Tape

I can do a few things well, but properly using packing tape is not one of them.

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.

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.