14 avril 2011
Run with the pup this morning. We get a little bit farther every day. As we're strolling back, I see a little naked boy ahead in the road walking away from us. Ashia slowly walks up behind him...and I can tell already that this is not going to be good. She is the same height as the boy and he turns towards her when she reaches him. The boy screams and starts running away. Ashia thinks he's playing so she runs after him. So he screams more and runs faster. I yell "kay! kay! no! no!" to Ashia and call her towards me, but she's still chasing after boy. Naked boy trips and falls and gets dirt all over himself. Ashia jumps over him and continues to run around. I'm still yelling "kay! kay". I approach the boy to pick him up. He sees me and starts screaming more. He doesn't seem to know what he's terrified of more- puppy or large white person. He picks himself up and runs even faster away. Trips again. Dust all over himself again. By this time, there is a crowd of children laughing and watching. A woman, most likely the boy's mother, shows up to collect her dust child. She's laughing. "Desole, sorry", I keep saying. Ashia and I walk home. Morale of the story: I need to learn the word for desole in fulfulde and dii.
I told Essaya today that I want to get sick. Knock on wood, I've been in this country nearly two months, and the inevitable has not yet occurred. The first time getting sick is always the first, so I just want it to hurry up and happen now before I get going with teaching and health projects. Essaya said he thinks it's possible for me to not get sick for the two years. That would be a miracle. Ashia ate a dead mouse yesterday. And cow poop. And I pet her everyday. As I said, it would be a miracle, possibly even weird, if I don't get sick.
So I'm good friends with one family in my neighborhood. But one of the girls in the family is always asking me for things. Which is fine; I am used to this. But today she asked me for food three times. Like no. You guys have more food in your house than I do. You are not starving. Stop asking me for eggs just because you see that I am giving them to my dog. So tonight, during time #3 of asking me for eggs, I asked her why she always asks me for things. And I told her that it really isn't ok, and that I have never asked her for anything so why does she think it's okay to do that to me? And she said it is because I have everything....and then papa bear came home so we stopped chatting about it for awhile. And after he left, she said that when she asks for things, she is just joking. Do I have everything? Ok, maybe I have a motorcycle helmet, a cool pair of pants, a bike, and a stove. But I don't have a family here. Or a group of friends like she has. Or food that I grew during the rainy season. Or the knowledge of life here and the language. I may have more material things, but I do not have every "thing".
Some fun stats
Song stuck in my head: DJ caught us falling in love again - Usher
Number of students in my first English class: 15
Number of students on list supposedly to be in the English class: 61
Fresh mangoes eaten out en brousse today: 3
Number of cockroaches killed today: 0
Eggs eaten by Ashia and I in the last 48 hours: 8
17 avril 2011
So something happened today...and it made me take a step back. Essaya and I left their family house after we'd eaten lunch in the early afternoon to talk to someone in town about an upcoming event, and we moto-ed back two hours later. During that time, Essaya's daughter, Josephine made some croquettes (the amazzzing little biscuits that I purchase daily from Rose). Essaya's son, Moussa (who happens to be left-handed just like me, he's the only one in the fam who is, obvi we're buds) was helping Josephine. She gave him a pot of boiling oil to bring into the house. He tripped on the stairs into the house and the oil spilled on the left side of his face. It looked really awful. His eye wasn't burnt, but was swollen shut and the whole side of his face was white from where the skin has fallen off. Essaya and Rose were upset with Josephine and yelling at her because she had given him the scalding oil to carry. I asked Rose if we could take him into the city for a skin graft. She laughed. It wasn't bad enough for that.
I was talking with Essaya the following day as we were examining the wound. They had put betadine and honey on it. Essaya said "isn't that awful....that Josephine". I told him it's just too bad because his life was changed yesterday. He will have scars on his face for the rest of his life. "Really? He will have marks for always", Essaya asked me. Of course, I said. He is still growing and the skin on his face is very fragile.
Later, I was thinking about Moussa. During the two hours that Essaya and I were gone for a meeting, his life changed. A physical change that will be with him for his entire life. Something that everyone will see. But what about the changes that happen to us that we don't necessarily see? With a scar, it is easy to identify the cause and pain behind it. But what about emotional changes that stay with us that aren't apparent to everyone else? On January 12th, I received a call from the Peace Corps Niger bureau telling me to pack up my bags and be in my regional capital the following day; because I was being evacuated from the country. Since that day, so much has happened. So much has changed. But yet, where are my scars from this life-altering event? I am still healing from the transition, but only I know the change and only I can feel the scar from this change in my life.
Ashia and I went on a nice long walk this past Saturday afternoon. We went out on the path the farthest I've been so far. On the walk back, we passed some beautiful mango trees. I'd seen kids climb them before, so I thought why not? When is the last time I have climbed a tree? It was crazy difficult but so worth it. I was a little freaked out too because the last time I tried to climb a mango tree, a spider crawled on me, and I was like heckkkk no to that. But I just told myself to come to terms with the fact that a spider will crawl on me and that I'll just have to deal with it. So I got up into the tree after three attempts or so (one with sneakers, one with just socks, barefeet, then back to sneaks), and maneuvered my way through the branches. A mango tree is very deceiving because, from the outside, there is more fruit than the eye can take in. But once in the interior of the tree, it is difficult to tell with all the leaves exactly where the fruit is hiding. But I found some. And almost fell out of the tree. They don't call it forbidden fruit for nothing, right? It's fine though, just a few scratches. I jumped down and stuffed my pockets with the juicy fruit that I'd thrown to the ground. When I was picking up the fruit, I noticed a tiny spidey on my arm :). Then pup and I walked on home.
Run with the pup this morning. We get a little bit farther every day. As we're strolling back, I see a little naked boy ahead in the road walking away from us. Ashia slowly walks up behind him...and I can tell already that this is not going to be good. She is the same height as the boy and he turns towards her when she reaches him. The boy screams and starts running away. Ashia thinks he's playing so she runs after him. So he screams more and runs faster. I yell "kay! kay! no! no!" to Ashia and call her towards me, but she's still chasing after boy. Naked boy trips and falls and gets dirt all over himself. Ashia jumps over him and continues to run around. I'm still yelling "kay! kay". I approach the boy to pick him up. He sees me and starts screaming more. He doesn't seem to know what he's terrified of more- puppy or large white person. He picks himself up and runs even faster away. Trips again. Dust all over himself again. By this time, there is a crowd of children laughing and watching. A woman, most likely the boy's mother, shows up to collect her dust child. She's laughing. "Desole, sorry", I keep saying. Ashia and I walk home. Morale of the story: I need to learn the word for desole in fulfulde and dii.
I told Essaya today that I want to get sick. Knock on wood, I've been in this country nearly two months, and the inevitable has not yet occurred. The first time getting sick is always the first, so I just want it to hurry up and happen now before I get going with teaching and health projects. Essaya said he thinks it's possible for me to not get sick for the two years. That would be a miracle. Ashia ate a dead mouse yesterday. And cow poop. And I pet her everyday. As I said, it would be a miracle, possibly even weird, if I don't get sick.
So I'm good friends with one family in my neighborhood. But one of the girls in the family is always asking me for things. Which is fine; I am used to this. But today she asked me for food three times. Like no. You guys have more food in your house than I do. You are not starving. Stop asking me for eggs just because you see that I am giving them to my dog. So tonight, during time #3 of asking me for eggs, I asked her why she always asks me for things. And I told her that it really isn't ok, and that I have never asked her for anything so why does she think it's okay to do that to me? And she said it is because I have everything....and then papa bear came home so we stopped chatting about it for awhile. And after he left, she said that when she asks for things, she is just joking. Do I have everything? Ok, maybe I have a motorcycle helmet, a cool pair of pants, a bike, and a stove. But I don't have a family here. Or a group of friends like she has. Or food that I grew during the rainy season. Or the knowledge of life here and the language. I may have more material things, but I do not have every "thing".
Some fun stats
Song stuck in my head: DJ caught us falling in love again - Usher
Number of students in my first English class: 15
Number of students on list supposedly to be in the English class: 61
Fresh mangoes eaten out en brousse today: 3
Number of cockroaches killed today: 0
Eggs eaten by Ashia and I in the last 48 hours: 8
first big rain of the year :)
17 avril 2011
So something happened today...and it made me take a step back. Essaya and I left their family house after we'd eaten lunch in the early afternoon to talk to someone in town about an upcoming event, and we moto-ed back two hours later. During that time, Essaya's daughter, Josephine made some croquettes (the amazzzing little biscuits that I purchase daily from Rose). Essaya's son, Moussa (who happens to be left-handed just like me, he's the only one in the fam who is, obvi we're buds) was helping Josephine. She gave him a pot of boiling oil to bring into the house. He tripped on the stairs into the house and the oil spilled on the left side of his face. It looked really awful. His eye wasn't burnt, but was swollen shut and the whole side of his face was white from where the skin has fallen off. Essaya and Rose were upset with Josephine and yelling at her because she had given him the scalding oil to carry. I asked Rose if we could take him into the city for a skin graft. She laughed. It wasn't bad enough for that.
I was talking with Essaya the following day as we were examining the wound. They had put betadine and honey on it. Essaya said "isn't that awful....that Josephine". I told him it's just too bad because his life was changed yesterday. He will have scars on his face for the rest of his life. "Really? He will have marks for always", Essaya asked me. Of course, I said. He is still growing and the skin on his face is very fragile.
Later, I was thinking about Moussa. During the two hours that Essaya and I were gone for a meeting, his life changed. A physical change that will be with him for his entire life. Something that everyone will see. But what about the changes that happen to us that we don't necessarily see? With a scar, it is easy to identify the cause and pain behind it. But what about emotional changes that stay with us that aren't apparent to everyone else? On January 12th, I received a call from the Peace Corps Niger bureau telling me to pack up my bags and be in my regional capital the following day; because I was being evacuated from the country. Since that day, so much has happened. So much has changed. But yet, where are my scars from this life-altering event? I am still healing from the transition, but only I know the change and only I can feel the scar from this change in my life.
Ashia and I went on a nice long walk this past Saturday afternoon. We went out on the path the farthest I've been so far. On the walk back, we passed some beautiful mango trees. I'd seen kids climb them before, so I thought why not? When is the last time I have climbed a tree? It was crazy difficult but so worth it. I was a little freaked out too because the last time I tried to climb a mango tree, a spider crawled on me, and I was like heckkkk no to that. But I just told myself to come to terms with the fact that a spider will crawl on me and that I'll just have to deal with it. So I got up into the tree after three attempts or so (one with sneakers, one with just socks, barefeet, then back to sneaks), and maneuvered my way through the branches. A mango tree is very deceiving because, from the outside, there is more fruit than the eye can take in. But once in the interior of the tree, it is difficult to tell with all the leaves exactly where the fruit is hiding. But I found some. And almost fell out of the tree. They don't call it forbidden fruit for nothing, right? It's fine though, just a few scratches. I jumped down and stuffed my pockets with the juicy fruit that I'd thrown to the ground. When I was picking up the fruit, I noticed a tiny spidey on my arm :). Then pup and I walked on home.
Sunset in village
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