Human Rescue Plan

Fight World Hunger

Saturday, July 19, 2008

An Update!

First, and possibly most importantly, I've uploaded a few more pictures. Check the right side of the screen. Now, for the news...

So, I'm currently in Maradi, working on the INRAN computers to make them not suck (who the hell still uses Yahoo? Or Exploder? Or...you get my point). We actually ended up having to reinstall Windows on the machine I'm working on now, so I'm enjoying having a not entirely sucky computer to play with for free, if I don't mind having bugs fall on my head from getting too close to the light directly above me (it's gross, but hell, it's free internet...) I'll post another bit probably about current life after Monday (maybe before if I have kokari but I doubt it) regarding what's currently going on in my life and how I'm beginning to be convinced our CD doesn't want me to be the happiest ever in the whole wide world at a later date, but right now, Mom was kind enough to send me the text of my latest missive to the parents all nice and typed so I don't have to, so I can share it with you. Enjoy.

June 8, 2008 – Huddled inside my house – village, Niger

Hi! I’m currently crosslegged on a hastily assembled bed with my lone kitten, Ghanima, in my lap, listening to the horrendous dust storm outside, which I hope will pay back our suffering (our sha-ing of wahalla, as it were) with some much-needed rain. Ghanima is not a fan of the thunder and so has forgiven me for tying her up. They do not make kittens cute so you won’t kill them, they make them cute so won’t just say “*%!# it” when they go out into the storm and try to kill themselves. That I gave her the bones from the market meat may also have aided our reconciliation. We had a storm like this at IST; Krista got some fantastic video, if she ever gets it posted on the slow connection, I’ll let you know. Albq’s got nothing on Niger. While the sun was up, the sky, as far as I could see (i.e. barely to my wall), was blood red.

June 10, 2008 (continued—light went wonky)

Well, unfortunately, the storm brought precious little rain so we couldn’t plant. I’m getting more than a little worried but hope springs eternal here in the form of carving a channel in my yard and a hole in my wall for the water to escape, lest it be flooded when it finally gets here. I may have early-maturing (short growth cycle) seeds to plant, but the water better get here soon or they won’t help me much. Yesterday was crazy busy. First, sat all morning with the host-dad and host-brother (Issaka and Abdu-Khadere) drinking tea in my pajamas and listening to my CD player piped through Khadere’s boombox speaker (he fixes electronics; if I understand, darma=solder). This is after I pounded nails in my wall with the handle of my short hoe (kwashe) to hang my pots and used almost an entire one of the small duct tape rolls to cover my tables securely with oilcloth (purple with snowflakish pattern). Oh, and laundering my skirt for meeting, reassembling my bed and sweeping a ton and a half of dirt from my house after the storm. Then lunch and shower (and disturbing hair loss, though I’m still far from bald). Then prepping for the meeting—going over vocab and seeds, etc. Then I sat and shelled peanuts while I waited for the women to come – all 5 of them and an hour late. Meeting proceeded, got seeds dispersed and scheduled the next five meetings – one a day for the next four days, divided into old men, old women, young men, young women – to do a needs assessment with each group before reconvening next week. Kind of silly as I can almost guarantee they all want a water pump and tower, but forms must be obeyed. Then I can go into Maradi and start trying to figure out how to get it done (no clue, but I know who to ask first). Then you called. Hope you guys had fun in Greece (& Lithuania). Then home to watch Issaka & company toss mud balls around—I helped! They’re closing the roof on a new room—all rooms are open to a central courtyard and use the mud to protect the underlying plastic sheeting (old grain and cement bags) from sun damage. Then dinner, then over to charge my phone, a story in itself. One of village residents works in Maradi most of the time. He brought out a generator, DVD player and TV and let me and others charge our phones gratis, while we watched Hausa music videos and part of a Bruce Lee film. As for the first, allow me to say that waterboarding is an insufficient punishment for whomever introduced Nigeria (from which all music videos come) to BoyzIIMen, home videos, voice modulation tech (used here to up all female vocals by at least two octaves) and the volume up button (I live 2 “blocks” away and could hear just fine). The Bruce Lee one (Fists of Fury?) was fun, once I showed them how to put English subtitles on so I could translate. They got bored with not hearing Hausa (Chinese audio only), and we only watched maybe 10 minutes—short attention span, especially when no one was fighting. Now I’m sitting on my mat outside, prepping for today’s meeting and resisting the urge to blow off work and read more of Ahab’s Wife (finished Time Traveler’s Wife a few days ago—both very good.) instead while I wait to see if my gardens will get built today or not and whether Laurent, our PC doctor, will make it here today on his annual tour. He’s fun, very French. Has a very laid-back approach, unless we’re actually dying at that moment. May ask him about my hair…Out of room, so now to work, Love M

June 19, 2008

So, surprise, surprise, each group chose a water tower as what they want more—can’t blame them as it’s at least 66 meters to the water table and the pump breaks frequently. I’m heading into Maradi tomorrow, a bit earlier than planned, to get a bunch of big stuff. I want two rondas and a watering can and other things that would be a pain to get back on a bush taxi. There’s a shuttle on the 22nd that will take it all for me. Plus, it keeps me from screaming at Hausa women. I swear this country is turning me into a misogynist. The women, with some few wonderful exceptions, drive me nuts. They don’t want progress. They just want handouts. Give me money, give me food, give me, give me, give me. The men are great—they ask for stuff, don’t get me wrong, but when I explain that I’m here to help them help themselves, they usually get it. Sort of case in point: All 4 groups picked a water tower. The young women were the only ones who didn’t even consider a school. Babies and pounding millet. Give me, give me. On a more pleasant note, my gardens are in—they take over most of my yard, but I don’t mind. I planted all the seeds from Gardener’s Guild and am now waiting to see what grows. So far, the beans and squash are up, the basil’s coming along, and I think I’ve got some tiny tomatoes and peppers (don’t think they’re weeds?). I’ve upped my water request and the money. (It’s a whopping 4000F or $10) so that they’ll bring me two huge kettles in excess of my daily gerka (old plastic oil container), well worth it. Pulling water or using the foot pump is all well and good, but I’d never get anything else done. I feel vaguely like a celestial power, but console myself I’m paying more than market value (by 1000F) for my water, and I’ll be sharing the produce. I also brought moringa (H: zogala or tamakka) seeds. It’s supposed to be a miracle tree—high protein and vitamins and grows fast as long as it has water. We’re trying to plant it first in old dumas—the gourds they use to make calabashes (H:koriya) to prove you don’t need plastic bags—sort of a proof of sustainability. Back to the Hausa women. I gave each woman one at the close of the big meeting, and they tried to get 2 or 3 or… And I didn’t have enough, but they kept at it so I told them they could have 1 or 0. Then they totally ignored the men making a report on what World Vision is doing in the area with their sponsorship program. It’s like they are deliberately choosing ignorance. Thankfully, my program is primarily working with the men or I’d go mad. At least I know it’s not just me—most of us find the women ridiculously frustrating to work with. Will be glad to get into Maradi, talk with Ousamane and Becca about the project, hit the market and the tailor for some more skirts with pockets and, hopefully, still have time for the pool somewhere in there. It’s bloody hot and humid, and it still hasn’t rained enough for us to plant. I hear it’s flooding elsewhere and wish we could find a way to get those clouds here. We were all excited for about five minutes this morning, but the rain was a no-go. Definitely not a good thing. We’re really going to need short-season improved varieties, if this keeps up—the rains are at least a month late, from the sound of it. When Dr. Laurent came for his annual site check and asked about stress, that was my concern—that the rains wouldn’t come soon enough, and the hunger here would be so great, and I’d be the only one with food and know even if I gave them everything, they’d still starve. If that happened, I’d probably be wack-evacced (evacuated for mental health reasons), so I’m really hoping it doesn’t come to that. Hence the garden and the moringas and the consistent prayers to whatever powers there be, that the rains get their act together soon. And now to mail this. Really.

Love, Marika