Thursday, October 27, 2005
Niamey: Full Recovery in Funderland. October 27, 2005
Niger is twice the size of Texas, home to something like 15 million people. The rural areas are neither fertile nor comfortable nor profitable. Ordinarily this would mean that Niamey, the capital city, would be inundated by struggling people who have abandoned their "dead end" outlying villages for the city jackpot. Somehow, this hasn't happened. Roughly 80% of Niger's population lives outside of urban areas; this allows Niamey to present an easy going neighborhood feel. Apart from the market area, traffic is no problem; exceptionally wide sandy roads branch off the paved ribs of the city giving access to residential areas with many healthy shade trees.
Lost and looking for a hotel in these areas, I felt like I was in a sort of theme park or gated community. Down nearly every street were the headquarters of huge NGOs-Save the Children, World Vision, Oxfam, Care, Concern, Tender Feelings, Tearfund, Great Righteousness, UNICEF, Dubious Guilt Assuagement and the others. They have all moved in to spacious and well maintained compounds, formally residential, still very homey. Almost all of the city's copious billboards spoke their messages: People Deserve Food, No to Hunger, Education is for Everyone. Children have the following list of ten rights. You tell 'em. Obviously, the people of Niger have been in need of slogans. It's ingenious! Why hasn't anyone else thought of such functional tools for positive change? Since Niger has the lowest literacy rate in the world, its people should be able to get the point real easily and since they are so empowered it shouldn’t be long before they restructure society and become immune to drought.
In Ada, Ghana we ran into a Niger Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) who shared information about our campaign with Drew Schmenner, a third year PCV in charge of coordinating Peace Corps Niger’s HIV/AIDS initiatives. Almost a month ago, Drew let us know that we were welcome to stay in his house for our time in Niamey. (Accommodation in that city is unusually expensive since it tends to cater to the healthy budget of an aid worker or conference attendee.) We touched base with Drew on our first morning in Niamey and then moved into his living room.
This was the first time on our trip that we have stayed in the private residence of young hospitable westerners. It differed tremendously from Peace Corps hostels that we have occasionally used in that it was not a public space, crowded with people venting frustrated social energies. Drew's house was full of people coming and going to work, while Peace Corps hostels contain volunteers at their most shiftless and idle. Our time in that space was necessary. Somehow Benin had gotten under my skin and pissed me off. Or maybe it was the speed of our traveling recently that threw me into a funk by preventing me from getting any writing done. Or my psychological health is deteriorating. Whatever it was, I recovered. And I recovered, in large part, because it was easy to do so in Drew's house.
A well adjusted and content volunteer can be a wonderful thing. Drew was also situated within a tiny and beautiful web of the tastiest and most varied food we've eaten in a while. A Senegalese woman cooked up immaculate dishes that reminded me of a better Gambia. A couscous mixmaster combined dashes and handfuls from about thirteen different plastic bowls of powders, oils, leaves and sauces to create boo-zu, which is mixed by hand in front of you-by hand is a misleading phrase because its first connotation is artisinal craft of superior quality; I mean for it to conjure up an image of the serving woman's food covered right hand, squishing through my oily couscous mix perhaps twenty times, as if she were kneading it or enjoying the sensation; then handing it to me. I know people who wouldn’t have let their own mothers handle their dinner like that. When someone does that to your food in front of the inevitable gallery of people who have gathered to watch the white man eat street food, one's face must not betray the thoughts: that is so f------ revolting, what does she wipe herself on? Who and what does she touch? I'm going to crap my brains out. Instead one must portray eagerness to consume food; one must don the soft face of someone who feels lucky and grateful. In any case, it contained leaves and vegetables so I went back and had it a few more times.
I have awarded this distinction before, but we were also served the best meat ever. Maybe this meat will hold on to the title a little longer than the others since it was made by a Hausa man. The Hausa people are known across Africa for their butchering skills and their mastery of mixing animals with spices and high temperature. There were also good chips, home made pistachio ice cream, legitimate cheese burgers and passable malt liquor. This stuff was all good budget eating.
Finally, Drew helped me to top up my ipod, which is now bursting at the seams. This was huge, because my collection (following its devastation by Gambian burglars two years ago) was weak on rock. I had to axe some of the less deserving music to make room for titles that Sean, Tuuli and I can all agree upon. We’ve got options now and I had the opportunity to make playlists for all of the countries between here and South Africa. I hadn't originally made lists past Chad, since I assumed that our mission would fail.
Niger is twice the size of Texas, home to something like 15 million people. The rural areas are neither fertile nor comfortable nor profitable. Ordinarily this would mean that Niamey, the capital city, would be inundated by struggling people who have abandoned their "dead end" outlying villages for the city jackpot. Somehow, this hasn't happened. Roughly 80% of Niger's population lives outside of urban areas; this allows Niamey to present an easy going neighborhood feel. Apart from the market area, traffic is no problem; exceptionally wide sandy roads branch off the paved ribs of the city giving access to residential areas with many healthy shade trees.
Lost and looking for a hotel in these areas, I felt like I was in a sort of theme park or gated community. Down nearly every street were the headquarters of huge NGOs-Save the Children, World Vision, Oxfam, Care, Concern, Tender Feelings, Tearfund, Great Righteousness, UNICEF, Dubious Guilt Assuagement and the others. They have all moved in to spacious and well maintained compounds, formally residential, still very homey. Almost all of the city's copious billboards spoke their messages: People Deserve Food, No to Hunger, Education is for Everyone. Children have the following list of ten rights. You tell 'em. Obviously, the people of Niger have been in need of slogans. It's ingenious! Why hasn't anyone else thought of such functional tools for positive change? Since Niger has the lowest literacy rate in the world, its people should be able to get the point real easily and since they are so empowered it shouldn’t be long before they restructure society and become immune to drought.
In Ada, Ghana we ran into a Niger Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) who shared information about our campaign with Drew Schmenner, a third year PCV in charge of coordinating Peace Corps Niger’s HIV/AIDS initiatives. Almost a month ago, Drew let us know that we were welcome to stay in his house for our time in Niamey. (Accommodation in that city is unusually expensive since it tends to cater to the healthy budget of an aid worker or conference attendee.) We touched base with Drew on our first morning in Niamey and then moved into his living room.
This was the first time on our trip that we have stayed in the private residence of young hospitable westerners. It differed tremendously from Peace Corps hostels that we have occasionally used in that it was not a public space, crowded with people venting frustrated social energies. Drew's house was full of people coming and going to work, while Peace Corps hostels contain volunteers at their most shiftless and idle. Our time in that space was necessary. Somehow Benin had gotten under my skin and pissed me off. Or maybe it was the speed of our traveling recently that threw me into a funk by preventing me from getting any writing done. Or my psychological health is deteriorating. Whatever it was, I recovered. And I recovered, in large part, because it was easy to do so in Drew's house.
A well adjusted and content volunteer can be a wonderful thing. Drew was also situated within a tiny and beautiful web of the tastiest and most varied food we've eaten in a while. A Senegalese woman cooked up immaculate dishes that reminded me of a better Gambia. A couscous mixmaster combined dashes and handfuls from about thirteen different plastic bowls of powders, oils, leaves and sauces to create boo-zu, which is mixed by hand in front of you-by hand is a misleading phrase because its first connotation is artisinal craft of superior quality; I mean for it to conjure up an image of the serving woman's food covered right hand, squishing through my oily couscous mix perhaps twenty times, as if she were kneading it or enjoying the sensation; then handing it to me. I know people who wouldn’t have let their own mothers handle their dinner like that. When someone does that to your food in front of the inevitable gallery of people who have gathered to watch the white man eat street food, one's face must not betray the thoughts: that is so f------ revolting, what does she wipe herself on? Who and what does she touch? I'm going to crap my brains out. Instead one must portray eagerness to consume food; one must don the soft face of someone who feels lucky and grateful. In any case, it contained leaves and vegetables so I went back and had it a few more times.
I have awarded this distinction before, but we were also served the best meat ever. Maybe this meat will hold on to the title a little longer than the others since it was made by a Hausa man. The Hausa people are known across Africa for their butchering skills and their mastery of mixing animals with spices and high temperature. There were also good chips, home made pistachio ice cream, legitimate cheese burgers and passable malt liquor. This stuff was all good budget eating.
Finally, Drew helped me to top up my ipod, which is now bursting at the seams. This was huge, because my collection (following its devastation by Gambian burglars two years ago) was weak on rock. I had to axe some of the less deserving music to make room for titles that Sean, Tuuli and I can all agree upon. We’ve got options now and I had the opportunity to make playlists for all of the countries between here and South Africa. I hadn't originally made lists past Chad, since I assumed that our mission would fail.
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