Care Packages!
This is Kelsey's mom. She was unable to finish her blog and asked me to pass on one more thing when we talked this morning. (She sound great, by the way and enjoyed spending Thanksgiving with other volunteers in Zinder - even with a turkey dinner - of course, they had to kill it to cook it.............)
She wanted to let everyone know that she loves the letters and pictures, emails and facebook messages. If anyone would like to send a care package it is really appreciated and these would be some suggestions. I send the priority mail flat rate boxes. It takes about a month and she does have to pay a little to "pick them up".
Coffee
peanut m&ms - these are the only candy that does not melt
any boxes of meals, like Pad Thai
dvds - newer movies
pictures!!
parmesan cheese
homemade cookies
oreos
crystal light packets to put in water bottles
cookies, brownies, muffin mixes
foil bags of meat (chicken, tuna)
beef jerkey
salsa
travel games
books that you liked
flip flops
good smelling lotion or body wash
inexpensive shirts
letters! they make her day
Thanks to all of you for your prayers, letters, interest in the blog
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
A trifecta of new stuff!
OBAMA DAY!
After talking to people in the States post election, I feel a tinge of regret about not being able to celebrate with everyone. But, being in Africa for this historical event has been rewarding. Don’t worry, I won’t get too political on you but I do want to tell you about my election experiences here. I was able to watch the elections in my market village with all the volunteers in my sub-region. The announcement was made at 5 in the morning here, so we stayed up all night watching CNN election coverage in the house of our dear friend Issuf who agreed to let the Americans crash there literally all night. As it drew nearer and nearer to the end, the excitement was building. Not surprisingly, most people in the Peace Corps are democratic Obama supporters, and many people in our villages are Obama supporters because, “He’s black like us!” or “His dad is from Africa!” However there are those people who pay special attention to the news and have formed legitimate political opinions about these elections. And it’s in these people that hope has begun to spark. I often talk about the joy of Nigeriens; it seems that they are always finding reasons to laugh and smile in situations I find stressful or difficult. But there isn’t much hope here. People have grown accustomed to a hard life, and because they don’t have any bit of hope that things will ever change, things don’t change. As it was announced that Obama had won the election, us Americans were all screaming and crying and hugging and having a jolly good time. I was watching Issuf, and although he doesn’t speak much English and doesn’t fully grasp the historical significance of the first black president, his face slowly lit up with comprehension. He was completely ignoring the chaos we created around him, eyes glued to the TV and slowly raised arm to the fist pump they are so fond of here, saying “Yes!” quietly to himself over and over again. That’s an image I can never forget. Similar reactions awaited me when I returned to my village that morning. Everyone who knew was congratulating me on our election. I had the chance to explain to some of my villagers a quote from his acceptance speech, that I wrote down on a paper that I forgot to bring with me, but it was something about our stories being singular but our future is the same... In my poor Hausa, the best explanation I could come up with was, “It means that even though everyone is different and we have different lives, we all have one hope for a beautiful world.” No matter what your political opinions are or how you voted, no one can deny the beauty of hope sparked in a place previously deemed hopeless. I’m not so naïve to think that Obama will save the world, but to see the American dream affecting the world in a positive way reminds me why I’m here serving my country that I love in this capacity. So, no matter what your personal political opinions, thank you to everyone from Niger, and don’t underestimate our ability to positively affect the world!
My Movie Theatre
I’ve discovered something glorious in my village. It’s a movie theatre. Not quite like the ones in America, seeing as we don’t have electricity or developed buildings in my village, but it’s kind of similar. Because I don’t have electricity, I usually hit the sack pretty early. One can only read by kerosene lantern for so long, you know? And usually at this point in the day my brain is fried from thinking in Hausa all day and I’d love to just curl up on my couch and watch Lord of the Rings. I can’t do that, but I found a pretty cool alternative. I’ve always heard my villagers hooting and hollering at night, and the loud rumble of some indistinct movie playing in the distance, but never actually figured out where it was coming from. Until now. Turns out, after prayer, the men and boys in my village gather at my friend Sani’s house to watch some of the greatest contributions to cinematic art of our time. The TV is powered, like everything else, by a generator. We all gather sitting on mats or our shoes in his yard while people are yelling out, “Buy sugar cane!” or “Buy sesame cakes!” I’ve yet to see a movie in Hausa, and most people don’t understand French, so the language is far from imperative to the whole experience. Their reactions are always lively and absolutely hilarious. It’s like a rowdy sports bar watching WWF, if the people in the sports bar were buying bags of water instead of beer. I love hearing “Ohhh!” every time something exciting happens, cheering and clapping when the protagonist prevails, and the speculations of the plot; “He doesn’t have kindness, she pissed that guy off…” My favorite movie was (like a lot of Nigerien pop culture) from India. I don’t even know what language it was in, and the screen was too blurry to read the English subtitles, but I definitely caught parts of the plot. There was a long lost brother who was found to fight these bad guys who wanted to kill their mom and the kids in the village, and had some girl hostage. But never fear, the brothers overcame the inevitable differences resulting from their separation and destroyed the bad guys again and again, in synchronized, symmetrical fight scenes that so poignantly reinforced their fraternal bond. Did I mention it’s a musical? I spent most of the movie laughing at both it’s ridiculousness and the reactions of my villagers. It’s a good time. Who needs popcorn and comfortable chairs and air conditioning? We’ve got style!
Guess what? I made friends!
There are a lot of wonderful people in my village. There are a lot of different groups I can go sit with and talk with and hang out with, and they are all different enough that I get something unique out of every relationship I’ve made thus far. My comfort zone, my serenity tree if you will, is under the tree right by my house. My friend/ go to guy Hammisu fixes radios in the shade, and there’s usually a group of his friends hanging around doing pretty much nothing. So we sit and make chai tea (nothing like Starbucks, I’ll be all confused when I get back and the chai tastes good and doesn’t come in a shot glass) or play huit Americain, which is the greatest card game of all time. These guys are hilarious. They joke around and tease each other and say mean things that I’m finally beginning to understand. It’s a very comfortable environment and they always put me in a good mood. There’s really no point to this entry, besides to sing the praises of my friends who I really wish you could all meet. The end.
After talking to people in the States post election, I feel a tinge of regret about not being able to celebrate with everyone. But, being in Africa for this historical event has been rewarding. Don’t worry, I won’t get too political on you but I do want to tell you about my election experiences here. I was able to watch the elections in my market village with all the volunteers in my sub-region. The announcement was made at 5 in the morning here, so we stayed up all night watching CNN election coverage in the house of our dear friend Issuf who agreed to let the Americans crash there literally all night. As it drew nearer and nearer to the end, the excitement was building. Not surprisingly, most people in the Peace Corps are democratic Obama supporters, and many people in our villages are Obama supporters because, “He’s black like us!” or “His dad is from Africa!” However there are those people who pay special attention to the news and have formed legitimate political opinions about these elections. And it’s in these people that hope has begun to spark. I often talk about the joy of Nigeriens; it seems that they are always finding reasons to laugh and smile in situations I find stressful or difficult. But there isn’t much hope here. People have grown accustomed to a hard life, and because they don’t have any bit of hope that things will ever change, things don’t change. As it was announced that Obama had won the election, us Americans were all screaming and crying and hugging and having a jolly good time. I was watching Issuf, and although he doesn’t speak much English and doesn’t fully grasp the historical significance of the first black president, his face slowly lit up with comprehension. He was completely ignoring the chaos we created around him, eyes glued to the TV and slowly raised arm to the fist pump they are so fond of here, saying “Yes!” quietly to himself over and over again. That’s an image I can never forget. Similar reactions awaited me when I returned to my village that morning. Everyone who knew was congratulating me on our election. I had the chance to explain to some of my villagers a quote from his acceptance speech, that I wrote down on a paper that I forgot to bring with me, but it was something about our stories being singular but our future is the same... In my poor Hausa, the best explanation I could come up with was, “It means that even though everyone is different and we have different lives, we all have one hope for a beautiful world.” No matter what your political opinions are or how you voted, no one can deny the beauty of hope sparked in a place previously deemed hopeless. I’m not so naïve to think that Obama will save the world, but to see the American dream affecting the world in a positive way reminds me why I’m here serving my country that I love in this capacity. So, no matter what your personal political opinions, thank you to everyone from Niger, and don’t underestimate our ability to positively affect the world!
My Movie Theatre
I’ve discovered something glorious in my village. It’s a movie theatre. Not quite like the ones in America, seeing as we don’t have electricity or developed buildings in my village, but it’s kind of similar. Because I don’t have electricity, I usually hit the sack pretty early. One can only read by kerosene lantern for so long, you know? And usually at this point in the day my brain is fried from thinking in Hausa all day and I’d love to just curl up on my couch and watch Lord of the Rings. I can’t do that, but I found a pretty cool alternative. I’ve always heard my villagers hooting and hollering at night, and the loud rumble of some indistinct movie playing in the distance, but never actually figured out where it was coming from. Until now. Turns out, after prayer, the men and boys in my village gather at my friend Sani’s house to watch some of the greatest contributions to cinematic art of our time. The TV is powered, like everything else, by a generator. We all gather sitting on mats or our shoes in his yard while people are yelling out, “Buy sugar cane!” or “Buy sesame cakes!” I’ve yet to see a movie in Hausa, and most people don’t understand French, so the language is far from imperative to the whole experience. Their reactions are always lively and absolutely hilarious. It’s like a rowdy sports bar watching WWF, if the people in the sports bar were buying bags of water instead of beer. I love hearing “Ohhh!” every time something exciting happens, cheering and clapping when the protagonist prevails, and the speculations of the plot; “He doesn’t have kindness, she pissed that guy off…” My favorite movie was (like a lot of Nigerien pop culture) from India. I don’t even know what language it was in, and the screen was too blurry to read the English subtitles, but I definitely caught parts of the plot. There was a long lost brother who was found to fight these bad guys who wanted to kill their mom and the kids in the village, and had some girl hostage. But never fear, the brothers overcame the inevitable differences resulting from their separation and destroyed the bad guys again and again, in synchronized, symmetrical fight scenes that so poignantly reinforced their fraternal bond. Did I mention it’s a musical? I spent most of the movie laughing at both it’s ridiculousness and the reactions of my villagers. It’s a good time. Who needs popcorn and comfortable chairs and air conditioning? We’ve got style!
Guess what? I made friends!
There are a lot of wonderful people in my village. There are a lot of different groups I can go sit with and talk with and hang out with, and they are all different enough that I get something unique out of every relationship I’ve made thus far. My comfort zone, my serenity tree if you will, is under the tree right by my house. My friend/ go to guy Hammisu fixes radios in the shade, and there’s usually a group of his friends hanging around doing pretty much nothing. So we sit and make chai tea (nothing like Starbucks, I’ll be all confused when I get back and the chai tastes good and doesn’t come in a shot glass) or play huit Americain, which is the greatest card game of all time. These guys are hilarious. They joke around and tease each other and say mean things that I’m finally beginning to understand. It’s a very comfortable environment and they always put me in a good mood. There’s really no point to this entry, besides to sing the praises of my friends who I really wish you could all meet. The end.
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