Niger

Niger
Millet Fields in Rainy Season

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Rama-dunzo.

Yesterday was the last day of fasting and today was a big party across the whole country. The market yesterday was the biggest and most crowded I've seen since we've been here. There were tomatoes and peppers, squash and sugarcane, bananas and ginger! The market was so big and so well stocked that I actually found a pair of flip-flops that fit me. After two full months of earnest searching. They happen to be made of denim on regular rubber soles, with fluffy white and blue patches on the straps. I also happen to believe that I was fated to buy them. People have been saving up for months to buy new outfits for themselves and their children in order to properly get down at this day-long feast. Prices at the market were a little high and bargaining was mostly futile. My sandals were 1000CFA, two dollars. A great deal. Fate, I say.
One often sees very small children dressed in wonderful clothes, scaled appropriately from the adult models. There is something very peculiar that happens in your brain when you see small children dressed in miniature models of adult clothing. I think it's a similar thing to seeing a nice-looking (preferably small) dog dressed in a T-shirt and hat. The human mind adores these unique phenomena. Why, I ask? Though I can safely say that no dogs, or cats, wear coats...even in the coldest weather.
Along the same lines of cultural compairson, women here carry babies on their backs secured with a 1x2 meter stretch of fabric wraped around the child and tuck-tied in the front. A fellow volunteer has pictures of her sister with her new baby. Within these pictures is one of her sister with a fancy-shmancy baby carrier with straps and buckles, et cetera. The young girls laugh and ask us sincerely if there is something wrong with the baby that he needs so much...support. We all laugh and then talk about how much it costs, and we laugh again. 20 dollars would be a bargain for one of those baby carriers, and 20 dollars what most village families make in a year. Also children tend to complain, cry, and whine much less that children in the states or say, as did I when I was a child. I have much more anecdotal research to analyze about this family dynamic. Stay tuned.

Journey

There once was a volunteer in Niger,
Who arrived with some clothes and a lair,
He then trained on the rock,
And decided to transfer to Marocc,
And then he left with Amoebas.

A poem by Daouda D. Former PCV