This week's highlights

Hello All and happy quatorze juillet!



First, I appologize for burying myself in Love in the Time of Cholera and for avoiding almost all internet usage for the past couple of weeks. I might say I didn't feel well, or that I put all my energy into settling into our new house, or into settling Karim into school, or the plain truth is just that I couldn't scrape together the wit and inspiration necessary to intrigue you all with tales of insane taxi drivers, flooding green sewers or the most incredible mangoes on earth, but I feel up to the task now, so here I am.



So, road insanity first. On our way to Cocochouland last week, Karim and I witnessed the motorcycle crash we've seen narrowly averted a thousand times since we arrived. As K and I crossed the street, we let a moto pass in front of us (we don't even joke about right of way here!) only to watch that same moto collide with a moto coming from the left. This was an intersection with a light, mind you. And yet, I still don't know who had the green or if it was even working. Believe it or not, it is actually safer to jaywalk here- then at least you only have to look two ways! So, K and I watched, a little shaken up, but morbidly intrigued, as both riders staggered to the side of the road, bikes abandoned in the middle of the intersection. No helmets, flip flops on their feet- but they walked and that was a relief. Cheikh has diverted his rants from SUV's in Ptld to all drivers in Niamey. They are our single greatest fear. We just watch and wonder as they cut each other off, accelerate when a pedestrian steps into the road and drive way too fast generally.



In spite of all this, or because of it, I am pursuing a Nigerien Drivers License. It's all I can not to ask how I can possibly take a driving test here where nobody obeys traffic laws and signals may or may not work. I am going to go to a local driving school so they can prep me for it, since they do apparently have laws and those laws are somewhat different than they are in the states. I guess the process is not too cumbersome as long as I manage to pass the tests- both written and driving in French and on crazy roads. I'll channel you, Rosella!



On Saturday, K and I attended our first birthday party last weekend for a little German baby turning one. It was a lot of fun- lots of parents and kids and German party games. Karim enjoyed playing with all the other kids with punch balloons and a Nemo ball. But, the highlight for him was either chasing the other kids barefoot around the yard or cramming a whole brownie in his mouth before I could stop him. No harm done though, since the party wore him out enough for him to sleep at night.



Cheikh came home from Agadez with some great stories and some sad ones about a strangled tourism trade in a place famous for desert excursions. He rode in an armed caravan, with three armored trucks strategically spaced among the 40 or so vehicles making the trip. He said that the average pace was about 120km/hr and if a car couldn't keep up, then too bad. It's the only safe way to travel on the road from Taoua to Agadez, so they took the plane back to Niamey on their return trip. Cheikh was disturbed to learn that REI sells travel sheets, but that I'd been too cheap to buy them, since in his first hotel he'd been forced to cover the bed with his excercise clothes in order to stomach lying on whatever the stains were on the mattress. He confided later that he suspected the hotel rents by the hour.



Last week I got over my timidity out of sheer desperation to find a kid for K to play with in our neighborhood since now he's only going to school three days a week. So, I took him across the street and knocked on our neighbors' door. Their grandson, Hamir, is 5 years old and although I'm told he speaks French in addition to his native Djerma, all I've gotten from him is a whispered "ca va." So, armed with car noises, he and Karim spend lots of time either in our courtyard on in from of our house playing with Karim's cars or Hamir's soccer ball.

a few hours later. . . I just got home from a much needed Appreciation Walk. I used to take them at sunset in Kouna- just walk and think about all the things that I enjoy. I started with simple things, the way the sun looks on the clouds, the feel on warm wind on my skin, sandals all year, then as I walked, more and more things came to me and I found myself walking through a village. Not too far from our house, the cement walled compounds give way to mud brick houses along muddy roads. These roads spilled over with life. Kids rolling tires, a barefoot toddler dancing by a milk crate. The soccer field brimmed with bodies of every age from men on teams to kids kicking half flattened soccer balls. Everyone smiled and greeted me when I passed, though I heard them saying "Anasara" every other word. Of course, Gao familiarized me with the Songhay/Djerma word for whitey. It was all I understood:) Although there is nothing glorious about dirty streets and bloated baby bellies, the smiles that lit up the faces before me touched my heart and made me smile too.

Well, it's Wednesday morning now, almost 24hrs after I tried to load the video of our house, so I am officially abandoning it, since it failed to load. I will try another video tonight.

Love to all.