Hi All,
Running in Niamey is an experience that I feel I need to share. While Deb was here for her wonderful week in September, it occurred to me that what I take for ordinary might make fun reading for our friends and family far away from this oven we call home.
So, first, there is the heat. I suppose that goes without saying and believe it or not, it's the easiest thing to get used to. Running is generally the first obvious exercise for anyone with decent knees and minimal equipment. Let me sing my praises of running in general. If you don't do it, and you could, then you should. It'll change your life.
To begin, I pick out the right running clothes, not just any clothes, but comfortable, "culturally appropriate" clothes that make me glad I don't own a full length mirror. Yes, it is difficult to knowingly don something you know is ugly, but ugly can be your friend sometimes too. Then, I set my ipod to the same running mix and hit "shuffle" with things like Mambo #5, Online, I kissed a Girl, Je t'emmene and many others just to make the experience as surreal as humanly possible.
I could be a walking (or running:) advertisement for the nike+ running chip which measures speed and distance, and records this info on your ipod to upload to the computer for further obsessing.
So, armed and ready, I head out. My current favorite loop is four miles. I think of it as four separate segments. First, I start along the main road where I am accosted by smells of sewage, frying mini millet pancakes, fresh meat and car exhaust. I usually get a few kids to race along next to me during this stretch.
About a mile later I pass the "Camping Touristique" a vacant lot that has been walled for tourist camping- yup, western nuts camp there right inside city limits. Not sure I'd do it now, but I might've if I'd been here ten years ago. There I leave the paved road and make a left onto a sandy track that is as wide as a four lane highway- which 4X4's drive like it is. This is the toughest part, since it's dry sand and not packed very well. I'm always relieved to finish the second mile and enter phase three at the American Embassy. Don't even look at the embassy as you go by, the guards will hiss at you if you stop. Americans are by far the most neurotic people in the world. I mean, I guess my ipod could be a bomb, but really?
After the embassy is a beautifully shaded, tree lined road with sporadic views of the river. Of course you do run through a herd of cows and a garbage dump, but it's all part of the experience. As I run through embassy row, and yes they are all on the same street, I always get lots of encouragement, which is great, because in the third mile is when I need it most. "Du Courage!" yell the embassy guards and the armed police. Whew! I'm a marathoner! Then I clear all the officials in uniforms and I'm in the home stretch. I usually end it right at the terrifying intersection near my house. Don't want any distractions trying to cross against the broken lights.
And I love it. It's funny, I often think of my friend in Peace Corps who said "I was riding my bike into the market today and thought, 'who wouldn't want to be here? This is paradise.' Then I remembered I'd had to stop early in the ride to have diarrhea behind a tree and wipe with a leaf." I guess maybe it's not for everybody and it's not always pretty, but there is certainly joy in it.
Love to All.
