Blog #10 from Galmi, Niger, West Africa (#1-9 below this blog)
I’m really ready to come home but we have six more days left. At night I’ve been getting in bed telling myself, “one more day down.” It saddens me to feel this way because I know it’s very selfish and whimpy, but I want my own bed, I want to open a closet door without being worried a lizard or a spider will be in there, I want my own bathroom and a clean house (OK, my house isn’t that clean, but it doesn’t get as dusty and dirty as this house gets). I’m tired of feeling hot, dirty and stinky. I’m tired of feeling sweat trickling down my back or dripping into my eyes. I’m just plain tired.
To all the mothers: Do you know those times when you go to bed at night and tell yourself, “Today I was a good mom”? I’ve been crying a lot lately because I haven’t had one of those days since I’ve been here. I am extremely impatient and grumpy with the boys and have so little energy that even playing with them is difficult. And the last thing I want to do is cuddle with one of them on my lap because of the heat.
Ben goes to work at the hospital and everyone loves him – he’s the “hero” – he is helping people and doing what he loves in a country that desperately needs doctors. I, however, am doing the exact same thing that I do at home – taking care of the house and children – and I’m not doing it well. Locals and other missionaries thank me for coming. Thank you? For what?! I’m not contributing anything. My “job” doesn’t matter, except to Ben and the boys, and I’m failing. Yesterday Ben walked in from work and I had just sat down and begun to cry. It’s a constant struggle trying to keep my spirits up and I’m not doing that well either.
Please – I don’t want a bunch of emails telling me, “Oh Carrie, you’re a good mother…etc.” I haven’t been and I’m not looking for pats on the back – I’m trying to tell you my reality – my heart.
I just want to go home and be a good mom. Maybe I’ll be a better mom because of this experience. I don’t know. I do know God called our family here (after all, He provided Kit Kat bars and Bounty paper towels) and I know God has a plan for my life. People tell me that true peace comes when you’re in the center of God’s will for your life. Ben has peace, I don’t. Does that mean I’m not supposed to be here? No, I don’t believe that at all. I need God’s peace in my life, a “peace that passes all understanding.” (“Then God's peace, which goes beyond anything we can imagine, will guard your thoughts and emotions through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7)
Thank you for reading my blog and for allowing me to be completely honest.
Lizard update: I think the lizard I “caught” recognizes me – there is one lizard that's been glaring at me and I think it's him. He is about 8 inches long but almost became a 2 by 4! I get woozy every time I think of it.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Lizard Mishap and Introductions
Blog #9 from Galmi, Niger, West Africa (#1-8 below this blog)
Our three boys were playing with a local child this morning when I had a very close encounter with a lizard. Rasheed noticed an 8-inch lizard caught between the closed bedroom window and the screen, so I took it upon myself to free him. In order to free the lizard, I had to quickly open the little “doggie door” in the screen and push open the window. I cautiously opened the screen and as quickly as possible I pushed open the window. However, the lizard was faster than me! It jumped toward the open screen “door” just as I slammed it shut pinning the lizard in the door! I’m screaming and shivering all at the same time (I might add that this is the first time I’ve shivered at 100 degrees Fahrenheit). There is the lizard – half it’s body inside my bedroom and the other half hanging out the screen door. I knew if I slammed the screen down hard, I’d cut the lizard in half and I sure didn’t want this mess, plus, I didn’t want to traumatize my audience too much. But, if I let go of the screen I’d have a lizard in the bedroom. Screaming, I told the four kids to go get help, but I knew my three boys didn’t know where to go so I, in my best “sign language” told Rasheed to go get help – “go get a man,” I said as I gestured for him to go get someone tall. All four boys went running out of the house while I precariously held the screen closed (not too tight, but not too loose). Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was probably only 60 seconds, in walked my Hausa Hero! Laughing, he grabbed the lizard by the neck (as the lizard opened his mouth like he would bite if he had teeth!) and took him outside – where lizards belong! Ten minutes later Ben came down the walk and all four kids went running to tell him the story of Mom and the lizard mishap. Rasheed doesn’t speak a lick of English, but he watched and understood the entire retelling of the story about the white lady and her lizard.
Now on to goats: I saw another goat going at high-speeds, but not on a van – this time a passenger on the back of a motorcycle was holding it. “Gee, the Nigeriens must really be attached to their goats,” I thought. Then I asked a local about the importance of goats – they EAT them! And all along I thought they were traveling with the family pet.
Yesterday I bought raw beef from the back of a motorcycle – at least that’s what they told me it was! There is very little refrigeration available, so the cow is slaughtered in the morning and then the man on the motorcycle drives around the SIM compound selling beef. We don’t get to choose a chuck roast or a steak – it’s just “beef.”
I got to go to the market again yesterday. “Everyone wants to say hello to the white man.” My escort didn’t need to tell me, it was quite obvious. Some children wanted to touch me and others were afraid and went running when I said, “sannu” (hello). Now, if being white was not enough to attract stares, I managed with all my grace and charm, to trip on a rock and almost fall on my face. Thank God I was able to save myself from a complete fall, but not from total embarrassment.
The markets are very much like one of our farmer’s markets where vendors sell everything from food and drinks, to clothing and perfume. However, one “booth” caught my eye in particular because from it I heard the cries of a baby. I glanced over very briefly to see a man with a knife cutting small marks into a baby’s cheek. My escort, Rahilla, and I quickly walked away. She explained that in Niger Muslim culture the leader of the church cuts tribal marks into each baby’s face. I had previously noticed these markings on most adults in the village but did not know the origination. One of the missionaries later told me that after cutting the face, ashes are rubbed into the wounds and some babies get severe infections and can become permanently disfigured from this ritual.
Ben was called to the hospital two nights ago to do a c-section; the baby was wedged far into the birth canal and stuck. The c-section was so difficult for Ben that he was literally drenched in sweat, even in an air-conditioned operating room. Ben pulled and pulled to get the baby out, but during this process he noticed no movement from the baby. After struggling for a considerable amount of time, Ben finally freed the baby, but he had died. Ben assumed the baby had died long before the c-section, but there is no way to tell. As an obstetrician in America most of Ben’s experiences are happy ones, with good outcomes. But not in Galmi. Ben was devastated at the loss of life that night, but no one else in the room seemed phased – in Niger, infant mortality rates are so high, it’s almost expected.
I went to the hospital a few days ago because I wanted to find out what the local evangelists experience. I met with Nana. We had our conversation through a translator which made it a little difficult, but I was able to learn a lot. She told me she preaches in the various “wards” (i.e. maternity, surgery, etc.) and people are open to hearing about the gospel, but most hear it without making life changes. There are, on occasion, people who give their lives to Jesus Christ, but it’s very difficult for people who are hearing about Jesus for the first time to make a commitment to Him. I told Nana I would ask people to pray for her and for the “seeds” she is planting.
I’d like to introduce the other missionaries here with SIM. The long-term, lifetime missionaries are:
Christopher and his wife, Helene, and their three children ages 6, 10 and 13. He is the Chief Medical Officer of the SIM hospital here and is a Family Practice doctor, but since he has been in Niger on and off for 17 years, he can now do just about anything! They are from Klamath Falls, Oregon.
Esther is from Germany and works as an Obstetrician.
Henri is a Family Practice doctor and is also France.
Jeannie is from California and works in Community Health. Jeannie goes into the villages and the “bush” to teach the locals about health issues such as AIDS awareness, how to get clean water, when to go to the hospital (many locals try to have their babies at home and need to be educated about when a labor is going poorly and they need to get help), breastfeeding and more. She also has local Christians share their testimony at gatherings.
Genevieve is from Singapore. She works with the local youth, and this Saturday she will move into a mud hut in town to have more of an influence on the locals.
Dorothy, 80 years old, teaches Hausa to missionaries and hopes to teach English to the locals. She also works as a translator.
Ben and I have also had the pleasure of meeting many short-term missionaries. David and Lois, here for one year, are from New Zealand as “operations” people – David oversees the SIM compound/property and works in maintenance and building projects. Lois is in charge of hospitality – she gets the houses and apartments ready for new occupants and arranges welcome meals for new-comers like Ben and me!
Norman, from Northern Ireland, works with David on building projects.
Alice, 77 years old, is Helene’s mother (Doctor Christopher’s mother-in-law) and is here to help their family and to care for her daughter. Helene is dying of skin cancer. She wants to stay here, in Galmi, because this is where she feels God wants her and her family, but her health is very unstable – some days she feels good and other days the pain is so bad she cannot get out of bed. Please pray for Helene and her family.
Finally, there are three college guys (Jared, Michael and George) here from the United States and Canada. They are here for the summer working on building projects, computer programs and Michael (who is a son of a missionary family from Niamey, Niger), is starting a soccer program for local children where he organizes teams and shares the gospel.
These three guys gave Ben and me the best anniversary ever! On June 23 Ben and I celebrated 17 years of marriage. “The guys” offered to baby-sit while Ben and I went to the SIM compound Community Center to watch a movie by ourselves (bonus: the TV room is air-conditioned!). After the movie, we came home and the guys told us to leave with the kids while they made us dinner! One hour later, we returned home, put the kids to bed and enjoyed a romantic dinner of beef and onions, rice, gravy, green beans, and mango lycees (a special drink made with milk, yogurt and mangos). The guys even made heart-shaped ice cubes for our drinks! Now aren’t these quality people?! Two of the men are single and going to medical school.
It’s so hot in Galmi, my pillow has no “cold side.” I frequently flip my pillow at night hoping the other side will be cooler. It doesn’t work.
Our three boys were playing with a local child this morning when I had a very close encounter with a lizard. Rasheed noticed an 8-inch lizard caught between the closed bedroom window and the screen, so I took it upon myself to free him. In order to free the lizard, I had to quickly open the little “doggie door” in the screen and push open the window. I cautiously opened the screen and as quickly as possible I pushed open the window. However, the lizard was faster than me! It jumped toward the open screen “door” just as I slammed it shut pinning the lizard in the door! I’m screaming and shivering all at the same time (I might add that this is the first time I’ve shivered at 100 degrees Fahrenheit). There is the lizard – half it’s body inside my bedroom and the other half hanging out the screen door. I knew if I slammed the screen down hard, I’d cut the lizard in half and I sure didn’t want this mess, plus, I didn’t want to traumatize my audience too much. But, if I let go of the screen I’d have a lizard in the bedroom. Screaming, I told the four kids to go get help, but I knew my three boys didn’t know where to go so I, in my best “sign language” told Rasheed to go get help – “go get a man,” I said as I gestured for him to go get someone tall. All four boys went running out of the house while I precariously held the screen closed (not too tight, but not too loose). Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was probably only 60 seconds, in walked my Hausa Hero! Laughing, he grabbed the lizard by the neck (as the lizard opened his mouth like he would bite if he had teeth!) and took him outside – where lizards belong! Ten minutes later Ben came down the walk and all four kids went running to tell him the story of Mom and the lizard mishap. Rasheed doesn’t speak a lick of English, but he watched and understood the entire retelling of the story about the white lady and her lizard.
Now on to goats: I saw another goat going at high-speeds, but not on a van – this time a passenger on the back of a motorcycle was holding it. “Gee, the Nigeriens must really be attached to their goats,” I thought. Then I asked a local about the importance of goats – they EAT them! And all along I thought they were traveling with the family pet.
Yesterday I bought raw beef from the back of a motorcycle – at least that’s what they told me it was! There is very little refrigeration available, so the cow is slaughtered in the morning and then the man on the motorcycle drives around the SIM compound selling beef. We don’t get to choose a chuck roast or a steak – it’s just “beef.”
I got to go to the market again yesterday. “Everyone wants to say hello to the white man.” My escort didn’t need to tell me, it was quite obvious. Some children wanted to touch me and others were afraid and went running when I said, “sannu” (hello). Now, if being white was not enough to attract stares, I managed with all my grace and charm, to trip on a rock and almost fall on my face. Thank God I was able to save myself from a complete fall, but not from total embarrassment.
The markets are very much like one of our farmer’s markets where vendors sell everything from food and drinks, to clothing and perfume. However, one “booth” caught my eye in particular because from it I heard the cries of a baby. I glanced over very briefly to see a man with a knife cutting small marks into a baby’s cheek. My escort, Rahilla, and I quickly walked away. She explained that in Niger Muslim culture the leader of the church cuts tribal marks into each baby’s face. I had previously noticed these markings on most adults in the village but did not know the origination. One of the missionaries later told me that after cutting the face, ashes are rubbed into the wounds and some babies get severe infections and can become permanently disfigured from this ritual.
Ben was called to the hospital two nights ago to do a c-section; the baby was wedged far into the birth canal and stuck. The c-section was so difficult for Ben that he was literally drenched in sweat, even in an air-conditioned operating room. Ben pulled and pulled to get the baby out, but during this process he noticed no movement from the baby. After struggling for a considerable amount of time, Ben finally freed the baby, but he had died. Ben assumed the baby had died long before the c-section, but there is no way to tell. As an obstetrician in America most of Ben’s experiences are happy ones, with good outcomes. But not in Galmi. Ben was devastated at the loss of life that night, but no one else in the room seemed phased – in Niger, infant mortality rates are so high, it’s almost expected.
I went to the hospital a few days ago because I wanted to find out what the local evangelists experience. I met with Nana. We had our conversation through a translator which made it a little difficult, but I was able to learn a lot. She told me she preaches in the various “wards” (i.e. maternity, surgery, etc.) and people are open to hearing about the gospel, but most hear it without making life changes. There are, on occasion, people who give their lives to Jesus Christ, but it’s very difficult for people who are hearing about Jesus for the first time to make a commitment to Him. I told Nana I would ask people to pray for her and for the “seeds” she is planting.
I’d like to introduce the other missionaries here with SIM. The long-term, lifetime missionaries are:
Christopher and his wife, Helene, and their three children ages 6, 10 and 13. He is the Chief Medical Officer of the SIM hospital here and is a Family Practice doctor, but since he has been in Niger on and off for 17 years, he can now do just about anything! They are from Klamath Falls, Oregon.
Esther is from Germany and works as an Obstetrician.
Henri is a Family Practice doctor and is also France.
Jeannie is from California and works in Community Health. Jeannie goes into the villages and the “bush” to teach the locals about health issues such as AIDS awareness, how to get clean water, when to go to the hospital (many locals try to have their babies at home and need to be educated about when a labor is going poorly and they need to get help), breastfeeding and more. She also has local Christians share their testimony at gatherings.
Genevieve is from Singapore. She works with the local youth, and this Saturday she will move into a mud hut in town to have more of an influence on the locals.
Dorothy, 80 years old, teaches Hausa to missionaries and hopes to teach English to the locals. She also works as a translator.
Ben and I have also had the pleasure of meeting many short-term missionaries. David and Lois, here for one year, are from New Zealand as “operations” people – David oversees the SIM compound/property and works in maintenance and building projects. Lois is in charge of hospitality – she gets the houses and apartments ready for new occupants and arranges welcome meals for new-comers like Ben and me!
Norman, from Northern Ireland, works with David on building projects.
Alice, 77 years old, is Helene’s mother (Doctor Christopher’s mother-in-law) and is here to help their family and to care for her daughter. Helene is dying of skin cancer. She wants to stay here, in Galmi, because this is where she feels God wants her and her family, but her health is very unstable – some days she feels good and other days the pain is so bad she cannot get out of bed. Please pray for Helene and her family.
Finally, there are three college guys (Jared, Michael and George) here from the United States and Canada. They are here for the summer working on building projects, computer programs and Michael (who is a son of a missionary family from Niamey, Niger), is starting a soccer program for local children where he organizes teams and shares the gospel.
These three guys gave Ben and me the best anniversary ever! On June 23 Ben and I celebrated 17 years of marriage. “The guys” offered to baby-sit while Ben and I went to the SIM compound Community Center to watch a movie by ourselves (bonus: the TV room is air-conditioned!). After the movie, we came home and the guys told us to leave with the kids while they made us dinner! One hour later, we returned home, put the kids to bed and enjoyed a romantic dinner of beef and onions, rice, gravy, green beans, and mango lycees (a special drink made with milk, yogurt and mangos). The guys even made heart-shaped ice cubes for our drinks! Now aren’t these quality people?! Two of the men are single and going to medical school.
It’s so hot in Galmi, my pillow has no “cold side.” I frequently flip my pillow at night hoping the other side will be cooler. It doesn’t work.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Eternal Purpose
Blog #8 from Galmi, Niger, West Africa (#1-7 below this blog)
One of the most difficult things for me here in Niger is not seeing first-hand an eternal purpose. Our mission here is two-fold: to heal the sick and to heal hearts by introducing people to Jesus Christ. On a daily basis Ben sees women (and a few men too!) who are better off because he is here. He sees long-term pain being relieved through surgeries and babies being delivered by c-section who might otherwise not have made it without his presence. He also sees local evangelists praying with each patient before and after surgery. Ben sees lives being changed. The only change I’m seeing is within me.
I am experiencing strong growing pains. My heart hurts that I am such a spoiled American. The Nigeriens are extremely hard workers and they never utter a word of complaint. Every time I see Maria, one local friend I have made, she gives me a huge grin and asks me how I’m doing. How am I doing?! I’m hot, tired, lonely and frequently frustrated with the kids. But I’m the one living in a Galmi mansion (at least that’s the way it must look to the her) with food in the refrigerator and ceiling fans; she lives in a house that could get destroyed with the next heavy rain. I push my kids around in a stroller; she carries Abednego, her five-month-old, on her back – while she’s working. But Maria, she never complains. I tell her, “You have a hard life.” She just says, “Oh, Carrie.”
I saw Maria singing in the church choir today. She is a life that was changed because of the outreach of SIM. She is the reason we are here yet she is ministering to me.
Speaking of church…I went for the first time this morning and boy was I gorgeous! I had my new Niger dress and head wrap on! “And don’t forget to put on earrings." Alice told me, "all the women wear earrings.” (Of course I’ll include a picture, as soon as I get it downloaded.) Church was very much like church at home – minus the air-conditioning, carpet, padded pews, English and deodorant! The instrument, a “drum,” was literally an empty old metal drum barrel but it sounded great! They did have a keyboard but didn’t use it much. The congregation sang, the youth choir sang, the women’s choir sang, the children’s choir sang, the women sang again, the youth sang again and then we all sang again. All the women were very dressed up and looked beautiful in all their colored fabric and head wraps to match their dresses.
Everyone is up from their naps – I must go. More later on our 17th wedding anniversary dinner – the best one we’ve ever had! And congratulations to my brother Mark and his wife Robbon who are expecting their second girl! (Why can’t I have a girl?! To quote my children, “It’s not fair.”)
One of the most difficult things for me here in Niger is not seeing first-hand an eternal purpose. Our mission here is two-fold: to heal the sick and to heal hearts by introducing people to Jesus Christ. On a daily basis Ben sees women (and a few men too!) who are better off because he is here. He sees long-term pain being relieved through surgeries and babies being delivered by c-section who might otherwise not have made it without his presence. He also sees local evangelists praying with each patient before and after surgery. Ben sees lives being changed. The only change I’m seeing is within me.
I am experiencing strong growing pains. My heart hurts that I am such a spoiled American. The Nigeriens are extremely hard workers and they never utter a word of complaint. Every time I see Maria, one local friend I have made, she gives me a huge grin and asks me how I’m doing. How am I doing?! I’m hot, tired, lonely and frequently frustrated with the kids. But I’m the one living in a Galmi mansion (at least that’s the way it must look to the her) with food in the refrigerator and ceiling fans; she lives in a house that could get destroyed with the next heavy rain. I push my kids around in a stroller; she carries Abednego, her five-month-old, on her back – while she’s working. But Maria, she never complains. I tell her, “You have a hard life.” She just says, “Oh, Carrie.”
I saw Maria singing in the church choir today. She is a life that was changed because of the outreach of SIM. She is the reason we are here yet she is ministering to me.
Speaking of church…I went for the first time this morning and boy was I gorgeous! I had my new Niger dress and head wrap on! “And don’t forget to put on earrings." Alice told me, "all the women wear earrings.” (Of course I’ll include a picture, as soon as I get it downloaded.) Church was very much like church at home – minus the air-conditioning, carpet, padded pews, English and deodorant! The instrument, a “drum,” was literally an empty old metal drum barrel but it sounded great! They did have a keyboard but didn’t use it much. The congregation sang, the youth choir sang, the women’s choir sang, the children’s choir sang, the women sang again, the youth sang again and then we all sang again. All the women were very dressed up and looked beautiful in all their colored fabric and head wraps to match their dresses.
Everyone is up from their naps – I must go. More later on our 17th wedding anniversary dinner – the best one we’ve ever had! And congratulations to my brother Mark and his wife Robbon who are expecting their second girl! (Why can’t I have a girl?! To quote my children, “It’s not fair.”)
Saturday, June 23, 2007
High 5 and Baby-sitters
Evan teaching a patient how to give a high 5.
Drew and his "baby-sitters." These are the ladies we met upon first arriving at Galmi. They took his stick away from him and he was quite confused.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
If Mama Ain't Happy and Goats on a Van
Post #7 from Galmi, Niger, West Africa (#1-6 below this blog)
Ben has been busy. He’s not only busy doing surgeries (he did SIX surgeries yesterday), but he’s also trying to make sure I stay happy – cause “if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” It’s funny because just as I’m about ready to lose it, Ben starts cleaning the kitchen. He knows the constant red dust that covers everything drives me crazy. The kids’ bare feet are always red and every surface in the house has a layer of red on it. I keep a bowl full of bleach water on the kitchen counter just to wipe down surfaces (counters and tables) but it’s a never-ending battle. Even the dishcloth and sponge are stained red. The dust slowly blows in from the sandy dirt outside, and if there is a storm – watch out! When it storms we have to close all the windows because the dust gets so bad. Then every time it storms the electricity goes out. I didn’t realize how much the fans helped cool the house until the electricity went out on us the first time. Even without a storm, the electricity goes out frequently here. Usually it’s only out for a few minutes, never for more than 30, but when the lights go out, it is super dark! I can’t even see my hand in front of my face. Ben and I walk around gathering candles and matches saying, “Where are you, I don’t want to bump into you.” It’s like a big game of “Marco Polo.” Ha!
Yesterday in town I saw live, bleating goats tied to the top of a minivan! The van is used as a bus, taking passengers (people AND goats) from one town to the next. I couldn’t get my camera out fast enough, but trust me, I will never forget how funny this looked!
Ben and I watched the movie “Sahara” last night (we borrowed the movie from another missionary). Please, if you’re going to rent a movie this week, rent “Sahara” with Matthew McConahey and Penelope Cruz. It’s a fun, and sometimes funny, action flick that takes place very near where we are. The best part was that in the movie they talk about the “Tuareg” people group, and today I met a Tuareg man! I wanted to say, “I know who you are! Do you know Matthew and Penelope?” but I bit my tongue.
Yesterday Ben removed a tumor the size of a football from a woman’s butt. I tried to tell him that’s what is wrong with me, but he doesn’t believe me.
There are three college guys here as short-term missionaries and they take turns watching Ben’s surgeries. Only the one guy is pre-med, but if Ben has his way all three will go into O.B. or surgery when they leave here. Ben loves teaching!
Today Evan and I watched four men MAKE bricks the size of cinder blocks! If you are a fan of “The Amazing Race” you know they showed this one time on that reality show. It’s unbelievable how difficult of a job this would be; the men work ALL day and each man only gets two cents per brick.
It’s so hot in Galmi that I sleep in my bra so I don’t have to put it back on in the morning. Putting on a bra while sweating is like pulling up a wet swimsuit – a difficult and frustrating, but necessary task.
I’m anxiously awaiting news about babies. Sarah? Robbon? Did you find out what you’re having yet? (And someone else -- you know who you are but I can’t include your name in my blog because I haven’t told anyone you’re pregnant yet!) I’d better be getting some emails soon!
Ben has been busy. He’s not only busy doing surgeries (he did SIX surgeries yesterday), but he’s also trying to make sure I stay happy – cause “if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” It’s funny because just as I’m about ready to lose it, Ben starts cleaning the kitchen. He knows the constant red dust that covers everything drives me crazy. The kids’ bare feet are always red and every surface in the house has a layer of red on it. I keep a bowl full of bleach water on the kitchen counter just to wipe down surfaces (counters and tables) but it’s a never-ending battle. Even the dishcloth and sponge are stained red. The dust slowly blows in from the sandy dirt outside, and if there is a storm – watch out! When it storms we have to close all the windows because the dust gets so bad. Then every time it storms the electricity goes out. I didn’t realize how much the fans helped cool the house until the electricity went out on us the first time. Even without a storm, the electricity goes out frequently here. Usually it’s only out for a few minutes, never for more than 30, but when the lights go out, it is super dark! I can’t even see my hand in front of my face. Ben and I walk around gathering candles and matches saying, “Where are you, I don’t want to bump into you.” It’s like a big game of “Marco Polo.” Ha!
Yesterday in town I saw live, bleating goats tied to the top of a minivan! The van is used as a bus, taking passengers (people AND goats) from one town to the next. I couldn’t get my camera out fast enough, but trust me, I will never forget how funny this looked!
Ben and I watched the movie “Sahara” last night (we borrowed the movie from another missionary). Please, if you’re going to rent a movie this week, rent “Sahara” with Matthew McConahey and Penelope Cruz. It’s a fun, and sometimes funny, action flick that takes place very near where we are. The best part was that in the movie they talk about the “Tuareg” people group, and today I met a Tuareg man! I wanted to say, “I know who you are! Do you know Matthew and Penelope?” but I bit my tongue.
Yesterday Ben removed a tumor the size of a football from a woman’s butt. I tried to tell him that’s what is wrong with me, but he doesn’t believe me.
There are three college guys here as short-term missionaries and they take turns watching Ben’s surgeries. Only the one guy is pre-med, but if Ben has his way all three will go into O.B. or surgery when they leave here. Ben loves teaching!
Today Evan and I watched four men MAKE bricks the size of cinder blocks! If you are a fan of “The Amazing Race” you know they showed this one time on that reality show. It’s unbelievable how difficult of a job this would be; the men work ALL day and each man only gets two cents per brick.
It’s so hot in Galmi that I sleep in my bra so I don’t have to put it back on in the morning. Putting on a bra while sweating is like pulling up a wet swimsuit – a difficult and frustrating, but necessary task.
I’m anxiously awaiting news about babies. Sarah? Robbon? Did you find out what you’re having yet? (And someone else -- you know who you are but I can’t include your name in my blog because I haven’t told anyone you’re pregnant yet!) I’d better be getting some emails soon!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Feeling Ugly and Panting Chickens
Blog #6 from Galmi, Niger, West Africa (#1-5 below this blog)
I never feel pretty here. It’s too hot to wear make-up (I’d sweat it off immediately), and fixing my hair is pointless because I always just pull it up into a hair clip. Plus, I’m wearing all these loose-fitting dresses that make me look twice as big as I am. Needless to say, I am in none of the photographs. On top of it all, I don’t smell too pretty either – but neither do the locals. Once again I’m back to the question – why (HOW?!) is the fertility rate so high here?!
It’s so hot in Galmi that even the chickens pant. The day I went to the market, my 21-year-old translator/escort, Robbie, invited me into her home. The houses here are made of mud walls but each has real door. I went in to find an open courtyard – mud floors and walls but no roof, and then one small area with a roof. In this small room where Robbie sleeps was a refrigerator (yes, a real fridge) and a very rickety chair. She offered me the seat and after sitting, I looked up and there at my feet were four panting chickens! None was moving or making a sound – just panting. I didn’t want to laugh, but it was quite a funny sight. She offered me a bysop (spelling?) drink from a plastic baggie – she makes the drinks herself from a plant (I think) and sells them. Vendors selling drinks (usually water) in town don’t have cups; they sell drinks in plastic baggies. The buyer just bites the tip off the end and drinks directly from the bag, which is then discarded on the ground. Litter is everywhere.
It’s so hot in Galmi that Evan doesn’t wear underwear. Now for Evan, that’s not that unusual – he frequently goes “commando” at home too – but in Africa, I don’t even bother laying underwear out with his clothes each day – it’s just an unnecessary extra layer of clothing. Speaking of Evan, I said something the other day about when we go “home,” and he got a funny look on his face – he thought we were here to stay! And the amazing thing about it – he didn’t seem to mind. Kids adjust so much better than adults!
Oh yes, the camel ride. For some unknown reason, Joel did NOT want to ride a camel, but Evan was very excited. The man asked me whether Evan wanted a one or a two-hour ride! Uh, how about just up the airstrip and back I said (actually I gestured since I don’t speak Hausa). The camel owner conveyed to us that we would need an adult to ride with Evan. Ben? No way! He’d sooner pull out all his nose hairs than to mount that creature. Carrie? I had a dress on and there would be no way, without looking like a “loose” American, I could ride the camel wearing a dress. So one of the other missionaries generously agreed to ride with Evan. It was a short ride but Evan seemed to enjoy it – it’s about as exciting as riding the penny horse at Meijer, just a lot hotter and more odorous. (FYI, Drew was most fascinated with the camel poop.)
Galmi Fast Food. The “chicken lady” came by again last night. On Monday nights a lady stops by every house on the compound taking orders for samosas and chickens. (Samosas are little meat pies that sort of resemble Hot Pockets or little turnovers. I don’t know what kind of meat is inside – it looks like hamburger but I’m afraid to ask – I just eat them with my eyes closed.) Then, on Wednesday, samosas are delivered right to our door hot and ready to eat, and on Friday, she comes carrying a pot on her head full of the skinniest little barbequed chickens I’ve ever seen in my life! The Colonel would be ashamed! At dinner, after Ben pulled the legs and wings off the chicken, Drew took the rest of it in his hands and just started gnawing to get as much meat as possible off this pitiful little thing. Skinny or not, we ordered more for next week.
Ben’s done 20 surgeries so far and getting busier every day. He was just called in to do another c-section so I have to end my blog. He did another surgery on a man with a bladder stone; the stone was the size of Ben’s fist! Can you imagine walking around with a rock in your bladder?! All from dehydration.
More later about the red dust covering everything inside and out.
I never feel pretty here. It’s too hot to wear make-up (I’d sweat it off immediately), and fixing my hair is pointless because I always just pull it up into a hair clip. Plus, I’m wearing all these loose-fitting dresses that make me look twice as big as I am. Needless to say, I am in none of the photographs. On top of it all, I don’t smell too pretty either – but neither do the locals. Once again I’m back to the question – why (HOW?!) is the fertility rate so high here?!
It’s so hot in Galmi that even the chickens pant. The day I went to the market, my 21-year-old translator/escort, Robbie, invited me into her home. The houses here are made of mud walls but each has real door. I went in to find an open courtyard – mud floors and walls but no roof, and then one small area with a roof. In this small room where Robbie sleeps was a refrigerator (yes, a real fridge) and a very rickety chair. She offered me the seat and after sitting, I looked up and there at my feet were four panting chickens! None was moving or making a sound – just panting. I didn’t want to laugh, but it was quite a funny sight. She offered me a bysop (spelling?) drink from a plastic baggie – she makes the drinks herself from a plant (I think) and sells them. Vendors selling drinks (usually water) in town don’t have cups; they sell drinks in plastic baggies. The buyer just bites the tip off the end and drinks directly from the bag, which is then discarded on the ground. Litter is everywhere.
It’s so hot in Galmi that Evan doesn’t wear underwear. Now for Evan, that’s not that unusual – he frequently goes “commando” at home too – but in Africa, I don’t even bother laying underwear out with his clothes each day – it’s just an unnecessary extra layer of clothing. Speaking of Evan, I said something the other day about when we go “home,” and he got a funny look on his face – he thought we were here to stay! And the amazing thing about it – he didn’t seem to mind. Kids adjust so much better than adults!
Oh yes, the camel ride. For some unknown reason, Joel did NOT want to ride a camel, but Evan was very excited. The man asked me whether Evan wanted a one or a two-hour ride! Uh, how about just up the airstrip and back I said (actually I gestured since I don’t speak Hausa). The camel owner conveyed to us that we would need an adult to ride with Evan. Ben? No way! He’d sooner pull out all his nose hairs than to mount that creature. Carrie? I had a dress on and there would be no way, without looking like a “loose” American, I could ride the camel wearing a dress. So one of the other missionaries generously agreed to ride with Evan. It was a short ride but Evan seemed to enjoy it – it’s about as exciting as riding the penny horse at Meijer, just a lot hotter and more odorous. (FYI, Drew was most fascinated with the camel poop.)
Galmi Fast Food. The “chicken lady” came by again last night. On Monday nights a lady stops by every house on the compound taking orders for samosas and chickens. (Samosas are little meat pies that sort of resemble Hot Pockets or little turnovers. I don’t know what kind of meat is inside – it looks like hamburger but I’m afraid to ask – I just eat them with my eyes closed.) Then, on Wednesday, samosas are delivered right to our door hot and ready to eat, and on Friday, she comes carrying a pot on her head full of the skinniest little barbequed chickens I’ve ever seen in my life! The Colonel would be ashamed! At dinner, after Ben pulled the legs and wings off the chicken, Drew took the rest of it in his hands and just started gnawing to get as much meat as possible off this pitiful little thing. Skinny or not, we ordered more for next week.
Ben’s done 20 surgeries so far and getting busier every day. He was just called in to do another c-section so I have to end my blog. He did another surgery on a man with a bladder stone; the stone was the size of Ben’s fist! Can you imagine walking around with a rock in your bladder?! All from dehydration.
More later about the red dust covering everything inside and out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
