Ely's Epic Journey to Niger

Cimi no kan te ay nda izo wo cere

2011-02-25T09:41:00.000-08:00

Or, the truth about what happened between me and that kid. I'm happy my zarma seems to have leveled out. No more forgetting that I'm aware of.

I'll try to make this blog quick. It concerns a young child in my village that I had a run in with. I posted it on my blog, as I thought it was important, only to find that after I returned to the US, anyone against my Peace Corps position tore it out of context and exaggerated it, which I thought was unfair. It got so bad that if you googled my name, a couple of the hits referenced me as a child abuser. After defending myself for like the fifth or sixth time, I just removed the post. It was the only part of my blog I censored on my own accord (as opposed to the ones I edited while in the peace corps for bureaucratic reasons), and I wasn't happy about it.

I never beat a child. I never even hurt a child. Ok? 100% fact. I did scare one once. He was a terribly behaved child that was trying to step on my infected toe, and I scared him. I scared him really good. The point of me putting it in here (no, I'm not a masochistic idiot who wanted to provide my critics with ammunition), was that it told a greater story, in my opinion. Being isolated can get to you. It can change you. The incident with the boy, Omaru, happened after I had been in my village for 2 1/2 months straight. I was on contract for two of those months, meaning I was forced to stay in my village as a punishment. When I tried to leave, Tandja dissolved parliament or something and we got put on standby. I was rattled. I had been in the bush for too long. Days blended together. Weeks blended together. And at the end of it, some little misbehaved kid got to me and I lost control. The point of the story was how isolation can mess with you. I never saw myself as losing control, and what I learned was that I can, in fact lost control if I'm faced with extraordinary circumstances. VERY extraordinary in that case. I scared the kid; I scared myself. I didn't hurt him. Thank god. I could have though, in all honesty. And it wouldn't have been because I am a violent or reckless person or even because I wanted to, it would have been because I wasn't strong enough to restrain myself and I had reached my breaking point. So I posted the story to show how extreme isolation can affect people. I took responsibility for the incident and felt badly. I learned from it, though. So there. There's the story. Ripping it out of context, you'd think I just randomly assaulted some kid, but any honest objector would have revealed the 2 1/2 month history, and the behavior of the kid, as well as my own mistake to reveal the whole of the story.

There. My blog is once again unedited.

For those last critics (assuming anyone still reads this thing) who will accuse me of not revealing any of the facts of what actually happened (scary I can almost think like one, now), fine. I chased down Omaru and picked him up into the air. I yelled at him to stop stepping on my bleeding toe. When I put him down he cried because he was terrified. I felt bad and realized I wasn't in control, thus reflecting on the whole situation and thinking it important enough to share with the world. I learned from it, and Omaru never stepped on my toe or entered my house to mess with my things or kicked my door down or did any of the other stuff he used to torment me with. Maybe there was a better way. For me. For Omaru. For Peace Corps.

This has gotten out of control. Or...um...Haykulu ga follo no!

2010-11-03T18:54:00.000-07:00

Ok, this has all gotten a bit crazy. I thought this blog was read by 15 of my family and closest friends. Now people(namely peace corps volunteers) are coming on here and sharing my blog with each other and talking about me on facebook among other things. I recently found a google hit on myself that involved some guy who researched me after reading an article I wrote for the annarbor.com newspaper, found this blog, and was abhorred by what I said. If I was completely detached from peace corps, I might feel the same way about this blog. So let me just say this:

I never meant for this to receive attention. I didn't think anyone read this thing. I left that diatribe months ago and no one ever even commented on it. Now people are discussing this and it seems everyone is either sympathetic or appalled. I understand that. But anyone who thinks I missed the big picture, or am an ugly american, or am selfish, or whatever--they clearly never read past the second blog. I miss Sanda so much I actually cry sometimes. I think about Sanda and his family almost every day, so whatever you think, don't think that my first priority wasn't always nigeriens and learning nigerien culture. I wanted to dedicate 2 years of my life for that. I didn't go there for the Beer Niger. I didn't go there for the COS parties. That's the one thing I read that really upset me.

Everything else is fair. You know mary abrams and think she's just swell? Ok. I disagree. You think Peace Corps is still just peachy and doesn't need to be changed? That's fine. You think my book will be lame(if it was ever written)? I'd like to think my professionalism would rise for the occasion. You think I'm a douchebag(as someone put it)? Ok. That's all fine. Just really think about things and decide for yourself whether things are ok, or if something is wrong. Hope that's not too preachy.

Go wolverines! Go ducks!

--I almost deleted my olds posts, but I just can't do it. I'll stand by everything I've said.

One more thing

2010-06-24T11:12:00.001-07:00

I couldn't say any of that while working for peace corps. I gave up my freedom of speech. You can't speak out if you're a volunteer. Now I can. Worst they can get me on is libel about mary abrams. Well, if you ever read this, Mabel, please come after me. It's just the kind of publicity my cause needs. You won't, though. Because you know you'd lose. I have the truth on my side. That and integrity and the true ideals of peace corps. And I talked to a lot of the right people about you: namely her enemies.

JFK is rolling in his grave.

Mustapha Bu, inga zarma mo

2010-06-24T10:28:00.000-07:00

In zarma: Mustapha died. His zarma also.

So I'm home. This will be my last blog post. I've been home since the end of february. My village got closed after gunfire occurred outside my house. They closed my village and offered to send me to a hausa village--a very corrupt, terrible village(I know this because my friend lived there). So rather than learning a new language over a few months and going home soon after, I decided to say screw it and went home. They couldn't get me out of the country fast enough. My buddy Tim was also rushed out of the country in record speed(we are the fastest I know of, and we were their least favorite volunteers maybe ever...coincidence?). In the process of kicking us out super fast, they skipped all of our medical exams. It would have only taken a day, but to really drive the knife home, they shipped us out ASAP with nothing but a bunch of payment vouchers to get checkups. I also go psyche vouchers to see about possible PTSD. Well, what they didn't tell me and tim, was that those vouchers are worth absolute dick. I have had to pay every health bill out of my own pocket. That was about 500 dollars for me(for a simple checkup--the evils of the american healthcare system--may it burn). I don't have to say--this is money I don't have. I still have a disease called schistosomiasis that is infecting my bladder and raising my risk of bladder cancer by like a 1000 percent. The medication is a few pills that cost 130 dollars. I have to pay all of this out of my pocket and submit the paid bills to peace corps and they will supposedly pay me back. I'd be surprised if they do; they've screwed me over in almost every other way...

Anyway. I live in Michigan. Lauren got into the University of Michigan graduate school for conservation biology. I work at a place buying gold, platinum, and silver. It's a pretty sweet gig.

So this is my last post. Am I any wiser? Am I stronger? Would I do it again?

Peace Corps is terrible. Horrible. It's a horribly corrupt system that has been worsened by those in charge. Those in charge have consolidated power so that volunteers have almost no rights and no power and are completely subject to the unprofessional and incompetent whims of their in-country bureau. This has led some to become outraged enough to want to reform the system. The Dodd bill would have done just this. It would have given the volunteers back power and would have treated us like adults(like we are) and most importantly--it would have given us a whistle blowing mechanism on horrible bosses or country directors.

I tell people who ask about joining a few things. First, I tell them to join for the right reasons. I really thought I was going to meet my best friends and wife in peace corps. I didn't go there for that, but I thought with all those philantrhopic, amazing people in one place, how could we not get along famously? Well, people like me and Lauren and my close friends were the minority. Most people who join peace corps do it because they dont' have anything else to do. They join because they want to see the world on the government's dime. They do it to boost their resumes. This is a fundamental failure of peace corps--it recruits people that are as "qualified" to do the job as a child(truthfully, there is no job, and a child could do it, if they had the emotional maturity). College isn't required. Not useful at all. Anyone further interested in joining up, I tell them to watch for 3 things and to get out at the first sign of them. The three things are:

1-safe country. If your country isn't safe, don't live there. I personally wouldn't want to live in any place islamic. And no it's not because I'm afraid or am anti-islamic. Well, I guess I am to a degree. That degree is the degree to which the religion is anti-woman. This point isn't where this paragraph started, however. Pick a safe country.

2-make sure you get a good village. Even within a country, there are good villages and bad villages. Volunteers can pick up on this right away. I recognized a village called Boumba as a terrible village the moment I stepped foot in it. What happened? the volunteer was almost raped and regularly was the victim of theft and lived in constant fear of the village. Some villages are great. THe people are respectful of the culture difference, they're motivated, they're kind, and just good people. You know this as soon as you see it. It's especially common when you're the first person opening a village. I was the 4th. My village was terrible. No one attacked me, but my home was regularly broken into and I was threatened. I found a good village up the road that was vacated by a volunteer who had ET'd. It was a GREAT village. I tried to switch villages. I would later be reprimanded in one of the few attempts the bureau made to send me home. They said I acted unprofessionally and wasted "precious" bureau time. When I say "they" I mean MARY ABRAMS. There's her name. I'm not one to buy into old themes of good vs. evil--but she really is a bad guy. A true antagonist and terrible person. This leads me to

3: Make sure you get a good country director. If you don't like/trust your CD, GET OUT! It's not worth it. That person can completely screw your life up and make your life absolute hell and you're powerless to do anything about it. Mary Abrams hated me. She made my life hell. I will not go into ALL of the examples(believe me, there are sooooo god damn many), but in the end, it came down to this: she hated me, I hated her, she had every power to make my life hard in a place where life was already REALLY hard, and I had absolutely no power to reprimand her or call attention to her professionalism, lies, and incompetency. When she came to Niger, morale was high. There was a "bar" on the training site, travel was unrestricted for the most part, and morale was high. She came in and started closing hostels(while lying and saying she was trying to keep them open), instituted a thing called a hostel log to track the amount of volunteer time out of village as if that was necessary--it never had been! Instituted lots of new rules to control us volunteers, fired(she claims differently, but she's a liar) the heart and soul and oldest member of the program, who was also the biggest fund raiser for projects. The only option now(pretty much) is the dreaded PCPP--a horribly unsustainable travesty of an idea. I was blocked from doing one because, "We didn't think you would spend the money the way you said. We thought it would just help your friend." So I was neutralized as a volunteer. THat's why that rice plantation never happened: they didn't like me. I had the funding, too. She started writing contracts requiring those with "problems" to stay in their villages--as if your village should be treated as a punishment. She actually covered her ass and said, "now this isn't to punish you, it's to refocus you," as if I was unfocused in the first place. 3 people ET'd because of such "contracts". 3rd year extensions used to be among the highest in niger. Now they're among the lowest. Morale is low. In fairness, some of this has to do with political instability in the country and the constant threat of danger from Al Qaida and muslim fundamentalists. But things were heading here before all of that happened. And how does peace corps reward the likes of Mary Abrams? They promote her. She's being transferred to Rwanda. She gets to leave her already grossly inflated salary and mansion and private chef(it's disgusting, isn't it?) and electricity bill that more monthly than a volunteers entire monthly wage and skip out on the nightmare of Niger and go to Rwanda. Way to go peace corps. Way to go. Well, all I have to say to that is this: THIS IS WAR. I'm hope to one day write a book addressing the evils of peace corps. It'd be all too easy to make it personal and shred mary abrams to pieces(a feat far too easy). I'm after bigger fish. I'm after a system that allows the mary abramses of the world to live and flourish and advance. I'm after a system that allows incompetence to the point of directly getting a volunteer killed(yes, this happened in benin, I believe mary abrams wrote the CD a letter of support), I'm out to bring down and rebuild a system that treats adults like children and keeps information at a premium like it was the CIA or something(they always keep information from us--like what REALLY happened to the girl in Benin). So, Mary Abrams, and really Peace Corps in general: I hope to bring you down. Not you so much, mary. I think you've pretty much gotten away with everything, you absolute horror of a human being.

Would I join up again? Yes. Hell yes. I've seen how magical it COULD be if you had those three things go right for you. I got screwed on all three. I'm back in the US now, wiser, and more cynical. And in medical debt. THANK GOD I didn't see a psychologist. Think how much that would have been.

Movies to watch:

The Garden

Sicko

Capitalism: A love story

Food, Inc

--The tables are skewed.

Ely, out.

Mustapha forever...

Mustapha's Flying Solo

2009-12-27T07:49:00.002-08:00

Hello all.

I'm in Bamako, Mali. My vacation seems to be about over. I leave for home tomorrow morning.

Lauren and I left Niamey for Ouagadougou--the capital of Burkina Faso(formerly Upper Volta). We had a good time. We were with our friends Sarah and Laura. We actually went bowling! It's true. Ouagadougou has a bowling alley. Sarah was the only one who managed to break a hundred points the first game, but I think that has something to do with the fact that they had beer on tap as well. It was great though. I also found a pinball machine and went to town. I had almost forgotten about such things. I could have played forever, but Lauren kept killing my pinballs(I'm joking you know you're awesome). After Ouaga we went to Mali by a very rural road and ended up in a border town called Koro. From Koro we stayed in Bankass, and from there, we went into Dogon Country with our fellow peace corps volunteer, Sterling, and our guide. We also joined up with Our guide, Moumouni's older brother, Omaru, and his two ...clients, Jessica and her mother. Jessica is a peace corps Benin volunteer. Cool.

So Dogon Country is basically a giant 80 kilometer cliff. There is a very interesting race and culture of people there called the Dogons, and they're interesting in that they (mostly) haven't converted to Islam and so have kept their cultural identity. For anyone who's been to Mesa Verde in Colorado, it's kind of like that. Only people still live there. It was fun though. We hiked under the cliffs, then up through a crack(it involved climbing 3 foot high rock shelf stairs with all fours), along a path on a cliff, and over crevasses via wooden ladder bridges. We had a lot of fun. Lauren gets intense vertigo and has a fear of heights to put it lightly, but she came through with flying colors. The coolest village...well, I forget the name, but it was on top of the cliffs our 3rd night. Pardon the dorky reference, but it looked like the Argonath in Lord of The Rings. Two Giant rock pillars guarded either side of a giant ravine that sloped off of a giant cliff face. Around that were what looked like Arches National Park in Utah. Awesome rock formations were everywhere. We arrived at sunset so all the rocks looked neon orange. Lauren was our photographer. I'll have her post the pics as she is on her way home now. Sort of. Anyway. As if all that weren't cool enough we could walk right to the edge of a 350 meter cliff face and sit on the edge. Sterling and I did this, then hiked to a lower part only to see that we weren't laying over and sitting on a cliff face, but a massive hanging precipice. We were a good 10 feet past solid land. Intense. The view was nothing short of spectacular. And we got free millet beer.

Jessica and her mother parted ways, and Lauren, Sterling, and I went on to Mopti, which people call the Venice of Africa. THey call it that because it's a river port town right on the Niger river where it forks into a giant floodplain. It is a cool town. The whole town is built on three islands with steady river and fishing trafic between. We caught a beautiful sunset over the water at a nice place called Bar Bozo. Lauren and I shared a local dish called "Le Capitaine Bozo" which was a river fish broiled in a sweet tomato sauce with Bananas. Sounds strange. It was actually quite delicious. Lauren was skeptical but even she liked it.

I was sick the entire time. I still am. I had a nasty cough that felt like someone was detonating bits of shrapnel in my lungs each time I coughed. I had fevers, and I was weak. All of that especially sucked considering I had to hike 5-9k per day up cliff faces with a 40 pound backpack. Lame.

Sterling parted ways with us in Mopti. He's travelling on by himself on a massive african trip until his money runs out. We took a very long bus all the way to Bamako, the capital. I was low on money, and Lauren wanted to splurge for Christmas, so she bought us a nice hotel room for Christmas eve and Christmas. We went to a Catholic church to see carolers(Lauren was raised Catholic). It was really cool. There are quite a few Christians in town, so there were lots of Christmas trees and christmas decorations. It felt so much better than last christmas. Last christmas I was with a bunch of people I didn't want to be with.

Christmas morning I put on a beach boys' christmas and had lauren open her present. I bought her a mud cloth scarf. Mud cloth is a craft of the dogons. It's hard to describe. it's dyed brown and white. Anyway, she liked it, so I bought it all secretively and convinced her someone else had bought it. She was sad...until she went snooping through my bag(she was continually wanting to do this as she wanted to pack my stuff for me everywhere because I was sick, but I always refused knowing she'd find it) when I wasn't aroudn to find her cell phone. She still feigned surprise. I don't think she knew how seriously the Hydes take secret gift giving. Besides the room, lauren got me a cute snow hat with penguins on it. For those of you reading this that don't know it(I can't imagine there are any left), I have a thing for penguins. For lunch we went to this amazing cafe we had heard about and had fajitas, a turkey sandwich, and a milkshake(those are all very luxurious items in Africa). We went out for Christmas dinner at a bar and I ordered Pork Ribs. They were freaking amazing.

The next day(yesterday) we woke up and made our way to a Catholic mission. That's where I'm staying at now. With a bunch of nuns. They seemed to have only one requirement--that I be a christian. I don't think that was as important as NOT being a muslim. Just a feeling. So Lauren and I had one last beer together, and I took her to the airport. We had a teary goodbye(after many other teary previous goodbye attempts that didn't end on a note of finality). And she left. I came back. Took a Japanese woman out for a beer to keep my mind of things, then went to sleep with two interesting guys. One is Swedish and hates Africa, and the other is Greek and is offensively insulting and aggressive, but in a cordial kind of way. Hard to explain.

I don't know if I've mentioned this, but I won't see Lauren for a year. Maybe. Unless I get evacuated. Or my family convinces me to come home. They've been trying lately. Anyway. I miss you already babe.

With that, I have more plans for my lonesome vacation en route to Niamey. I can't discuss them until after I do them, for fear Al Qaida is reading or something. So I'll tell you all about it after the new year. I'm going to go study french and try to keep my mind off of how alone I seem to suddenly be. My french is actually getting pretty decent. This vacation has been just the nudge I've needed. Ok. Au reoir. A Bientot.

-Lord Oliver Cromwell

A Much Needed Vacation

2009-11-09T06:25:00.000-08:00

So it's been 13 months, and I've yet to take a vacation. I seem to always spend all of my money in the city on food and such. Lauren is finished with Peace Corps on december 15th, but is going on a massive trip before returning home. I'm going with her as far as Dogon Country and Bamako, Mali, but after Christmas I seem to be alone. No big deal. I think I'll just travel by myself. So I'm thinking of going into Senegal. From there, Either head North into Mauritania, or south to the Gambia and Guinea and Guinea Bissau and maybe even Liberia and Sierra Leone. I dunno. It all depends on how much it costs for Visas and if I can even get into the country. Reliable information seems to be scarce. I'll let y'all know what happens.

Mustapha says, feliz cumpleaños, padre.

2009-10-14T08:41:00.000-07:00

That is, happy birthday dad. American Dad. Nigerien "dad" doesn't know what year he was born. He thinks he's fifty something.

Also, I've gone back and edited my posts. [this section on why I edited my posts has been edited] I've mentioned we're restricted on what we can say because we're government employees, so let me remind all of you again that nothing I say is the official opinion of the United States Government. I knew some of you were wondering. Obama does not, in fact, consult me before making important foreign policy decisions, and I'm out of the loop on virtually everything unless it's in my corner of the woods--which is Niger and Northern Benin--two hotspots of American activity(not). Apparently people in Peace Corps washington go through and read our blogs and flag stuff that we've said. [this story about a pcv who got in trouble for disclosing his position on a war has been edited]

What else? After swearing off the PCPP, I've been convinced(it's my only option, really) to do one after my awesome Sister-in-law Nikki went out and found funding through Enterprise. I don't know what inspired her(I suspect it might have been a post that has since been edited), but I love her for it and hope to kick some major ass and take names and dedicate the whole thing to her. Or us. When I improve the well, I'll put something like, "This well was made possible by the generous work of Nikki Hydes" in the concrete. And no one will understand it. Ever. Anyway. If all goes well that little project I mentioned earlier might actually come to fruition.

What else? Lauren's parents come in a few weeks. Hopefully I'll make a good impression. Apparently sometimes I don't do that. Exhibit A-peace corps. HA. I sure do wish MY parents would come. They just opened a dollar store and if it does well, I'll expect nothing less.

The more I type, the less stupid I feel talking about it, so here it is, I've typed 110 pages on my book, and I figure it's about half done. My brother Nathan, my dad, and my friend Jyoti(I miss you please come back to me) are reading it. It's random. At the very least I'd like to think it's funny or amusing in some way. Maybe it's a generation X thing. Or are we Y? I don't know.

I've been here for almost 13 months. Lauren and I are coming up on our one year. This date(december 12th) is also close to the date she leaves. So we have less than two months.

What else? New Gaya volunteer-Brian. The kid's crazy. When we're together general mayhem ensues and stories generate themselves. That's a good way to put it. We're spontaneous epic-tale generators. Should prove to help distract me for that second year. So shout out to brian.

Oh, I got an ear infection. It's cured now. I actually came in on a bluff because I knew they took ear issues seriously. I didn't think anything was THAT wrong with me but wanted an excuse to come in. Turns out I have an infection that if it had been caught a day later, my ear would have been pussing and bleeding, and had I waited longer, by eardrum could have ruptured. Not cool. But better now. I'm still waiting for my hearing to be 100%.

What else? Oh yeah, it's MY birthday soon! Apparently some packages are on the way. I got one from my little cous, riley, already. I'm wearing the coolest Built to Spill shirt ever. Thanks, cous.

Ok. Ely out.

Cultural Ambassador Numero Uno!

2009-09-29T08:59:00.000-07:00

Buenos Dias mis amigos,

I'll make this short and sweet.

I didn't get the grant I applied for. There aren't any more in the near future. Any and all big ideas I once had about doing "work"(calling anything we do "work" now seems ludicrous) in my village are now now all but hopeless. That is unless I pay for it myself or ask my friends for money. As I've said before, it's NOT going to happen.

Therefore I now consider myself strictly a cultural ambassador only. To demonstrate the sudden change in job title and outlook, I have abandoned all my old language learning(My Zarma is too good already) and have started to re=learn spanish. That's right. I have a spanish textbook, and I'm studying regularly. Because I want to speak spanish. In the meantime I'll teach my villagers about sex changes and homosexuality and monogamy and being rich and all things(that they've heard) are American. Maybe I'll teach Spanish. That'd be funny. Ok. Back to vil.

Adios,

Ely

Almost a Year

2009-09-04T02:04:00.000-07:00

Kay Yesi. Yesi Mansan Cine.

That is: next year. Same time next year.

I can't believe I've been here just shy of a year. It seems like an eternity and an instant at the same time. Looking ahead, the year plus seems like only an eternity. It doesn't help that the Lovely Ms. Maloney is leaving. I've been getting asked a lot, and yes, we're going to stay together. And yes, I know it's a year. And Yes, I think it will be hard. And yes, I think it will be worth it in the end. So don't ask me any of those questions if you talk to me, please. I feel goofy enough posting it on my blog.

So it's Ramadan. Ramadan is the holiest month in the Islamic Year(which differs from our year in that their calender is based off of lunar cycles. That is they go off the moon.) So their year doesn't correspond to an actual solar year, so every year Ramadan comes a little later. Or earlier. I can't actually remember. Ramadan was the idea of the prophet Mohammad. He was very passionate towards the poor and especially towards orphans, as he was one(if I remember correctly?) himself. Real quick, the five pillars of Islam as they were described are as follows:

1-Believe in Allah the one true God and the prophecy of his prophet Mohammad
2-Pray 5 times daily, starting at sunrise
3-Give alms to the poor. 2.5 percent or more if you want more divine reward
4-Keep the fast of Ramadan
5-Remember the pilgrimage and travel to Mecca, the holiest Muslim city in Saudi Arabia.

Shia Muslims believe in what is called the sixth pillar: Jihad

I know, Jihad is a bad word. Kill infidels, right? Wrong. Jihad means "struggle" in arabic and there are four different kinds. You can claim jihad against yourself. Th er is jihad of the self, jihad of the tongue, jihad of the hand, and jihad of the sword, which is the kind none of us like. Jihad is meant to improve oneself and oneself's society.

So there you have it. So back to Ramadan. Mohammad has a soft spot for the poor, so once a year, anyone of the islamic faith must fast for one month. This fast is from sunrise to sunset, and you can't eat food or drink water. Some people are really fanatical about it and constantly spit as well. It's actually really annoying. Especially on buses. Why fast? It's not to get closer to god, as in the christian faith. It's to remind all what it is like to be less fortunate and to be poor. It's like for 1 month, all Muslims are poor. I think that's really cool, except in this country. And if anything I've said is wrong, sorry. This is just what I have learned from my Muslim villagers and friends.

This country is really poor. The poorest on earth, in fact. If it were overpopulated like India, it would be REALLY ugly. Niger is on its way though, as it boasts the highest fertility rate of any country. "Our Dumb World" by The Onion makes fun of Nigerien fact. Go read that if you can, it's blatantly tasteless and hilarious. I forget the stat, but my buddy David is always quoting it. Something like 40 percent of all 14-21 year olds give birth each year. And those are just the ones that are married. The point being if you're married you're basically pumping out a unit every nine months. Niger also has one of the highest infant mortality rate, a statistic that seems all too personal to me now that I have witnessed my villagers' children die. And what do you say to that? We were taught only one thing. Fonda Tilas. That is: Greetings on what must be. That too me seems grossly inadequate and not even true, but I say it anyway. I ate dinner with a woman in my village recently, and while eating, I asked her where her youngest son was, and she said he died. This was her second death of a child. I said fonda tilas, she said it wasn't a problem, and we kept on eating our millet. I could see the pain in her eyes though. She wasn't fully expressing it though. I've only seen a nigerien cry once, and he was shamed by all of men present. Emotions are not public spectacles. Emotions are not even easily described. The words to describe things are shockingly bare bones. George Carlin was right when he observed "The quality of our ideas and thoughts can only be as good as the quality of our language." How can you say you're sorry for the loss of a child when there's no true word for sorry? how can you tell someone you love them when the only word they have that's close means to like or want or need or love? That's just inadequate. That's not to say English is perfect. It works both ways, but mostly one.

So my point is this country is poor and the people are poor and problems such as the previously described result. And yet people fast for Ramadan. And I don't think they should. I just want to yell it from the mesa, "You're the reason why people fast! they're feeling what it feels like to be YOU! For god's sake go eat!" But no. An already malnourished, calorie starved population is going to go without food or water and still farm. Ramadan is currently falling during farming season. And many men make their pregnant wives fast. David and I are pulling our hair out trying to convince them otherwise. So that's Ramadan. And yes, I did it for a week. David, I love you, but you cheated. HA! I didn't though. I really did it. Honestly it wasn't hard. My metabolism is pretty flexible, so I never had a hard time with it. It was EXCRUCIATING, however, fasting and farming. I went out to my field twice and worked for half the day. By the time I came back I could barely stand because I was so dizzy. Mo binni-eye curse, that's dizziness. Humans need water, especially in the hottest country on the planet. I got my sunburn, I broke my fast with my villagers, and they really loved me and respected me for it. I lost 4 kilograms though. That's like 9 pounds. Anyone want to lose weight? Now you know. Go fast and farm!

What else. I just got over Amoebic Dysentery. Fun. Never had that one before. I've now had every intestinal parasite I can think of. Oh wait. I'll cross my fingers for cholera.

Everyone asks me about my work. What work am I doing? I'm not really. I plant trees. I'm going to buy a couple of Machetes for me and some villagers and we're going to go prune and upkeep a giant grove of gum Arabic trees. I hate gum Arabic trees. They are the most nasty prickly tree. But they secrete gum resin that is valuable, so it will help my villagers. Really, I'm not doing anything I want to be doing because I can't find 300,000f to get my whole idea started. That's 600 dollars--which is a very small project compared to peace corps standards. [this portion on PCPP has been edited] People talk about NGO workers making people dependent and make the needy only look on us as an opportunity for a hand out. That's absolutely true. I've seen it. Half of my villagers only think they're going to get something out of me. If they're honest about it, it's only annoying. Those that think they're going to dupe me really infuriate me. That's why peace corps always harps on SUSTAINABILITY. Help your villagers help themselves. I bought it. I still do. It's slow. And in reality, I suspect it may be hopeless, but sustainability is the only way. Otherwise you pay for something, it falls into disrepair, and then you have a town with this beautiful piece of infrastructure that is broken and no one uses. Wells are the most common example. Throwing money at the problem not only doesn't solve the problem, it creates more problems. So I believe in sustainability.

[this entire paragraph on Peace Corps and sustainability has been edited]

What else...ducks pathetically lost their opening game to Boise State and the running back slugged a guy after the game. Nice. I wanted to puke.

Ok. Back to the world. I think I'm finally feeling well enough to go back to my village. I've had a good couple of days. Sick. But time for movies and electricity and emails and my writing. Oh yeah. I feel stupid even mentioning it. But I've began writing what appears to be the start to a book of some kind. 50 pages. I'll let ya'll know how that goes. My dad finished his third book recently. I'm half way through it now. He's a good writer with good ideas.
Hugs for my nephews,

Ely

If my phone gets stolen one more time, I swear to God...

2009-07-16T09:34:00.000-07:00

Hey gang,

Back in Gaya. From the title ya'll might have gathered I've been having a problem keeping my phones. Without going into details, yes, it's true I'm on my 4th friggin phone.

It's a fairly exciting time for Peace Corps Niger. Everyone calls it a very incestuous organization. I think they're referring not only to the fact that our dating pool is effectively 70 or so people if you're a guy, and 40 or so if you're a girl, but also that your potential friends are few and far between. I pretty much have David. We constitute the Gaya cluster. Emily, I love you, but I never see you due to your travels. David and I hold down the fort. When I first came here I remember my demyst. Demyst is short for demystification week, which is that exciting time during training that everyone goes out into the country for the first time. Everyone is assigned to a volunteer in the field. They demystify you. I remember my demyster. Kate. She was great. She was the first person to tell me how exciting it is when new volunteers come. She told me, "you'll see, they distribute pictures and everyone is talking about you before you even get here." It's true. We've become so isolated, we're desperate for something new. Somebody new. Not me so much because I have a fabulous, beautiful girlfriend, but still. Exciting times. The new group has finally arrived.

It's also exciting for me for another reason. They've redone all the training and stuff. Because of the way they've done it, I've been in the newest, freshman group for over 9 months. That sucks. Especially because the bureau keeps more of an eye on us. I'm hoping now that the new stag is here, people will give my stag a break. Now demyst is a little over a week away. I told them I'd take as many as they'd give me. I'd be a little surprised if I actually got them...given my...tepid past with the bureau. I've also applied to be a VAT(volunteer assistant trainer), which is basically a respected volunteer that comes to training as a guide and helper. I'll never get it, but I think I'd be a good one. So screw it, I applied. I might get slighted on both counts...but that's part of why I applied. Let them know I'm still here, ya know? I don't know why I'm suddenly thinking of my grandfather. Sounds like what he might do. Either way. Exciting times.

I've been reading a lot. I think I'm in a position to declare Kurt Vonnegut as my favorite author. He was one interesting dude. Too bad he died two years ago. He's been turning my world upside down. That's the kind of writing I'd want to do someday. But hearing him talk about his own writing, and knowing he didn't write his first novel until he was 25, I'm thinking I might follow suit with my father and write a book. I have no idea what I'd write...I just seem to have a lot of inspiration with no direction. I've been noticing my emails have been displaying a certain spruced up, enthusiastic literature flair. Interesting. My favorite novel would have to be Catch 22 by Joseph Heller, though. One amazing book. A Confederacy of Dunces, also amazing. Anyway. Hooray for reading 5-8 hours a day.

Also, I've been tearing through the Bible. I have this really interesting Oxford edition in the Bible. It's annotated throughout with interesting little tidbits of information on what you read. It also includes the entire Apocrypha(those books Protestants don't like for some reason). It also includes the 151st psalm(who knew there was one?) along with a book called Bel and the Dragon. Crazy. After I'm done with the Bible, I'll do the Koran. I must say though, it's been a very frustrating read. I'm reading Judges now...but up to now the God of the Old Testament is like a bully pulling the wings off a fly because no one will play with him.

------

ok. I wanted to post that a week ago, but the power gave out just as I tried to post it. So now a week later, I'm through 2 Kings and no, I did not get demysters. Shucks.

Happy 4th of July.

2009-07-05T02:50:00.000-07:00

Hello again. My trip out East is finally over. It was one of the best things I've done in Niger thus far. I travelled around to a lot of different villages in The Konni/Tahoua region. I did radio in Hausa. Hausa is my third language, so it was pretty neat speaking it on the radio. My Hausa improved a lot with a little help from my friends.

I hope to post pictures...it was very different. I seemed to have forgotten how nice some topography can be. There are a lot of really cool mesas out east. I went to my friend Ada's village where there were some really cool, tall mesas. We climbed one that was so steep we were practically rock climbing. I also rode a camel...I've never done that before. It was fun. A bit bumpy...but fun. Camels are amazing animals. They're much larger than one would expect. And people own them here like people in the States own cows. I also went to Tahoua. Tahoua is a larger city that's about as far North as we're allowed to go. It is interesting because there are a lot of Tuaregs up there. The Tuaregs are the ethnic group in the North. Their capital is Agadez, and they are light skinned. They speak a language similar to Arabic called Tamaschek. It sounds cool. The coolest thing is that they are famous jewlers and artists. They go around on camels with swords and turbans and make really cool silver jewelry and art. They respect their women more than other Nigerien ethnic groups. Anyway. I bought a really cool necklace and a Tuareg sword. I didn't keep them though. I gave the necklace to Lauren and am about to give the sword to my friend David for his birthday. Anyway. Good trip.

What else? Almost out of time. Oh. My phone got stolen again. Cool. Not sure how. I was travelling.

And finally, I've had a lot of people ask what the difference between the adjective for someone from Niger and someone from Nigeria. Ok. The word Niger is not prounounced Nigh-jer. No. It's prounounced like it's french, Nee-ger. Soft G. Like in Jacques. So the adjective NigeriAn is prounounced like you think. It sounds like how you'd say Nigeria. But the adjective NigeriEn is prounounced soft like the french way, and denotes someone or somthing from Niger. Does that make sense? 1 letter makes all the difference. In one you're talking about a relatively rich, most populous country in Africa, and in the other you're talking about the hottest, poorest country on the planet. Cool. Happy 4th of July. It might have been my first one without fireworks. It was too hot to go out, so we had an ice dance party. And I'm oficially Micheal Jackson'd out. I get it. He died. Commemorate him for a day. But stop playing his overrated music. It's getting annnoyong.

Mustapha Has Giardia

2009-06-24T00:11:00.000-07:00

It's true. I finally got sick. I lived with it for 2 weeks because the symptoms were mild and I was more concerned with my infected toe. After 2 weeks, though, the fluid loss overtook me, and when I stood up I went blind and my body went numb due to loss of blood pressure. At least that's how I diagnose it with my limited medical training. So I took medication. It's better as of 10 minutes ago. But I also have strep throat. When it rains it pours.

So let's see...I'm in Niamey. I finally made it out of my village after 2 1/2 months. No major hold ups, other than the giardia thing.

So here I am in Niamey. It's usually great. Diverse food. Beer. But the giardia has stolen some of that. My giardia is strange though. It loves beer. Hates food. The more beer I drink the less nauseous I feel and the better my diahrea gets. But god forbid I eat a morsel of food. My body punishes me for hours. It's been strange. At least I got to see my friends. And Lauren. It had been over 2 months. As for now. I'm going to travel east to Hausaland. That's the term for the area of Niger that speaks Hausa. Hausa is the most common ethnic group and language in Niger. They make up over half of the country. They're also a common language group in Nigeria, which being the most populous nation in africa at 140 million people, makes Hausa one of the most common languages in Africa. It will be interesting. I've never travelled out east before. My Hausa isn't that great. I speak market Hausa, as my two market towns are Hausa-speaking. I feel it will be like when I first arrived in country. Crippled by language. How my Polish friend Pauvil set out from Poland speaking nothing but Polish and bringing a English dictionary, and proceeded to travel across africa baffles me.

Ok. Bus leaves soon. I should have more access to internet now that my contract is (finally) over.

Pictures!!!

2009-05-03T09:14:00.000-07:00

So here are some pictures I stole from my friends. I hope y'all enjoy 'em.

This is the lovely Lauren. She's cute.

This is my friend Ari and I at our swear-in.

Yes, there are elephants in Niger. Yes, you can walk up to them. If you want to die.

This is the infamous Saddam shirt-one of my famous 'party outfits'. Ari and Jess are with me.

This is the Pig bar in Gaya. I don't care what my contract says, those cornrows were awesome.

This is the Niger River 2K from my house.

Mustapha ize hinkanta go ka

2009-05-03T08:53:00.000-07:00

This was written April 16th.

Or in English, Ely's second child is coming. In Niger, uncles call their brother's children their own, and cousins call each other brothers and sisters. Family's are quite large. I hope ya'll find these preliminary Niger funfacts interesting... Anyway. It's true. I just got a call from my brother, Nathan. Apparently his wife, Lisa is having contractions, and little Wilson David Hydes, my second nephew, will be born on April 15th. I'm excited.

I'm in Gaya now. I'm still on restrictions, but they're a third of the way done. I'm not going crazy yet. Although I did run out of food, so I came into Gaya for the day to buy some more.

So everything is fine. My Zarma is good. I'm learning how to say simple things in Fulfuldey, which for me is a huge accomplishment because before I couldn't hear the sounds. Or pronouns. I discovered why it was so hard for me to learn before. Nailing a fulan down on how to say something is difficult. Cornering more than one is impossible. So I have 1 Fulan teacher--Sanda--also my best friend in village. If I just keep asking the same person, others can't poison what I've learned by claiming I'm not pronouncing it right. So today I was able to say to everyone's shock--bye, I'm going to Gaya. I'll be back soon. Cool.

Hausa is also coming. I make it routine to go to Albercaise every monday, which is their market day. Albercaise is a Hausa town, and I like to go to the fishing festival platform and study up on Hausa. French is getting their as well. I'm finally starting to think my intitial language goals are possible. Maybe not. We'll see.

What else... Oh. I figured out an awesome way to fund all of my projects. Apparently peace corps is hard up for money, and the head of Rotary--our largest funding source--, Gaston, is being let go. That leaves PCPP, which is basically where I ask you guys, my friends and family, for money. I refuse to do that. I don't know how this economy is hitting most of you, but my family certainly hasn't benefited--to put it euphamistically. That leaves a couple of other small organizations...so I've kind of realized I'm on my own. So I've been looking for a way to raise funds within my community. You know. Sustainability at its best. No anasara hand me downs. I've decided I'm going to be a rice farmer. I want to buy 2 pumps, which will be expensive. I'm still not sure how I'm going to raise the initial funds...but with those two pumps, I can produce 80 sacks of rice 3 times a year. Subtracting fuel and labor costs, that's over a million CFQ per whack. Then it would go into a village lockbox, and it would go to what me and my community decide. I want to do a sheep hand me down program with the women....I'll make them sign a blood oath they won't kill them for Tobaski. I want to build 2 schools. One for the official french class and one for the Men and Women's life skills class. Those are expensive. I want to do a massive Windi Bundu(if you don't know about this miracle tree and it's nutritional properties, wiki it or something) project. I want to cover the wells so no girl will ever fall in it and die ever again. I want to buy school supplies for my 5 day a week English class. I want to paint 3 world maps in the schools. I want to maintain and restore the gum arabic plantation outside my village. And I want to by uniforms for a boy's (and girls hopefully) soccer league. I'm sure I've had more ideas. I forget now. Then when I'm done, I'll just take back my initial investment, and give the pumps to needy families in the area. And EVERYONE wants a pump. So that's my idea. And I never need to even write an official peace corps project proposal.

These first two months I'm kind of crippled. I'm keeping busy by teaching the previously mentioned english class 5 days a week. I'm learning the rice trade and cranking out a lot of numbers...I am beginning to plan and prepare my traditional field. I'm going to plant millet, red sorghum, maybe corn(I'm told kids will steal it), and peanuts. Cool. That reminds me. I need to buy fertilizeer while I'm here, too. The little pet project I'm most proud of, however, is Girdy and Aissa. Sanda, by bff, has had a tragic life. He's almost 18, and he takes care of his whole family. His dad died two years ago, leaving Sanda to provide; And at 16, he did it. I love the kid. We're close. We were talking about emotions not being ok in Niger, and he confided in me that he still cries sometimes over his dad. And his sister. This is the only kid in the village by the way that never(hardly ever) asks me for anything. He always shows respect, and I never get tired of having him around--something I can't say for anyone else. He actually sleeps in my concession now. He's like a part time roommate. He's the only one who brings me dinner, the only one who cleans up after himself. I just love the kid. And he's a good part time roommate, and he's a good house sitter when I'm away. Anyway. His tragic tale continues. His oldest sister, the only one close to his age, helped him with the family. She died last Ramadan from Malaria. His dad also died during Ramadan. Bad time of year for him. So when his sister died, she left her husband and her newborn baby, Aissa. The husband promptly left and never came back, leaving Sanda's mother to take care of the kid. His mom tries her best, but she doesn't have any milk, and the family doesn't have money for milk, so they do what they can, which is give a newborn millet and rice. Not good. The baby can't digest it, and so has been starving to death for the past 8 months. It's hard to describe what that looks like. I'm reminded of the cover of the 'Concert for Bengladesh' album back in the 70s, but that doesn't do it justice. Imagine an 8 month old the size of a newborn with every bone in its body exposed. She's gone so far past a dystented stomach(a site all to common--I'm used to it), and is like a human skeleton with wrists and ankles 1 inch in diameter. her face hung off of her skull like an old man. she lacked the strength to lift her head or even to cry. So I took her to the hospital, where my PC friend david just looked in disbelief and told me how sick she was. So I bought her some powdered milk and dried windibundu and took her home. I later decided she needed actual milk. With antibodies and all of those good things. So i bought a goat and took it home. I named her girdy. I milk girdy twice per day and give Aissa the milk. That was over 2 weeks ago. Her face stopped sagging, as did the rest of her skin. She's gaining weight, strength, and is actually crying. So yay. Saving a baby's life might be one of the coolest things you can do with your life. I don't know. There's a baby across the village who's mother died during birthing, so I might make that my next pet project. No babies will die unnecessarily on my watch, goddamn it. It's so easy too. I'll try to get pictures of Girdy and Aissa. Their fates are entertwined.

My pictures will come soon enough, though. I'll throw in some others, too. Like me with the infamous cornrows that got me in some hot water. So stupid. Anyway. Until next time, Au Revoir.

Welcome to the World, Wilson. See you in 20 months...

Lord Olivier Cromwell peut parler francais.

2009-03-21T04:58:00.000-07:00

C'est vraie, je ne peux pas parler francais.

Oh yeah, I have a French name now. Lord Oliver Cromwell. Or just Olivier.

Ok. Enough of that. I have acutally started taking French classes. Well, I took an intensive week. I'm in Niamey once again for in-service training. It's nice. It's 3 weeks long, and we just finished week 2. So far so good. My buddy Tim and I are having a weight gaining competition, and we grew out our mustaches for mustache march. I cut mine though. Time is 32 and hairy, so he won. I also haven't gained any weight. Still 162. So I'm a failure on all counts. When I'm not gorging myself with food or shaving, I'm learning how to write project proposals and how to graft trees and stuff. Some sessions are really good. Some are torture...and everything in between. Overall it's been good though. It's been great seeing everyone from my stag. It'll be the last time we're all together until we leave the country. So we're trying to soak it up.

Last night we all went to a pool party at the Marine house. It was nice. Hanging out and talking with our boys and girls in uniform. I call them that because I felt very old... Funny how I always picture soldiers being older than me. Not true. Our wars really are being fought by children. Well. 18 year olds. Not to say anything bad about our soldiers. I'm just getting old.

What else? I haven't had internet access in a long time. Been in village. After IST I have to go back to my village for 2 months...I won't go into it now, but I got in trouble. Looking on the bright side, my language should be really good after april. Although the pessimist in me knows it's the hottest part of the year, and I'll have to endure 130 degree heat with no AC or chance to leave. It got up to around 110 the other day. It's hard to explain what it's like. When it's too hot to sleep on a mattress, it just sucks.

My father sent me an apparatus I can use to load pictures from my camera. So many interesting pictures are coming, I promise. Until next time, A tout'ta l'heur. Or something. I still can't spell very well in French. It's like a whole different language. Go figure.

I Hate to Be a Downer, But...

2009-02-02T03:53:00.001-08:00

Hello all. I'm in Niamey, the Capital City of Niger. It's so nice to be able to eat cheesburgers and pizza and drink beer and coke. Although it's probably not the same caliber you're used to in the States. There are no franchises here. It's nice in the sense that there isn't a McDonald's, 711, and arby's clogging every street corner, but it's bad because it's unpredictable. Either way, when you've been in the bush for over a month eating nothing but rice and beans--speaking english, taking a hot shower(my first one in 3 months by the way), and eating a sub-par pizza with a skunky beer is just what'cha need. And the Super Bowl. Although it didn't start until midnight here.

I had to come in because I ran out of Mefloquine--which is my malaria prophylaxis. Mefloquine is a terrible, terrible drug. A few people can't take it because it makes them go crazy. There are many of us P.C vols. that think that it makes everyone crazy. Or maybe it's just Niger. Either way. The side effect of taking Mefloquine is "vivid dreams". Yeah. I can't go into details here, because they're too appauling...but it's a terrible feeling waking up thinking you've done something horribly wrong, or something awful has happened, and not knowing what's real and what's not, and spending the first 5 minutes of your day moping and feeling miserable. A recurring dream I keep having is that I want to ET(early terminate). I wake up and feel like garbage. Ashamed. How am I going to face my friends? How am I going to explain this to people? Why am I not strong enough to do this? Then it hits me. Wait. Screw that, I love it here. And that's the tamest, best case scenario for having a bad mef dream. It's a terrible drug.

Malaria is worse though. I had my first run in with that awesome little parasite. Germany started their version of Peace Corps. I forget what it's called, but there's a volunteer not too far from my village. His name is Emmanuel. German volunteers serve for a year...and they all speak english. And french. And various other languages. Makes us Americans feel pretty ignorant. Because we are. Anyway. The Germans were having a party at their house a few nights ago, and a bunch of us decided to go. I love those guys. And girls. And German dance music is splendid. My friend Emmanuel was sick though. I didn't think much of it. People are always sick in Niger. There's lots of germs. Later I went in to see him, though, and he looked really, REALLY bad. We took his fever. It was like 40.something in Celsius, which is 104.something to you in the states. Serious fever. Apparently he had felt better, gotten sick, felt better, and now felt really bad. Cylclical fevers are a symptom of malaria, so I diagnosed it and called my medical officer. Later Emmanuel went to a hospital and got diagnosed with malaria. If he went untreated, his next fever would have been even higher, which is body wouldn't have been able to handle. He would have passed out and suffered brain damage. Malaria sucks. Its kill rate is very high if left untreated.

It may also be worth noting that I'm trying to switch villages. I think. I don't know. I still need to think about it. A friend of mine ET'd a few weeks ago, and I had the pleasure of seeing his village before he left. He opened his village, and his villagers were just really excited and happy to have a volunteer. My village is awesome. But I feel like in him leaving, he hurt the village...and that enthusiasm and joy might be replaced by feelings of betrayel, mistrust, and skepticism of Americans. I feel like I can fix it. It's not necessarily what I want to do...but it's the right thing to do. I think. So I'm seeing if it's possible. There seems to be two kinds of peace corps volunteers. Those who expect to get more out of Niger than they give, and those who expect to give more than they get. It's rumored that in the end everyone succumbs to the first idea. It's supposedly innevitable. I want to hold out as long as possible though.

This isn't a reason why I want to leave...but I used it as a reason in my report. I found out that 16 Zarmas were killed about 8 kilometers from my village. It was a herder/farmer conflict. Fulan herders ruined some zarma fields. The zarmas went to the village and a fight broke out, and they beat up a bunch of Fulans. Later, the Fulans retaliated by using guns and machetes and killing 16 people, injuring many others. For those of you who remember, my village is a Fulan village. I didn't hear anything about it until I talked to some of my Zarma friends...and when I brought it up to my villagers, they acted very weird about it. Some got angry and told me it was self defense. They asked me what I would do if someone beat up my son. I told them I wouldn't shoot them. And I certainly wouldn't hack them up with a machate. It didn't seem like a huge deal to me because I always feel safe in my village...but the thought of 16 people dying a rock's throw down the road from me has a sobering effect.

Oh yeah. a month ago some Canadians were kidnapped in western Niger. A week ago, a convoy was stopped by someone(rumor is a faction of Al Qaida), but only the car with white people was kidnapped. Those white people turned out to be Germans. No one has heard from them since. A bunch of Peace corps volunteers have been called into the capital and aren't being allowed to go back to their sites. It's pretty bad. Everyone is on edge. Even I get a little paranoid walking around at night. And every strange occurence or turn on a bush taxi ride now and I'm reminded of my vulnerability. It's a terrible thing to live in fear. And I constantly try not to. But when this crap starts happening it's frustrating and impossible not to think twice. Subahana. (Allah help me)

There's a bumper sticker in the states I like a lot. "God, Please protect me from your followers." I want to see some here with the subtle change, "Allah, Please protect me from your followers."

Signing off,

Ely

Mustapha says "Send me stuff."

2009-01-22T09:38:00.000-08:00

It's been brought to my attention that my address isn't current. If you send/have sent stuff to the Niamey address, it should still get to me eventually. If you send stuff to this address, though, it will get to me faster.

Elijah Hydes
Corps de la Paix
B.P. 144
Dosso, Niger Africa

It's rumored you should put "brother Ellijah Hydes" or a bunch of religious symbols along with "air mail". I don't know. Couldn't hurt. And you should also tape it up really well. Two peaces probably ain't sufficient(love you nikki). As for content. You all know me. I will say it's easy to get a lot of things here...but it's really hard to get NICE things here. Like belts, flip flops, or whatever. This is assuming any of you want to mail me anything. I know it's expensive, and totally understand otherwise. Anything I get I appreciate greatly, though. Alhamdulilahi (thanks be to god in Arabic). Only not to god, to all of you. Oh, and pictures are always a big plus...Anyway. I'll write more later. Maybe tomorrow.

-Ely

TIA, man. TIA.

2009-01-13T04:14:00.000-08:00

Blood Diamond, anyone? This is Africa.

So this is the first time I've had internet since my last post. You're supposed to spend the first month in your village. I've been doing a good job of it...I've gone hermit in a major way. I don't even have cell phone reception, or "reso" a us Nigerians say. I have a phone benin card which works, but I can't send texts--which is the primary way of communicating in this country--, people can't call me, and I can only call people some of the time. And the connection is always terrible. So yeah. The only reason I came in is because Peace corps gave me an empty gas tank for my stove. So I had to come into Gaya to get a new one. 9000 CFA. Which is like 18 bucks or something. Which is actually a lot.

Ok cool. I forgot to check my watch... 2:00. time to pray. This internet cafe is closing...so I guess that's all. Back to my village. until next time...which I hope isn't too long--but almost certainly a matter of weeks. So bye for now.

Merry Christmas, Niger. Happy birthday, Isa.

2008-12-23T03:01:00.000-08:00

Isa is Arabic for Jesus.

Where to begin?

It sucks not having internet EVER. I feel like there's so much that's happened since the last blog. I guess I'll start with Tobaski. Towards the end of PST (pre service training), I was fortunate enough to be able to spend Tobaski with my village. My old village. Tobaski is the Muslim holiday when they celebrate Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son, Isaac. I personally can't stand the story. It's in the Bible too. The first four books of the Bible and the Koran are the same. Anyway. God told Abraham to kill his son to prove how much he loved God. Or feared him. I can't remember which virtue was being tested. And maybe he sent an angel to pass on the message. The old testament isn't my strong suit. Or favorite. But either way, Abraham obeyed and was about to do it, when an angel appeared suddenly and said something like, "no, stop! God was only testing you! And you did good!" I don't know why an omnipotent god would need to test something like that, but Muslims celebrate it by killing tons and tons of sheep and goats. And cows and occasionally a camel, but mostly sheep and goats. Now I was torn between my hatred of sheep(they keep me up and eat my garden) and my love for all animals. In the end I decided to not only watch, but actually help out in the process. They dig a pit for the blood to collect in, then one or two people hold down the sheep/goat while another person cuts the throat with a knife. It's hard to explain what it feels like to hold down an animal struggling for its life. It's strange. Feeling an animal's pulse slow and it's life slip away is strange. It made everything seem so vulnerable. Afterwards, with blood on my hands, I was strangely sad. I don't think it was entirely for the sheep and the goats...it was also for the apparent waste of resources that was layed out before me. A typical sheep cost 50,000 CFA. Which is over a hundred dollars. Which you all can guess is A LOT of money. It was all so...forgive the beaurocratic term, but unsustainable. Of course the exact same thing is happening in the states on a WAY larger scale. It made me want to be a vegetarian again. And I probably will be. But first I ate meat. Crap tons of it. I ate every part of that goat. I ate kidneys, lungs, intestines, meat, and stuff that I still can't identify. Anyway. I digress. But that was my Tobaski(cimsy for you zarmaphones).

So now I'm on my way back to Dosso for Christmas. The Anasara Cimsy. At least that's how I explain it to my villagers. Anasara means foreigner. In all truth, it means white person, despite what some people proclaim. I've sworn in. I'm on official volunteer. Yup I made it. I just spent my first week in my village. It was pretty intense. No english for 6 days. Only Zarma. And Fulfuldey and Hausa. Mostly Zarma. I don't know who said I'd have lots of free time, but they were wrong. I had enough alone time to finish the last 60 pages of the awesomely radical "Passionate Declarations" by Howard Zinn, and to teach myself 3 different games of Solitaire and win at least once. Kim, the volunteer before me, left me a book on how to play 225 games of Solitaire. So I've kind of become my dad in a way. Except no computer monitor. So yeah. Canfield, Klondike, Rainbow, and Chameleon done. 221 more left. Chameleon is my fav. But most of every day I'm with people. It's actually exhausting. I've always considered myself an extrovert. I've never really felt to need to be alone...but over last week, there were a few times I just had to kick everyone out and recuperate. I went to bed at 8 some nights. It's really hard work. It's just not the same thing...conversations are supposed to be relaxing and easy. Here they're stressful and taxing. It'll get better. It already has. I love it.

There's a woman in my village named Zaratu. She was Kim's best friend. She really is a really nice woman. Anyway. She's divorced, and didn't have kids, so her brother gave her two. A boy and a girl. Kim gave me a stuffed animal to give the girl, Fatima. The day I got there, I learned that Fatima fell in the well and died. She was 9. That well is 20 feet from my house. I drink from it. I don't know what's disturbed me more. The fact that it happened right next to my house, the fact that I have a picture of her that kind of haunts me(I want to post it here but alas there is no scanner. Later perhaps), or the fact that no one seems to care. I mean, that may be unfair, but I really haven't seen one person, even Zaratu, show even the slightest emotion. I feel like I'm the most affected by it, and I only met her once. I'm sure it's a cultural thing. I'm sure people care.

I also tried to get a game of women's soccer together. The men and boys play every day(with my ball). So I declared that Sunday is for women. The women work all day every day, and I thought they might like a little recreation time. The boys were angry as all hell. The women acted excited. They said they'd show up. But they didn't. Only the boys did. I said they couldn't play. I sat down and said if the women wanted to stand me up, fine, but I was going to wait by the school like I said I would. It did piss me off that the women acted enthusiastic and told me they'd come only to stand me up. Then my friend Mohommed came to "enlighten" me that women don't know how to play soccer. And that they're afraid of the ball. And that their husbands would be angry if they found out that they were playing with a man. Mohammed is a man of about 30 years. I asked him how women could be afraid of the ball if they've never played. I asked him how the unmarried women's husbands would be angry. He tried to be nice about it, and I was as passive as I could be, but in the end, he convinced me to give the ball to the boys(AGAIN) and I promised next week I would be firm in my girls only on sudays rule. Maybe I was too assertive too fast. It was an utter failure. And it was aggrivating. But I welcome the challenge. I feel like I can make progress(in this F'ing annoying issue) that kim couldn't. 'Cause I'm a guy. Apparently they would have played with kim though.

I thought of my first work project. I think it's a rad idea. I'll get into it later.

I could give a billion details, but my time is up. So Farewell for now. I hope you all have a fabulous Christmas. Mine should be interesting. It's my first one away from home. But don't worry about me. Spirits are high. Expectations are mounting. And I'm excited for Christmas. Even if I am an athiest.

Mustapha says Bismillah

2008-11-27T02:36:00.000-08:00

Bismillah is Arabic for, "let us begin". Mustapha is my Nigerian name. Cool.

So I finally have access to a computer for more than a couple of minutes. Of course it's a french keyboard and I keep getting a, m, and w mixed up. The a is where the q usually goes, and the m is where the ; usually is. Good story. I'll get used to it. Kala suuru. (have patience)

So. I'm in Niger! Right now I just got done with live in, which is when I go to my village and check it out. You know, to see if I can stand it for 2 years. The peace corps bureau has informed me that I can't actually say where I'll be living, but trust me, it sure is nice. There are palm trees and birds everywhere. I'm learning zarma and Fulfuldey. I'm also starting to learn french and hausa--as the area I'm in is very diverse. I don't think I'll be fluent in 4 languages by the time I leave or anything. My goal is to be fluent in Zarma and Fulfuldey and functional in french. But we'll see how that goes. I think fulfuldey will be the hardest. Conjugation and pronunciation have proven to be extremely difficult. Fulfuldey is the language of the Fulani people. They have no great cities, but have historically been nomadic herders/farmers. Although many people in this country look down on them, I find them fascinating. They wear the brightest clothes and jewelry, and are famous for their cows and cheese.

Training has had it's ups and downs. Once again I don't think I can go into too many details. I will say that we trainees are eagerly awaiting becoming full-fledged volunteers. We swear in in two weeks. The American Ambassador to Niger is putting on the ceremony, so it should be nice.

I'm strongly considering getting a camel or a monkey. Word.

I love my current host village and host family. I'm really going to miss seeing them every day. I have made a lot of friends in my stag as well. In no particular order: Nichole, Ariana, Dylan, Rob, Colin, Jessica, Liz, Santiago, and Will. There are more, but those are the ones that popped in my head. I only included the list because I know you parents out there are talking up a storm with each other. No doubtedly my parents will probably share this link with you. So hi. I'm Ely. You all probably know me as the son of David and Cynthia. We are all touched(and weirded out) you are all talking to each other. I still can't believe most of you joined facebook. If your kids rejected your friend request, it was probably for the same reason I rejected my parents'. We don't want you seeing thousands of pictures of 4 years of us partying. So don't take it personally if that happened. Just direct all of your facebook questions to Kira--whom I've never met. I hear she's lovely, though.

So. I'm about ready to throw this keyboard out the window out of frustration, and my wrists hurt, so I'm going to stop for now. I'm good though. Spirits are high. I haven't even been(severely) sick yet. Keep it touch. Next time I have internet should be on an american keyboard, so I can do my usual lengthy-stream-of-conscious narrative you've all been accustomed to. Until Then,

Kala ton ton, Sai Anjima, Au revoir, Fa Yawto, and good bye.

-Mustapha (Ely)

Oh Yeah, My Contact Info

2008-10-06T03:51:00.000-07:00

Email: ehydes@uoregon.edu or elyhydes@hotmail.com

Address:
Corps de la Paix
B.P. 10537
Niamey, Niger

Sign: Scorpio.

That's all I know at the moment.

It's Finally Here

2008-10-06T03:33:00.000-07:00

So. I just created this blog. I'm still in Sisters, Oregon. I leave for the airport in an hour. In true Ely fashion, I saved everything till the last minute--so that means I haven't slept all night and I'm writing this in my bath towel to air dry while I upload songs on my iPod and simultaneously blog. I'm multitasking in the digital age, I suppose. Anyway. For those of you who want to read my blogs, I promise I'll try to write on here as often as possible. I'll also try to upload some sweet pictures and stuff. Until then...Bon Voyage. To me. I'll be in Philadelphia tonight. Then off to New York City(bleh), then Paris, then Niamey. So woo hoo. I'm still not excited. I'm not scared. Everyone always asks me that. I'm neither. I do have a generous anxious feeling though. I'm just ready for it to be here, and I hope to God I like it. Until then, I'll miss all of you. Especially if you're kind enough to actually be reading my blog.

-Ely

ps. I don't really hope to god.