In non work related news things have been going relatively well despite slowly losing my group of friends to Niamey. Nasser is at school, Bachir is going to be a Gendarme, and Ridoune is continuing school while he waits for the Douane (military). Ridouane was especially hard for me because I never expected him to leave. He was one of my first friends in Kollo and certainly the closest. We even referred to each other as twins. He is the spirit of Kollo and the village even feels a little different. He had a cell phone boutique in the market and it makes me sad each time I pass by (walking or by bike) and no one is sitting out front. Because he was there, the whole Fada would come and hang out. It’s where I went every day as soon as I left work.
But we got to celebrate big before he left. I threw a party at my house last Saturday (this was coincidentally before we knew when he would leave) and all my friends came. Even Nasser came in from Niamey and as of Sat. night I am officially his girlfriend. So cute… My neighbor Hennett came over and helped me prepare the food. I made tuna pasta and spaghetti. I have perfected making tomato sauce in a skillet (I’ll blog ALL about food later). Nany and Talit came and helped clean but they were sad that it was an all adult party this time. But I promised them that the next night would be just for them and I would even make my much desired chocolate.
People started arriving after the 8 o’clock prayer. Ridouane and Moctar were the first to arrive. My neighbors came over too. There’s Mohammed who is 21, Moussa who is 17, Omar who is 15, and their friend Hayatou who is 16. I had talked to Nasser and wasn’t really clear on whether or not he would be able to make it in. The food didn’t take as long to prepare as I imagined so we decided to start eating before it got much colder. It was kind of ironic that the only non-nigerien was the one eating with her hands. Basically I only had so many forks and spaghetti is hard with only a spoon. But when I pointed this out it made everyone laugh.
Of course just as the food was finished Nasser called and said they were here. He came with his best friend, his brother Issaka, and another guy from our Fada whose name escapes me everytime I see him. But they did get to try some of the chocolate I made so it wasn’t all a loss. Nasser was the last to leave and I was sad to see him go. But Tabaski is right around the corner and he should be in town for the fete (celebration).
The next morning was when I found it my twin would be leaving me. I spent the morning hanging out with him while he did his laundry. After awhile I went home because he had things to do. It was Sunday so I decided to walk around our market for awhile. Market is so general but there are 3 in Kollo. The first is the everyday market which stretches along the main road and into the ecogar (motorpark). The second is the Friday market which is in Kollo Zongo and about 5km from me. I’ve only been once and it was intimidating. I didn’t even really market when I went. I just drove through with my neighbor in his car en route to the river. The third is our smaller Sunday market which is right across from my inspection. Even that market makes me a little anxious but I am getting a hang of finding what I want and being able to bargain for it. I usually take Nany with me to help with vendors who don’t speak French.
Before the night was over I biked over to the boutique and bought one last leemu hari for me and Rido. We ate to our health (a little inside joke that I really don’t remember how it started). Saying goodbye to him was so hard and I felt like crying. I could tell he was going to really miss me. I found out later that he told all our friends that they were not allowed to let me stay by myself for more than two nights in a row and that they had to go visit me if they didn’t see me around the village. Moctar actually did come to visit me and it was really nice. After night falls I don’t leave INRAN. I don’t like walking or riding along the main road with all the bush taxis who fly during the night.
No comments:
Post a Comment