Culture Kids Troisième

Third Culture Kids

Third Culture Kids is an expression used here to describe a state of being for children of missionaries, embassy, military, etc, kids.  It refers to children who do not live in the place where they were born and instead live in a culture different from theirs, belonging “no where.”  They don’t really fit in their place of origin and yet they never quite “fit” into the place or places that their parents'  assignments take them.  They are without a culture so to speak.

We feel like Third Culture Kids.  We don’t really fit here for several reasons.  First, we are from America and used to the American way of doing things and the American way is quite a bit different than the Nigerian way.  

Second, we don’t speak the language or languages here.  That is a big issue.  As we have now been here awhile, the people at the center are less attentive, as they should be, to our inability to understand French.  They forget we are clueless.  After prayer time last week, three women, who are English speakers, were talking in French while Elgin and I were just sitting there listening.  We listened very closely to get the gist of their conversation.  We concluded that they were talking about the dangers of traveling in Eastern Niger.  Turns out they were talking about where to buy cloth for dresses.

Third, we are in a different stage of life than the people here.  They are young and we aren’t.  They are in the “raising kids” stage of life and we aren’t.  

Fourth, we are not missionaries nor are we bible translators.  There is a common community here of people with the same interests and experiences.  While we really appreciate who they are and what they do, their lives are very different from ours.

So we got to thinking that like the kids, being misfits is really hard.  Poor us...  Well maybe not.  Maybe we, like the kids, are being given a gift.  Not so much a gift of having this added dimension to our life but rather the gift of belonging to God.  The gift of being in the world but not of the world.  It is not so much a matter of do I fit or not but instead what is God showing me, teaching me – about HIS world, His creation, His way of living and relating.  I think Paul could say that he learned to be content in all circumstances because it was not the circumstances that defined Paul.  God defined Paul.  Paul believed that God was in each and every breath, each and every circumstance, he did not depend on his circumstances for his peace, contentment, or purpose, but on God. 

For us, to be in circumstances that force us to be dependent upon God, to fit into His plan, is a gift.  We long to be God Culture Kids. 

Merci, mon Dieu.

Notre travail ici

Our work here. 

Several people have asked what work are we doing in Niger?  What is keeping us busy?  Are we doing what we expected we would be doing?  This blog is to talk about the kinds of things we do at the Center and in Niamey. 

First off, we are doing very few things that I thought we would do.  In fact I am amazed at what we are doing.  I came here to be the Center Manager.  That was what the job description said.  As I learned more, it was to train in a new manager as well.  The Center has three conference rooms that it rents out, a dorm rooms that sleep 12 people, and 9 guesthouses that can sleep individuals in rooms/suites or families.   I was to manage and systematize the rental process and upkeep for it all.  Well it hasn’t turned out that way.  My lack of French, local customs, and a dozen other things make being a manager out of the question. 

So what have we done? We have gone through and inventoried every item in four living units, the kitchen, laundry room, and leisure library.  We have made a list of what is missing, what should be in place, and what needs repair.  Every living unit is filled with things that the previous renters have left behind.  Most of it was left behind for good reason.

In each place we have created four piles:  toss, sell, store, and put away.  The “sell” piles have been the biggest by far only because you don’t throw things away here.  So we have planned a Yard Sale for some time November.  Actually there will be two yard sales, one for the employees and one for all others.  I have found the employees carry a lot of weight here.  We can’t imagine anyone buying some of this stuff let alone wanting it for free.

I have gone to the bank once a week with the finance guy here, counted money, sorted money, entered in cash withdrawals, bank transactions, and other complex financial transactions.  I discovered that the cost of the generator is about three times what they thought it was and while I have tried, I have not found a way to allocate those costs to income sources.  I’m not sure anyone wants to but I tried anyway.  They have electricity and specifically air conditioners on meters and so people pay for usage.  The generator, which is much more costly, (it is needed because of city power outages at least 8 times a day), is a center expense.

I have given two power point presentations to the director on such tantalizing subjects as a new system for keeping track of keys and a recommendation for signage at the Center.  Note:  I did not say new signage there is no signage (See blog on the need for advertising.)  Both presentations included taking a picture and then using Power Point to put in a representative sign or number.  I threw in a recommendation to make the Paillotte, a rather big open cabana like structure that is unique to SIL, the icon of the center, and as such, it needs to be cleaned up and the two truckloads of dirt in front of it and are the first thing you see when you enter the center, need to be removed.  I have also worked on, not presented yet, a presentation or business plan to address the sustainability of the center.  I think I can say with some certainty that my efforts to date have earned me the distinction of being the center’s loud, pushy American.  But, as we were told, be our thorn.  Help us get things done. 

I have developed rental contracts for all of the living units, work orders, and a cleaning checklist.  None of them are in use in anyone’s mind.  Wait, that’s not true.  I filled out a work order for some leaks in our unit and mentioned them to the director.  A month later I filled out another work order and gave it to the receptionist, Florentine.  She had two men over to our unit that day.  We love Florentine.

We are numbering every door in the Center and labeling every key to fit the number.  We have a box of loose keys.  No one knows which locks the keys fit.  So Sally and I have been testing them one by one on all the doors in the center and then tagging them.  I can’t remember whether it was classes in law school or business school that prepared me for this work.

Sally is making a collage for the Day Of Prayer here on November 11^th.  The verse is Philippians 2:9-10 and so she is putting Jesus Christ is Lord in many languages on the tables, on the walls, and on a bookmark.  They keep telling her that themed events are not the thing in Niamey but that doesn’t slow her down.  She’s terrific.

We have been to prayer time every weekday and the one on Wednesday lasts over an hour.  We participated in a translation graduation ceremony, learned all about the different people groups/languages that they are working with, and met many missionaries who are still going out East even though it is in the red (do not travel) zone.

We teach English to a couple from Toga twice a week for one hour and we are going to do after school tutoring at the Sahel School once a week.  I am also the after school playmate for the third grade girl next door.  Sally visits a orphanage once a week and teaches English to two women once a week.  She is also doing a Beth Moore Bible Study with expats from the Western church service.

Yes, we ask ourselves, “Did we need to come Niger to do these things?  Will this make the world a better place?  Are we helping to bring in the Kingdom?  Why are we here, again?  We believe we have contributed greatly to God’s sense of humor.  The fact is, we are here, having new experiences, meeting people who are unlike us in many ways and have much to teach us, and loving it.  We are sure that God is at work here in us and maybe even at this center – just exactly what that looks like we have not figured out yet and know that we may never know.      

So in the meantime, I have to count out dirty paper money into packs of ten.

Les Femmes de Niamey

The Women of Niamey 

The women of Niamey are beautiful.  Really they are.   They are ageless and I cannot tell the difference between rich and poor by the way they are dressed.  They all dress in a similar fashion and I would say fashionably.  They make this hot, dusty place alive with color and style.

We have seen women who are dressed in shorts, halter-tops, tee shirts, slacks, jeans, and swim suits – Okay, those would be mostly Expats and mostly at the American Rec Center.

Most of the Niamey women are dressed in outfits that have been made for them out of beautiful African cotton (Nigerian) fabrics.  There are many places to buy these colorful fabrics – all the local marches/markets - but there are very few places to buy a readymade outfit so sew they do.  New outfits are always coming from their machines. 

These women look “dressed up” no matter where they are coming from, where they are going to or no matter what they will be doing - shopping or cleaning or walking along the dusty roads or ironing or cooking or hanging out, doing the laundry, nursing a baby, working at an office or sewing – they always look put together - even in this heat. 

Women at the Baptism

I’d like to introduce you to some of them.

Mamata is 68 years old.  She is the one in the colorful outfit

There is not a wrinkle on her face.  I go to her “home” to sit on a mat (hoping my back will hold out) to help her learn to read and write in Zarma.  She speaks no French but that is not really a problem, as I don’t either.  She speaks no English.  But that is not a problem either.  Mamata is one of the highlights of my week.  She is a delight and is trying so hard to learn.  And each time I go she has on a different outfit with matching head scarf which she wears just on top of her head as I think it is too hot to wrap a scarf so it covers your neck.   She looks great.  When we go to her house, Richelle and I also wear “African” or at least long skirts and a scarf on our heads.  But we do not look nearly so “put together.”  I feel a little like I am in a costume.

Then there is Hauwa.  She is mid forties.  She’s has given birth to 7 children – the last two are twins who are 2 1/2.  Her husband died a year ago.  She is not originally from Niger so she went home to another West African country but she couldn’t find work.  She had contacts here since this is where they were living when her husband died so she came back with the twins leaving the others behind so she could work.  She sends much of what she makes to her other children.  She is so cute and always dressed very nicely even though what she is doing is cooking and baking and sweeping and scrubbing and washing and ironing - for us.  We are very lucky to have her as she is a wonderful cook (can make something good out of almost nothing) and she is a great baker.  Having baked goods twice a week may not prove to be a good thing in the long run.  I adore her.

Rahila

Rahila is a literacy trainer.  She writes materials to be used in literacy classes and trains teachers.  Right now she is recruiting at the local churches for congregations to send people to a workshop that she will be facilitating.  But she also sews and she always looks smashing.  She has made me a “pagna” that is a piece of cloth that you wrap around you like a skirt only she made mine a skirt.  Then she took material that I had purchased and made me an outfit.  Maybe I am beginning to look pretty fashionable myself.  Then again...

An unknown African Babe

Florentine is the hospitality, guest house, and conference room scheduler for the SIL Center (which is where we live.)  She speaks at least 3 languages but best for us is she is proficient in English and willing to speak it although I know she prefers French.  She encourages our French which is good.  She has many outfits and always looks great even though I know her life is not easy.

  

Isabelle is the beautiful Nigerian lady who had us for dinner in her home.  She speaks a native language and French mostly and just some English.  Her mother is the one who had English 40 years ago and still knew some with unbelievable pronunciation.  Isabelle is dealing with some family issues that are weighing on her and yet she too always looks very striking and put together.  To see her you would never know of the stresses in her life.   

Isabelle's Family

These women don’t let their hard lives show.  They are strong and they are beautiful and their colorful clothes reflect their gracious, warm, friendly, loving personalities.  God has gifted me with these women. 

Suite

Following. 

In a commencement address at Stanford, Steve Jobs talked about connecting the dots that made up the decisions in his life that got him the life he lived.  We just had two experiences that connected some dots for us that we would like to be sure to remember.

First, last night we went to dinner with two rather young missionary couples.  One has two kids and has been here for 17 years, the other has eight and they have been here since 2002.  Here are two couples, who have dedicated their lives to Christ and followed him around the world.  In our conversations, it was obvious that they love their life in Niger.  They love the life God has given them. 

The second dot came when my daughter, Michele, posted on Facebook a video of the old 1971 Young Life camp recruitment film, Time For Living.  If you haven't seen it, maybe Michele would put a comment on the blog with the email address.  Though it took an hour to download we watched it this morning.  Here is an organization, full of people who have dedicated their lives to Christ and followed him into the world of kids.  The important thing is they love kids and they love the life and ministry that God has given them.

We reflected on what Christ has done in our lives.  What would our lives be like if we hadn’t followed Christ into Young Life.  Or maybe better said, if we hadn’t been lured into Young Life and then learned to follow Christ as a result.  The film brought back all of the camping memories that we experienced, the kids we got to know, the fun we had, the laugh until you cry humor, the hikes, the climbs, the freedom to be crazy, the people in the club leadership teams, and then the God’s good news talks, both the hearing of them and the preparing of them.  How rich our life has been because God used Tom Scheuerman to get us where we could hear Jesus calling our names.  We absolutely love the life God has given us in a large part because of Young Life.

Now we find ourselves in Niger, and in our minds, following Christ.  We frankly are not sure why we are here.  We are not feeding the poor.  We are not advocating for the vulnerable.  We are not gaining any converts to Christianity.  I’m not sure we are needed at all.  Yet, God has us here and we love it.  Why, because we are following God.

Following is an end in itself.  Whether you do it for 17 years in the hottest and most undeveloped country in the world or do it with kids, or do it next door, or with your aging parents, or as a care giver, or wherever and however, the important thing is the following.  You can follow whether you are rich or poor, old or young, with kids or alone.  You can follow anytime, anywhere, and it doesn’t even have to be “productive.”

It is when you follow that you can look back, connect the dots that God has given you and feel blessed, to find that though sometimes hard, it is a good life.  Following God is not just sufficient; it is your calling in life.

God has taken us to Niger, why we don’t know.  Where is God taking you?  You may never know the why, the important thing is He is taking … you.

J'ai roulé hier

I drove yesterday.  

Yesterday, Barb gave me a great boost in confidence.  She thought I was ready to drive in Niamey.  So the two of us, Sally was too scared to go, went on a driver’s education ride.

Now some of you may not think that driving in Niamey is worth a whole blog.  Maybe it isn’t but for me it was and will be a major experience in my life.

Now I am not a novice in driving or riding in traffic.  I have lived through Viet Nam, Kazakhstan, Chile and Argentina, Hopkins, and Bayou La Batre, Al.  And Sally and I have put a few miles on our camper van.  But Niamey takes the cake.  Viet Nam may be crowded, Kazakhstan may be bumpy, but Niamey is random.  It is like they put a city in the desert by allowing people to build buildings and houses and then put in the roads with what was left.  There are few regular blocks.  Things angle all the time.  You would not call it “laid out."

The roads.  Some are paved, most aren’t.  Even the paved ones have significant speed bumps, potholes, and no shoulders, some are four lane, some are two lane.  You don’t drive on most roads: you navigate them.  In and out between people and cars.  Actually, some of the unpaved roads are 10-lanes, very wide, because people are just driving in the dirt wherever they want to and there are no buildings on either side.  Then add potholes, speed bumps, no centerline, donkey carts, people walking three abreast, motor scooters, taxicabs, bicycles, goats, camels, and road rage.  It is not for the timid.

The roads seem to merge, on a random basis, into a circle or roundabout every now and then.  5-8 roads coming together into complete car chaos.  Barb would tell me that this is a circle where the people in the circle have the right away, or this is a circle where the people on the right have the right away, or this is a circle where the people entering have the right away.  Get the idea.  It really doesn’t matter what the rules are, they practice Darwinism here, survival of the fittest.

I have seen several stop lights, one of which was working.  I stopped at the light but since it is so far back from the road, I couldn’t see the other traffic and since there was only one light, I couldn’t see the light.  I could tell when to go when the line of people behind me honked in heavenly harmony.  There are a few stop signs and a couple of yield signs but communication, by means other than honking is scarce.

When I drive at home I don’t have to always be fully attentive.  Yes, there are times when I am on my phone; times I am using GPS, and times when I am just in never, never land.  By and large, these times have not been a problem.  I’m not sure I can explain how attentive you have to be driving in Niamey.  It’s a 360-degree eyesight need along with ESP and intuition.  It is one thing to come close to hitting other cars but it is a whole other thing to come close to hitting goats, carts, and people.  There is no fear of cars in Niamey.  Motorcycles just cut in and go wherever want.  People walk on the road.  Goats do not walk single file.  Cars will use the on coming lane if their lane is blocked.

Fortunately, the people of Niamey are used to their roads.  Fortunately, they don’t start out with high levels of fear and trepidation like I do.  Fortunately, it seems to work.  You could add our driving safety to your prayer list.

I wish I had pictures to show you.  You have to be very careful about taking road pictures and the ones we have just don't do justice to the experience.

Le baptême - Dieu au Travail

A Baptism – God at work

One of our hopes for this venture to Niger is to see “God at work” in Africa.  This past Sunday we were invited to “experience” a baptism African village style.  This is the story of that day.

An American missionary and his 18-year-old niece (who had just graduated from high school and was here with his family for a year) picked us up at 7:30 am.   A God gift, his car had AC.  We drove out of Niamey on the main southern road for an hour and a half.  The countryside was pretty much green, with some scruffy trees and bushes, sparsely inhabited and consequently there was a lack of the piles of plastic bags we are used to seeing around Niamey.  We found out that he and his wife have eight kids ages 16 – 2 and have been in Niamey for 9 years with the exception of furloughs.

He does audio recordings of biblical passages in many languages.  He is also doing church planting.  He helped plant a church in the village we are going to by coming out once a month to meet with them.  Because of his relationship with this village and the church he was asked to come and participate in the baptisms.

We went past several small towns on the way.  They were all the same.  Little narrow “stores” or shops along the main road and then either clay brick houses or straw huts extending back behind them.  The shops all had tin roofs held up by wooden branches at each corner.  All of the ground was bare and sandy.

The village we went to was a little bigger and had “roads” going off from the main road.  We were told that there was some electricity by the main road but that was all unless you had a generator and only the local missionary had a generator.

We stopped first at the local missionaries’ house.  They are a couple in there fifties and have been there 25+ years.  Their house has the feel of the Out of Africa house without the openness.  They are walled in and there is no view.  As I said, they have a generator but it costs them a fortune to run it so much of the time they are in the dark and without fans.  But they did have a bathroom that we happily used.

We left the house and drove a small way on a road like path and then drove off into a field where we came upon a truly unique scene for us.  There were about 4 trees in the field of varying size.  Some men were in the shade of the big tree. The women were in the shade of another tree.  Some women were in the shade of the bushes and other men were in the shade of smaller trees.  All of them were waiting, patiently, not just for us but also for another church that was coming from 15 kilometers away.  There were many children just playing quietly and waiting.  We came up to the big tree and shook hands with the 50 or so men that were there.  Then Sally, the missionary’s wife, and his niece went over by the women.  It was not proper for them to wait with the men.

After a half an hour, we were joined by more people and a herd of 30 cattle.  Then we all, about 150 of us, started moving toward the baptism water.  The water was a watering/mud hole for the cattle.  There are no lakes, ponds, or rivers, just watering holes that form during the rainy season.  I guess God goes with what He has.  Four ministers, two missionaries and two local ministers waded about 30 feet into the muddy water until it got waist deep.  Then two by two they waded into the water to be baptized while the rest of the people sang songs and clapped.  The first couple to go out had to move the cows away.  I don’t know if there was much of a spiritual sense to the whole process other than the fact that here were three churches in this region, coming together to baptize about 40 people.  40 people were publically following Christ in a land that is 98+% Muslim.  In some communities here you get thrown out of your family if you convert to Christianity.  These particular communities seemed to be more receptive.  The local missionary said that in this area there have been many new churches started and that Christianity is exploding.  Wow!!

The Field

Finding Shade

                                               The Baptismal Font (It worked just fine.)

The Congregation

Local African Woman in Traditional Dress on Left

The ceremony took a long time and when it was over we all went to the local church.  The church held 150 people when everyone sat tight next to each other on benches.  Sally and I went in together but the pastor at the door directed me to the stage, Sally went and sat with the women because the women and kids sat on one side and the men on the other.  I assumed this wise man recognized or had heard about my many virtues and that was why I got an honored place on the stage.  Sally thinks it was because I was the oldest white male around.  Either way, I sat facing out over the sea of faces.  (Note: I was also sitting fairly close to a window that had the only breeze around.  I also sat on a chair instead of a bench.)  I was lucky!!

They began by singing songs in Gaurma.  We must confess that we don’t speak or understand Gaurma but the energy and spirit in the singing was very clear.  The place rocked.  There were two men on drums or bongos made of hide stretched over a box and then held tight by duck tape.  They could get all kinds of sounds out of these boxes by tapping on the side or in the middle and they played fast and hard.  I sat next to the missionary who brought us and at one point asked him if he was going to give the sermon.  He said he had on some occasions but not this time.  When the singing stopped, the local pastor asked him to give the sermon.  This had not been discussed before hand.  The missionary had given a sermon at another church not long before and it was in his bible so he gave the sermon.  He gave it in French and then it was translated into Gaurma.  Since I don’t have a good grasp of either language I understood nothing.

His sermon was not short.  After the sermon we sang some more and then the people who have not been baptized were asked to leave so that those remaining could take communion.  That still left a lot of people in the church.  One of the pastors from a small church got up to explain the meaning of communion, or so we were told.  After an hour of explaining, in both French and Gourma, we had communion.

Communion consisted of a bagette(s) of bread broken into a basket then passed around.  When they ran out they came back and broke more bread.  Then we all ate the bread.  More explanation and then they poured Diet Coke into a tray full of communion cups.  Both Sally and I got communion cups but more than half the people didn’t.  They got a cup that was passed along the row.  We gave thanks we were closer to the front.

After communion we sang some more.  Great singing but we had been in the church for over 2 and a half hours and it was getting hotter.  It was 100 degrees out, the sun was in full bloom, the church had a tin roof, there was just a hint of a breeze, and you had all of these bodies who had just been singing up a storm, packed together.  Sally was in the middle of it and noted that she could see the sweat dripping down the necks and faces of the women around her.  I know I was soaked with sweat and I had room.  We both did not understand a thing for the whole time.

After church everyone went out into the churchyard and stood around while the women brought out the food for the whole group of 150.  It was mainly rice but had macaroni noodles and spices in it and then small pieces of meat around the edges.  We weren’t going to stay to eat because we needed to get back but we ended up staying which was an experience in and of itself.  They brought us a 20-inch pan of food with a lid on it so that the food would 3 to 4” deep.  We were each given a spoon and were to dig in the common pot on our side of the pan.  After eating all we could we had barely made a dent in this pan of food.  We ate with the missionaries in a place of honor.  We think the Gaurma people didn’t even have spoons.  They just put their hands in and then eat!!

While we were at the church we met a young girl who had recently graduated from Moody Bible College and was now living in this village working with teens and older kids.  She had been in this village since last March.  She has no water and no electricity in her living space.  She goes over to the missionary’s house when they are using their generator to get on the Internet and read.  She gets into Niamey every other weekend.  I asked her how long she was planning on staying in the village.  She said it was her career to be here.  She had no plans to leave.  Talk about commitment.  She also said it was “The best year of her life.”

The drive back was uneventful but after we got back we talked about where we had seen God.  For me it was looking into those faces while up on the stage.   Remember, we understood nothing of what was said or sung so all we could do was to smile and look at the people, and look we did.  Here, in the heart of Niger, were people who had been touched by God.  People who would endure the heat, the smells, and the dual languages to worship God in a patient and enthusiastic manner.  For Sally it was the commitment of the women and children who would sit there in the heat for 2 ½ hours.  For both of us, it was the missionaries who felt so called by God to give their lives for others.  We saw and experienced people who were willing to be identified with Christ.  And in them, we saw God. 

Nos mondes sociaux

Our social worlds.  Someone asked about our “social life” here in Niamey.  We seem to live in two worlds here.  One is the world of expats and the other is the world of the Nigerians.  It’s not that they don’t mix because they do but our experiences with them, except for prayer time and coffee break, have been somewhat separate.  For example…

Our expat world is primarily at the SIL center.  There are two families of four that are translator families.  One lives on the center the other in town.  There is a lady from South Africa who has been doing literacy projects that lives here and has for a number of years.  Also, there are our friends Barb and Mary and Stan’s family of three. Then there is a couple from the US that has been here for 10 days and will be leaving soon.  They all speak English and French.

We go shopping, out to eat, church, and to the recreation center with them.  We spent a lot of time with the broader expat community here during the NUTS softball tournament.  People came from Burkina Faso, 6 hours away, just to play softball in the sun for two and a half days.  While the play is going on, the rest sit in the shade and talk.  Other than softball, we haven’t spent much time at the rec center.

This weekend we had dinner with the center’s expat group on Friday at a nice restaurant.  With kids there were 16 of us.  For some reason the conversation at our table got around to duck tape so I couldn’t help telling the Duck Joke. This particular restaurant will no longer be on our eating out list.  Then Saturday night went to a dinner/fundraiser at the Sahel School put on by the seniors (and their parents).  It was a Mexican meal that was really well done but all expats.  See Picture below. 

Our Nigerian world is quite different.  We aren’t with them quite so much but when we are the experiences are significant.  For example…

A lady who attends our Prayer Time and coffee break works on literacy at the center so we don’t see much else of her.  She’s the one that sings her prayers, brought us dinner one night, and is making Sally a skirt.

Another lady, who speaks English, is the receptionist at the center.  Sally and I spent about an hour talking to this lady about her job here and she was delightful.  Both of these women dress in these colorful outfits with matching headscarves. 

I got to know a young man who is Toureg and Muslim.  He works on Bible translation.  Go figure.  When I first met him he had a turban like cloth around his head.  All you could see were his eyes and yet you could tell they were smiling.  We don’t speak any of the same languages but we still have fun together.

We had lunch with Hauwa, the lady that cooks some meals and cleans for us.  She speaks four languages but none of them are English.  We had a great time with our French books out trying to communicate.

We went to dinner at the home of an African woman who prays with us.  Fortunately we went with the couple that was here for only a few days and they spoke French.  This was just a wonderful experience.  The lady that invited us had her mother come out and “talk” to us.  She looked sad and withdrawn.  We found out she took English for one year about 40 years ago.  So we began to talk English with her.  She lit up.  There was a huge change in her personality when we were giving her the English definitions for words.  Sally got out her picture book and used English words to point out people, like daughter, son, grandchild, etc.  She would write them down in French and English and then pronounce them in English.  She loved it.  Then our hostess’s young friend came with her baby.  She had just ridden 24 hours on a bus and then was going to ride another 36 hours to see her family, stay 5 days and then make the return trip.  She spoke English and was delightful.  We also heard from our hostess’s sister who had lost her job and was evicted from her home.  She was living with her sister.  It was an evening we will not forget.  

Finally, today we went to a small village about 50 miles from here for a baptism.  This trip warrants a separate blog, I’ll just say we were into the culture.

Expats or Nigerians, Christians or Muslims people have been warm and helpful.  We are blessed to have the opportunity to get to know them because both the expat world and the Nigerian world are so different from the Edina world.

Vie Quotidienne

Daily Life

We are routine people.  Human nature being what it is, we are no different in Niamey.  We are up at 6:15 – walk at 6:20 for ~50 minutes.  We would like to do an hour but even at that time of day the humidity makes it a challenge.  Actually we are just grateful that we are able to exercise.  Coffee, devotions, and breakfast of cereal and milk and then our workday begins.

Elgin is helping with fiscal year end accounting tasks and Sally runs errands with the staff for supplies or does odd jobs around the center.  Errands entail going to many different “stores” – sort of stores, more like kiosks – often not being able to get exactly what one is looking for.

Food seems plentiful in the city but we are told that the drought like conditions does cause big hunger issues in the more rural areas.

The city street markets are full of fresh tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, papaya, onions, bananas, watermelon, apples and oranges.  Mango season is June – August so we missed that.  I’m told broccoli season is comingJ  We stop at least 3 grocery stores every time we go – stock is limited and you can’t always get what you want.  There is only one store that sells the cereal we like and it is often out so I am learning to buy several boxes at a time!  Then another store has the bread we like.  And so it goes.

Beef i.e. hamburger is used a lot.  Actually the food is much like a Minnesota hot dish – pasta, rice or potatoes, with vegetables, meat and some kind of sauce to hold it all together.  Every meal seems similar to the one before.  So not exciting food but we are managing.

I am now cooking – very simple things – boring things actually.  I had Michele send me a banana bread recipe, as the bananas get ripe faster than we can eat them.  It calls for Quick Oats and I found it, surprise, surprise.  So I did my first baking but the oven isn’t set the same and I had it too hot.  We ate it but hopefully the next batch will be better.  At home I put chocolate chips in my banana bread and they don’t have those here.  So I cut up chocolate bar – not as good but will have to do.

We just recently hired Hauwa – a beautiful Benin woman – widowed, mother of 7 children - to do some cooking.  She also bleaches the vegetables and sweeps the tile floors and does the laundry – there is a washer but clothes are hung on a line.  Having her cook is wonderful as cooking on a gas stove in this heat is even hotter!!

So from a food standpoint Elgin is surviving, close but still surviving.

God Speaks in Many Languages

We are reading Jesus Calling as our devotional every morning even looking up the accompanying verses.  We do this at home too but with no TV or busy schedules to interrupt us we are more attuned.  It always amazes me how often the words for the day are so applicable to our lives. 

As we noted before, we have prayer time with the staff every morning Monday – Friday.  They have set days to pray for each staff member and their families and then whatever special needs are requested.  It is a rich time to hear prayers in French, Hausa and English – in song and spoken. Scripture is read in French and English too. 

Today at prayer time we started with Ps 23.  God, who is always pursuing us.  God, who is always with us in the quiet, in the green pastures, and in the deep valleys.  It reminded me once again, “God is Enough.”

Then there is SIL whose mission is to translate languages that do not have a recorded language, ultimately producing the Bible in the native tongue.  This came about when the founder of SIL was asked by a local person in Guatemala – “If God loves me so much, how come he doesn’t speak my language?”  The founder believed that God does speak all languages and that people need to be able to read the scriptures in their own languages.  This has led to issues of literacy that are also a concentration of SIL and the center where we are.  Literacy then leads to education and that to empowerment – all with the larger purpose of reaching people with the God of love. 

Makes me think of Young Life and how the purpose there is to speak God’s language in a way that speaks to young people.  Not only does God speak English, He talks “teenage.”  He talks whatever language we need to hear.  From my Beth Moore study, God speaks the language of the heart.  It is so good to be reminded of how big our God is and how many languages of love He speaks, and He doesn’t even have Rosetta Stone.

The Economics of Niamey

I had a chance to observe the Grand Marche (the big market) a couple of days ago as I tagged along with Barb when she was shopping for backing for new curtains.  The Marche was quite an experience and really impressive.  As you walk down the narrow hallway (4 ft) about every six or eight feet there is a new “merchant”, on both sides.  They hang their wares in high rows because the stalls aren’t very deep.  As a result, the sun can’t get through so the hallways are rather dark and shaded.  Not letting the sun in helps keep the heat down.  So it is a trade off between light and heat.

Where we started was the men’s clothing section.  There are no signs to tell you this but you could tell from the merchandise in the stalls.  Each stall had one person in it.  Some were alert, some were sleeping, some were getting ready for prayers by washing their feet in the hallway, and some were chatting with their neighbor.  Each person would say the same things about their merchandise as the person next to them, not much, just that it was the best.  As you walked down the hallway, you would see the same basic merchandise in stall after stall.  Maybe the shirts would go from 5 stalls of short sleeve button in the front shirts, to 5 stalls of a mix, to 5 stalls of golf shirts, etc.  But much of the clothing was the same.  We walked a long way down one hallway and then turned to go back on another.  I was told we only scratched the surface of the Marche.  There had to be thousands of stalls and thousands of individual merchants.

Then on the streets leading to the Marche there were stalls, carts, and people selling much of the same stuff.  If you were selling shoes, your shoes looked like everyone else’s shoes.  If you were selling SIM cards, and there were many who did, your SIM cards were just like everyone else’s. 

Across the street from the Marche at one point were at least two blocks of vender stalls that were selling cotton material.  Each stall had rolls and rolls of material lined up around it.  At one point we walked between the stalls, away from the street, and behind the stalls was a whole other level of stalls and behind them was another, four or five deep.  All selling cotton material.

Then we went to a “store” that was selling cotton material.  It was jammed with rolls of pretty much the same material as we saw in the stalls.  The store was hot and musty.

Finally, we went to a new store that had just been built and it carried Bed, Bath, and Beyond like products.  It was air conditioned, had big aisles, and away from the busy streets.  It was empty.  I was told only NGOs shop there because the locals don’t use many of the products they sell and because the locals don’t have the money.

My reaction to all of this is that it is entrepreneurial capitalism of the first order.  Everyone is his own businessman.  There are no corporations.  No franchises.  It doesn’t appear that any two people are working together.  The thing that is missing is any concept of marketing.  The ones that come closest to having any marketing are the beggars who drag along their crippled sister or blind mother to get sympathy money.  No one is selling products that are better or different than someone else.  The only visible differentiation is in the haggling over the price.

I am sure new products get introduced into this system but I have yet to see any reference to “new” anything.  In fact, there is no reference to any thing: there are no signs of any kind.  Can you believe a world without advertising?  It is beyond my comprehension.

If I compare Niamey economics to American economics I see one major difference.  Niamey has capitalism, that is an economic system in which the means of production are privately owned and operated for profit in a competitive environment, and it has aggressive entrepreneurs just like in the US.  Niamey has some of the elements of marketing, like personal sales, distribution, and promotional pricing like we have in the US.  Yet the economics of Niamey aren’t nearly as successful and orderly as in the US.  Why?  What is lacking is advertising.  Advertising is what made/makes America great.  If you can’t communicate the distinguishing features of your products or services from someone else your entrepreneurial drive and competitiveness goes out the window. 

I always suspected this.  Just thought you’d like to know.

Life in Niamey

We thought the since the last post was a little heavy, we would lighten this one up.

Here are some pictures of some of the activities in Niamey.

First, over the last two weeks about 20 SIL people from nearby countries have been learning Translation 101.  These are the people from the local villages who go back and record the language and then they bring it back here where NGOs, who can't travel, help them put it in writing.  They had a graduation ceremony and Sally and I helped pass out the certificates.

 Sally went to an orphanage with the son of a friend of ours who lives here.  Kids in their school go on a regular basis.  The girl holding the baby on her lap is also a child of SIL parents.

 This is a picture of Sally's "seamstress."

One of our jobs is to go shopping.  This is the Petit Marche.  At 4:00 it is chaos.

 Finally our church.  In English.

Joy

The word for today is Joy.  The French word for Joy, is Joy.  (I can learn this kind of French vocabulary)

We’ve been wrestling with conflicting things we’ve heard in the last few days and we thought we would share them with you.

Sunday morning we listened to a sermon by Tim Keller on “Missions.”  He used John 17:13-19 as his text and talked about the need for Jesus’ disciples to get out and serve, and when we do that, it will bring “joy” to our lives.  Joy!  Not comfort, but Joy.  It struck us that it seems like we are always seeking joy in our lives and here is a way Jesus says is a fool proof way we can get it.  Joy should be a by product of ‘getting out.”

Then we went to church Sunday night and the sermon was on “Not giving up.”  The man who was giving the sermon asked, “How many of you at one time or another have just wanted to give up and go home?”  Just about everyone raised their hands.  Most of these people are missionaries who have given most of their lives to be here or places like this, yet were not always feeling joy.  If anyone is going to feel the joy from “getting out” then these people should be feeling it, yet, it’s not always there.

Then one of our new friends here expressed just how hard it was and how tired she was.  To us, if you have spent 20 years of your life in Niamey, you get to feel tired.  But according to Jesus, aren’t you also supposed to feel joy?  She is tired, not joyful.  I’m not sure “joy” has been the emotion that tops the chart for us either.  Was Jesus wrong?

We think the answer lies in the word joy.  It has two meanings.  Each meaning can have a great impact on our worldview.  The meaning of joy that Sally and I were using was one of pleasure.  Some other words with this meaning are happiness, bliss, and ecstasy.  This definition is about us and how we feel.  I have to tell you, you don’t always feel this joy in Niger.

The other definition of joy is delight.  With delight, you don’t “delight” something; you take delight “in” something.  The focus of the delight is not you it is the thing you take delight in.  Our expectation of joy had the wrong focus.  Tim Keller is still a good preacher and Jesus was not wrong.  Getting out doesn’t always make us feel happier, getting out gets us closer to Jesus so that we can increase our delight in him.

The people here are not always feeling pleasure and happiness but they sure have a delight in the Lord.  Maybe Jesus was trying to tell us that when we feel unhappy or overwhelmed the best cure is to get out (out of ourselves) and find delight in the Lord by serving wherever he might send you.

But there’s a worldview lesson here too.  If our worldview is a belief that our lives should be filled with times of pleasure and happiness we will experience the highs of those times when we feel joy, but we will also feel those times when we don’t.  However, if our view is a belief that our lives should be lived so that we take delight in the Lord, then no matter where we are emotionally, we can do things to find a joy in the Lord.

We’re working on changing our worldview while we are here.  The change doesn’t come easy.