Gidan Yazi Dogo

Today, all of us split up to have lunch with Nigerien families. In a few weeks, we will be staying in Nigerien homes for a week, but this was a taste. Larai da na, mun zo gidan Yazi Dogo. Yazi is a famous artist here in Niger. He is a Hausa film actor, and he directs a theatre troupe, but he also seems to be the point person for just about any traditional artist. He comes to the CFCA (our home) a lot, because he teaches a course on the performing arts of Niger to the BU students. A few nights ago, Yazi brought the musicians who will teach our drumming classes to meet us. We each had a turn on the djembe, the kalangu, and the calabash. The djembe-kalangu guy is fantastic and incredibly goofy. He and Yazi make a pretty dynamic pair. The kalangu has a unique "doingy" sort of sound. The Nigerien kalangu is pretty small, and it fits tightly up against the armpit. That explains why it's known as the armpit drum. It has ropes on it that the player squeezes by lowering his arm. That changes the tone by tightening the drum's skin. The kalangu player demonstrated for us how the drum beats and tones have meanings which correspond with Hausa words. It was used to communicate over long distances. Yazi, who gave us our Nigerien names, explained to each of us the meaning. Mine is from the Kanori language. It means "Daughter of the Chief." Other meanings range from "Born when a pregnant woman is out in the bush, looking for a camel," "Born when the mother is looking for water in the desert," "Born on Friday," "Born at sunrise," "Light," "Patient," "Welcome" and "Shadow." Anyway, Yazi has a way of gathering interesting people together.

I didn't know what to expect of his house, but it was just right. It was very simple. His children and grandchildren live in adjoining rooms off a courtyard. We spent most of our time in the courtyard. Family members kept on passing through. He, his wife and their unmarried son appear to sleep in a room that doubles as a living room. It is off the courtyard as well. Madam Yazi Dogo started an NGO to teach women sewing and embroidery. Now, she runs a small business selling bags of water that they freeze in their freezer. Kids kept on coming in to buy ice bags. I'm sure business will pick up as it gets hotter. Word on the street is that it is 105 degrees today, but we've heard tell of temperatures of 136 degrees or even passing the thermometer's maximum of 140 when in the Sun. We'll take it as it comes. Yazi ended up showing us a short documentary that the Nigerien news channel made about him. Madam Yazi Dogo looked through the photos from home that we brought to show.

They told us that we should come back anytime, and I think that that is expected of us. We will visit for an afternoon here and there, and we will bring small gifts of food each time. I am looking forward to playing cards with Yazi's college-aged son. It is nice to have a Nigerien family. I hope that visiting people in their homes will allow me to make some female friends, especially. Many girls my age are busy keeping up their homes and having babies, so it has been a lot easier for us to find Nigerien men our age to talk to. The university is a bit of a trek away, but perhaps I can meet more people over there, too. Not every girl is married at 17.

To. Kala tonton. Next time, perhaps I will tell you about all the joking here. There is a lot of laughing and teasing among the Nigerien staff and teachers. I love that.

Les Langues

FoFo!
Sannu da zuwa. Yauwa, sannu dai. Ina kwana? Lafiya lo. Ina gagia? Babu gagia. Ina aiki? Aiki da godiya. Ina gida? Gida lafiya. Ina ciniki? Alhamdu lilahi. Ina saniyi? Aqwe saniyi. Me sunnanki? Sunnana Maduram. To, madella. To, kala tonton. Sai anjima.

Suddenly, the litany of greetings that we learned around a table in the library of the BU African Studies department have earned us huge smiles, shared laughter and a bunch of ridiculous situations.

Yesterday, we went to Le Musee. Niamey is not exactly a tourist capital, but it Le Musee nice national museum sort of place. It is a park with scattered buildings containing artifacts, cages with cramped animals and model villages. My favourite part, however, was the tent that is filled with traditional artisans working with leather, metal, wool and wood. When Tahanci (Shira), Larai (Laura) and I were able to greet them with "Sannu da aiki!" (Greetings as you work!), their faces immediately brightened. They explained what they were doing and taught us new vocabulary. They speak Hausa and Zarma in addition to varying levels of elementary French. Everyone was so eager to speak, so patient, and so enthusiastic.

The big topic of conversation is the "saniyi" (cold). Apparently, it's quite cold here. I've been wearing a light sweater in the evening, so yes, I suppose it's cold.

This evening, I sat on the stairs near the night watchman and added sentences from him to my Hausa notebook. I'm quite taken with learning Hausa through Hausa or Hausa through French. Our orientation Zarma class is taught using French.

Yesterday, we also went to visit Barke, a former BU student, in his house outside the city. There are sandy expanses everywhere here, so his house felt very isolated. He and his adopted son made us very strong tea. I ended up wandering outside and sitting on a bench beside a small group of girls aged 3-9. The 9-year-old was the only one who spoke a little bit of Hausa and French. The others only speak Zarma. After a bit, they became less shy. I picked up a stick and began to teach the eldest one tic-tac-toe with rocks and sticks. I wasn't sure if she really understood, but we played several rounds. Many more kids gathered, so I organized a circle for the "Down By the Banks" hand clapping game. Instead of learning the song, we counted up to dix as we went around the circle. The kid whose hand gets hit on dix was out. I've decided that I love teaching simple games like that without using much language. It involved a lot of jumping around, moving kids' hands and dramatic facial expressions. The game was a huge hit. Soon, we had tons of kids and many from our American group playing. Meanwhile, some of the guys from our group were playing a big game of soccer with the older boys.

That evening, we went to visit Barke's friends, who are fishermen on the Niger River. Everything around us is pretty arid at this time of the year, but there is quite a bit of green by the river. They invited us to go for a ride in their wooden canoes at dusk. They paddled and we bailed out water. The river was beautiful--so calm and misty. Some people saw a hippo, which is actually pretty frightening, because they are quite dangerous. Tahanci and I spoke with our First-semester Hausa knowledge to one of the fishermen as he paddled. We were very excited about asking questions and breaking out some of our vocabulary, but when I translated it into what the English equivalent of the conversation would be, it was pretty hilarious.

Imagine this with exaturated body actions.

Us: Bird! That is a bird!
Hamad: Yes, bird.
Us: Ohh! That is a boog bird, right? The boog bird is above the water.
Hamad: What?
Us: Boog. Little, boog. Little, boog. (hand gestures).
Hamad: Big. Big bird.
Us: Oh. That is a big bird.
Hamad: Yes.

Needless to say, Hamad, Tahanci and I laughed a lot on that boatride.

We went on a "windy-windy" (promenade) in groups of two, each with a Nigerien guy from the neighborhood. Sani, Hamudsha and I went to la grande marche and la petite marche, which are crowded, winding markets/bazaars with a huge assortment of things. I spoke a lot of French with Sani, and he told me the Hausa names for each of the things. We came across a bunch of clay, bark, sticks, and amber that have medicinal uses.

As you may have gathered, I am enjoying immensely the chance to learn and speak many different languages. In a land with many languages, everyone is acustomed to teaching, learning and stumbling along. Sure, there are lots of things that I wish I were able to express, and the language barrier is real, but over the last few days, language-learning has been a good way of connecting, too.

Sai anjima.
Maduram (which is the Nigerien name that was given me in a naming ceremony.)

Top: Larai, Tahanci, Zarai, Maduram, Yakawa, Ettikas, Alkemisa, Naito
Bottom: Inazaden, Cawje, Hamudsha, Lawali, Inuwa, Betoji
We were visiting a women's microfinance collective, and they helped us tie our scarves.

Sannunku!

Sannu da zuwa!
Welcome to my blog. Thanks (Na gode) for coming. This is about all I have for now. I'll be leaving on January 21st and returning May 15th.
Sai anjima.
Libby

Some news clips about Africa of the Onion variety:

http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=Pwom49awRKg

http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=3q_iqrvnC_4&NR=1