The air, the air, it’s everywhere… (written Jan 09)

These are the mountains just west of my house.

This is the same view, but no mountains, just dust!

In Fulfuldé it’s sollare, in French it’s poussiére, in English it’s dust, but no matter what you call it… it’s everywhere. All those wonderful hills and mountains I kept talking about—gone. At first, looking at the closer hills one could mistake it for fog, but the dust is so thick, that past about 500 meters the landscape disappears completely. It’s not really a bother in the day-to-day, but it does make traveling on already dusty roads that much worse. Since reading Grapes of Wrath I feel like I should probably note that it’s not the dust bowl over hear. A lot of the plants, especially the large Teak leaves, have turned brown from the dust settling, but it’s not like I have to wipe down my furniture and windows, dust my food off before eating, or anything extreme like that.

            It’s a new year and my second month at post, things seem to be moving a little more coherently now, but before I start talking work-stuff, I’d rather track my progress on the home front. In the Grand North, it’s customary to have large walls around one’s house for protection, privacy, to keep the goats out, etc. Although I appreciate my cement wall for all the above reasons, it does at times feel a little self-isolating, especially when the neighborhood kids are lurking on the other side. These kids and I had a funny relationship from the start—they would just stare (likely in shock and awe), sometimes daring to yell out la blanche (French for white person) or nassara (Fulfuldé for stranger or white person) once I’ve passed or entered my house, and I, in response generally greeted them bonjour/bonsoir/ca va? /etc. (or ignored them depending on my mood and their distance). Anyway, their curiosity got the best of them during their vacation, and in the days between Christmas and New Year’s they finally decided to cross through the gate and get a good look at Boo Radley. The thing is, as much as they are loud and rambunctious together, the second their feet hit my porch they become silent and shy, which makes it different to make conversation and attempt to befriend them. One afternoon a bunch of kids are hanging around my porch and as I’m attempting to drag some words out of them I remember that I have crayons and a coloring book left over from gifts I brought for my homestay families. Once I bring these out and start handing out blank pictures and crayons, more and more kids start to trickle into my yard until there are at least 15 kids (ages 2 – 13) hanging out, coloring, and of course, fighting over crayons. All in all it was a good time, and even though the kids are still kind of shy, they frequent the porch to say hi (actually looking to see if I have a new a coloring book or candy) and I stop by and inquire about whatever activity may be keeping them interested that day.

This makes traveling less fun.

            In terms of work, after “establishing my presence”—meeting officials and visiting offices, my next step is to start meeting community groups and farmers and finding out what kind of work can be done in the area. Even though many of the offices seemed to be in an end-of-the-year lull, one community group leader seemed eager to work with me and introduce me to his group. Unfortunately, the same day that we had planned to go see his group’s land, he informed me that there was some trouble amidst—the members of his group are unable to work in their fields because a family of lions (3) have left the parklands and descended into this community group’s field looking for food—a threat to their cattle, their crops, and their lives. When I told a fellow PCV about my “work dilemma,” her response was comically accurate: “well, we’re definitely in Africa”. Unfortunately, the problem has not yet been solved and the group is waiting on a response from the local MINFOF delegation. In the meantime, I have been able to get a start on things, beginning with a trip into the park to visit my supervisor, the park conservationist, to get some contacts and make a work plan. To get to him, I had to endure a 3 hour moto ride on a pretty terrible road alternating between rocks and sand (and at one point a shallow stream), and then cross the Faro River by canoe (and then do this all over again to get back). Even though I came home covered in dust and with an extremely sore butt, the day was hailed a success. With the help, I was able to schedule a meeting with several community group leaders for this Friday (Jan. 14) and will be staying in the MINFOF office outside the park for a few days so I can meet with groups individually, visit their villages and hopefully see the land they work on.

            Wildlife count: I saw some hippopotamuses in the Benoué River upon entering Garoua one morning, while crossing the Faro River I saw some baboons drinking by the riverbank, and as we were leaving the park I saw a whole bunch of coup de bouffon (a kind of antelope). 

Even though the large rivers like the Faro and Benoué are still full of water, animals, and all things good. Almost all of the other streams, brooks, etc. have dried up. The crazy thing is (from what I'm told) is that most of these bodies of water will be flooded during the rainy season, but for now people with no access to wells are digging for water.