Saturday

Saturday April 25, 2009-

Saturday! Would be more exciting if yesterday hadn’t been a holiday anyway. In fact, I was busier today than yesterday in many ways. Started by getting up around 6:30 again, soon after sunrise. It’s so easy to get up early here since the sun is always raising 7 or earlier and I sleep outside so the biological clock is more in tune to raising earlier, whereas in the states, especially in Washington, the sun raises later, as late as 9 it seems to me, and I sleep inside so can avoid the sun if I want to sleep in. Not possible here.
Woke up, did a quick work out and then was off to Rahman’s wedding. At 730, I went to the mosque near the bus station where they did the praying and then came back to his old house, which is just two doors down from mine, for the chatting and eating that accompanies a wedding. We were fed tapioca and a meat sauce with bread, was actually really good. Spent about an hour there chatting and eating, then since I had run through my usual conversations (hey you’re white and you hear zarma!, the heat, where can I get a visa?, your buddy just got married so he’ll be tired tomorrow –nudge nudge, wink wink, etc), I took my leave.
On the way out Rahman asked if they could use my electricity to power some speakers so they could have music. The house they were at is his OLD place and since he moved the power company had cut the power and so he brought over a long extension cord and we ran it from my house through the yard of the empty house next door and to his place. No problem, I told him it was his wedding gift.
So here’s how weddings work here: Once the man has found who he wants to marry, he approaches her family and they set a price, once paid the wedding can go ahead. It involves praying in the morning, then a day of leisure and food, and that night the man goes to the woman’s house to "take" her, and him and his buddies speed off on their motorcycles and in their cars to the new husband’s house where the new wife is installed and hangs there for a week and all her friends come see her in her new place and friends and family of both come to bring them gifts.
After leaving his place I came home (the whole 40 feet away) and played harmonica for a couple hours, forgot how much I used to like practicing an instrument, so was back reliving my hours of practice I used to do in high school. Wouldn’t say I’m getting good yet, but I’m starting to be more comfortable and quicker at figuring stuff out.
Then I read a little more from a book of Edgar Allan Poe poems I have. I’ve decided to try and memorize the entire "The Raven" poem. It’s long, but if I can do two stanzas a day, I can have the whole thing done in 9 days. Something to fill my time with, better than thinking too much. Quote the raven, Nevermore.
Napped again for the hotter part of the day, and about 3pm made my way out into the market. I’m having a tailor here make me a suit. It’s an experiment. He made me some nice dress pants, so now I’m giving him a chance to do the jacket too. We’ll see if it comes out nice or not. I was adamant I don’t want the ‘funk suits’ people wear here, real baggy jacket with short sleeves and a much too high cut. For good or for bad only gonna cost me about 30 bucks.
Then was off to hang at Illiasou’s shop for a couple of hours. He’s a good buddy of mine here, sells sodas, bags of water, yogurt, and a local millet drink (which is actually quite tasty once you get used to it, first time it’s a bit of a surprise).
-- Side note that here in Niger and elsewhere in west Africa, bags of water, juice, even yogurt are all over the place. They’re GREAT and so convenient, but unfortunately create a bunch of waste. I would love to see them in the states, especially since we could recycle the plastic. There’s not much better than a cold bag of yogurt in the morning. –
Illiasou’s shop has a TV, so half-watched Die Hard With a Vengeance dubbed in French, half-wrote/recited the first two stanzas of The Raven for two hours. Wrote a short poem about African kids, just a first draft but here ya go:

Bare footed, heedless of sharp rocks
Or thorns or other sole-full shocks,
They run and shout
And chase each other about
How many children can one country contain?

Whether in bright dresses
Or shirts and pants torn from the stresses
Of this daily life,
Dirty faces attest
To hot weather and strife.

Often cheerful, sometimes tearful
Always staring at "the white."
They’re often the part that softens my heart
In a country which as accustomed me to hard sights.

I’ve gotten more into writing, including poetry, as of late. Something I miss from the days when I was in school and that I have sadly let fall to the side since, much like playing and practicing an instrument. It’s too easy to NOT do something, even something that brings you joy. Why do we do that to ourselves? Why do we stop doing the things that bring us the best joys?
One joyful experience I was all too happy to enjoy today was the new toy a friend of mine across the street received from Nigeria today.
I was headed back home from Illiasou’s place and saw a group gathered around a table or something just around the corner from my house. Interested, as it seemed everyone else was, I wandered over to see what it was. It was a pool table!!!! Irikoy beri!!!! I was so excited. Who cares if it’s missing a ball, or that it’s a small table with small sized balls? It’s mostly flat and has a cue!
There was quite a sizeable crowd gathered around to watch the two guys playing. I saddled up next to my friend and inquired about the table and he said it was his and that it had just been unloaded from his friend’s truck direct from Nigeria. He asked if I knew how to play, did they have snooker in the states? (It’s not a snooker table, I don’t think, just a small pool table, but then again I don’t really know much about snooker). I told him I’d played a little before and so I was up for the next game.
They played 8 ball like in the states, but scratches mean the next player gets two shots instead of one, even for table scratches. No problem, just note to self - don’t scratch. I came out well, went up one ball to six right away, but then ran into that age-old problem of all his balls blocking the shots I have on mine. So after a while he finally made a run and it was three to one and then… I missed an easy shot and he ran the rest. Sad end to a game that started with some good shots, a cut and a bank that had the crowd laughing about Anasaras and how they know games. The guy went off laughing, telling me to meet him same time tomorrow.
Luckily no one else wanted to play so I got in a second game against the guy who had brought the table to town. Won it and regained the honor of white people everyone at being good at bar games J Had to snap a couple pictures as I walked away. Amazing! A pool table in Gaya. I would never have imagined.
So back at my house now, waiting for the rice to cook for my dinner, should be good by now actually, so I’ll sign off for today. Three days gone and three actual posts. I might make this after all.