Niger 6/22
Flights anywhere for me start on a bit of a melancholy note. The Puget Sound is just so beautiful to fly over, and it puts any destination to the test, and seeing the island where I grew up doesn’t help. And this was a very beautiful day to fly. After the Sound, we enjoyed the Canadian Rockies and vast forests of Alberta and BC before these gave way to Tundra, and the occasional unsightly defracking operation. Eventually even the Tundra was overcome by massive glaciers. There is an irony to going to one of the hottest places on earth by way of the coldest, and still they are both deserts, hostile to as much life as they can hope to squelch.
It was so strange to watch the sun set and rise almost simultaneously. Flying so far north, so close to the solstice, and into the east, my view became both east and west for a moment, and I lived a two days without night. Flying over the Atlantic, I had a new appreciation for Vikings and other medieval explorers, braving such an expanse. Overcast denied me a proper introduction to the British Isles (we flew right over Dublin and London, but I only got a glimpse of the mouth of the Thames) but the English Channel was clear and beautiful. It got me thinking about how this little stretch of water has protected Britain for almost a thousand years, and pretty well before that to boot. It got me thinking about how easily planes can cross it, and still it protects. The French countryside was just beautiful, green and bucolic with castles and even a palace (not Versailles) to look at as we landed. Charles De Gaulle is a massive facility, and it felt almost like we were spending more time taxiing than the 10 hour flight. There were rabbits living along the side of the tarmac, and we were greeted by an ever optimistic yet never to be fulfilled mounted Concord, yearning for one more flight. The interior was equally massive, yet apparently smaller than Singapore’s (though de Gaulle felt the size of the country of Singapore).
The next flight gave stunning views of Paris (but I missed the Eiffel Tower from behind the wing, I’m 0/3 on landmarks, not even a Notre Dame bonus round!). The Riviera and first sight of the Mediterranean was a sight to behold! I was surprised how quickly Africa came up, until I realized we were flying over a decent sized Island I had never heard of. Then, Africa! So very brown, so very different from the Tundra, but somehow the same in its sparseness. I was surprised at first how well the coast was developed, but the Sahara quickly took over. It was un-photographable. A giant blur of khaki, as if you could see heat rose from below, blending with the sky and eventually turning blue. There was no horizon, just khaki, white, then blue. I couldn’t explain the site of it; it looked as if dust had been kicked up to 38,000 feet. I will say this, the food on Air France was superb (especially a zucchini tomato tartar with Feta (called sheep’s milk cheese thanks to the EU) complimentary wine (it was like it is Coca-Cola).
The decent into Niamey is beyond description. It’s greener than I expected, but then again, it is the rainy season. Small communities (too small to be called villages) formed tight circles. Some were just a hundred yards from the next one. They were often huddled near long pools of orange colored water, left from the recent rains. It looks very wet hear, but this water couldn’t survive ten months of heat. “Poverty” here is so different from in the Dominican Republic. In the D.R. the poor lived in shanty towns constructed of the refuse of the wealthier populations, inviting a comparison and stating rather matter-of-factly that they are poor. Here there are no such refuse, and without the comparison, the homes seem more tolerable, even if they offer fewer conveniences. To say primitive would be cruel, they were more timeless than anything, functional, but lacking imagination of a more material life. It raises the questions again of why we are here, and what do the people want from us, if they want at all. In the D.R., there was a materialism that could be aspired to, but I don’t know if that’s the case here. The traditional way of life has been robbed from them, make no mistake. From colonization, to climate change, to timeless struggles between ethnicities, there is no going back. But I don’t know if what going forward is has been settled on. And this might be as big a contributing factor as the increasing frequency of droughts. Of course a pragmatist would highlight that a lack of water trumps such philosophizing, and he would be right to do so. Still, I can’t help but think if there was a goal in mind, something greater than guilt driving our work, we would have greater momentum.
The airport was a bit of a harrowing experience. Disembarking first, I was separated from Jeff and Ashley after misguidedly trying to photograph them coming off the plane. Then I had to face the music that I had left my immunization records behind. (I had separated them from my passport when I submitted for the Visa, and didn’t combine them later. $40 in fines later (though this might not have been the right price) we were off. We spurned some young men who carried our luggage because we had mistaken them for World Vision staff and didn’t have the appropriate tip with us. We then left the terminal, past a manual gate with an armed guard, waited for a trio of donkeys to cross the street and were off on our way. At least at this time of year, Niamey is much greener than I expected. The orange pools were everywhere, and I couldn’t help but think how dirty these were. People used them for laundry, washing vehicles, play grounds for children and watering their goats. Goats were everywhere, and donkey’s too, but so far no camels. Traffic was light. I expected crazy congestion between animals and vehicles, but I don’t think the economy is lively enough even for this.
Our driver (who was Taureg!!) told us we’d be separated; Ashley and I would stay at a hotel, and Jeff at the WV team house. Ashley’s French was a spectacular blessing. We settled in our rooms, with AC and TV, freshened up and waited to hear from Jeff. My toilet seat was broken, and as the attendant tried to make arrangements, I asked if I had time to take a shower before he fixed it. Five minutes later he turned up with a bottle of red liquid. I’m not sure what happened. I showered, dressed, and noticed that the bug free air turned into a swarm. Two peacocks, countless rainbow colored lizards, and a toad were feasting. These bugs weren’t there before, and by the time I finished dressing, the bugs were gone. Jeff seemed stranded at the team house, with a great deal of confusion around our itinerary, so Ashley and I planned to meet for dinner. We dipped our toes in a clear but fly filled pool (it felt so good) and then were delighted to have Jeff join us after all. Conversation was heavy, but necessary, war stories and talk of fears and contingency plans. Ashley and I had lamb and our fair share of cokes. Retiring for the night, I called Darling for a few minutes and retired. This morning seems to be a bit of a breather, and we hope to meet up with Jeff for lunch.