"Make an effort, will you?"

Several weeks ago, I finally got my good friend Mariama on the phone. I had wanted to see her for a long time but didn’t know where she lived (she got married last year) and the phone number she used in March wasn’t valid any longer so I couldn’t reach her. Finally, she called me on the project phone and I invited her over one Friday afternoon, which she seemed thrilled about. I was really looking forward to seeing her again; after all, we were inseparable during all those teenage years and I consider her one of my closest friends in Niger. Last year, I briefly met her husband and I was looking forward to seeing their little son, Ahmed. So even though I had a lot to do, on Friday afternoon, I was there waiting. The coffee was hot, the cakes were on the table and I had a little bag of presents, both for her and for the baby. But Mariama did not show up.

She did not send me an sms either. Nor did she send a girl with a note (as she usually does), nor come by and see me and see if we could perhaps find another time. Finally, I sent her an sms myself a week ago, saying that I was sorry she had missed our rendez-vous as I was really looking forward to seeing her again, and perhaps she could get in touch and tell me when would be a good time. Then all of a sudden my sister-in-law phoned and said there was a girl at her door with an urgent message to me from Mariama. Here goes the note:

Zinder the 30th 2007

Many good things I wish you, my dear! First of all, please excuse me for missing out on your appointment the other day, I was sick. My husband and son greet you! Esther, please, I have a problem that I want you to solve for me. If possible, Esther, I need money and would like you to lend me 15,000 CFA (€25), it’s urgent. And you must give me a new appointment so that we can see each other. I am counting a lot on you. I’m sorry for having to ask you. I don’t know who else- Make an effort, will you? Or call me because I have no more money on my phone.

Mariama

Lol, now what is there to say about it? My only friend who has never asked me for money had suddenly found an “urgent” excuse to ask me for – what is in this country – a considerable amount, without either seeing me first or telling me what the cause of this urgency is. I wasn’t happy about it, nor was I surprised. After all, I am in Niger, and here, everybody thinks that I have infinitive sums of money stored away. After all, I have relatives, relatives in Sweden, relatives who work and who should be able to provide me with all the things that I lack, at the simple price of my independency. That’s the line of thought from this culture at least.

But I have no such relatives. I have no such family. I do not possess an infinitive amount of money. It is true that – from their perspective at least – I do have money, but the money I do possess is expendable and my only option is to make it last. I have money, but I do not walk around – in true Nigerian atmosphere – wasting it on all sorts of unnecessary material things such as new shoes, clothes, perfumes and handbags. Last year, Mariama had an over-paid job working for as a nurse for MSF, but although she earning twice what the state would be providing, she complained that the MSF were probably not giving them all their fair share. This is Niger in a nut shell. And yes, I am sure that more money will help this country. It brings forth such power of initiative and positive thinking. Not.

So back to my friend and I. I was disappointed by the letter, because Mariama was my only friend who had never begged me for anything before and this was one of the reasons why I felt so close to her. I didn’t feel that she was after me for my money. Now all of a sudden, she spills no time getting right down to business. She has not even been over to say “hi”, but she is already sure that I will feel obliged to “make an effort” and give her (which would be the equivalent of lending in this country) half a salary because it is “urgent”. Well, isn’t it always? I have still not made up my mind what exactly I’m going to say about the money, but I sent her an sms inviting her over on Tuesday afternoon, and then I’ll just have to take it from there. Handing her the money would by my way of giving up on our friendship, and even if I would be willing to do that, I’m not sure I care to spend €25 on doing that.

Mariama and I posing in front of the monkey cage (1994)

Mariama and I posing the Nigerien way (1996)

Mariama and I in "uniforme" (1997)

Maybe I’m just being overly skeptical and that she has indeed a legitimate problem for expecting me to hand over this money, but it’s like all things in Niger – they all believe in a quick fix and yet you have to learn that there is none. “Alternative strategies” is a good expression but translating it into something that they understand and want to listen to is another matter. Now, from all this I have learned one thing. In Niger, you have acquaintances, some of which you enjoy to bits. However, true friendship is hard to achieve because there will always be that little element of coming from different social environments and having difference skin tones. I’ll never stop being a nasara, but I will at some point, stop expecting that I will one day stop being one and that my friends will stop evaluating my monetary worth. It doesn’t make me cynical though, because after all, I am here for them and not the other way around. Unfortunately, help in my opinion is the contrary of handing out gifts and creating dependency, and so I lose my “friends” over it. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t joy in having relationships, because if you just managed to develop someone, then you’ve given your day some worth.

Ishtar

A telephone call and a riding lesson

I woke up this morning after seven hours of sleep from a telephone call from Nigeria. It was Ali and Yaronbaba. I didn't know at first if something had happened, and in Niger, phone calls are complicated matters. People shout to one another - even when the line is good - and as they are shouting, they cannot hear what the other one is answering; and so they keep calling "what? what?" until they run out of money. As calling is expensive business, I didn't want to waste their time finding out if anything was the matter, but Ali spent three minutes trying to explain who he was (but he didn't have to because the line was so good that I had no problem recognizing his voice) and where he was calling from, in case I had forgotten. I was happy that I was alone in the house, because finally I shouted "NAGANÉ, Ali!" (=I understand) and I could hear him laughing as he told Yaronbaba beside him: "She has understood!" Then Yaronbaba was on the phone, just wanting to say hi and asking how Arwen was and then it was goodbye. Lol, it was a sweet gesture and I really appreciated it.

After that, I had brunch consisting of fillet & horseradish, fried eggs, fruit (guava, grapefruit and the most wonderful orange I have ever tasted!) and coffee - no bread. That was very nice... Then I spent the morning doing housework of different kinds; making yogurt, ironing, cleaning etc. Time went too quickly and at 2 pm I had a rendez-vous with Emmanuel (age 10). I had promised to take him horseback riding because he has been so eager to help YB and me with the horses. YB was really happy when he heard about this deal, and on Friday evening when I checked with Emmanuel if he had asked his parents for permission; YB gave me a contemplating look and said: "You don't forget anything, do you?" I do though, I just try not to! Anyway, Emmanuel was thrilled when I arrived at 2 o'clock. Fifteen minutes later we were out on the street with two horses, him riding Sahara and me walking Arwen. He did a good job, and it shouldn't be long until he'll be able to follow me out in the bush.

Ishtar

Reaching mutual intelligibility

"Kahin Sahara batansonba gudu, amma yanzu Sahara tanaso gudu."

I am learning, I am learning! I do not care that it is slow progress – I feel like a bird learning to fly! I will not vouch that the above sentence (“Before, Sahara did not like speed, but now she likes it”) is 100% grammatically correct, but it is indeed mutually intelligible! The world is opening up: a number of options are unfolding in front of me and I am only inspired to learn more… A year ago, I knew hardly any Hausa apart from the obligatory greeting sentences (Ina wuni? Lahiya low) that made people believe that I spoke a lot more than I did. However, riding with Nigeriens who do no speak any of the four languages that I master so well has made me aware of how much I am missing out on by not understanding their language, and this inspired me to pick up words. Now it's time to attack the grammar and to start piecing all the words together, but it's tricky business and Elisabeth suggested a good tutor. Previous years, I would just have smiled at the idea (me? time to take Hausa classes?) but today, it feels overdue... I long to speak the language, to able to express myself and to understand the full scope of what people around me are saying. I guess I've been spoiled to spend so many years surrounded by people who speak (more or less) French, but now it's time to leave the body language behind and reach mutual intelligibility through the words I use. Not that it'll be done by tomorrow, but at least the ambition has been established!

Ishtar

Free to act...?

Today, YB and I rode to the race track, but it was a marvelous Sunday afternoon as there were in fact no races!
"Ah, Zinder has problems!" YB said as we approached track that seemed deserted apart from a handful horses and their riders. And still, he chose to come back from Dogo (where all the people were today) and come here!

We had a rendez-vous though, because I had said we would be racing 2600m. It's a long distance, too long if you ask the men of the race track, but I love it because no one else does. It's a favorite of Arwen's but then again, any gudu that goes on for an eternity is a favorite of hers.
I knew YB and Sahara would be up for a challenge but I made no illusion of this.
"If we race the 1300m," I told YB on Friday, "you have a good chance of winning and I don't like to loose!" We laughed together - neither of us takes it very seriously, it's a lot of fun developing Sahara from "race horse donkey" to "Arwen wannabee". They (the race track community) are already calling her "Ishtar's little one" and soon they will have a hard time differentiating between my two mares, as Sahara has started to understood the love of gudu!

We did race, and of course Arwen won (despite the weight difference between her rider and Sahara's jockey...), but for the first lap, Sahara remained side by side with Arwen, working full speed without enticement. She did really well! Of course the second lap was too much for her, but I don't mind. I'd rather train her for the longer distances right from the start because I've never liked those 1000m races anyway.

In fact, Sahara did so well that I considered racing another lap after giving them some time to recuperate, but Ali would hear none of it. He did not even want us to go into the bush.
"Listen. All this work kills a horse."
"It might kill a Nigerien horse Ali, but look at Arwen. She's ready to go!"
He still did not want us to go, and being responsible as he is, he followed us with his horse, knowing that we could not ride away from him and yet we would not be able to make him gallop either. Still, he tried to explain to me that it would be best if I stuck to the traditional [boring] Nigerien race horse training.
Finally I said: "Ali, listen. I am 26 years old. I have two horses. I fell in love with horses but I did not fall in love with racing. I do not enjoy the slow-slow walk to the race track which goes on for an eternity, nor do I enjoy trotting. I love one thing and one thing only, and that is galloping in the bush!"
At this, YB said (almost soothingly): "It's ok, let us go."
And Ali smiled, shook his head and said "Sure, go!"
Off we went, and forty minutes later, I was smiling, Arwen was satisfied and YB was in shock because Sahara had kept full gudu for 1min40 seconds at the airfield stretch, which convinced him once and for all that our bush training does indeed work!
"Next time, let's drop the race track and head straight for the bush!" he said.
Ah... now I'm listening!

Ishtar

Looking for alternative strategies

This afternoon, YB and I went riding in the bush. I had made an effort last week to map up the villages nearby and learn their names, and as a result of it I can now tell you that we went from the outskirts of Zinder to the villages of Kasheni (whose name is somehow related to death, I have been told), Mandara, Dadin Serki and then all the way back again with an extra stop at the airfield, where the horses’ have their favorite gudu-stretch…

My favourite place on earth: In between the hills of Darin Serki and Mandara, where doom palm trees and acacias grow side by side in the deep, clean, beach-like sand with no civilization in sight! Unfortunately you have to be an experienced rider to get here, as it takes about twenty-five minutes of gallop each way.

We were out for more than an hour, and although YB does not speak a lot of French, we were talking most of the time (even when we were galloping side by side). I have really worked on my Hausa this year, and although I still feel it isn’t much, I am amazed at how many topics you can cover with so few words. It’s all about finding alternative strategies when you’re lacking a vital word. “Kagane?” (=Do you understand?) is a well used expression of mine, because when I do borrow a French word, I need to know that the other person understands. And YB is easy, because he’s very honest and let’s me know exactly when he has understood and when he hasn’t. At one point, I used the French word for “progress”, but YB did not know this word. I thought for a while how I would explain it, and then said “Before, Sahara had the work of a donkey but now she has the good work of a horse. That is progress. Do you understand?” And yes he did! At another point, we were talking about racing for fun, and he thought I should race with a jockey saddle. I tried to explain to him that I would not even be able to get up on a jockey saddle (much less remain on it!), but did not know the words for either ladder or balance (either could have helped me). So I just said, “I have problem a lot with a jockey saddle, I am no monkey!” And he laughed out load, mainly because by saying that, I was indirectly comparing him (and all the other jockey who just slip up and down the horses’ back with the most marvellous ease) to a monkey, but he understood that I was just trying to say that I did not have a jockey’s agility to get up on a nonexistent saddle which only seems symbolic in my eyes... So yes, I do not know a lot of Hausa words, but the words that I do know are used frequently. The hardest part I think is differentiating between similar words, when your mind just doesn’t remember (and after all my hajijiya – dizziness – lately, it’s been even harder to think straight). Was it huta (play) or hutu (rest) that Arwen had for three weeks? Banganeba (I don’t understand) or bansaneba (I don’t know)? Lots of ciwo (pain) or cizo (biting)? The outcome sort of depends on it!

So… The conclusion is that I now have a better understanding of what it’s like trying to communicate in a country where you don’t speak the language well! My choice is between avoiding Hausa altogether or not being afraid of making a fool of myself. And I’ll choose the latter, because with a little bit of Hausa, a few words of common French and lots of body language, you can cover the most amazing varieties of subjects, all it one outing… It just takes some patience from the listener and an effort from your side to constantly be on the look-out for alternative strategies, and voila, you develop your friendships!

Ishtar

Winter

Though it looked for a while as if we would have a mild sunny winter in Niger, the past weeks have been cold, dusty and windy... I long for the sunshine, but I know that once it arrives, it will be accompanied by warmers degrees, inevitably growing from comfortable warmth to a sincerely uncomfortable heat... So right now, I'm just enjoyed the cool (sometimes cold) weather and the fact that I am actually wearing socks in the evenings; amazed by the fact that I can wear up to three layers of clothing just to keep warm in the early mornings! This picture was taken at noon though, when you can leave your jacket behind...

Ishtar

The Nigerien outback

This past week, I picked up an old passion of mine again, namely galloping in the bush! There is nothing as calming in the entire world as being about to let go of all thoughts and just race along a sandy line that keeps going for eternity. I love speed and so does my mares; the work in the outback is purely built on inspiration, which suits me just fine!

For some reason however, this season has mostly been centered around the race track and for the past few weeks, I have started to feel an urgency to get away from it all. Though the race track is full of development opportunities, it is a time-consuming business and there are too many conflicts involved. I guess when you start brining more problems home than you left behind, you're in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn't fall in love with horseback riding at the races, nor did I fall in love with racing. I fell in love with gudu (speed) and galloping in the bush and that's what makes me happy.

In the bush, I can gallop for an hour, intensive time. I do not look at my watch a single time. I do not worry about anything in the world, nor do I bring any problems along. It's just me, nature, teamwork with my horse and God. It's a simple world - a time-out from everything else - some times a treat, some times a need. I come home satisfied and smiling. Now, after all this waiting for Arwen's foal to pop out, I finally found back to my old passion this week. For three times now, Yaronbaba and I have been out on long sessions galloping in the bush. I took the vets' advice and started riding Arwen again; and for the first time since before my accident, I let her have free reins. Needless to say, after a lot of hard work Arwen was in the end satisfied; Yaronbaba was in shock because the horses worked so hard out of pure enjoyment and Sahara was happy but exhausted, having given a 110% - willingly - doing her best to keep pace with Arwen. And as for myself, I was just like Arwen; thoroughly satisfied and with a smile lasting all evening and longer...

Surprisingly, even though it's my time-out, I'm a social person and prefer going out with company rather than alone... As tomorrow is training day at the races and YB has other horses to tend to (and I prefer to stay away from the social spotlight for a while), I came up with a solution that fits us all; both YB, me and the horses. He'll come by and pick up Arwen at normal training time, and two hours later I will meet him at the track when all the work there is done and the owners are on their way back again. We will then dash into the bush for about half an hour of intensive riding. He gets to please everyone, I get to leave all my thoughts behind and the horses get to enjoy their work! Now what could be better?

Ishtar

367 days

It's been 367 days now and the foal has still not come out. I started getting worried this weekend that something would go wrong with Arwen, and the question popped up from different directions: is there indeed a foal? Ah, who knows? So many contradictory signs... Madougou came with backup today, a very nice Omar, who at first look said "No way, she's not in foal, you can mate her again."
"But she hasn't been on heat for a year. And she hasn't aborted either."

After going through all the contradictory details, including foal movement throughout December, the two vets set about examining her. I had been hoping they would do a rectal palpation but they did not feel comfortable about doing on a horse, so I still don't know for sure. However, having poked around for some time and provoked Arwen's anger, they were both convinced that there is indeed a foreign body in her belly. So the diagnosis remains: Arwen is in foal. However, we cannot say anything about the nature of that foal or when she plans to pop it out. The record for horses is 390 days and we are approaching it at a rapid pace. The good news however is that Arwen is doing just great - which rules out the possibility of her carrying a dead foal, as I have previously been afraid of. She is either carrying a stubborn little foal in her tiny-but-oh-so-very-round football-like stomach or she has no foal at all and in either case, she's not in danger.

For belly comparison, look here:


Isthar

This one is for you, Sofia

Remember the jeans that you wore out and left behind? Well, I gave them to Ringo, who fixed them up, and they are proudly being worn the one by who rides my horses... :-) Just thought you would like to know! Ps, now we finally know what size jockeys in Niger have! At least approximately... Arwen says hi: still no sign of "Dunderklumpen"... Not even a kick this last week!

Ishtar

Arwen & Ra'ama

I recently discovered that I actually had in my possession a picture of Arwen's foal's father; a racing stallion by the name of Ra'ama. I agreed to him because he had the right color (brown) and a nice personality, but I didn't honestly know anything of his achievements, apart from his owner unconvincingly telling me that he was a very good race horse (but aren't they all?). Now it turns out that I have proof of his victory of the 1600m at the Tabaski feast last year, so I will say no more about this foal's linage. It's good. Now Arwen didn't exactly fall in love with him, but he is the sire of her foal, which will most certainly be - should it ever choose to come out of her belly- brown. Question is, will it have one white sock like its mother or three like its father...=

On January the 15th, Arwen will have been expecting for exactly a year. I hear the record is something like 380 days and hope I will not have to wait that much longer (the normal period of gestation is 340 days, which was three weeks ago), because I have just about as much patience on this issue as Arwen... Although she doesn't seem to care whether the foal comes out or not, as long as she gets to race...

Ishtar

Arwen gets to visit the race track

Today, I brought Arwen with me to the race track. I rode out with both horses yesterday, and since that was a hit, I thought why not today. I wasn't planning on going to the track, but eventually ended up going there anyway... Everybody was pleased to see Arwen again (her ex jockey would not stop hugging her) and she seemed to thoroughly enjoy herself so at first it seemed like a very good two-in-one idea.

I was so impressed with her composure (even as the stallions raced right next to her), that I thought I would be able to do this over and over (seeing this foal does not seem to be coming out soon!). However, Arwen was only patient until it was time to go home, and once she realized that she had been brought to the race track and was not going to be allowed to run, she threw a fit. She launched a good kick at Sahara and although I intervened between the two mares, Arwen remaining furious all the way home... Sahara was no better, because as soon as she realized that I was protecting her, she too started to act up and I had to ride home with two very cross creatures and having to keep a watchful eye on all of their internal insults. As soon as we got back to our street however, the fight was over as quickly as it had started (don't ask me why!) and Arwen trotted sweetly by Sahara's side - just making sure that the latter showed proper respect and kept half a head behind. I for one cannot understand how a problem so huge (at least it seemed so!) can settle so quickly, just by crossing from one street to another... But then again, I'm not a horse!

Let's just hope this foal pops out some day so that Arwen can resume the greatest love of her life, because I doubt I will be bringing her on any excursions to the race track again until she is ready to have her own rider. But then again, you never know, because I'm such a softy when it comes to my precious little mare and when she let's me know that she does not appreciate to be stuffed away in her little garden, I'm not the one who will exclude her from the outside world...

Ishtar

Learning from Niger - "Somehow it will work!"

Well, if I haven't said it before, time certainly flies because all of a sudden, it was time for Sofia to go back home again to an anticipating family!

Even she thought time went by far too quickly, so I'm not making that up (about how time flies)!

She picked the worst possible day to leave - at least if you had a look at the weather. You see, there was a time in December that we had so much blue sky and sunshine that it was hard to imagine it could ever get cold in this country... But believe me, it can! And it gets dusty too!

Having said goodbye to the monkeys, including the old baboon Rez, the baby Julius and his mischievous sister Amalia.

Though she was not a dog person when she arrived, it seemed weird to go back to life without these four-legged companions... Baloo of course would be missed the most! (but then again, he is always such a favorite with visitors...)

There was something about there being trouble with the car, but let's think Nigerien - "it'll work itself out, somehow!"

Renate, Josef and Maurice going through the waypoints that had been taken on a previous journey to Kano (which warns for bad roads and different obstacles).

"I have no idea how I'll get through the airport, but somehow, it'll work!"

The car had to be pushed to a start, but after that, things went smoothly... (Just like the Nigerien saying anticipates, it all worked out!)

Off they went-

...leaving me alone in an empty house! Perhaps the four guard dogs, the three baboons, the five parrots and the two and a half horses will keep me company, now that the other three have left...

Ishtar

Yaronbaba

The week, Arwen and Sahara have been enjoying the regular company of their new jockey, Yaronbaba. Since Arwen's belly is heavy, he has been taking her out for walks and Sahara has been taken out for rides in the bush (although their pace would hardly be my description of a good outing, but then again, horses are pities when they "have to" work, even when they ask for it themselves...).

As Sofia is leaving soon, we went out to greet him and brought Tabita with us. Tabita loves the horses and this puzzled Yaronbaba, who had probably never seen a girl so young be so fond of such great animals (in general, women in Niger do not ride).

Tabita: "Iiiiiihiiiii!"
Me: "Yes, Tabita, that is a horse! And yes, her name is Arwen!"

Me: "Now that, Tabita, is a DOG."
Tabita: "Ayayayay!"

Me: "Now as you're too small to ride a horse, maybe Baloo will let you ride on his back."
Tabita: "Mmmmm!"

Me: "See? There you go! But let's not get any dog hairs on your nice outfit..."

Ishtar

The 300m racing continued

Today, the fight between the laziest and the most stubborn mare at the race track continued.

Although there was ordinary races as well, our new happening (the 300m distance) attracted quite a little crowd and the mood was festive.

Unfortunately, Sahara had a bad day: being beaten 0-4 by the laziest horse! Now where's the spirit, huh? Can't wait until Arwen gets back and shows the little one how things are done in this place... :-) For like I've told Sofia, you're no better than your horse at the track!

Sofia poses next to Snövit and her owner - in order to pass for a true Nigerien, she should look serious and stare into the camera...

Now, our poor jockey was so cold that we actually borrowed him a sweatshirt. Or we would not have stood a chance!

Only problem was, Sahara was also freezing and maybe that's why she performed so badly today...

Now could it have been Snövit's fat that rendered her such a victory? Hmm, I'll leave it to the readers to debate the issue further... I'll be very interested on Anette's theory in this case!

Ishtar