Relationships in a world of epithets

One of the most complicated things about Niger is relationships. They are not the least complicated when you are there, but are very much so when you are absent.

Before leaving for Sweden this year, I made a deal with my jockey, whom I had a very high opinion of. He told me that he was tired of touring and that he wanted to stay with his family in Zinder, working exclusively with my horses (personal loyalty is such a huge issue in Niger). I perceived him as genuine (in being tired of touring, because I knew he loved his little girls), and I decided to give it a try. "No one would be happier than me," I told him, "but if you're going to live of my horses and my horses only, then you need a raise. I don't need you now, but I do need you later on." All cards were put on the table; I told him what I needed, what I expected (and what I would be paying for!), and an agreement was made.

For the first two months, things seemed to be going well. Yaronbaba came regularly and rode out the horses, sometimes to the track, sometimes to the bush. He had my full confidence and I knew the freedom of action was important to him.

In my absence however, something must have happened, for three days ago, I was informed that he had told the workers that he was not actually working for me, but was just "helping out a bit". In fact, he had so many other things to do (read: touring) that he hadn't been to ride my horses during the whole month of July (!). This was not what we had agreed upon.

I don't know what saddened me the most; loosing my confidence in him or the fact that he of all people had told an untruth (and being irritated when doing so). He, my Nigerien brother, who so enjoyed being taken for real, being treated as an equal, who thought truth was the foundation for trust and all those things we kept talking about. His recent behavior was a sudden and dramatic change of character, and such a drastic change that I had trouble believing it at first. What had happened that made him pull out, and why on earth did he start lying about it?

Being so far away, I do not have the answers. I have no idea what went wrong. It could have been lack of money. It could have been lack of prestige as well, because although I make people feel equal when I'm there (by not letting people carry things for me or greet me with two hands as a sign of submission, or bowing (!) when they receive their well earned salary etc), they don't seem to be able to hold on to that dignity when I'm not around, which the entire society telling them that a man in Niger is judged by his tasks. Niger is full of epithets. If you ride a horse for someone, it places you as "the little one who rides the horse to the track". If you are a jockey, then you cannot ride a horse to the track as that is a lowly job; and hence, you need a motorcycle, even if this eats up better part of your salary.

In the beginning, I really enjoyed going to the track and turning a very narrow world upside down. Since owning a horse was one of the highest signs of "social accomplishments", it gave me a immense platform for social development.

In a world of epithets, I was the only "woman" to own a horse (which made me a man, lol!), the only "horse owner" to actually ride her own horses, the only "important person" to sit down on the ground and mingle with the "lowly people", and the only "trainer" who offered my jockey to drink from the same water bottle as herself! There was no end to my inspiration, which was only fueled by the fact that the most prominent "accomplished people" were following suit! All of a sudden, horse owners started to touch their own horses, sit on the ground and "mingle with the lowly people", train their horses Swedish racing manner etc. I was thrilled - and I must admit: slightly hooked. The racetrack became my playground.

There was one big catch however. Despite my good intentions, the racetrack setting (featuring all the who's whos of Zinder) just didn't bring out the best of me. I remember one discussion I had with God, coming back from the track after having publicly humiliated my former jockey. I seem to possess a talent in the art of making people I dislike feel uncomfortable about themselves, and this guy had really let me down. But the one I answer to wasn't as pleased with me as I was. When coming home, a very simple question popped up in my heart, breaking my train of thoughts:

"Do you think that what you did today will inspire him to become a better person?"

The question startled me. I was on the verge of defending myself, but in the same moment that the question had been raised, I knew the answer to it. No, taunting a broken soul publicly was not going to inspire him to become a better person. The only thing that had been proven was my talent in fighting with words. I had used the right words, but had the wrong desire, and what I had done might in fact have a worse effect on him than had I just concentrated on forgiving. I was ashamed of myself, and taken aback. Why did I - despite my good intentions - join the line of people who live to achieve their own means? It definitively gave me something to think about.

Now, the recent discussion with some of the most prominent programmers with interest in Africa has taught me one very valuable lesson. You can either spend your energy discussing and arguing in order to point out other people's faults and mistakes. Or, you can leave those things behind you and go do something constructive with your life.

Putting it simple: the rac track is not my turf, and it does not bring out the best of me. Yaronbaba's recent behavior suddenly made a previously difficult choice very easy for me. When the last jockey disappointed me, I broke with him but not with the track. This time, I will break with the track, but not with the person who disappointed me. And the funny thing is that although loosing my jockey would seemingly give me less liberty, it frees me of the (unwanted) social obligations that I have somehow managed to take upon me, concerning the forum for all the who's whos of Zinder.

Let them have their track. The horses were meant to be a blessing, not a curse. I want to live my life feeling alive and in tune with my heart's desires, and the challenge that lies ahead of me - in contributing to help the poorest of the poor achieve a sustainable life - calls for my full attention.

Ishtar

Precious moments

Our lives are filled with precious moments, but often we're so busy we don't have the time to notice, and that is makes them so rare. Sometimes we're sad and lonely, and that takes the joy away as well. But life makes so much more sense if we look at what we have, instead of what we're lacking. I have always marveled at how the fingerless and toeless leprous of Zinder can possess such genuine and immense joy. I am not kidding when I say that we - "the developed" - have a lot to learn from the poor.

So take a moment. Look around and see all the things you have to be grateful of. Spend some time with the people that matter. Listen to what others have to say. Do something for someone else that you think will make a big difference in his/her life. You'll be surprised at how much you gain from it yourself.

We only live once, and although we seem to be spending most of our time chasing that outstanding dream that is meant to give us the recognition we've been wanting for so long, it's in fact the little things that count and that add up to a life filled with satisfaction.

One day when walking through the market of Zinder, I will stop by and ask the leprous how come they are always so cheerful. Perhaps they will not know why, but there is a chance that they will give me a seemingly unlogical answer. Why? Because it will probably be very existentialistic and very simple; and the world I was born into doesn't care for simple answers.

But once you've met the lepers, you will go through life wondering how people whose hands and feet are withering away can possess such genuine joy. You will look for the small things that make life so valuable; and once you've found it, you'll will not understand how you could ever do without. That, to me, is life quality, built on seemingly simple little precious moments that add up and give my life meaning and joy.

And just imagine: it's there for everyone.

Ishtar

A simple reflection

Copyright Eden Foundation

It's funny how the world has been cut out. Some have all the comfort in the world, but no time to enjoy it. Some have all the time in the world, but no comforts to enjoy.

If we can share and learn from each other, then we have already come a long way.

Ishtar

Ramblings

Sometimes you write things without knowing what you want to say. Other times you know exactly what you want to say, but you don't know how to say it. Both cases make you ramble, but mine is of the latter variant.

I can't explain what is happening right now, because it's new to me. I've never been down this road before. I've never felt so little or so helpless in my entire life (actually, I've never BEEN so little and helpless in my entire life!) but it's ok, because I am being carried by someone far greater than myself right now, and that makes the walk on water so effortless and easy.

Everyday I go to work, people ask me how I'm doing. They expect to hear the worst, but I don't know how to answer them. Life is good, amidst all the set-backs. When I stay on a particular spot, my ground is steady and I am unaffected by the wailing storms. How do I explain the surreal? How do I explain feeling joy in the shadow of death? I know I sound insane, but the funny thing is that people understand. They look at me, nod, and say they understand. Perhaps it's not so amazingly weird after all?

I used to think of myself as a person who had many answers. I used to strive hard to be in control, and my freedom was important to me. Financial independence was A and O; maybe even more important than doing something really valuable with my life.

Today, I see my values have changed. I do not long for personal independence anymore. Instead, I long for that silent whisper that speaks so clearly in my heart (which is does, when I really take the time to listen). As humans, we need each other all the time. It's a give and take, and the giving just makes you richer.

The weirdest thing is that life is turning out so different from anything I ever planned. But I am grateful, because this feels right. For so many years, I trained in the art of running my life. Now I train in the art of living it. And I like it so much better!

Ishtar

Contemplations

I am tired, but not exhausted.
I am stressed, but not stressed out.
I am confused, but not lost.
I am worried, but have not given up.
I am restless, but at the same time, full of expectations.
I feel small, but I'm in good hands.

Should I be complaining? I think not.
The circumstances may not be the best,
but life is good and I am grateful.

Hope you've all been having a good week!
Ishtar

A day by the sea

Today I fulfilled a 24 hour shift (I work in a home for handicapped people), which involved cleaning, cooking, washing up and shopping; but also a lovely walk to the beach. It was raining and my poor companion was drenched in his own sweat trying to hold up with my tempo, but we had a fun together and the sea was beautiful...

I was in a kind of pensive mood and the vastness of the sea hit home. I'm a sahara/savanna girl when it comes to it; I'm used to seeing the horizon in all four directions. In contrast to my mother, who grew up on a little island off the West Coast of Sweden. Her father was a sea captain and used to take her own on long sea trips on his boats. The sea has always meant something very special to her which I have never really quite been able to share, because I on the other hand grew up surrounded by the freedom of a sandy horizon, one that you could walk on, drive on, and as I discovered later, conquer on horseback.

The sea did evoke a sense of longing and desire today; and when I came home, I knew it was time to call Niger again. Luckily for me, Skype has made phoning to Niger not so expensive, and so I talked on the phone for more than two hours. First, I called my good friend who is known on this blog as the Snow Man. I was happy to hear his voice again and he told me over and over how much they were missing me and how the race track wasn't the same without me.

I asked him to pass on a message to Yaronbaba, my jockey, as my Hausa has been deteriorating these past few months, rendering communication a little bit difficult. Sure, no problems, he said, and lol, when I called YB about 15 minutes later, he was at the Snow Man's place, being informed of what we had talked about. We talked about the horses, laughed about my poor Hausa and then the job was done: the relationships had been maintained.

I am still smiling from my phone calls. I thought about a fellow African blogger that I met these past few days, who wrote that he did not like romanticize over Africa. I know I do, but knowing what the Western world is like, I have reason to romanticize because there are just some things about Niger that touch my heart and I fall for it. I can't really explain what it is, after all, there are a number of issues about this country that makes most Westerners go mad, but the overall picture appeals to me. With a little bit of humor and large portion of self-distance, you can do so much in Niger. I guess that's what I love about it. That said, I will not romantizice over reality, because I know that regardless of how much I long to go back, the two first weeks adapting to this slow-slow pace is always a dreadful process. But THEN, once you're through it, the real fun begins!

OK, enough musings for tonight!
Ishtar