Things I forgot about Niger in One Canadian Year:

In my last year of home assignment … I forgot some of the daily life intricacies of Niger – the joys and frustrations.  I’ve been paying attention this week to these …. some “good”, some “not-so-good” as I relearn living overseas. 

Some of the things I forgot:

1.   How difficult it is to drive at night with no street lights.

2.  How yummy lemonade is made from freshly squeezed lemons!

3.  Driving around to multiple stores to find the “delicacies” you search for … after five stores – I am still searching for the elusive: corn meal, raspberry vinager, sesame oil. 

But, I found an unexpected mango vinegar, apple juice that tastes like apple juice, and tins of celery (pre-bought for Thanksgiving stuffing - just in case in three months they are no longer available!)

4.  How good fresh, ripe mangos are!  And yummy mango smoothies!!!

5.  How much my body hates the humidity of rainy season … I’m a good Alberta Prairie girl who definitely prefers dry heat!

6.  How wondrous a/c is …. and conversely, how fast +28 on said a/c is freezing and I need a blanket!

7.  How really really slow the internet is here!  And what multiple power cuts a day are all about!

8.  How joyous it is to spend time in the village chatting with my friends in Fulfulde! 

9.  How fun it is to drive a truck!

10.  Some of my favourite Niger ingredient improvised recipes …. can’t wait to get my cookbooks out of storage and find some more forgotten recipes.

11.  How cute the baby sheep and goats are!

12.  How fast bread goes moldy on the counter.  ooops!! 

13.  How nice the pool feels on a +40 day with 40% humidity!

14.  The fun of buying 6 metres of cloth, going to a tailor to look at pictures and picking out an outfit tailor made for me!

15.  Praying with my team again! 

16.  Going to baby-naming ceremonies and holding cute little African babies!  Last week, it was a ceremony for twins – one girl, and one boy!

17.  The dodge and weave of driving through vehicles which stop unexpectedly, motorcycles which pass on the left side, kids darting across the road, sheep/goats/donkeys wandering all over the road.

18.  Wondering if the traffic lights are not working due to electricity shortage or lamp bulb burn-out.  Learning the various intersections and knowing that at “this” round-point: the red light works, but not the green – so no lights at all means likely safe to proceed!

19.  Getting my gas pumped for me at the station!  And forgetting that I need to release the gas tank cover.  The gas attendant stood at my window while I made small chat and wrote in my mileage book … before after 2 minutes he reminded me that I needed to open the cover!  oooops!!!!!

20.  The joy of ministering to the needs of friends and neighbours, needs both great and small, but so meaningful in their lives.

21.  How different expressing myself in Fulfulde is – limiting in some aspects, but broadening in others – using verbs in ways that are not possible in the English language! ….

22.  Exploring a new store that imports goods from America – spoiling myself for a few purchases ….. paying far more than I should, but not caring – because that is what we do here!  My treats of the day: deodorant, green apple werthers, caramel hot chocolate!  All for about $12!  (About double the price!)

23.  Discovering that despite how much I enjoyed the VAST availability of food and products in Canada this last year …. despite bringing a few kitchen “essentials” with me …. despite the frustrations sometimes of not having access to a spice, sauce or food I crave …. despite how we drive ourselves crazy with “The five things I miss … ‘game’” …

that when the store owner asked us: “What would you like to see us ship over?”   - We had no ready response.

I am sure that if I were to think of it – I could come up with a list.  But, I also came to the startling realization that despite the list above – there is something welcoming and refreshing in the simplicity of doing with what I have!

Dependency and Fasting

In lieu of writing a complete post of my own, I thought I would share reflections of another … a blog post which not only so vividly describes life in Africa and God’s calling to be here, but one that resounds within my heart during these days of separation from my family – a separation made much more poignant during this transition because of the flooding at home before I climbed aboard a plane and left my heart behind:

Life as Fasting

Living overseas is a form of fasting.  Fasting from the comforts of a would-be heaven on earth where there are hot showers, dishwashers and clothes dryers and fully-stocked grocery stores.  Living overseas is fasting that says, “this much, O God, this much, I want to know you.”  And this much, O God, I want you to be known.” (Michael Oh)

I want to know God deeply and I want Him to be known so much that I will risk scary diseases, fast from my beloved family and worldly comforts.  But to live and fast like that, isn’t brave.  …  I don’t feel brave.  I feel dependent.  Helplessly, breathlessly, clingingly, dependent.

Last week the Muslim fasting month of Ramadan began.  Fasting from food and water is hard.  Fasting from food and water in the hottest country on earth is hard.

And the strain will begin to show because fasting (Muslim, Christian, or otherwise) emphasizes our weakness, reveals the longing of our taste buds and stomachs and exposes the very real, carnal needs of our bodies.  Fasting reminds us that we are helpless and desperate, utterly dependent on food and water, and when undertaken as a spiritual discipline, fasting reminds us that we are helpless and desperate, utterly dependent on God.

He is the Sustainer and the Giver of comfort.  He forgives and provides.  He has prepared a place for us.  He sends hope and perfect joy.  He encourages the weary and heals the broken.

Because brave is not the right word for people seeking God.

Dependent is.

The author concludes by asking: “How has living overseas revealed your dependency?”

Though I have much to reflect on in embracing this aspect of fasting – her question for me these last few days has been easy to answer … for I am at this place of utter dependency.

Because I have felt divided and my heart left at home – I have felt here an empty shell.  I ask myself how I can minister to those around me when I am broken and empty?

And I have flung myself on the mercy of God … asking daily now for His strength in my weakness … for I have nothing of myself to give.  Though this is no less true of each day – I am more acutely aware of it these days.

Today as I fast … fast from my family in this time of their need, fast from the comfort of being with them and helping them, lending my hand to the trail of the unknown … my comfort comes from Psalm 121:8

the LORD watches over your coming and going.

My Father knew …. He knew when I bought my ticket that the flooding would happen before I left.  Not only did He know …. but He is watching over … watching over my going from Canada and my coming to Niger.  Watching over this time.  Watching over me as I throw myself at His feet and cling to Him.  Dependent, weary, and broken - trusting in Him for His encouragement and healing.

And in this I rest.  It is enough for today.

Here is the link to the full blog from which I quoted.

Life Not in Niger

My life and work in Niger has taught me many lessons in life – but there are some lessons that give only head knowledge of events.  I’ve taken a course on Humanitarian Aid Relief, focusing on how to roll out relief in a disaster … what needs to be done, how to care for refugees or evacuees – called in this work external or internal displaced people. 

I’ve dealt with crises here in Niger – a population of the Kongu villagers losing their homes when the government bulldozed & burned their hut settlement … 2 famines in 4.5 years.  During the coup in 2010, needing to evacuate my home, not knowing when I would return – and thankfully being home the next day as there were no major political changes in the country.

But, nothing prepares you for living the experience yourself.

2 weeks before I returned to Niger, I moved to High River to spend my final weeks with my family.

4 days later, the rain refused to move on, the flood waters rose and my family was evacuated from our homes – my parent’s home, my brother and his family too.

We found ourselves internally displaced people … living on the beds of friends, out of boxes and the few things we could grab.  I am grateful to God that circumstances the week prior had me packing my suitcases early – usually a job I leave to the last week.  However, this time, my suitcases were 98% packed and we could roll them out the door in the 5ish minutes we had to leave.

Our homes in the middle of the new lake

What the week before had been a frustration, in a week packed with activities, became a blessing of God.  And while it was frustrating this last week to rebuy things I had left behind, and to wait months to hopefully receive the rest that cannot be replaced, I am grateful for what I was able to get out.

I am thankful for the advance warning we had of the potential evacuation looming … 10 minutes which allowed me to get my stored belongings out of my parent’s basement up to the main floor.  However, now,  we do not know even if the main floor was also flooded.  And while for the last week, I have heard many people floating the words “it is all just stuff, things” … they are my things.  The little in life that I have pared down so many times, that it remains only 8 small rubbermaid containers of momentos I consider too precious to sell and which become part of comfort and “home” in the times I am in Canada.  For my family, all their belongings too and the buildings themselves are their things and they have lost so much more than I.

But all that aside of things, nothing in Niger has prepared me for the emotions of being evacuated and homeless.  For the limbo state of living in the unknown and waiting weeks to return home.  And even at that, I have now moved back to Niger.  And nothing has prepared me for the agony of leaving my family in the middle of a crisis … the limbo state in which they continue not knowing when or if they can return to their homes.

They are calling my emotional home of High River the “epicentre of the storm” … a disaster zone.

Our place of evacuation was Calgary – so I had a front line seat to the flooding in this city and I watched from an emotional distance the flooding happening in my home town of Calgary … their evacuations and flooding.  And I have to say, it was amazing to see how fast Calgary returned to normal.  So normal in fact, that even in the days of the flooding, the city declared the Stampede would go on in 2 weeks. Adopting the motto “Come Hell or High Water”.  I’m a native Calgarian, I get the Calgary pride and Stampede spirit.  But, I have to say, given my experience overseas, this sickened me … overseas, the focus is shelter, food, medicine, water and latrines.  Yet, the richness of my home town allows a first priority to be entertainment.  And while I get that it brings in revenue – it seems to me to be money earned on the back of suffering neighbours.

So, back now in Niger – and feeling like my soul has no resting place to call home.  My heart is beyond divided.  Going back to Canada was like my heart divided in two and lived in two zones.  Now, it feels like my body is here and my heart is left behind.  The joy of being here is overwhelmed by the devastation of my family.

So for that – I would appreciate all your prayers:  For my soul to settle.  For my family stuck in the unknown.  For their grief and loss. 

And if you see my family – my parents, brother, sister-in-law, nieces … be my arms for me, and give them a hug!