A Weekend to Remember

Our first trip into the interior of Niger!  


We had arranged the night before to have a taxi pick us up at 4am to catch the bus at 5am.  We went with our African national director and his wife and their 2 year-old boy.


The 11-hour trip didn't seem too long as there was always something to look at as we rolled by:
           villages. 
           onions and more onions.
           herds of camels. 
                    

The bus stopped several times for the Muslims to pray and we made two bathroom stops ( I won't even attempt to describe those outdoor stalls.  Fortunately, for odor reasons there were no roofs and we each had a tea kettle of water.  Use your imagination!!). 

Laundry soap produced across the border in Nigeria. 

At our up-country destination, we were met at the bus stop by the missionary who had planned and organized the Weekend to Remember marriage conference.  They have a huge burden for the marriages in Niger.  The divorce rate is very high in the Muslim communities and this culture affects the church negatively as well.  


There were 30 couples who showed up for the first session.  Tom, Akora (CCC Niger national director) and I taught the sessions.  Tom did the majority of them and I taught the two designed for the women only.  


We spoke in French, which more than half of the audience understood, and it was translated into Hausa for those who didn't speak French.  They were all ages and from all walks of life.  What an incredible opportunity to show them Biblical principles that cross cultural lines.  

This little girl's name is Hulda; her parents attended the conference.  
Now we know there are two Huldas in the world! 

Saratou translated my French into Hausa.  

 The message that caused the most discussion was Sunday's talk on forgiveness.  The comment was made repeatedly that in traditional Hausa culture men don't ask their wives for forgiveness.  Needless to say, the challenge from God's Word was powerful and discussions were animated.  

Several ladies cooked our meals of spaghetti or rice or couscous.  Tasty, good food. 

Tomatoes and Peanut Butter

Cook a couple of sliced onions in some oil in a pan. 

 Add some chopped tomatoes. 

Voila! the sauce is ready for rice or couscous or beans! 

 As my Nigerien friend said, " as long as we have onions and tomatoes we can make a sauce."  Sometimes we add a bit of chopped meat and/or peanut butter, serve it over rice and that makes it a dish fit for a king! Just ask my kids. 

Tomatoes are in season now and coming into the city literally by the busload.   The outlet is at the market close by our home so a friend and I decided to skip the middle man and purchase our tomatoes "en gros."   

Fortunately, my friend had her vehicle so I didn't have to transport them back on my head!  

The tomatoes made great sauce and salsa.  My only problem was I had none of my canning supplies here.  Nor did I have extra plastic storage containers.  So I froze it all in pans, cut it in squares and re-froze it in plastic bags.  As long as Tom doesn't mistake it for brownies we'll be okay.  

I suppose Americans eat peanut butter like our African friends eat tomato sauce.  In the early 90's when we lived in Central African Republic, peanuts were abundant.  Melissa's first way of earning money was making and selling peanut butter to other missionaries using our Oster Kitchen Center blender we had received as a wedding gift.  In Ouagadougou, our pastor's wife had a peanut butter machine and we could buy it from her, a dishpan at a time. 

Here in Niger, getting peanut butter is a bit more complicated so I decided to see if my Bosch blender was up to the task.  But I had forgotten how time consuming making peanut butter from scratch can be.  All the recipes that I read on-line started from peanuts you buy at the store that are shelled, skinned and roasted already. 

It took awhile to find shelled peanuts in the market but thanks to Tom's searching, I now have a source.  

After sorting through the raw peanuts,

 I roasted them for a bit  in the oven and then began the arduous task of taking all those pesky red skins off.  That was a great thing to do during the "Friday night at the movies" time.   

Saturday morning, since there was no breeze to help me, I set up my artificial wind to blow all the red skins down the driveway. 

The blender worked perfectly and I now have enough peanut butter for a while.  No orders, please! 

  P.S.  I still prefer Skippy!

Grandfather and Grandmother?!

Every culture has polite and proper ways to address people.  As children, we were severely reprimanded if we failed to use Mr./Mrs. before the name of an older person.  There has been a progression of names that people have called us over the past 20+ years in Africa.  First, we were called "Tantine" (Aunt) or "Tonton" (Uncle).  Or they used the names "sister" or "brother" with our first names.   I was often introduced as "Madame Tom."

Then as the years passed, we began hearing the terms "mama" and "papa" in combination with our first names: Mama Marcy and Papa Tom. We understood that it was a term of respect.  But last week, we received the ultimate blow.  Tom was walking home from the dorms late one night with some university students and they said  "Goodnight Grand-Père" (grandfather); "Give our greetings to Grand-Mère (grandmother)."  That would be me!!

Grandfather and Grandmother?!?!?  Do we look that bad?   We were a bit alarmed so yesterday, when Tom was again addressed as Grandfather on campus, he told the student that I had been a bit insulted by that title.  Tom explained to him that in American culture, being called Grandfather only occurs if you have biological grandchildren and usually conveys the idea of being old, past one's prime, on the sidelines; respected, yes, but kind of worn out and lacking the vigor of youth.  Well, now it was the student who was taken aback!  He explained to Tom that in Niger culture to be called "Grandfather" had nothing to do with having biological grandchildren and carried no negative connotations but conveys only the highest respect and honor and dignity.  It conveys the idea of wisdom and insight, and then he added the French word which translated means "formidable" and he insisted on that word.  He also added that to be raised by a grandfather was even a greater blessing than to be raised by one's own biological father.

So, I'll just have to "get over it!" mentally, see myself as still young and adapt to my new host country and culture.

Yours truly and formidably,

Grandfather Tom and Grandmother Marcy!!

Making a fashion statement!

We walk a lot.  I enjoy it as there is never a lack of interesting things to see.  The downside is footwear.  I would love to wear my tennis shoes when I walk through the deep sand or on the rocky, uneven paths, all the while skirting the "deposits" made by the many animals that use the same path.  But alas, tennis shoes with dresses just aren't "a la mode" here.   So, this week, as I was preparing to combine my exercise walking with going to the office for a meeting, I decided to throw caution to the wind and wear my tennis shoes with my beautiful purple boubou (African dress).  I was hoping that no one would notice my white tennies peeking out from under my dress IF it the skirt was long enough and IF I walked so fast that my shoes would just be a blur as I passed by.  


The walk was absolutely wonderful.  Wading through sand had never been so easy.  Leaping over "the deposits" was delightful.  But, oh, my, did I get a lot of strange looks and even a few giggles. I just lifted my chin and kept trucking.  Kris, you would have been so proud of me!   I repeated this on Tuesday and then Wednesday, as I walked out of my gate, wearing sandals like normal women do, the eyes of my neighbors immediately went to my feet!  I'm sure they were disappointed in my choice of shoes (or not!).   

Rest assured, I do take along my sandals to change when I arrive at the office.  I've included a few pictures of the "deposit-ers" we saw on  the main road walking home from church on Sunday. 

 BTW, did you know that it is illegal to eat donkeys in Niger?  I just found that out this week.  Not that I've ever been tempted...

The Schoolmarm

We never dreamed that one of our children would be with us this time in Africa!  Lindsay came in November to student teach at Sahel Academy for 4 weeks.  We knew that was going to happen.  At the end of the semester, one of the French teachers left unexpectedly so Lindsay was offered the job for 2nd semester.  She accepted and after graduating in December from Emporia State in Kansas she is now teaching five classes of beginner French at Sahel.  AND...living with us!  We're still working out the rent agreement...I suggested she wash all the floors before she leaves for school every morning! But that would mean getting up at 3am in order to finish before she leaves for school at 6:30. So we'll look for plan B.  Actually, we are thrilled to have her here with us.  I'm re-living my first year of teaching in Osborne, KS again as she comes home with funny stories and spends hours every night planning creative ways to teach French to children from 1st grade to high school.  She had the crazy idea that I would LOVE doing her bulletin boards...that died a quick death.

Another plus is that her friends come over so our social life is improving.   Watching a movie means that everyone crowds together on the couch in order to see the computer screen.  

Wall Art

We are home in Niamey again after lots of traveling in December.  The temperatures are wonderfully cool and the "air-dust" isn't too bad.  The new road in front of our house is literally "gaining ground" so the 6 foot drop off in front of our house is now only 2 feet.  The road packer machine has been working the last couple of days which makes the entire house vibrate each time he goes by. 
  
Yesterday Tom and I added some color to our all white walls!  Yeah!  Pictures! I've never gotten so many gifts for Christmas to hang on our  walls.  It's fabulous.  It's just hard to decide where to put them.  Natalie Klassen did an awesome job on the French wall art verse.  Thanks so much, Terry, for your part in that gift--unexpected...IKEA had wonderful picture frames and so we pounded big nails into our concrete walls and even the road packer machine didn't shake them off the walls.  It makes it seem so much more homey with our kids all looking at us while we eat! 

Andrew totally surprised me with this gorgeous wall art!  I absolutely love it.  He also brought his Dad a very large world map that is going up very soon.

Melissa gave me this for Christmas.  Can you figure out the meaning of the numbers?  Thanks, my girl.  Poor Melissa, she lost a couple more of her framed pictures to her mama...she is so generous and has such a great way of decorating her apartment.  I'm sure she won't miss them for long!  

I just finished baking bread and got to use this beautiful cutting board that Erika gave me.  I absolutely love it and have it hanging in my kitchen.  Thanks, sweetie.  (Jenny G., I think my kids went shopping at The Well and found some pretty cool stuff!)  

Sweetness in Remembering

We just said goodbye to Andrew, Lindsay and Erika.
Put them on the train for Paris.
Gut wrenching.
I hate goodbyes.
Heaven will be so wonderful.

God has blessed us with such awesome children.  
The 9 days spent together was amazing.  
We have been reminded again and again of God's tender mercies toward us.  
We are so undeserving, yet he keeps heaping blessings from His unlimited supply.  

Melissa was an awesome hostess.
 Her apartment was home to all of us girls and the boys stayed nearby in a co-worker's apartment.
  We loved discovering her city.  So much history.
 She loved making us experience the "RUN! The bus is coming!"
We had potato leek soup and quiche lorraine without the cheese...oops!
 

 Andrew loved the WW II history at Normandy. 

When conversations got emotional, we could count on his humor to bring laughter and lighten the moment...usually.  

We had such fun playing games... pinochle, farkle, yatzee...
And the patisseries and bakeries...oh my! 

Lindsay's dream came true when she got to spend the morning journaling/reading in a quaint coffee shop. 

She could be counted on to make us all laugh with her crazy stories.

She boldly used her French at every opportunity.

And those darling rain boots...

Erika loved shopping in the French stores.  

Seeing the differences in fashion and trying not to appear toooo American was her goal. 

Her "oh, my word!" brought Lindsay's theatrics back to reality.

She was quick to learn how to find her way around the city on the buses and metro. 

We are so blessed!