The Shipping of The Cow or Sunday Entertainment

Mr. Tom  and I were having a very pleasant Sunday afternoon promenade when we looked to the East and saw the dark clouds rapidly approaching.

 Not wanting to walk in the rain (rainy season HAS started) we quickly turned around and rushed home; but alas, the rain never came.  So I joined the neighbor ladies outside for "a bit of air" and some chatting.

I was about to go inside, when a pick-up pulled up with a live cow tied down in the back.  I knew immediately that this was a blog post in the making!

With one cow already loaded and ready to go to the butcher shop, they had stopped in for another at our next door neighbor's.

 This poor soul must have understood what was in her future as did not go willingly.  As she was pulled from the yard with a long cord, she charged in our direction which sent us women all running for shelter behind a electric pole!

 But her energy wore down within minutes as she was tugged, pulled and finally lifted onto the back of the pick-up.  I really don't know what they would have done without her tail.

 
 Three legs tied together and it was all over.  A few more adjustments in order to get the tailgate shut and they were done.

Sunday afternoon entertainment in front of the gate at the Dorsches!

P.S.  In spite of having grown up on the farm, I really have no idea if this animal was a he or a she.  It is just so much easier to say "cow" than to determine if it is a steer or a heifer!  Please, my dear farmer brothers, don't be too mortified if I have been mistaken.

"It's Raining, It's Pouring, the Old Man is Snoring..."

Yes, yes, yes!  It's RAINING!  A long anticipated rainy morning...and without a dust prelude!  The windows are open and we are soaking in the cool breeze, ignoring the rain splashing in through the screen...the tile floors will dry soon enough.  The beautiful sound of raindrops on the tin roof is music to our ears.  The water pouring off of the roof is a dirty brown color, as the months of accumulated dust gets washed off. We can hear the joyful shouts of the neighbor children as they dance and shiver excitedly in the cool, first rain.  The streets are empty. The neighbors are smiling.  Happy day! Absolutely glorious.

But the "Old Man" is NOT snoring, he's out "playing" in the water!  Actually, he's trying to dislodge mounds of garbage and branches and months of accumulated trash from the drainage canal in front of our house in hopes that the massive amounts of running water will wash it all into the river. Sorry hippos.

With help from our favorite neighbor boy and an old rake, they finally got some of it to move on down the canal.

The neighbor's goats obviously didn't enjoy the rain as much as we did.  They stood perfectly still with their noses pressed against the wall.  What fun is that! 

The neighbor kids love to run in our yard and "shower" under the water running out of the drain spout from the roof.

Thanks to our gracious God for His gift of rain.

Did I Ever Say It's Hot Here?

What to do when it's 98 degrees inside the house and 110 degrees outside with no electricity to run fans and no water to take a shower? It's time to go outside the walls where everyone else is!

Since my neighbor was working on her embroidery, I picked up mine and joined her.

The slight breeze outside, as well as the company, helped the time to pass more pleasantly.

The busy highway and well-traveled sidewalk in front of our house also lends itself to many interesting sights (and pictures) and mini-conversations with passers-by.

The houses across the street from us: 

 With the water shortages, these yellow/orange 5 gallon jugs are a common sight all over town. We keep a stock of water on hand for those long water outages.

The neighbor boy was filling them at his spigot and then taking them to sell to those without water in their courtyard.

Camels are a common sight along with the cars and motorcycles.

This moto was getting a serious cleaning.  The wheels were scrubbed until they looked like new.

 The walking clothes rack vendor passed by.

 Always scores of kids...

Tom's favorite sight--the closest he gets to seeing farming.

 Delivery of new furniture to someone down the road.

These hot days too will pass.  It's easy to whine and complain when there are many hours/days without electricity.   The rains should be starting soon.

We're not in Kansas anymore

Twenty six glorious days in Kansas.
Soooo different from Niamey in every way.
Two extremely opposite worlds.
In every way.

We were refreshed by the cool air.  It was snowing when we landed!  Unbelievable.
We feasted our eyes on green:  the green grass and green wheat fields.
I'm beginning to think that green is my favorite color.
The perennials in our farmhouse yard all began to bloom:  irises, peonies and daisies.

We packed a lot into those 26 days.
The first event was Erika's pinning and graduation from Hesston College with a nursing degree.

We are so proud of her.  A week later she passed her state boards, so she's officially an RN.

Erika's biggest surprise on the eve of her graduation was in opening the car trunk to find her big brother inside!  You did it, Andrew.  She had no clue that you were coming.  (It was easier to get in than to get out!)

Kyle (Erika's boyfriend) took Tom for a plane ride and I, very willingly,  stood in our yard
and took pictures as they buzzed overhead.
 Maybe next time I'll be braver, Kyle. 

We celebrated Lindsay's birthday.
We also got to spend a few hours in her classroom  answering questions from her French students.

We did so many things that I don't have pictures of:

road tripped to western Kansas to see Tom's mom
had lovely evenings with friends and family
missed having Melissa with us
road tripped to Minnesota to see Andrew and dear friends
saw the dentist and the doctors
planted grass and a few native oak trees
took walks
did a bit of shopping
surprised a dear friend on her 50th birthday
had a sister day, which made us miss Donna so much
played croquet--why does Tom ALWAYS have to win!
mowed lawn and pulled weeds.

We packed as much in those 26 days as possible and enjoyed every minute of it.  Now we are back in Niamey.  Our second home on the other side of the world.   Another kind of beauty here.

The Lost Boys

Do you remember the Lost Boys in the story of Peter Pan?  
      ...the boys who fall out of their prams in Kensington Garden when their nanny isn't looking and if they go unclaimed for 7 days they are whisked away to Neverland to live with Peter Pan.  

There are groups of young boys that roam the streets of Niamey that remind me of the Lost Boys. 

There are no prams nor gardens nor nannies but they are young boys who, clothed in ragged clothing or over-sized shirts that fall to their knees, spend their days begging for food or money when they are not studying the Koran with a Muslim teacher.  

Like in Peter Pan, in this context, there are no "lost girls", only boys.  

Historically, parents, who wanted their sons to learn the ways of Islam and maybe, eventually to become a Marabou (spiritual leaders) in their community, would send their boys to a Teacher where they would learn from the Koran.  Ideally, within a few years they would be able to recite the whole of the Koran in Arabic, even if they didn't know/understand the language itself.   

In recent years, these boys are often orphans or from families who can't afford to feed them. They are given to the Teacher to train in the ways of Mohamed. 
  

Early in the morning,they are sent out to find breakfast.  They go door to door, sometimes chanting in sing-song voices, hoping that someone will have leftover food from the night before that they are willing to give them.  They are all equipped with a small bowl, often attached to a cord around their neck. That aluminum or plastic bowl identifies them as "the boys from the mosque."  

 Once they get their food, they may eat it, if it is a small quantity or bring it back to share with the Teacher and his family.  If it is coins, they must bring it back to the Teacher.  They then spend their some hours memorizing the Koran in Arabic before they go out to scavenger for their next meal.  

 

One of the  "schools" for these boys just down the street from our home. Every morning, noon and night they traispe past our house in search of food and/or money. Walking by on the sidewalk that passes in front of their "home", we can hear the sing-song voices repeating what they are learning. 

The narrow strip of ground between the wall of the Teacher's courtyard and the open drainage(garbage) canal is where they eat, sleep and learn. 

The sticks protruding from the ground can hold up the mosquito netting if available or serve as a clothes hook. 
They sleep under the stars.  
The understanding is that going without food and a roof over their heads makes the boys strong.  

  

A couple of weeks ago was the Naming Ceremony of our neighbor's baby girl.  The food was plentiful and so were the boys with their bowls, waiting for any leftovers or anyone who was generous enough to share with them.  

  

Life is far from easy for these little Lost Boys of Niamey.  

There are stories of abuse and, from what I'm told, many leave the Teacher and then survive on the streets by thievery.