Category: From Peter

Mental cruelty for sure regarding the home internet. "Here you go! Now give us back that router!" It does depict how business usually operates here in Niger. Everything is doable. It usually requires more time and patience than you anticipate. Sometimes more money than you expect. But eventually, you are successful with a long story to go along with the experience and some good people along the way.

For instance, our neighbors here on a Fulbright, moved into the house next door to us and the AC didn’t work in most of the rooms and suboptimally blew wisps of cool air in others. They refused to pay their second months’ rent until it was repaired (all in their contract). A whole band of contractors and plumbers showed up with their hammers to do the list of repairs. They removed the air conditioners and took them outside and sprayed them with a water hose, "to clean the dust filters," they said. Most of us are taught at a very early age not to put water on electrical appliances! One of the units already gave a small electrical shock when they turned it on! When Jennifer told them that cleaning the filters wouldn’t fix the problem, they patronized her. And of course, that didn’t fix the problem. The unit that was shocking users, he claimed to have fixed and when she touched it and didn’t get shocked, she enthusiastically asked how he fixed it. He responded by sternly saying, "What?! Are you trying to take my job now?!" And sure enough, that evening, their housekeeper got an electrical shock when she turned on the AC.

We know we can get internet (even on an Apple) here in Niamey. It could be better but it works. I’m hoping that once we get a good router, most of our problems regarding the internet will be over.

I’m looking forward to our trip to Ouagadougou scheduled in two weeks. They can’t take that away from me! – or can they?

A very busy week it was. I don’t mind so much because it’s interesting and my time goes by rather quickly. Aside from the emotional news about my pregnant patient, I was also visited by a doctor from South Africa and trying to get my visa and cable request in for my up and coming trip to Burkina Fossa, Ouagadougou. There’s an annual artisan festival going on while I’m there and Dina wants to come with the kids. So I have to arrange the driver, time off, our hotel accomodations, and estimated cost. Once I’m there, I will be meeting my nurse and familiarizing myself with the clinics and hospitals there. I already have patients scheduled to be seen (a breast mass and a hip bursitis that needs injecting).

This weekend is the NUTS softball tournament. When we first arrived at post, I was asked if I wanted to join the team. Not entirely opposed but completely disabled when it comes to swinging any kind of club or stick at anything, I declined. I know my limitations and people should thank me for that! I don’t know what NUTS stands for but I could guess after talking to some of these people that it could be taken literally.

What it means for me though is that I have to be prepared for sports injuries. Last year someone broke an arm and last week in training, someone needed stitches. The teams are coming from all ovver west Africa so we were asked to help house some of them. We took on two young women from Benin. Their team decided to come Thursday night since they had to drive over 12 hours, and get the most out of their time. I wnet to pick them up at 9PM but they didn’t arrive until 1AM. Those poor girls were tired and so was I.

Friday, we had some friends over for drinks and dinner. I got called out to the baseball field. An innocent by standard was watching the game when a fly ball came down through the trees and hit him in the eye. He had a brief loss of consciousness and his eye swelled up like an over-ripe apricot. I took him to the Gamkalley clinic (French) to make sure he had no internal bleeding into the orbit of the eye which could put pressure on the nerve and cause blindness. He was fine. It cost 4,000 CFA (~$8) and I gave him $2 to catch a taxi back home.

The rest of the weekend was univentful. Our house guests were very nice and we took them out to the Grand Hotel for drinks and brochettes last night. They have the most wonderful view of the Niger River from the veranda there.

It’s Columbus Day but the kids are at the French school. Pierre, our gardener is back from Burkina Fossa and the girls left early this morning. I thought I’d share the morning with Dina but I got called in to evaluate a little girls’ arm. Her brother tugged on it and made it hurt. No harm done eccept that I’m going to have to have a talk with that boy!

For the first time in my life, I ordered an artificial Christmas tree. This is tough, coming from a man who lived in Oregon where they grow Christmas trees and every year, send the Mother of all Christmas trees to be displayed on the White House lawn. But a decorated palm tree doesn’t cut it for me. So I spent the extra money for a delux one to look as natural as possible (Colorado noble fir with a foldable metal stand). It just arrived yesterday in a box. Made in China. I’ll let you know.

I must say that in general, our lives have been made much easier here by the invention of the internet. I’ve been buying groceries, clothes, and appliances. Granted, we don’t have internet at home (yet!), but when we do, watch out baby!

One of the women here at work, came in this morning feeling run down and I was the first to know that she is pregnant! The line turned blue! This is her first pregnancy and for some reason, I got teary eyed when I told her. She called her husband over and they are very happy. I was trying to be informative but instead, used up an entire box of Kleenex with them. I think I was crying more than they were. I scheduled her exam and screening for another day. I’m all choked up and can hardly see strait! A Chordas gene I inherited from my uncle. Good thing I’m not an obstetrician! I keep saying to myself, "Never in my life did I think I would be doing this!"

Last Friday, we went to the Peace Corps swearing in hosted by the Ambassador. The Peace Corps volunteers just finished their training and are about to embark on their 2 year assignments to tiny villiages deep within the interior of Niger. One gave a very touching speech in French about trying to answer a little boys’ question about why he would want to give up McDonalds hamburgers and fries to join the Peace Corps and go out there and do such a thing. He told the boy that it was to do just that; sacrifice McDonalds so that he would know exactly what that meant. I find that it’s more than that. Being able to say; "Never in my life did I think I would…" makes me realize that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing: giving meaning and purpose to my life. So I’ll continue to stay up late at night thinking about the guy I’m treating with parasites and cry when I find out you’re pregnant.

I had to quit taking Mephlaquin (Give me crystal or give me Meph). I loved the vivid dreams but hated the insomnia that went with them. So I’m trying to practice what I preach to patients and started taking Doxycycline. "Ask your doctor about the blue pill!" Not nearly as exciting as Mephlaquine. God I miss those dreams!

Yesterday I had my first really busy day in the clinic and saw 7 patients before lunch. A few stomach problems, a few follow-ups, a  15-month-old physical exam and immunizations, a respiratory infection and an ear infection. But the afternoon was quiet. I’ve been appointed by the Ambassador to represent the embassy at the American school. So I caught up on their past minutes and went to the school board meeting. I never thought I’d be sitting on a school board meeting but there I was! Some of the people here at post have hinted that they would like to be on the board, as though I can apppoint them or relinquish my appointment. In case someone here is reading our blog, let me just say, I’m the only one on the board who has no vested interest (my kids don’t go there and I don’t pay tuition) so I think I can remain unbias and be an objective advocate for the teachers and the kids.

I had to leave a little bit early from the meeting because there was a reception in my honor. All of the local physicians and health care providers in Niamey were invited. Our host, the management officer, had his chef prepare wonderful finger foods. There were beef brochettes, grilled seasoned shrimp, little quiches, cheese tarts, and a large assortment of deserts and beverages. His home is very nice and there was quite a crowd. He made a nice speech and so did the Ambassador. I was forced to ad lib and expressed my gratitude. It was really nice. Unfortunately, Dina couldn’t come because she had to stay home with the kids and it was late.

(Some may not want to read this paragraph) I socialized with most of the guests. An American team is here volunteering to do fistula repairs. There is a serious problem here in Niger which is cultural. Young girls (~12-14) are married off to men and tear very easily which creates an abnormal tunneling (fistula) between openings and gets infected. These poor girls are told not to have sex for a month after surgery but are shamed and ostracized if they don’t go back to their husbands. This problem is very real and we are working hard to try and find a solution. I am trying a different approach to come up with an educational tool to target the men.

I met some very interesting people including the director of the local Gamkalley Clinic and a Nigerian neurologist who left to practice in France, made a lot of money, but came back because he wanted to help his people. Dr. Toure is the head of cardiology and covers me when I go away and travel. He is very charming with a great sense of humor. Compliments to the chef who is from Benin. The servers were local Nigerians. I enjoyed the company and we had a very nice evening. Thank you Management Officer.

Breakfasts are usually a scramble to get everyone up, fed, and out the door in time for school. I feel like a drill sargeant that has little control over his company. I believe there is mutiny in the ranks! No time to read the paper. Camille will stare at her plate for 5 minutes and when I say, "Eat your breakfast!" she replies, "I need a fork!" In the mean time, Stefan keeps getting out of his seat to play or ask for something else and often doesn’t eat much of anything and still needs to get dressed. The clock is ticking and we barely get to school on time. The French are strict about punctuality. I was late picking up the kids one day because I had a patient I had to take care of and the directrisse gave me a tongue lashing (which I must admit I kind of liked even though she was very intimidating). I tried to explain and when I told her what I was doing, she asked in cold French, "Did the patient live?!" Her face never softened. Let’s not have THAT happen again!

The time is flying by and daily I think of things to write about but before I know it, three days have passed. It’s kind of interesting how that phenomenon works. It’s already old news yet there is still so much to see and say.

Our internet fiasco has taught us to slow down. Way down! The wheels turn slowly here in Niger. It is not an instantaneous society like in the US. There are advantages to slowing down but it takes some getting used to if you come from a place where fast food is FAST and check out lines aren’t usually used for socializing.

Last week, Dina was going to come with the kids for lunch here at the embassy. One of the reasons was that it is the day that they serve capitaine (the local fish) and she hadn’t tried it yet. I was forewarned that they run out early and to reserve it in the morning before others get to it first. So I requested it at 9AM for 1 O’Clock. Dina arrived with the kids just before that and we waited and waited. Finally, at 2:15, they brought us our fish! It was superb! Fried and cooked to perfection on a bed of fantastic potato salad (not overly smothered in mayonnaise). That was an exceptionally long wait but not unusual. I’ve waited over a half an hour before. Relax! It’s OK! It’s coming! They are making if individually fresh from scratch!

Daily, my nurse tells me (rolling her eyes) something to the effect of, "they are going to change our doors in the clinic because they want to install a special light." They take off the door, lay wiring all over the hall across the threshold, and disappear for a few days. "They are promising they are gonna do it tomorrow," she tells me every day.

And then there’s the sore subject of the internet at home. People tell us options are available but it all takes time (ours) and nothing has panned out. There is an antiquated phone line which relies on land lines that are corroded and frequently flooded and short curcuit. Those who have it say it is problematic at best and frequently it is on the blink. You pay by the minute and they often receive bills for time they know they weren’t on line.

Then there is Dougouney! Some magical satellite phone you buy and plug into your computer. It costs about 40,000 CFA/month (~$80) for unlimited use. Sounds great! Until they come and look at the MAC and ask where the CPU is? They have no cable to connect to a MAC even though the contents on the box of the satellite phone says it contains a MAC cable. Maybe we can buy one for ~$64 dollars but no garantees.

"Have you heard of WeeFee (WiFi)?!!" Your computer picks up and sends wireless messages. But our neighborhood doesn’t have it. Ahhhhh! But there is an internet cafe about a half a mile from us that does. "You need a repeater," we’re told. It strengthens the signal. But we don’t even get a weak signal so that was also a no-go. Waaaa!! But wait! Rumor has it, that we can buy an antenna and get WiFi!!! That’s where we’re at! It’s made in Germany! That sounds promising. It’s gonna cost an arm and a leg but if it works, we can utilize Skype (free long distance calling on the internet)! Two hits, one stone! We’re keeping everything crossed! I wonder if they rent or we can buy a sputnik?

Things do get done. And every day, there is the call to prayer. I hear it in the mornings, during the day, and at night. It sounds Eastern and the people flock and kneel on their prayer rugs facing east. Some are Toreg, some are Zarma and Hausa. Others are indestinguishable in origin. Five times a day Amina covers her head with a scarf, kneels and prays no matter how busy it is. She tells me that she does it to acknowledge her gratitude to God and pray for peace in the world. I have inadvertantly disturbed her prayers on two occasions and felt like an intruder but she smiles and tells me not to feel bad. "Love and peace are not sacred" she says.

Everything is good. We are adjusting to life here in Niamey. The sharp contrast is wearing off and I’m not gaping as much or as often as I was.

I am starting to miss little things such as the morning newspaper every day, and one stop shopping instead of going to multiple markets and not necessarily finding what I am looking for. We’ve placed an order on net-grocers (on line)for brown sugar and oatmeal, salsa and whole wheat flour. Other things are surprisingly readily available. We have a great french bakery ("Delice") with breads, coissants, and pastries.  We found a woman who delivers handmade tortillas, bagels, and pizza, plus a fish guy who has the freshest catch sold at an intersection with fish he pulls out of a cooler plugged into a tree(?). I’ve identified pike (which they call "Capitan"), catfish, perch, and carp.

Last Friday, I got off work at 1PM and my nurse, took me to a Chinese restaurant for lunch. It was surprisingly good considering I haven’t seen but one Asian here in Niamey. If anything, I would say it was Chinese with probably a French flair! For instance, the sweet and sour sauce was definitely a lite tangy sauce rather than that glaze they use in the states. The crispy chicken was probably a lean duck with dark meat on the breasts but tasty. So we are beginning to discover little comfort spots.

Boston University has a student exchange program with the University of Niamey. We were invited guests at their welcoming ceremony and had a great time. They had African dancing and music from different regions of Niger and the natives gave each student a Nigerian name. It was hot out but the kids were pacified by all the cold Coke and Fanta that seemed to be passes in an endless supply along with appetizer plates of salted green olives, popcorn, dates, and sweet roasted peanuts.

We were driving home Sunday evening when a boy ran out right in front of the car. I had to brake hard to keep from hitting him and the car behind me swerved to avoid me but lightly clipped my back bumper. A large crowd immediately gathered and the driver stopped next to me and got out of the car. I was told to always carry my radio with me and had it so I called the embassy. The marine guard advised me not to get out of the vehicle and to either drive to the embassy or somewhere that I could assess the damage safely. The other driver was trying to talk to me through the window and I lowered it slightly. He apologized and got in the car and drove away. The regional security officer heard me on the radio and called me right away and instructed me to drive to a safe place which I did and he met me there within 10 minutes. There was no damage to the embassy vehicle but the guy who drove away had a broken headlight. All told, there were no problems but a very good lesson in safety and security. They do take very good care of us here.

Our housekeeper (Zuri) is from Benin. She is probably about twenty eight years old and has 3 kids. Painfully shy, she barely says two words but does a very good job of cleaning house and occasional shopping. We also have a gardener and pool man, Pierre, who keeps our garden one of the most beautiful in Niamey. And our pool is divine (we can’t tell if he’s putting any chemicals into it but it’s so clean)! Luxuries of living at a hardship post!

The kids started school a few days ago. Both came home very happy. Camille told me she likes her teacher a lot and made some friends. Stefan only reports that there are 6 other kids from Portland, which means 6 other white kids are in his class. He also drew an elaborate picture of the bathroom toilet which required much description and we still don’t have a clue what he’s talking about.

Last night I had to stay late with a patient and when I was walking to my vehicle, the largest flock of  parrots I’ve ever seen were flying into the embassy trees in the courtyard to roost for the night. It was dusk as I drove home with a blazen sun in my rearview mirror. The car in front of me was a small taxi sedan which had a skinned cow with it’s head and hooves cut off, hanging out of the trunk.

Every day, I see things that my eyes cannot quite believe. Not because I am so ignorant but because it is such a different world than where we come from. The world is small but there is much to see, live, and experience.

I’ve been having a few nights of vivid dreams accompanied by insomnia. They say that both are quite common with the antimalarial medication I’m taking (Mefloquine). I don’t mind the dreams so much. At least not so far. They are different from my dreams in the past, mostly because they are in such crisp living color.

The first one I noticed, I was standing on a steep hillside overlooking a beautiful Caribbean bay. The water was royal blue and the sky was clear and sunny. There were a couple of people I didn’t recognize a little closer to the water form me when all of a sudden, a Medivac helicopter came swooping down over my head in the direction of the water and crashed into the bay! I was stunned and tried to run and help but my legs felt like they wouldn’t move forward very well (as so often happens in my dreams when I try to run). I could see the helicopter lying on it’s side on the bottom, submerged in shallow water and started yelling for the others to try and help when I woke up.

Last nights I dreamed I was in a near car crash while in a taxi and the driver was laughing because he didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak… whatever he spoke! Like a mad lunatic, he drove me over a wall and we plunged toward the ocean (also royal blue) as he continued to laugh hysterically. There was a building rising strait up out of the sea with a swimming pool on the roof top surrounded by sun bathers. I woke up before we hit water or could recognize anyone.

The most menacing thing about it was I couldn’t fall back asleep for 2-3 hours after! Just laying there thinking about nothing. I finally got up and read a medical journal about treating acne. Great!

Both dreams involved water and I’m here in the sub Saharan desert. I’m also a Pisces. Perhaps Yung’s dream analysis might be my next book.

It rained so hard last night I thought the roof would leak. This morning while driving to work, I could see washed out streets and people huddled under grass thatched huts with no walls cooking on an open fire, trying to stay dry. A young girl was tying her baby onto her back while three little naked kids stood next to her standing in the down pour rain, waiting for there millet cereal and slice of baggette. A motorbike pulled up to me while I was at a stop light. The passenger was a beautiful young woman holding an umbrella over herself and the driver. Three young children were turning over their donkey cart and climbing under to stay dry. Even I got wet just walking the short distance from the parking lot to my clinic. My nurse, Amina came shortly after, drenched to the bone, so happy and all smiles because of the rain; lifes blood to Niger.

On Saturday night, we went to the Grand Hotel to sit on the veranda overlooking the Niger River and have a few drinks. They offer brochettes (grilled beef on a skewer) with a salty spice powder you dredge it in! The Nigerian beer goes well with it. It has two giraffe on the label. We watched a beautiful sunset and Stefan played on the play structure there. Camille was invited to a sleep-over and didn’t come with us this time. The hotel has wireless internet so we took the laptop and sent a few e-mail. Also snapped a few pictures with it. A slice of heaven!

Bonjour!

WE had a super smooth ride. I was worried about getting through the security screening at Dulles International. Not because I was smuggling but because of all the lines. But because we flew business class and had diplomatic passports, they wisked us through ahead of everyone else and we sat in the Air France lounge for an hour before boarding! Help yourself to free drinks (Champagne in an ice bucket, Stolichnaya, Tangueray, VSOP cognac’s Wild Turkey, Beck’s, Heineken; nothing but the best)with french cheese plates and pate! I love this job already! We were giddy!

The flight from DC to Paris was very comfortable on business class. 7 1/2 hours. Arrived in Paris where once again we were treated to the Business lounge with coussants, french coffee, and again, all the spirits you can drink (and they do drink in the mornings). Then the flight to Niamey without any problems (5 1/2 hours).

The kids did great. Well behavied. Interesting observations and comments. The stewardess asked Stefan if he might see an elephant. "Yes!" he said, "but not any whales!"

We were greeted at the airport and again wisked through ahead of all those poor travelers standing in line. It was 30 degrees celcius.

The ride to our house was so interesting. People waking right up to and even in the street where cars whizz by at 50 MPH. Women dressed in African garb balancing pots on their heads and men on with their faces wrapped in scarves on camels, donkey carts, and motorcycles. Beggars and mamed, the police and crowded market places. The huts look like Mexico. Then Niger River was surprisingly beautiful with green grass and shrubs growing all around.

Our guard was standing in front of our house in the hot sun and opened the locked gate. We entered the compound and the gate was closed behind us. The house is large and square shaped made of stucco. Given the heat and the palm shrubs, it reminded me of Davis.The inside accommodations are quite nice. We got new furniture and the rooms are very spacious. There’s a filter on our drinking water and the beds have mosquito netting canapies covering them. We swam in the pool which was very clean and refreshing.

Today is my first day at work. I’m being introduced to the Ambassador and everyone else here at post. My clinic is quite well equiped and stocked. Amina, my nurse is so nice!

We are working on phones and getting e-mail set up at the house. A trip to explore the market too!

The extended stay in DC has allowed for some idle time. There were still a few errands to run, arranging for new travel orders and trying to get our title for the car. But mostly we had time to reflect upon our stay here at the expense and hospitality of our generous government. We really are treated like dignitaries with luxurious accommodations, excellent training, a car loan, and per diem pay. After twenty-six years of patient care, in this past month, I haven’t seen one patient! How can this be work? It seems unreal, like I might wake up to find this has all been a dream and there is a waiting room with lots of people wanting to be seen.

We decided to go to colonial Williamsburg. This township has been preserved as a historical landmark. Thomas Jefferson resided and studied law there. The citizens wear 18th century attire. The buildings are all preserved and maintained to fit that era. There are shops and working farms and businesses just like they were in 1776. It’s an interactive step-back in time.

Camille rented a costume and Stefan wore a three-pointed hat, the kind the minutemen wore. We saw how they cooked in a kitchen\ on an open fire and used smoke houses and salt cellars. We watched how baskets were made from white oak trees and sapplings. We toured the home and plantation of a wealthy lawyer and saw the washrooms, laundry, and kitchen areas of the slave quarters next to the fields and livestock. The shoemaker, the wig maker, the iron smith, and general store were all in operation and horse drawn carriages moved down the streets. We bought slices of watermelon from an open market. We visited the courthouse and saw the stockades and heard how people were brought to trial and judged at that time. When Camille rented the costume, she was given a letter requesting her to run a few errands at the post office and book binders for Miss Betsy Woodruff (who had to go help her sister, who had taken ill, and care for her 10 children.)

I had made reservations for dinner at the Shields Tavern which served an all you could eat fixed meal in the style of that time: sesoned greens with vinaigrette served with biscuits, kettle braised beef with field mushrooms and vegetables, roasted sage-rubbed turkey, root beer glazed ham, cornbread stuffing with gravy, buttermilk mashed potatoes, stewed furits, green beans with tarragon-shallot butter, and pumpkin bread pudding with vanilla bean sauce and a fruit cobbler for dessert.

An evening stroll down one of the main streets concluded our day there. We really enjoyed it. At first, I expected it to be a real tourist trap but I liked how nothing seemed commercial and how the entire town is set up to give you the experience of eighteenth century Williamsburg. Even the people strolling down the street in costume say “good day sir” and tip their hats to the ladies and engage you in conversation of the day (1776). One lady (not a woman, said the printer) commended us on having taught our daughter to read.

The basket-weaver lady had made a woven bird feeder and cardinals were flitting around the feeder. It was a thrill to see cardinals for the first time.

Overall, it has been an incredible experience here in the Washington DC area. Tomorrow we will check out of the hotel and drive our car to Lana’s who will care for it until they pick it up to ship to Niamey. She will drive us to the airport. We will miss the museums and fireflies and continue to think about our friends and family.