Big is Beautiful?

I happen to live in a country where the bigger you are, the better. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. It’s a sign of prosperity – you can afford to eat! I also live in a country where the dress code is conducive to unnoticeable weight gain. Take the common wrapper for instance. It’s a piece of cloth, 3 yards long. It’s standard wear for women. Skinny ones, fat ones (of which there are very few), and pregnant ones (of which there are very many).   One size does fit all. Now consider the smock or baby doll style top. Standard cover for the upper half. Can you see what I’m getting at? One could easily gain 10 pounds wearing these clothes and have no clue!

And if that’s not enough, one is encouraged to be big. In fact if one embarks on any type of weight loss effort and does begin to lose weight, he or she is constantly asked if he is sick. Why would you want to lose weight on purpose? Take Hannatu for instance. Remember the crying bride from my first post? Well Hannatu helps me in the kitchen. She worked for us in Maradi and when we moved, I hated to lose her. But I was not interested in being responsible for a single girl in Niamey. Besides, her fiance’, Yahaya, worked at our cake bakery in Maradi. This past year, we took over a bread bakery here in Niamey. We needed someone to bake the bread. Yahaya knew how. I was thrilled, knowing that they were soon to be married and he would bring her to Niamey as well. She’s back, and I’m happy. I think she’s happy too. I taught her how to make things like tortillas, bagels, pizza, lasagna, enchilada’s etc, and wasn’t really interested in starting all over. Back to big… We were working together in the kitchen yesterday, and I was telling her about the weight reduction plan Neal and I were on. Her enviously slim self replied. “Why? I can see you’ve already reduced. You’re good like this.” Now one might think that to be a nice complement. But you didn’t see her body language. While telling me how good I looked, she assumed a sort of sumo-wrestler stance – arms and legs straddled indicating there was too much fat in the way for them to hang loosely. Enough encouragement to make one forget the reduction plan and run straight to Taco Bell – if in fact there was one available.

And then there was the ministry team that came to visit several years ago. (Not mentioning names, you know who you are!) On the team there were some generously bodied ladies, myself included. We took the team to a village we hadn’t been to before to ride camels. Some of the ladies in the village were chattering among themselves. Nothing strange about that. But one lady finally approached me, and asked me a very sincere question. I started laughing so hard, I couldn’t even translate it to the bewildered team around me. This lady was looking around at all of us and said, “Where can we get some of that medicine that makes you fat?”

Such are the trials and tribulations I face at trying to be thin in a ‘wannabe fat world.’

Haircuts and prayer mats.

Yesterday, Trae told me he needed a haircut.  That’s a rare thing.  Not that he needs a haircut, but that the idea came from him.  You see, he’s sporting a long style these days.  Quite long.  We have a nice hair salon in Niamey, owned and operated by a Lebanese man.  Trae has his own wheels (a cross motorbike) so I began to explain to him how to get there.   He said “You don’t want to take me?”  Knowing him, and his tendency towards independence, I was surprised.  One thing I’ve learned in these teen years it to take advantage of any opportunity that presents itself to communicate and spend time together.

Trae usually drives his bike to school, but today, since I was going to pick him up, he rode with us.  Tobi went to a birthday party, and Tanika had a piano lesson.  We waited for her to finish, and then were on our way to see Roger’, our hair guy.  I was proud of myself for remembering how to maneuver through the Grand Marche’ with all the taxi’s, to the one way street.  I was happy to find an open parking ‘place’ on the street across from the salon.  What I wasn’t happy about was the man on the street waving his arms and making angry faces at me.  I assumed I had parked in his way.  So I backed up.  More angry man.  Trae opened the door.  “Mom, you drove over his mat – twice!”  What was the big deal one might ask?  Well, let me tell you, it was a major offense.  It was his prayer mat.  Of course I didn’t see it, but as far as he was concerned, I drove over it because it was in my way.  One can learn much about this culture with what happened next.  I felt terrible about the offense I had caused this man.  You see, you would never even walk on someone’s mat, prayer or other.  If required to walk on it, you would always remove your shoes.  You certainly wouldn’t drive on it!!  After finally figuring out how to park, I got out of the car to face the angry, offended man.  I spoke to him in Hausa, hoping he would understand since that was my only option. (Niamey is a Zarma region, and I don’t speak Zarma).  I approached him, apologizing, explaining how sorry I was and that I didn’t see the mat from my car.  His countenance immediately changed, and he began to smile.   He waved his hand and said ‘ba kome’ (no problem).  No problem!!??  Seconds before I should have been put in jail for my offense (not really, but almost!)  I apologized again and waved.  He waved back like we were old friends.  And you know what?  If I see him there again, we would be able to chat like we were old friends.  If only all of us would be so quick to forgive!

By the way, Trae’s haircut?  Turned out great.  He’s as good-looking as ever.  Though much shorter than he expected, it wasn’t my fault, it was Roger’s.  Looks like I’m in the clear all around!

Community

I’ve finally done it. I’ve taken the plunge. I’ve joined the world of bloggers. You’ll have to forgive my ‘site’, but I’m still working on it. I really don’t know what I’m doing, so not even sure how it looks. I have been very lazy in my journal writing for a very long time. I’ve written it in my head dozens of times. And now that so much time has passed, I’m very annoyed that I haven’t done it. I’ve missed writing about so many great (and I suppose not so great) things. I continue to be amazed at how many people were interested in my journaling, and have asked why I haven’t been writing. So, I’m trying something new. I thought maybe if I used this format, I’d be more committed to my writing. I was actually inspired by my friend’s blog site – thanks Patty.

There’s no way I can catch up with all I’ve missed, but maybe as I write, past things will come up. But for today, I want to write about community.

I live in Africa. There are many misconceptions about life here. But one thing I think most people understand is that community is a way of life in Africa. By that I mean people’s lives revolve around each other. Not just their families, but their entire village. In Niger, a good majority of the people are born in their village, live there, and die there, never having gone further than the nearest market – on foot. Most ‘Westerners’ first response to that would be to think how tragic it is. But I’ve driven or walked through many of those villages. Though most of the people have been through at least one tragic event, tragedy is not what you see on their faces. They are smiling faces. Women laughing and chattering around the well as they pull up their water. This is where information is exchanged. I guess I can call it like it is – gossip! They pound their grain together – 2 pestles pounding rhythmically in the same mortar. They make the work look easy – even fun! Everyone knows everything about everyone. The good, the bad and the ugly. The men sit under trees weaving, playing cards and yes, gossiping. Children are everywhere – they are running, teasing, rolling old tires with sticks and making ‘cars’ out of tin cans. Baby naming ceremonies are huge events, with most of the village attending, as well as people from surrounding villages near and far. Same with weddings. But those who live in the developed world and visit a Niger village can see only what they consider to be sub-standard living conditions. They have to pull water from a well by hand, they cook outside over an open fire, they have their babies in their mud homes, they live in temperatures greater than 110 degrees much of the year – with no electricity to even run a fan, they eat from a community tray – with their hands! But if you look beyond all of this, you will see happiness on the faces you look at. This is their life. There is no doubt, they face much tragedy: most have had a baby or child die, disease is common, hunger is common, education is lacking-if not non-existent. I could go on. But in all of that, they have each other. The whole village is there to help them, and to just be with them in the situations they face. And then they go on. These things aren’t the reasons their lives are tragic. We are working to help them improve their living situations, but the biggest tragedy is the fact that most of them don’t know Jesus. (We are working to change that too!) Where will they spend eternity? Their life on this earth is short compared to that!

Today we had a wedding in a village, uniting the children of 2 of our pastors. It was wonderful. But the bride cried during the ceremony. She cried the entire 30 minute drive we took to her new husband’s village, and cried (sobbed, really) as the village ladies came by to greet her. You see, she grew up in her village. Spent all of her life there. Hannatu and Yahaya were very much looking forward to getting married, as they had been ‘promised’ for more than 2 years. But today, reality hit home. Hannatu was leaving her community. And it was hard. I was sitting next to her on the mat covered dirt floor, pretty much at a loss for words, as the women came to see her. I told them that she was sad and they should encourage her, as they understood how she was feeling. Many of them were transplants themselves. One lady said to me, “Don’t worry about her. She’s not sad, she’s really very happy.” What was I thinking? A new community has already begun!