Saturday, December 22, 2007
The setting was at night, the stars were out, many were coming and going to the night market to socialize and buy food, it was the conclusion to a typical day in my village.
The next day I would be leaving for the States and needed to address my village and share with them my thoughts and provide the proper gratitude
Behind my house between the mosque a single lantern on the ground marked the spot of the meeting. Many came, some familiar, some not. Women, men, children, ages of all ranges came to hear me speak.
I expected to be nervous, I had never addressed a village before, especially in a different language other than my own. But that wasn't the case, I felt completely at ease, like this was what my life is supposed to be like.
In the dim light I spoke for the first time in Hausa to a mass gathering of my village.
Not to villagers who needed me but to my new family whom I needed more.
I spoke of my work, and gave a thousand thank you's for the devotion and grace of my villagers effort to welcome me to the village and include me as one of their own.
"When I return and people ask me where I am from, I will say my home is Dan Saga, and that new family is a village in Africa. "
If it sounds overly sentimental, well it should.
Back in this place I am visiting, yet where I have lived for a large portion of my life, things easily become hazy and its easy to lose your way, but in Niger its simple. If you have family, community, and a place to call your own in life what could anyone else really need.
Prior to leaving for Africa all ever wanted for as long as I can remember was to follow my dreams and live in Africa. Now there is so much more I want.
In so many ways leaving everything behind in the States brought me closer to home. I left Dan Saga certain that my future was in agriculture and my future home would be on my family farm in northern Missouri. But even to get to that point is going to be another adventure, but none the less exciting.
But I am not coming back just to seclude myself away on a farm like many tend to do
I am planning on finishing my work in Dan Saga for atleast the end of the next growing season and then after that if I feel satisfactory with my work then its going to be time to move on.
So what am I going to do?
Glad you asked.
To take over my farm means that I have a lot to learn about many things, especially in learning new models of Agriculture but the goal is to use my imagination and create a farm entirely unique.
My goal is to turn a traditional American family farm into a local, regional, national and international resource,training, and recreational center for farmers, artist, peace makers, or anyone who feels compelled to enjoy the pleasures of living off the land and connecting with others.
Currently I am looking into the possibility working with my good friend Matt McCue (the guy pulled out of the PC to return to Iraq) in California to hone my skills and expand on my ideas. My goal is to create a national network of farms where vet's from the Iraq war can come, take some time to heal, learn a valuable skill, and hopefully teach others about the pleasures of how to nurture life instead of take it.
Why am I doing this?
Because its needed.
This is just the tip of the iceberg and its only going to get more interesting from there.
Its nearly christmas and there are many things I am thankful for in life.
I have wonderful friends, family, and many others always rooting for me to go further in life, your support is always greatly appreciated and it inspires me to keep going further.
The support I recieve reminds me if that if what I am supposed to do with my life is genuine than those who understand will listen and become part of it in each individuals own way.
Its the wonder of how closely we are all connected to each other
Guess this is my way to thank you all over the last year for every bit of support that has overwhelmingly came my way.
okay my Nigerien sense of time still persist and as always I am running late for my own party two hours away.
To sai anjima, tahi da lafiya
"Okay until later go in peace"
Saturday, December 15, 2007
I am laying prone on soft pillows listening to incredible blues music streamed live from the Internet and soaking up the atmosphere by the flickering light of a lit fireplace and I ponder the question.....
is this home?
I know the faces, my dog is resting loyally beside me, and the BBQ ribs just eaten were delicious but something is missing.
Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled to be home but this life is going to take some getting used to.
the food is plentiful and tasty and readily available but the connection and intimacy i feel in Africa to my environment is gone. I am reminded once again how we are living apart of nature instead of a part of it.
None of the food consumed today was by my own hands, nor from anyone I knew. In fact with only a few meals eaten today more was spent than what i spend for nearly an entire month on myself in my village.
When i flew into New York our flights were all canceled and as the lines to the help desk congested tempers flew "this is absurd!" "how can this happen?" "what are you going to give us because we can't fly out?"
Sai Hankuri "have patience" It is not human incompetence that created this situation its the whims of nature and there is nothing that can be done so why not stop bickering, meet some amazing people from all over the world, hell drink a beer and relax.
When was the last time you really relaxed?
Once during hot season in Niger I waited for over 12 hours in the bush in a unfamiliar town, no money, no language, didn't even know if the car was coming. But i made the best of it.
I wrote, met people, played mandolin, and just passed the time as seen fit.
I'm not trying to prove anything, waiting is just a part of life and when you have to, do something. But just don't complain wastefully and ruin someone else's day and your own.
Somethings are just beyond your control, so sit back, ride it out and find a way to make something positive out of it.
The next morning after flying into NYC/USA my damn Nigerien mindset said "take your time" get to the gate and you'll leave when their ready to.
The end result being,the ticket counter thought I was nuts for thinking like this and my return home was delayed for an afternoon.
But because I took my time I opted to take a connecting flight to salt lake city and fly over the US o' A and reaquainted myself with the majesty of the American landscape and visit a place never before visited.
the worst that happened was that i met some nice people, readjusted a little more to America, drank some incredibly tasty microbrews, and then had many a discussion with strangers and even met the "we should just kill em all over there and take the oil" mentality.
Who is the terrorist here?
this guy was even Native American go figure.
A couple years ago I went to Mexico and stayed in some friends apartment during christmas break for a month.
After returning people asked or actually stated "makes you appreciate what we have eh?"
My answer was, nah it just made me understand and respect the people more who leave an incredible culture and their families to work for practially nothing and little thanks.
They might not have much, but they have a lot more joy from what little they do have.
My first full day back seems more of a novelty than a realization that this was my former life.
I have been home for only a short time and I can already conclude that there needs to be a Peace Corps program for America.
But we need the volunteers to come here.
but all and all it is wonderful to be back and spend time with my family.
Merry Christmas everybody it is good to be back.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Recenlty within the last two days land mines have exploded in my city, (Maradi) and another volunteers city. (Tahoua) There were two nigerien deaths and a few injuries.
Also about two weeks ago another ordinance exploded in the city of Dosso in close proximity to one of the States’ largest fuel collection points.
No Peace Corps volunteers have been harmed or is in danger.
I would like to forever repeat that.
Currently we are all on stand down, which means that all volunteers are on lockdown to their current position, either village or regional city. If the violence escalates then the next process will be to collect all volunteers to their regional capital until further notice from the Peace Corps administration.
But if the worst occurs then all PCV’s will be collected, sent to Niamey, and then we will close up shop and wait outside of Niger until the higher ups decide whether to continue our efforts in Niger or not.
But if things continue to escalate and this occurs then PCV’s have the choice to either wait things out, or commit to another Peace Corps program and contiue their service for the duration of their contract.
Currently we have three volunteers from Guinea how were relocated after violence and unrest earlier this year.
Might be interesting to serve in two different places. But Shush, none of that talk.
Dan Saga is home.
As can be expected many of us are praying that this doesn’t occur, Peace Corps Niger is one of the longest running programs in the operation and it would be a pity if once again the unrest of man and his worst of his virtues to wage war against fellow man has once again prevented others from living in peace.
It definitely isn’t the first time that my time here or my life has been affected by this foul virtue of man.
Its shaped my life, guess its why i do what i do.
Someone has to wayfarepeacefully.
Unsure of what I would do if the worst occurs, I feel confident stepping onto that plane returning to the Estados Unidos (USA) on Thursday the 13th, that I will be able to return after my vacation and that this journey was not spent in vain.
Okay I will write more about this tomorrow but for the time being I just wanted to give a brief summary of the current news.
Peace be onto you all, my devotion to promoting it could not be more emboldend
p.s. Merry Christmas.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Okay so I was released from the clinic today and overjoyed to be released to my own devices in the greatest sandbox of all time.
The Diagnosis…Well who knows, after a week full of being donating fluids of all types then being pricked, prodded, palpated and ordered to rest my arm looks less like one of a volunteer and one more of a needle junky….and its not over yet Grrrr!!!!
Shrugging our shoulders and scratching our heads the doctor and myself just equated my sickness to the last couple tumultuous weeks out of my village.
I guess my body just said enough was enough and decided to make me stop, and man I am glad that it did, the cheeseburgers in Niamey are exquisite!
This has been a good opportunity once again to learn my limitations and how to deal with new challenges thrown my way.
But seriously three weeks ago I left my village packed for four days, since then I have traveled to the far eastern reaches of the Peace Corps got lost out in the bush, lost my friend (matt for the war) and then picked up whatever garden variety of insidious virus, bacteria, vermin, amoeba, or god knows what else kind of infection that crept into my system.
Friday the 16th I will be heading back to Maradi and then will be resting for a couple days after that maybe until thanksgiving, so till then I will be working on the planning stage of seeking funding for a field day in my village (teaching how to work with acacia trees and make food from their seeds), then build a bigger tree nursery, and then acquire enough seed and other materials to potentially plant around 6,000 trees next year after my return.
Happily I was not chosen to be a volunteer trainer this year, after this stint away from the ‘ville and my rapidly approaching future vacation back to the land of opulence and indulgence I need to spend as much time as possible there.
Okay I am tired, not cranky, but seriously very hungry so I am going to get going so until again sai anjima.
Thanks for all your phone calls, emails, and prayers while I was helpless and laid up
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
By Claudia ParsonNEW YORK, Sept 7 (Reuters) - Matt McCue had a moment of enlightenment in Iraq while guarding the back door of a house where his fellow soldiers were hunting Saddam Hussein -- he bit into a sweet lime and discovered an interest in horticulture.
Now he's part of a movement seeking to help returning U.S. veterans find peace in civilian life by tilling the land."
You take someone who has been walking around the street looking for insurgents, who's basically trained to capture people, to kill them ... you can't put them in some ordinary job and expect them to grasp on to it," McCue said."To go from that to watching things grow, to taking care of life, has been a very important step for me," he said by telephone from Niger in West Africa, where he is a Peace Corps volunteer teaching agriculture."
It's beautiful to go to that nurture mode," he said, recalling how his curiosity was sparked by the produce in farmers' markets in Iraq. "I had no idea there was a variety of lime that tasted like that."
McCue will be in New York this weekend for a forum on the impact of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan on rural communities. Organized by a group called Farms Not Arms, the forum is part of the buildup to Sunday's Farm Aid concert, a benefit for family farmers that was first launched in 1985.
McCue, who grew up in the suburbs of Albuquerque, New Mexico, said it was hard to leave his field of millet, sesame and beans in the village of Garbey Kourou, even for a short trip. He is hoping his story may be an example to others.
William O'Hare, senior fellow at the Carsey Institute at the University of New Hampshire, analyzed U.S. military casualties in a report last year and found the number of war deaths of soldiers from rural areas was disproportionately high.
"About 19 percent of the soldier-age population live in rural America but they account for 27 percent of the deaths," O'Hare told Reuters. He linked that to a scarcity of jobs in poor rural areas where people were less likely to go to college or work full-time jobs, making a military career more appealing.
POLITICS OF WAROne of the biggest names associated with Farm Aid, musician Willie Nelson, has long been an anti-war campaigner and Farms Not Arms says it opposes the war in Iraq.
But McCue and others involved in Saturday's forum said they were politically neutral and focused on how farmers can work with veterans to their mutual advantage.
"Our farmers are in trouble right now and so are our soldiers," said Nadia McCaffrey, whose son Patrick was killed in Iraq in 2004 -- one of at least 3,750 U.S. military deaths there since the March 2003 invasion.
She founded a group called Veterans Village to help soldiers returning with post traumatic stress disorder and other problems. The group plans to set up a self-sustaining organic farm in North Carolina for veterans.
"The farm is going to be a safe place for them to be," said McCaffrey. "Many of them thought they were going to go back to life and put the war behind them but it didn't quite work this way."Saturday's event will mark the launch of a politically neutral group called the Farmer-Veteran Coalition to provide farm jobs, training and land for veterans, organizers said.
Steve Ledwell, a U.S. Navy veteran and recovering alcoholic and drug addict, runs a shelter in New Hampshire called the Veterans Victory Farm which houses up to 19 veterans."Getting back to the basics of farm life is very therapeutic," Ledwell said. A similar facility for as many as 200 veterans is planned for Long Island, New York.
When McCue looks back on his time in Iraq, he likes to recall farmers passing through checkpoints to take their crops of watermelons or pomegranates to markets that continued to function despite the violence and chaos.
"I realized there was a power in that," he said. "There are more soldiers in the United States than farmers at this point. Five years down the line maybe it won't be rare for vets to take this path."
Friday, November 9, 2007
By Joshua Anderson
I come from a small farming community in northern Missouri, and if there is one thing I thought I knew about farmers, it is was that they are all reluctant to change and generally loathe when someone tells them how to change. So when I moved into my village and decided to do just that, I came with low expectations and wanted to spend the first year just learning, not be preachy, but just work and see what comes of it.
Niger has a notoriously harsh climate, and except for a few short months of the year the heat and unforgiving nature of the Sahel, is washed away by intermittent powerful storms. The entire population depends on this season and welcomes the transition. Gleefully, as an outsider, I was not used to the climate and it was a welcome break from the over 120 degree heat.
Working in my field was like stepping back into the days when I was young kid with too much confidence and trying to impress my friends by brazenly sneaking onto the demonic roller coaster. All it proved was that despite being a little noxious and just a little worse for wear the ride wasn’t that bad, but the end was none the less greeted quite excitedly.
After the rains began I lived in my field everyday was spent fascinated watching my efforts guide a barren sandy landscape into a lush green field of imagination and sustenance for all to enjoy.
As the rains continued and my field developed, multiple villages started gossiping about my field and soon I had regulars coming to inspect and critique my work. Though there were some who only came to shoot down my ideas, most did come to learn, and they saw my vision and it sparked their imaginations. One of those in particular was my friend Hassan. He came to my field daily and we would spend countless time discussing each facet of my field. Eventually I decided to gauge his interest and go ahead and drop the question….
“Everyday you’re here asking question about how my field works, next year do you want to have a field like this?”…….”Yes I would, can we work together?” YES!!!! “Truly” MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!!
The sensation of the first rain is like being removed from the dangers and stresses of the Sahelien climate, its being reminded by nature that despite its unforgiving reputation, it too has its moments of tenderness and understanding.
That day when Hassan affirmed my work and decided to implement this concept into his field it was like the first rain; all the soreness, the blisters, the heat, and uncertainties were replaced by that same sensation of the first rain. The first had come, the rest afterwards were nice, but never as memorable.
At the end of harvest season I had a meeting with some of my local farmers to talk about my work and when asked what they felt about my field, they replied unanimously that they too wanted to implement my field model. It was better than remembering the first rain, at this moment I stopped only remembering the first rain and appreciated the entire rainy season. It’s great to see your friends follow your example and decide to ride the roller coaster and learn themselves.
damn its still hot!!
How the hell did that happen?
What happened to September, October?
It seems like mere days ago when my friends and I played at the 45th anniversary celebration for Peace Corps Niger. But here I am on this day scratching my head, wondering how can time pass this quickly. Well I can’t answer for the whole 10 months but I give a story about something that happened after my cross country trip
A strange trip…..
Approximately two weeks ago I came to Maradi to meet a pair of my boss’s for site development which means to help evaluate a village near by for placement of a new volunteer. My goal was to work on some projects, help with site development, and then travel with the “higher ups” to the furthest reaches of Peace Corps Niger, The Zinder Region.
But as we all know, a true journey never goes according to plan.
The Zinder Zone…
Zinder is the furthest east that Peace Corps works in Niger, this is also one of the most scenic due to the incredible mini-mountains and random boulder piles. Zinder is the barren remnant of what was once an ocean thousands of years ago. Traversing through the region my thoughts ran wild as my imagination recreated what was there so long ago.
As beautiful as this region is, lord am I happy not to live there. Zinder makes my sand box of a region look like the garden of Eden. In Zinder the soil is even more nutrient deprived, the rains less frequent, naturally the temperatures are blistering.
My goal traveling to Zinder was to retrieve an abandoned mandolin (mission accomplished), visit my friends village, and discuss some agriculture topics with other volunteers interested in adapting some of my ideas for next years growing season.
Traveling east on the national highway past the city Zinder I was going to visit my dear friends Emily and Henry (Hemily)and experienced possibly the most bone jarring ride yet since being in Niger. Good thing we left too early to eat or drink anything, if I had, it would have been liberated within the car or worse yet on one of my boss’s.
Upon arriving in their village, the car stopped on the road and one of boss’s said, “Okay here’s the village get out and find your way, we are going to keep going and visit some sites. See you when we get back.”
How hard could it be to find the only white peoples house in a village of about 3,000?
Finding Hemily’s house wasn’t too difficult oops sorry, Hemily is what I call them since they’re married, they have a pretty remarkable village, geographically speaking. Hemily’s village is located smack dab in the middle of some of the most very infertile locations yet seen in Niger, yet their village is an oasis. Seriously an Oasis!!! I have always wanted to see one!!!! Seriously people life checklist kind of stuff!!!
Located beneath the village an underground river flows and supports an agricultural microclimate well suited for gardens, and a range of non typical crops not grown in the region, such as sugar cane. Passing through the transition from oasis back into the Sahel is a process that one only needs to take a few steps away from the green and lush to be reunited with the Sahelien brown.
Passing through this microclimate taught me how uncharacteristically forgiving the Sahel can be with its gifts but reminded sharply within less than a hundred meters why the sahel has such a harsh reputation.
So shortly after being shoved out of the car and left to fend for my own in an unknown place I reached my friends house, and then asked a woman where Henry was, (Emily was in Zinder). Our Discussion:
Ina Muhammedu? (Where’s Henry) Muhammedu is his Hausa name.
“Ya a Gonashi” (He’s at his field)
how far is his field?
Tomodalla Ka iya gwada mini gonashi?
Good enough for me, can you show me?
As luck would have it she just happened to be going that way, so with my mandolin strapped to my back, half a liter of water, and two pieces of homemade beef jerky I embarked to see my friends field. How exciting.
Kilometers later, the Mountains that were once in the distance were now nearly casting shadows on my path, and as I arrived at my friend’s field my phone which hadn’t had service in nearly two days went off.
It was my friend Henry asking where I was. He was working in his garden that day and waiting for me. Back at the oasis. GARRRR!!!!
He felt terrible.
“What, You have a Garden!?!? Gee Whizz!!! I don’t even know what those look like anymore. No worries, its an adventure, this place is amazing, see you soon”
So turning my bad luck into a good adventure it was worth it to walk out and seize the opperutnity to explore and observe people’s fields and discuss agriculture with them. It was an incredible chance to factor in new environments and imagine how my mode of farming would mold to such a contrasting environment than my own location.
I know from reading my blog you all might misconstrue the notion that I am indestructible and 10 feet tall, but really I have weaknesses. Heat is my kryptonite.
Under the surface I was slightly worried to be so far out, having no idea of my location, alone, and to top it off being way out in the bush during the middle of the day with no water, Not to bright.
If you would read my medical history, it speaks of having survived some pretty nasty heat injuries, the worst being heat stroke a couple of times.
I was concerned yes, but not worried.
I can handle this. It’s a Journey.
Fortuitously a neighboring farmer approached and said Henry didn’t come out to his field today because he was waiting for me.
Bastard!!!! It would have been very helpful 10km back to know this!!!)
(actually said this in English along with a couple other colorful explicatives)
But it so happened that his wife was sick with a bad headache so he was returning to the village to get here some aspirin. (20km round trip) and he would be happy to show me back to the village.
At this time I had been in Henry’s field less than 5 minutes, realizing that I had no water I asked him if he could spare some water, and he produced a 25 liter jug that his wife had just carried to their field on her head. (maybe that’s why she had a head ache)???
Water never tasted so good, all I had to do was imagine something else instead of thinking about the brown sewer water being drank.
In these situations its recommended you drink what ever you can, and take the meds later. I had a sip, it was really bad, I lied, Henry was on the move, he was going to meet me half way.
Within 5 minutes of walking back I asked my sprite of a guide to stop, the first warning sign of dehydration had set in, I went behind a bush, runny poo!! Bad timing…
Only 10 km to go, its midday, my watch calculates temperature and it said “cracka you crazy!!” It was over 115 F out in the open sun.
We trudged on, I regulated my breathing and pace count, focused my mind to numb out the pain and we speed walked the first 5-7km or so. After this initial push I took a quick breather to keep my confidence steady, we continued, and then the bottom fell out. All at once breathing became erratic, I then realized that my body stopped perspiring k’s back, and my behind was seriously dragging. I tried to keep on, but about every ¼ to ½ kilometer I need to rest for a couple of minutes and then every 10 minutes, 5,….then I collapsed under the shade of a Gao tree.
The Gao tree has some merciless hooks for thorns so when I crashed under the tree I landed in a pile of these suckers, but the pain went unnoticed, my body was numb, limp as a boned fish. I was helpless.
My concern was on the brink of panic.
Despite the blurry vision, and a serious heat injury settling in, the last remains of my energy were devoted to my salvation. No not praying, but with the coordination of a punch drunk fighter my fingers jumbled a message that stated.
In trouble, send help ,have water!! Hurry
As my thumb searched for the send button I lifted my head from the sand and what can only be described as seeing a mirage, my friend Henry an angular six foot three man with a round straw cap, and Olympic marathon aspirations walked over the dune, he was not carrying water. Bastard.
For about 45 minutes we discussed Hemily’s experiences and sat patiently catching up as my strength recovered. Eventually I was well enough to move on, only a couple of Km’s to go, ashamed I had to ask Henry to do something I never asked anyone to do before. He had to carry my mandolin the rest of the way.
In all my years of hiking, road marching in the army, and other outdoor adventures I have never had to ask anyone to carry my gear.
But I like living, so I guess its an even trade off.
So Henry carried my mandolin, and I hobbled back on what ever reserves of strength that could be mustered. My strength came from the joy of knowing that I narrowly escaped a very grave situation, yes I would live to hike another day.
My panic waned, this is adventure.
A couple hours later as we rested, rehydrated, ate some lunch and caught up on more things, generally feeling much better, Henry’s phone buzzed with a text message, it was my message.
In trouble, send help ,have water!! Hurry
Damn we had a good laugh.
Welcome to Zinder, it felt like the farthest I have ever traveled on this incredible planet.
While waiting for my monthly shuttle and resting from my cross country trip laziness struck and i laid around on a mattress for the last week wimpering feebly for someone to hold me. Why?
Well I what i thought was laziness actually was a pretty gruesome case of kidney stones, YOUCH!!!!!
So then i called the med bureau and told them my symptoms and specific difficulties, and they said get on the bus and come to Niamey. NOOOOOOO, I CAN NOT TRAVEL!!!
I tried every excuse in the book, the last thing i wanted was to hop on the bus for another 15 hours with the pain i was in, all i want to do is return to my village. So after cursing the doctor and then received the threat of being admin seperated if i wasn't on the bus the next day, here I am, alone in Niamey wearing borrowed clothes.
It was kind of funny, i saw the doctors today and apparently the news of my fight with the doc' not to leave spread quickly, apparently i left them with the impression that if i came in then I would be slinging rocks and dropping F bombs. I really wanted to, but......if you know me i can spit a little venom and make it burn. But damn it, its done with a freindly smile.
But......Ultimately they were right. I was trying to get back to post with kidney stones.
What the hell was I thinking?
I just miss my village. Its my home.
The day before coming to Niamey (again) I returned to my village to tell my villagers that I would be returning but that i was in poor health and needed to go to niamey. They were sad, but when i gave them some rabbits to care for they were pretty excited. Its a project i am starting in my village and it has the potential to make alot of money. They were really excited to have thier resident white guy back, even for a short stint, but to have the highly anticpated rabbits that they were promised finally come. Wow!!
I miss my village, its my home.
When i left my village two weeks ago I was expecting to be back after three or four days, instead i have been constantly on the road for the last two weeks. What a wild ride its been traveling cross country, nearly suffering a heat stroke while lost in the bush, and then having my best friend get pulled out of Niger to fight again in iraq, and now kidney stones. What else can this place throw at me?
What ever it is, its never enough.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
I am in Niamey, a group of us have gotten together and we are going to fight!
Matt is completely on board and is going to refuse to return to Iraq, so we have a lot of work to do, but with a unified message and the help of everyone this will catch a fire.
Concerning our message we wish to stay out of the politics of the debate, this issue with Matt is beyond the legitimacy or status of the Iraq war, this is a human issue. We want to raise the issue of matt’s problem and fix this situation, peace corps volunteers are serving our country, and they should be allowed to continue thier service.
We need to strive towards influencing key legislators, especially in New Mexico (matt's home state) and change department of defense policy and prevent this from reoccurring in the future.
I have finally calmed down and have accepted the situation, but however the question remains?
What does it say about the Peace Corps or America when we start pulling our peace makers out of their post to go off to war?
Initially this has been devastating to the morale of everyone in PC Niger, but many have rallied together and we realize that we do have a chance to get what we want, now we just have to generate the buzz.
Last night was a pretty difficult evening, Matt and I and a few others gathered at a friends house and we played, oh lord we played. Throughout the night many misty eyes were looked on as matt and I jammed, we all thought this was the end.
Fortunately Air France is having a little strike or protest, so they are not able to fly Matt out of the country until Tuesday so we are going to have a few extra nights with him until he departs and get everything strted. I will for sure be in Niamey until Tuesday or Wednesday 30th/31st, so call, email, text, if your in.
But man we all needed to unwind last night, we were all at our nerves ends, so thank you “mai gida” (head of the house hold) for the great food, fantastic beverages and providing a place we could sit around, relax, and be allowed without distraction to do what we do best with our imaginations and instruments. Damn I am going to miss our jam sessions!!!!
Currently we are coming together and there are many things in the works to get things moving. So by Tuesday there should an information packet for everyone to have and use for wide spread dispersion.
It cannot be stress enough, this needs to get out, and we need to be out there promoting peace.
So as Matt begins his legal battle and other obstacles I will be coming home in a month for support and if possible we are going to try and connect and hit the road so to speak, talk with groups, media, who ever.
It is critical that we get out and start promoting peace and talk about how matt is going to help vets with his veterans farm. We also have a lot to share about what its like to promote peace, work towards establishing food security, and many other ramblings.
Damn it feels good to be able to joke about this now, seriously the tension has been thick.
As for my own movements, its true that christmas is a difficult time to mobilize or arrange for events but I am coming home the 13th and by the 14th I am willing to come to schools, churches or where ever to start talking with people about this, or just my work in development in general.
If the situation demands, I might be able to extend my time back in the states to work on this issue so seriously guys use us. But remember we make 7$ a day so our resources are limited.
Okay we are having a meeting in about an hour and I’ll keep you up on our efforts.
I also have a lot of good news to tell about my last month of being at post, So much has happened, in essence the entire dynamic of my village life has changed and its all choice stuff.
So hang in there, I am doing better, thanks to the some of you that have already started mobilizing back home, and those who have supported us already.
Yours in peace,
this is just to inform you all of current events more official things will be posted soon.
Those of you who know me well know how happy I am here, but in light of recent events the skies have clouded and a storm is brewing in my future and I think I am going everyone’s support and love to pull through this.
Mere days ago I learned that my good friend Matthew Mc Cue who is currently serving in Peace Corps with me is at this time being released from the responsibilities of his Peace Corps service and is being handed redeployed orders to serve another tour as a infantry soldier in Iraq.
A couple of years ago Matt served distinguishably as an infantry platoon sergeant leading his soldiers into the thickest swarms of the urban warfare landscape leaving alive, but in serious need for coming to terms with his war.
Matt’s’ solace was discovered though horticulture and his gifts to humanity and his own personal healing have blossomed beautifully by his understanding of how to nurture life instead of take it. Years spent after his war has been devoted to healing, moving on, and learning how to positively impact other returning veterans.
A few weeks ago matt was recognized for his involvement towards reconciliation and outreach and was flown to the United States to speak about his story at the Farms not Arms Rally, and was also invited as a guest to attend the recent Farm Aid concert. Matt doesn’t involve himself with politics, or committing himself to bipartisan opinions, he lives, he grows things, and he enlightens the word through his work and his self styled “socially sloppy” goofy way of walking through life.
As a result of this act of courageousness he feels he is being punished for his involvement and has been ordered to return to the place that nearly destroyed him. Our goal is to cease the continuing madness and struggle to keep people like matt exactly where they belong.
Waging Peace not War!
What ever your opinion of the war is, or political affiliation, this is not the place or time. If you feel this is an injustice to those who wage peace, and those who served their time then....
This is a time for action.
This is a man who served, did his time, and has healed healthily and continues to reach out to help others unselfishly.
Matt’s goal after the Peace Corps is to attend a horticulture institute and build on his passion for horticulture and promote recovery for other returning vets by establishing farming communities and opportunities for other veterans transitioning from the struggles of Iraq to the United States.
This is a case of those who struggle for peace but are swallowed up by the tidal wave of injustice spread by war.
As the first night of this news slowly digested we thought naively that this had to be unprecedented but sources higher up say Matt is not alone. Since the war has been going on what will be the onset of its 5th year this coming march, many vets who were answering the call for service once again but this time,for peace, are being pulled from our ranks to join the military’s due to contractual agreements after their service.
What kind of days are we living in when answering the call to serve others for peace is trumped by the war?
Though I am former military but not a veteran I as well as many others consider ourselves just that after our Peace Corps service, and we will answer or stand as such when the time comes to honor and recognize the efforts of others.
As Peace Corps volunteers we serve humanities need at great sacrifice to our health, family, and personal lives. Everything we are is invested and challenged for at least two years, some have even lost thier lives in service to our country and humanity.
Do you think this warrants exemption from the recall contract with the military?
Then if so we have a fight and we are going to need everyones help.
Make no mistake about it, matt left with his physical health and the ability to heal emotionally the last tour, if he goes back the chance of returning with either is limited to deathly narrow margins.
As of Sunday, October 28th Matt will leave Niger with an uncertainty of his outcome, in a month I am coming home and I will be silent no more.
As soon as we put together our plan we will need the complete mobilization of our peace movement; we need contacts back in the states to inform everyone possible of this injustice. I know I am coming home in the worst time of the year to do this, but the time to stand up and speak doesn’t adhere to a seasonal calendar.
Matt’s story is the dose of medicine our country needs to stop, listen, and come to the understanding that we tried war, it didn’t take.
IT IS TIME FOR PEACE.
My phone number her is 227 96 43 45 22 and I can send and receive text messages any time, but can only speak on the phone on Mondays when I go to my market or to my regional hostel. Which for the next week I will have cell service. Call!!!
In these times both sides are mobilized and when these occasions arise it is the responsibility of the meek, and peacemakers to stand together to show how effective and courageous believing in peace really is.
If you wish to mobilize with us the time is now. Call text, email, write comments on my blog, send this story out, get it generating.
There will be ensuing blog entries and emails that will detail our plan of action so please stay posted, but have patience.
Aside from this development my plan is still to come home and spread my experiences of working as a development worker living in West Africa. My goal is to speak about development issues and raise awareness of this monstrous event.
If you are interested in having me, matt or the both of us to speak, play music, or whatever, please do not hesitate to contact me.
and peace steadily guiding my hand….
I love you all.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Rainy season has come and gone, my field has developed beyond any of my expectations and harvest season will be ensuing for the next couple of weeks. My plan for the next two months before coming home is to burrow into my village and work on integrating, language, and a few other things…
What may those other things be? Glad you asked.
Well after harvest season at about the mid-to end of October I will be heading to Zinder to pick up my computer so I can begin making videos and other multimedia morsels of my existence here. Its all for you peeps!!
It’s about a 3-4 hour bus ride east of Maradi, I plan on traveling by bus this time, but prior to leaving for ‘merica my plans are to ride my bike with a couple of friends from Zinder to Maradi. This will probably take two days and will be a good test run prior to achieving my ultimate goal. Riding from Zinder to
I am getting into the rabbit business, and my villagers seem incredibly excited to start working with rabbits. After harvest season I am going to purchase three or four rabbits and let them get busy. Might have to name my house the “Bunny Ranch”
My goal for this project is to create a lucrative business venture for women and children in my village and ultimately provide households with a cheap plentiful supply of meat.
Prior to coming to Maradi a month ago my villagers were heckling me saying “why you leaving” your never here” why you going to Maradi”…Well I am going to look into raising rabbits here….”you are?”….”Then why are you here, get going we want rabbits”
All I need to do is build a couple of hutches and start forming a women and childrens group with individuals motivated to work with the rabbits.
The Goat Lane Project.
Now this is kind of a regional development idea that popped in after wandering around the bush and looking at peoples field. I started to recognize good things that my villagers were doing such as planting trees for construction, fuel, and food along the paths adjoining their fields. Then I saw that others were building living fences with bushes, and shrubs both for field protection and for animal food. Shizam!
Why not plant trees all the way out of the villages and intercropping trees for food, fuel, construction and firewood as well as field protection!!!
So to achieve this I am going to have to pool a lot of resources together and find some funding for building a bigger tree nursery. Recruit farmers and motivated individuals. In a perfect world I would like to plant between 500-1,000 trees for my SEF model, and for the Goat Lane Project (GLP)
I am writing a book
I am currently recruiting some support to write a technical manual for Sahelien Eco Farming for villagers, other Peace Corps programs, and future PC
Seldom is there not a melody popping around some where on my mind. Even before I started playing music, I lived and breathed music. I love studying the history of music, the significance of the songs, and how we can learn from the artist.
After being here for 8-9 months I have finally achieved a major goal and that was to break into the local music scene in
Every group of volunteers in
My last project which will probably take up a lot of my efforts for the rest of my service will be to help establish a seedbank for local farmers to sell their improved seeds regionally to other villages. I have one of the most incredible farmers field schools in
What is my role you ask?
Well I have recently become a recipient from a sizeable donation from the rotary club to purchase around 10 tons of cereals. My idea instead is to potentially invest my pardon the pun but “seed money” to establish the farmer’s seed bank. Aside from my SEF ambitions this is my big project, so if I can help in any way to achieve this ambitious project then I can say “Shakanan” it is finished. I will be coming home happy.
Who would have thought last year I was a long haired bartending college graduate, now I am saving the world.
Damn I love my job.
“It was love at first site….”
The opening phrase to Joseph Heller’s novel Catch 22 perfectly captures how I felt when I picked up the mandolin for the first time. When Captian Yossarian first saw the Chaplin, he understood this person would be the center for his elaborate plans to escape from the military.
When I first played the mandolin something within me said YES!!! Now this makes sense!! At first my playing ability reflected my current state at first my playing was insecure; my fingers fought the demand to reach out and learn how to speak for themselves but as the uncertain skin began to peel off, new abilities emerged and as my fingertips became more confident with the emergence of calluses something unexpected came from underneath. A new ability to speak. I don’t understand my connection to this new thing, I have no plans to move to Nashville and live off the music dream, my only plans are to continue traveling and who knows maybe make a few good stories and friends down the road.
It started because of the journey….
A little more than a year and a half ago I approached a friend of mine named “rich berry” who played the blues regularly at my bar. Since I was leaving for the peace corps and had ample time on my hands it seemed an opportune moment to learn how to play guitar. So I suggested that we should go shopping for a guitar and as they say the rest his history.
Unexpectedly when we walked into the store Rich stopped at the door and the following conversation occurred;
“You know Josh, I don’t think you want to learn how to play the guitar”
“Nah” “I was thinking about his last night, and the guitar seems all wrong for you”
“Think about it, your always camping, canoeing, hiking, biking, hell moving to
“What like a Ukulele?”
“NO Man!! the Mandolin.”
“What the hell is that?”
So we started shopping and found a good starter mandolin, case, tuner, and strings so we pulled on the managers heart strings and wooed him with my future trip to Africa, as a result he reduced the prices on everything and then we walked out with about $400 worth of musical equipment for less than a hundred bucks.
A few days afterwards my big “greecy” friend Akis had his annual orthodox-Easter celebration which means eating incredible greek food…ah the roasted lamb, ah the good times. And guess who showed up for her first party…Mandolin Albright, the name of my first mandolin.
Another gentleman came with his guitar so around the camp fire we played, and even though it was the worst campfire performance of all time. Making music with my drums, harmonicas, and badly tuned mandolin was a pretty darn cool thing to do. Sure it really was a buzz kill on the party but it was my first camp fire playing my own mandolin, of course the music sucked, but man I was hooked. A big freak’n van, some guitars, and a dog that yodeled
A big freak’n van, some guitars, and a dog that yodeled
It was weeks after purchasing my mandolin that I met and made a super talented and generous new friend by the name of Bruce Goldish. It was summertime when he came breezing through town and I was blessed to listen to some of the greatest guitar music I have ever had the pleasure to listen to. Bruce played at my restaurant for a couple of nights, he taught me so much not only about how to play music, but how to create unique music. Bruce has an incredible attachment to his music due to the fact that his songs and style are a direct result of his life and his journey’s all over this fantastic planet. When we met at my restaurant he was in the middle of a 10,000 mile magic carpet ride. His magic carpet was in the form of a 1980’s huge ass econoline grey van with plush seats, and limo lights lining the roof. The only passengers were his guitars and a loyal African dog that yodeled on command.
I didn’t understand then my attachment to the mandolin, it was just something I couldn’t put down, I never thought it was going to be part of my journey. Bruce has been around, his music reflects his own course through life in awe it is a foundation of my playing style to learn from him.
I needed to learn how to become an individual through the mandolin, damn if he wasn’t the best suited to teach me this. A portion of my decision to take my end of service trip to Europe is to play music where ever I can there, see what I can do, and try to squeak out a small allowance from the streets.
It shouldn’t be too hard, I only make seven bucks a day now.
“Home is where I am and the company that I keep”
I would say they just don’t write lyrics like that anymore, but they do.
His link is on the bottom.
The other link, Josh Cotter illustrations, is another talented friend who was with me a couple of those nights kicking it with Bruce.
In a few short months after my purchase I improved greatly due to meeting Bruce, he instilled a passion into his art and damn if it wasn’t contagious. Ever since our meeting when I start learning a new song a little voice goes off in my head saying “how would Bruce play it?”
At first I could barely tune the mando let alone play anything but it didn’t stop me from trying harder, it never occurred to me that I would be capable of playing music, but yet there I was hammering the mando, losing finger flesh day in and out. Always the same tunes, night and day, before work, after work, the park, my bed, anywhere, the case was a wasted purchase, my mandolin never saw it.
I played once all the way across
Climbed a mountain, mando was there, canoed with my dog for week, guess who else came. mandolin. Chopsticks and Flatpicks
Chopsticks and Flatpicks
Most the way through college I worked at a fantastic restaurant and bar called “the Jazz”. They let me come and go as I pleased and was a great job to have. A perk of the job was that it heavily supports local music so as a result I was privy to some really great music and was befriended and tutored from a diverse assortment of unique individuals. Eventually towards the end I even started hiring out gigs to a pair of friends of mine.
Andrew and Rob.
Andrew is a unique story all on his own. Andrew is from
Rob is a life long musician and has been teaching music nearly as long as he’s been playing it and after years of hard work his fiddling and comprehension of music is second to none. Though his constant fixation on achieving the perfect sound could be a little challenging when trying to manage a restaurant, when he gets it right gets warmed up well its just how traditional music should be played.
Watching a tall Chinese kid wielding a guitar and a white guy in overalls pulling some soul out of his fiddle or guitar it’s a beautiful thing to watch. I have never in all the years seen my restaurant completely captivated by the musicians. Its true bluegrass/traditional music is an acquired taste and it usually seems completely foreign to the masses, but once someone sits down and starts listening to it all its familiarity comes back.
By incorporating my love of history with my playing mandolin its given me a whole other perspective of American History. It’s the songs like “John Hardy”, “you are my sunshine”, and songs woody Guthrie belted out after pointing his feet towards the road proclaiming “this land is your land”. Man this is incredibly moving music. These songs have been passed down from generation to generation and to me they speak of an
On Sundays Andrew and I played in an old 19th century single room school house with local musicians. Every Sunday they spend hours dedicated to playing ole’ time classics, not to mention occasionally they had square dances. The roots of traditional music were calling to me, I have loved music all my life, why did this form of music fly under my radar for so long?
Who would have thought a kid like Andrew would come from
How can one not be inspired to play with someone like Andrew?
From these performances of “Chopsticks and Flatpicks” as I so warmly named them we started having all kinds of people coming out of the woodwork to listen to the music. Which brings me to my next inspiration for playing mandolin.
“Ole’ Blue Eyes”
No, not Senatra, Barty Crawford. Barty is a 71 year old blind since birth mandolin player with radiant blue eyes who is now living out his twilight years in a retirement home in
When time permitted I would go and visit Barty in his retirement home and we would spend a couple of hours talking music and playing some incredible old tunes on the mandolins. Some days Barty was dead on and would hammer out some amazing music, others he could be a little absent, but each time man I was given such a gift to sit and listen to his tales. Could you imagine playing with a living encyclopedia of the very music your attempting to learn? How could I find a better teacher?
In essence Barty is what I strive for to achieve in my lifetime, who knows one day possibly the friends I speak of playing with could one day be the ones we hold in such esteem today. The musicians I have met and played with in
When I first arrived in
I often comment that I don’t have a clue what I am doing most of the time or where my things are, but the mandolin, I always know where he is. If “mishka” isn’t strapped to my back or in my lap you can be rest assured he’s not far from me or my thoughts. During training the only way I could pass the down time, or evade the gossip circles, was to play, play, and play.
During training I greatly improved and developed quite a repertoire of songs. After training we were told for the first two months at post do nothing. Not one to violate orders, especially good ones, I spent my entire two months at post doing little more than sweating profusely and playing. Eventually prior to our returning to
Naming ceremonies. These ceremonies are commonly held for nearly every child born in
So we did this for my friend Alisa’s little coven of kittens, we invited the village to attend we provided food and then we all sat on the mats as the names of each kitten was presented to the village.
Then it happened…
The villagers saw my mandolin and Lachlan’s guitar and asked us to play for them so obliging their wishes I sat on the mat, tuned up, and then started playing the ole time fiddle tunes I had been playing forwards and backwards for the last ½ year. And you know what ….they didn’t like the music.
So to myself I said “ah !@$# it” I stood up put my fingers on the G chord and belted out the loudest most energetic sound I had ever produced. I stopped looked at my pick and said “WHOAH!” then I looked around dazed, and saw that the villagers responded, then I tried again, this time only I started hammering out a G, C, then D. The villagers got up, kids, women, old people where dancing and singing, two hours passed the party never stopped a beat though we moved all over the village. I finally learned what it meant to make some music from the soul, not just something rehearsed and regurgitated. I was making music with some spirit, my body turned numb, my hands went from clammy to dry, the nervousness waned and something within me just came out and kept coming and coming.
If you look at the first picture of my blog with me playing mandolin with the villagers in the background looking on, this was the moment I got up and had this monumental occasion.
Once I hit the tarmac with the mandolin in tow something just felt right. Something incredible within keeps emerging. And it just keeps getting better. My fingers now speak a new language that expresses any range of my emotional states much more accurately than any written or spoken word could suggest. What they say now is that a confident, seasoned, and more capable man now most aptly understands that truly the journey defines the experience not the destination.
My fingers now speak a new language that expresses any range of my emotional states much more accurately than any written or spoken word could suggest. What they say now is that a confident, seasoned, and more capable man now most aptly understands that truly the journey defines the experience not the destination.
It can also be proven that a steady diet of bob Marley is indeed good for the health and can overall improve the respect one has for fellow man and our connection to the planet and the spirits.
Lastly it can be proven now that a white kid from northern
Prior to coming here I started playing mandolin; not knowing that I had any particular talent for making music my enthusiasm usually was enough to carry me through all the hump days. Though I have had only maybe 2 real lessons a lot of hours have been dedicated to learning how to speak through my fingers and so far playing music has taken on some pretty amazing adventures.
It has taken me 9 months to get the opportunity just to play with Nigeriens, and then when it happened ka-blam! I hit the mother load. National TV, Famous musicians, Reggae, traditional music, and all kinds of other things came together as well on this trip to
When I decided to join the Peace Corps I never thought for a minute that learning how to play the mandolin would be one of the hallmarks of my service. It was something I took up to pass the day and learn something new. I never thought that I would be mixing it up in
You know music really is a wonderful medium we use to connect to each other. Back in the states I started playing bluegrass mandolin because a friend of mine from
Have I mentioned that this weekend was also the 10th anniversary marking my High School Graduation? I know we all want to attend our reunions and say hey look at me blah, blah, blah, so for the last month I have been racking my brain trying to put into a letter what I could say about the last 10 years of my life. The Army, traveling, the amazing array experiences acquired from living, working, and loving wastefully. Man its tough.
Today I would just simply write, sorry can’t attend I am kicking it like a ninja playing reggae in
Afterwards the boys and I sat on a bench listened to our recording, made videos, pictures and shared all kinds of things while focusing on creating something instead of setting our minds on tearing down.
It's just a beautiful way to live.
I would assume that when the great ones came to us with incredible messages and deliver their insights they have to think man is this always falling on deaf ears? Is anyone going to actually understand what I am saying? Are the ones who are left behind going to actually understand the message before the mass production of T-Shirts and God-o-plexes start cropping up? Days like yesterday make me think that when folks like Jesus or Bob Marley look down from the heavens and look at what some of us are doing they say. Yeah, alright! Some of them got the point. As of this week I have been nationally broadcast on television playing music with some of
As of this week I have been nationally broadcast on television playing music with some of
And I thought impressing the ladies only with saying I worked in
Man. Its hard to believe the Peace Corps only pays me $7 bones a day to do this.
Yes you read it correctly. I am coming home for the holidays (insha allah) “if god wills it” as my lovely Nigeriens would say…..well for pretty much everything.
Well there are many reasons for my change in heart and decision to come home instead of doing something like for example vacationing in
1st Family and Friends
The decision to join the Peace Corps is never taken lightly it means making some very difficult decisions and living with that decision for two years as life continues to go on in our absence. In our absence our families grow, people we care for pass away, relationships change, who knows, old flames start new lives, even my dog misses me. But as in all cases life doesn’t stop just because we are no longer living with those we know, my dream was to make decisions towards realizing my dreams. As a result it emotionally deflated a lot of things from me; imagine cutting the best thing out of your life and trying to be happy about it. I tried, couldn’t do it, and in the end the decision was the right one, but it took a lot of nights to convince myself that everything would be alright. Dreams are meant to be pursued and it’s either go after them or spend the rest of my life only dreaming.
Don’t think I am homesick. But….
If it wasn’t for the terrific support from my incredible friends then I never could have made it here. I am coming home to pay you in the only respect I can at this moment and that’s to let you see me getting to the top of my game. J Really I love you guys, ah the cast of characters. Damn I love you guys.
Concerning the craziest folks west of the mighty
Your support and love equaled the efforts of such magnanimous friends. Possibly if I was serving a few years prior as a younger man then I most likely would not be coming home. My youthful vigor and determination keep on wandering would be to difficult to avoid. My choice would have been
Prior to coming here I caught a lot of flak from individuals concerned about my decision to move to Africa, although very sharp criticisms hailed from all corners of argument, it was for good reasons. Since my departure a lot of the criticism has morphed into encouragement and support due to their fears waning and a better sense of understanding surfacing about the world. Many of us are introduced to the world as a perilous maze of tiger traps, and evil lurking at every corner. The reality is that there is a lot of bad in the world, but on the whole our world is quite beautiful and its filled with amazing people, and it just wouldn’t be right if some of us didn’t brave the elements and face the challenges. So now it seems appropriate to bring home some of my journey to know that your love for your volunteer is not misguided. In fact my decision to come here is largely your fault. Really.
You never realize how much you reflect the best of what the people instill in you until one day something clicks and you understand that all the things you love in life is because someone spent time with you during your childhood doing things like reading, telling bed time stories, teaching, gardening, horseback riding, fishing, riding bikes etc. etc. These are only a few examples but damn if they weren’t elemental in my preparation for this place and I think its past time to come home and pay homage to the incredible people who impacted my development so much.
So I am coming home to my family and you all each have some really BIG hugs coming your way.
Honestly I am not really home sick but its just important for me to come home eat some mashed potatoes, friend chicken, corn and gravy, I have lost I don’t know a 1/3 of my body weight. FEED ME!!!!!!!
Anyways take my advice, though it’s painful to roam away from everything familiar; if you want to live fully and understand the world and yourself better. Leave everything you know behind, live fully, love wastefully, and strive towards what you most intimately want. Its tough, but in the end we always come home.
Now I am not going get to much in detail about the story about how I came to playing the mandolin because its going to be a blog entry soon, but its something very important to me. Ultimately it was the primary catalyst that finalized my decision to come home, I don’t know how to describe it, but something about the mandolin has really started a fire within me and I like to share it with others. Learning to play the mandolin has been a life altering experience and I kept a lot of good people awake at night playing bad music. So I am coming home to keep these people up once again but this time the music is louder and hopefully much better.
Anyone up for another reunion show at my house….How about a Dan Saga Benefit concert? ;P
Without the commitment to make the journey to realize your dreams there is no destination, take the journey.
3rd Future Plans
Hot season is brutal. Other than spending my time sweating, the only thing I was capable of doing while panting in fierce convulsions like a dog was to look at my world atlas and daydream. What emerged was a potential trip spanning from
The other side of the fun is that I need to tend to business, fortunately in my line of life work and life work pretty congruously so having plenty of time to think I have reduced my post Peace Corps to three options
1. Teach, I love it. Always planned on doing it, but I feared becoming someone responsible for teaching others about the world but never seeing it for myself. So I have failed miserably convincing my family that all my traveling excursions were purely for professional and personal development, but you have to admit, it hasn’t hurt anything has it. Tax deductible business expense?
June, July, August. The real reasons to teach.
2. International Development. Studying in
Hey I am just trying to figure out what’s next?
3. Academics. Very appealing. For those who know me best it is probably the biggest surprise since I have always hated school but loved learning. Its one thing to be forced to sit in a class and learn what someone wants me to learn, but when I get to dictate what I want to learn and get paid for it…FORGETTABOUTIT!!! I’m in. But there’s a snag. Test. I hate freaking test!!! My last semester in college I started vomiting from nervousness during a math exam, kind of freak’d out the professor and I bombed the test anyways. Which means the GRE will probably suggest being admitted into a psych’ward afterwards. Its partially the reason why I chose Peace Corps over graduate school, I have enough things on my resume’ to suggest being capable. But test aaargh!!!
Okay well that’s about all I have the energy to put into a few of the many reasons to come home. I can’t believe my trip will be in only 3 ½ months. Can you believe January will mark my one year anniversary of living in
I can’t believe how fast time has flown here.
Well guys there are a million other reasons I could go into why I am visiting home but you all get the gist of it. So be ready, have the instruments tuned, the conversation ready for full engagement, and the stock of quality pale ale’s piled high.
Lastly it has reached my attention that there are a lot of people following my adventures and it inspires me to hear how much support has been given from home. Life in
…………Its about how we learn about the world through interaction and observation, it is about how our two very different societies understand nature and value its resources. Also it speaks for how important it is to incorporate a little nature in our life for our own personal development.
While reading the article my mind drifted in and out of how we educate our youth about nature through recreation, classes, or whatever but in
In Jared Diamond’s critically acclaimed work “Guns, Germs, and Steel” he argues that individuals from the developing world who in my terms “live as a part of nature” instead of those “apart from it” are in fact more aware of their environment and generally better adjusted and integrated in their communities. He suggests the better adjustment is due the lack of distractive items such as televisions, video games, toys etc, etc. While our kids are secluding themselves from society and reducing their learning capacity the kids from the other camp are integrating, working, and learning in a real environment to be future citizens.
Mr. Diamond then broadens his arguments by suggesting that those who “live as a part of nature” are in fact more intelligent than those who “live apart from it” due to the constant stimulus provided by direct contact with their environment and the total integration and interaction as responsible citizens within their society.
It is easy to argue with due merit that the ample list of achievements from the western civilizations is noted, but… After being here for approaching a year I see that his argument does have merit the bulk of the developing world are intelligent, just uneducated.
Concerning our own education….
Being from the “apart from nature” society what as a whole do we really understand about how the natural world operates? Or really know for that matter? What is the impact of alienating ourselves from nature? What are our perceptions and value of nature in comparison? How can I integrate what has been learned in
Rainy season is rapidly approaching its conclusion and soon we will be harvesting our crops and storing away all of our food for the coming year. As life transitions to the changing seasons I am starting to understand what it means to center my life on living as a part of nature. With certainly the next couple of months will be spent saying to myself in the mirror “what the hell just happened to me” but after this growing season concludes and the build up to the next growing season sets in I have to be honest with myself. What have I really taught them? I have definitely learned more from my hosts then I could ever teach them.
Again, what I have learned about nature is largely from not being in it constantly, they are.
My first rainy season in the land of the “a part of’s” has meant spending my days in the Sahelian outdoor classroom. On most occasions when I am not out wandering on my own, my teachers are children who spend countless time with me in the bush. I am constantly amazed with their deft ability at identifying each and every plant, animal, insect and tree by name then describing its edibility, usefulness, or in many cases traditional medicinal value. On the opposiste spectrum I think wow, our “apart from nature” kids can in the same detail describe every aspect of a pop icons wardrobe or lifestyle or how to pass a level on a neat-O video game. But ultimately what does this teach us about our wonderful world?
Consider the comparison of our cultures of how these contrasting lifestyles relate to one another, one civilization that survives off of the connection to the earth, or the other that in large only cares about what we can take from it. How would this impact our intimacy and need to understanding and appreciating nature. As a result of their lifestyle the children spend everyday in the bush foraging for food, working the fields, or playing games in the shade of any host of trees. Why and when do our kids in
Are you asking yourself now as I was; how was your childhood spent? What do you understand about nature’s circle of life? Can you even describe what exist in your backyard? Consider all the time you have spent in nature as a kid and consider the typical child’s experiences in nature today. Perhaps you could probably half that and it might accurately portray the typical child’s interaction. I have friends with kids and the kids always ask me to take them camping, the interests is always there, maybe just not the nature. But who knows, I don’t have kids of my own.
Sure in the “apart from” camp we have the scouts, after school nature programs, youth nature outreach etc. etc. Where I currently reside the children live in it and are using their imaginations constantly not to mention being challenged by their environment constantly, what kind of character do you think this develops. The sense of responsibility?
How does enjoying nature or living from it directly correlates with personal development?
The article from the Missouri Conservationist borrows the phrase “Nature-Deficit Disorder” from Richard Louv’s book Last Child in the Wood: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder. It states:
“Children need nature for the healthy development of their senses, and, therefore, for learning and creativity”
It’s a different environment and culture but where I come from there are a lot of similarities to the Nigerien childhood. In fact just being here has made me appreciate so much more my incredible youth and how much in common my childhood in
It's part of our nature as humans to want to enjoy a sunset, a path whatever…Whether we know it or not we all want a little nature in our lives? Lunch break in the park? We all understand the connection is important; it just takes getting out and doing it. Do you share these types of memories? Do you find the value of taking time to commune with nature? Good, then turn off the tube and take a kid out to nature, doesn’t even have to be your own. Just get permission first; child abduction is not too cool.
It would not take much effort to suggest that despite the failing test scores (blah!) we do receive great educations but is it enough? I love quotes and try to live by the good ones so when Mark Twain famously said “Don’t let your schooling interfere with your education” it all made sense. It gave me a reason to skip class, bomb a test, or hop in my car and drive to Colorado to become a white water raft guide on a couple days notice? Sure my grades were pretty bad and the “not filling his potential” speeches were delivered like clockwork, but damn if I wasn’t out challenges myself and isn’t that what its all about? Why not concentrate on integrating the best of how we educate and putting it in direct connection to the world. If that means letting our kids get a little dirty and allow them to make mistakes on their own and learn for themselves, well would that be such a bad thing? And it doesn’t stop with only nature clubs does it?
In the typical villages of
Unfortunately there is a down side to this type of informal education because the education system is quite contrary to the learning style of the Nigerien culture. To move through the education system in
The deficit of properly prepared youth for the real world isn’t just a Nigerien or United States problem and I think Harold Howe II an educator from Harvard accurately states that disenfranchisement of students often stems from the style of education provided.
“We suggest you sit quietly, behave yourselves, and study in the schools we provide as a holding pen until we are ready to accept you into the adult world”
Does it come to any surprise then when our children do not live up to our expectations? How can they become “our future citizens” when we cut them loose to fend for themselves without any real skills for the world? To paraphrase W.E.B. Dubois “Responsibility teaches Responsibility” how can we blame ourselves, others, and our youth for irresponsibility and the destruction of the environment when we ourselves never learned anything about it.
When it comes to learning about the world we all have an interest in the exotic species and environments but what do we know about the local? Unfortunately our education pertaining to nature is not hands-on learning. We have the national geographic channel, travel channel, PBS, and the late beloved Steve Irwin to thank for living out our adventurous sides as well as our ability to identify species. But what do we know about the world around us? Supporting this idea the Missouri Conservationist article suggest that often during a nature class dedicated to snakes children consistently can describe and identify cobra’s, boa’s pythons, etc, but when it comes to identify a local species most are clueless. Sound like you? Does this metaphorically apply else where?
The desire and interest to learn about our world is prevalent at our youngest ages. We can’t help it; this desire is the very best of our nature. Our need to explore and learn about our world needs to be reinforced but we don’t always cradle these desires. Academically, funding for geography is constantly undermined and we seem to shut off ourselves and our minds from anything else in the world.
Did you know about
It seems to me that when this disconnect emerges I think many of our societal problems surface. Everything is interconnected in the world, Humanity has been gifted with an incredibly inquisitive mind and ability to socialize so why waste it? Is this making sense or is it too far of a reach? Why is our country so reticent to learn about other cultures and environments? Or do we fail in our attempts to expand on our interests in nature due to the lack of it?
These are only my random thoughts and observations from my wanderings but as I can’t help but think about when I show pictures of home to my villagers they pick apart every detail and ask what kind of tree is that? What is kind of animal are you skinning? What kind of seeds do you plant in your garden? These are not questions that stem from simple minds; they are very intelligent observant individuals that understand quite acutely their surroundings. In my short time here the Nigerien’s have taught me so much more about their natural world and how they live in it. So when I respond “white tail deer”, “pheasant”, “catfish”, “sweet corn”, “oak”, “elm” etc, I can’t help but think of what it’s going to be like when I return home and show people pictures of Niger. What will be their questions? Do they safari? Was it dangerous? Do they walk around naked? What do they do without TV?....AAAARGGH are you kidding me?
Don’t waste your guilt or money by listening to the “oh those poor kids” late night infomercials or any other array of organizations portraying the “oh so sad” children of
If you want to donate money make sure it goes to an education but use half of that money for your own. Travel!!! Or read for god’s sake.
I had to rant, sorry.