Swear-In

So today, in a few hours, I will swear-in on national television to become an official Peace Corps volunteer. I will take an oath in French and in English, and promise, side by side with my fellow trainees, to the American Ambassador and the Nigerien government that we will commit two years of service to Niger.

Right now I am sitting at Amandine's, the let's-pretend-we're-not-in-the-third-world cafe with wireless, thinking about why I'm here and about home, and about a million other things. I have come to realize that I don't think there is any real way to prepare for something like moving alone to a rural sub-Saharan farming village for 2 years. So next week feels, in its own way, like jumping off some sort of imaginary cliff. But I guess a big part of me is as ready for the jump as I can be. There is a tiny piece of me screaming, turn around! go home! drink a cold beverage out of a refrigerator! get your clothes cleaned in a real washing machine! But the rest of me is getting butterflies in my stomach at the idea of reading books alone at sunset looking out over the grasslands of my new backyard; about putting my hands into the dirt of my own garden and making things grow in the sahel; about decorating my new mud hut, and sitting and talking with my neighbors in Zarma, holding their babies and playing with their kids. There are four kittens waiting for me in my new home, and here, things like kittens are really good at making hard days less hard.

Among all the other thoughts bumping around in my head, one of the more prominent ones is the fact the training is ending tomorrow. The 25 other trainees with whom I've shared these past two months will be posted to sites scattered across the country. Those of my friends who are going far to the east...I'll only see once or twice a year. It's a strange feeling to have built up a community like this that will be so quickly dispersed. I suppose, right now, the first segment of this experience is coming to a close. I have no way of knowing how I will feel in the next few months. Actually, we have packets and packets of information given to us with some frequency on how we might and probably will feel in our first 3 months of service, but those suggestions aside I am at a bit of a loss for what to expect.

To pull back from getting too lost in my own head... feelings, anxiety, etc. I will say this about my week: On Wednesday morning I moved out of Beeri Kwara. I said goodbye to my host family. Tabaski (Cimsi in Zarma), the holiday where God asks Abraham to sacrifice his son, was Monday and Tuesday. I watched countless white rams held down on the ground, their necks positioned in front of a shallow hole in the dirt, their throats slit open by the men of the village, and their blood collected in the pits on the ground.



Beeri Kwara was filled with shallow holes of blood as we all sang and danced and feasted on the luxury of meat. The children would say "kay yesi" to us, and we would respond "yesi mansancine" and give them a treat, some candy or a little money. It is sort of like Christmas here. Everyone is in holiday spirits.

So I better go and find an outfit to wear for the ceremony. There is a fake Christmas tree decorated and blinking its lights in the middle of the restaurant. I might have to eat one of the chocolate pastries that look so good in the glass display case before I go. Two of my friends just arrived, and I'm no longer in the zone to write. Lots of love to everyone. I am still (as I imagine I always will be) missing you everyday. If you get Nigerien TV, be sure to tune in tonight. xo