5 O’Clock Blues

Jump to Comments

When 5pm rolls around, so do a plethora of mixed feelings.  It’s time to drop whatever I’m doing at home (doing laundry in a bucket, raking my sand, etc) and change my clothes, put on some extra deodorant, and lock up my house.   A long walk to the junior high (which is located at the other end of my village) is filled with many greetings:  “Ina wuni?” (How is the afternoon?).  “Ina zahi?” (How is the heat?),  and “Ina aiki?” (how is the work?).  On the way I pass one of the 5 primary schools in my village and at any given time 20-30 children just hanging around the school yard feel compelled to yell “MALIKA!!!” (my Nigerien name) as if I weren’t walking a few feet away from them.  Just a block farther is the corner where  a handful of women sell kayan mia (sauce ingredients) all nicely lined in a row in front of the pounding machine.  A few small children toddle about until they see me coming and immediately start to shout “ANASARIA!” (white girl).  This is an endearing little term that they learned most likely from their parents and scream incessantly until I walk completely out of sight.  Sometimes if they have enough kokari (effort) they even follow me to the next corner meanwhile giggling and whispering to one another. 

Next comes the seasonal lake, which during rainy season and cold season is used to make mud bricks, and which during hot season becomes the free-for-all pooing ground for the children in the neighborhood.  There is probably no need to describe the distinct scent that wafts about during this section of my trek.  The sandy, garbage-filled, poo-ridden path leads to the end of the clearing where, almost without fail, I am nearly trampled by a flock of sheep and goats who are being pushed about by an 8-year-old with a sizeable stick.  Sandy, an unseemingly vicious dog (that I’ve named after the dog is Annie which he resembles), is, I am convinced, a racist dog that greets white people (or me, the only white person in a 10 mile radius) with snarls and barks until the nice people on the corner chuckle and chase him away with a stick. I think Sandy waits for me.  The white girl passing by is, hands down, the most exciting part of his day (the same is true for most of the old men and little children I pass as well).

The rest of the walk is pretty uneventful, save dodging reckless bush taxis on the main road.  By the time I arrive at the school a sea of teenagers sporting maroon button-up shirts and khaki colored pants or pagnes (wrap-around-skirts) await me.  A few “bonsoir-s” (good afternoons) accompany me through the deep sand to the clearing know as the soccer field.  The girls chat by the sideline under the nim trees and patiently wait for the PE teacher to finish testing his students (most recently with track and field activities, like jumping over a pole).   The girls un-wrap their skirts to reveal shorts or pants underneath and retie their head wraps. 

Soccer practice always begins with a 10 minute run around the outside of the sandy field.  After a few technical drills we spend the rest of the daylight playing a scrimmage of offense versus defense.  The practice is a bit more lax than most Americans would tolerate (we frequently continue playing after the ball has gone in to touch, or you might see a few girls collapsed with laughter on the field because one of their teammates tried to kick the ball and completely missed).  Despite the seeming lack of structure and productivity, girls scrimmage is by far my favorite part of the whole day.  When I’m on the field playing with the girls we have to chance to connect in a different way.  Minimal language skills are needed (all I need to know how to say is “back”, “I’m here”, “Give it to Absatou”, or “Shoot!).  I love the high fives we give each other when I steal the ball from a player on the other team, or when someone dribbles the ball right past me.  It’s like they know a different side of me when we are on the field, and I get to see a different side of them too. 

For these girls, it’s their chance to prove that they can do more than just household chores.  It’s their chance to prove that they are smart, gifted, hard-working girls who are ready to change their community.  For those of you back home, it might seem quite normal to have a girls sports team, but In Niger extra-curricular activities are close to non-existent, and even more so, girls activities have only begun in the past few years.   Girls here have to fight for their rights (for example: going to school rather than being married off by your parents at age 13).  Girls’ soccer might seem insignificant, but it’s a huge step in the world of each girl who participates.  The positive outcomes are endless, from being encouraged to stay in school to raised self-esteem. 

A few of the education volunteers and I have been working on the 4^th annual regional girls tournament in Zinder.  Prelims will take place in my village on March 7^th, and finals with all 5 teams will take place in Zinderville on March 14^th.  An AIDS awareness component will be included as a portion of the tournament is a skit/song contest between each team.  My girls have been practicing for over two months now, and I might add that we are favored to win the soccer portion of the tournament ; )

Stay tuned for pictures from both weekends!

4 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized