Niger Bound

I made it to Paris today, after taking the red-eye from Tana.  Even after being sequestered in my airport hotel room, I don’t feel the awed being back in the West.  I suppose Madagascar is developed enough, at least in the cities, that most of the creature comforts we take for granted in the U.S. are sufficiently satisfied.  I have enjoyed the high-speed internet, a luxury that hasn’t quite made it Fianar yet.

Yesterday, in Tana, I ran the Hash for the first time in Madagascar.  It was the first event of the season, and there were a few other first-timers.  Out of about 30 participants, only a handful of us ran the course, and I surprised myself by winning—something I never could have dreamed of doing in Niamey.  There has been some talk of restarting a regional Hash in Fianar, and maybe that is something I could be a part of when I get back.  There’s no shortage of possible routes around Fianar, that’s for sure.  Last fall, back in Niger, I ran the Hash with Dave and some other friends, and at some point I ended up on the organizer’s email list.  Since last January I have emailed this guy repeatedly asking him to take my name off his list.  Then, before leaving Fianar, Kristen pointed out that now it’s good thing that I’m still on the list, since I’m going back to Niger.

Of course it was hard saying goodbye to Kristen Saturday morning.  During the ten hours it took to travel the 400 kilometers from Fianar to Tana by bush taxi, I had ample opportunity to think about what I am doing and the consequences.   When I wasn’t worrying about my immediate condition (the bush taxi, oncoming traffic, the nauseated woman puking into a bag seated next to me, etc.), I though about what leaving means to Kristen and me; to my integration into the Fianar community and the networking I had done for work. But mostly I thought about what my going to Niger might realistically accomplish.  It’s a very far distance and not without expense, this trip, and I want to feel when it’s over that it was worth the expense, both emotionally and financially.  Despite these small nagging doubts, I do remain excited and hopeful.  In fact, on a personal/professional note, after feeling like Fianar and Madagascar have turned out not to hold kind of opportunities for me that we originally believed they would, this is just the thing I need to put a nice cap on my 2005.

So, tomorrow morning I’m off.  I think some of my edginess will dull when I set foot in that familiar terminal, and my senses fill with the familiarity of West Africans (mostly) in various states of talking, sleeping, debating, and, above all, laughing.  It’ll be homecoming of sorts, I suppose.

Check back in the coming weeks and months to see how things progress.