Kantchari--Niamey,
Niger, Thursday, December 23, 1982
(DAN) Everybody started stirring at 05:00 because the people who had
slept outside started banging on the bus doors. They were wanting their water
containers to wash for prayer. The
border does not open until 08:00, so we had a little time to check out our
surroundings. Most of the traffic on the
road is between Niamey and Togo, so there were about 12 semi-trailer trucks,
ostensibly from the port in Lome spending the night, as well. We also met many similar trucks, completely
empty, going toward Lome. Justin says that it is shorter to through Benin, but
is just too costly due to all the bribing necessary, The trucks return empty
from Niamey because (allegedly) Niger’s only export is uranium and it is flown
out.
Waiting for the flag to be raised at the Haute Volta – Niger border |
We actually started across the border soon after 8:00, but we were
delayed over an hour because an official spotted a bag full of hats on top of
the bus. He never did get up to look at it, but he detained us all the
same. Some money must have changed hands
because we eventually moved on to the next Haute Volta border check which was
for the passengers.
There was quite a distance between the two border checks. They are
paving a road, so there were a lot of detours. We pulled into the Niger border
post about 11:00, and right away things did not look good. The two vehicles
ahead of us had disgorged all their passengers and baggage, and they were all
lined up in the sun getting inspected by a group of soldiers. We weren’t allowed off the bus at first, and
then they made us line up without any of our bags, not even our money-camera
bag. Then they separated out the “whites”
and took us to a shed to fill out papers.
We were able to secure our valuable bag because it had our bics (ballpoint pins for the paperwork). Then they made us unload our bags, line up,
and three or four soldiers went through them. They were thorough in that they
went through and messed up everybody’s already bulging bags. We were further delayed because the soldiers were
charging 2000 CFA/black person, and the people were trying to get by with
smaller bribes. They never really threatened any white person.
We finally pulled out of there at 13:30, but about 20 km down the road,
we had to stop again, this time for “customs.” We found out that 12 of the
Niger men were traveling together and did not have the right papers, so at each
stop they had to negotiate a bribe.
Our sixth and last stop was about 20 km out of Niamey. It was the military again, and they once more
had everybody unload all their bags and went through them. That took another 90 minutes. At the same
post there were two Land Rovers piled high with firewood, and while we watched,
they had to unload it completely for the soldiers, then load it back up,
leaving some of course for the soldiers. Where do the soldiers get their right
to take, take, take!
Our route across southern Niger in yellow (Map from Nations Online
Project).
|
We finally crossed over the Niger river about 17:30, so 9.5 hrs to cover
120 km from the border! To make the day complete, as we pulled into town, the
driver happened to hesitate at an intersection, and a policeman motioned for
him to pull over. We pulled over, but the policeman paid no attention to us,
and since we hadn’t done anything wrong, we started off again. At the second
intersection, the policeman caught up with us on his motorcycle and pulled us
over in a storm of righteous fury. When
the driver handed him the folder of vehicle papers, the brass simply took the
driver’s license and roared off on his motorcycle again. The driver could not
risk driving anywhere without a license, so he sent a young man after the
policeman with a couple of thousand CFA’s.
More than an hour later the young man came trotting up with the license,
and off we went[1].
We had had the foresight to have our bags put at the back so that when
we went through town, we got off near our potential hotel instead of going way
out of town to the ever-distant gare.
Geoff[2] suggested the Hotel
Domino, and Justin was headed in that direction, so we went together. It turned
out to be full. I tried another hotel
about a km away, the closest, but it was closed. In the meantime a truck had
arrived from Agadez in the interior of
Niger with a Swiss couple, an English woman and a US woman. The Domino, which was more a bar than
anything else, finally offered to let us bed down on the floor of the bar, but
it did not close till after 23:30, so we sat around talking till then. We also got to watch the first open drinking
of the trip since Spain. They were
really going at it, including Justin who claimed to have made a business deal
over some car.
Niamey, Niger, Friday, 24 December, 1982
(HELENA) Our main purpose for the day was to see if Maureen had gotten
to Niamey for our Christmas reunion, so we set off first for the post office to
see if there was a message at Poste
Restante. Nothing, so we set off for
the U. S. Embassy. We went suspecting it
would be closed, but we wanted at least to try. On the way we stopped by the Surete to get officially stamped into
the country. It was a long way out to the embassy, but we got to see a very
beautiful, if ritzy, section of town. Someone offered us a ride when we were
almost within sight of our destination, but we gladly accepted.
We were right; it was closed, but we were allowed to talk to the marine
on duty. He was quite friendly and when he couldn’t find anything from Maureen,
he let us leave a message for her.
Rather disappointing. We walked back to town through a different,
beautifully shaded part of town. (See comment below for explanation about Maureen.)
Our other object was to find a place to stay. We walked a ways to the
“Moustache,” also suggested by Geoff. Full!
While at the post office, I got up my nerve to ask (at Dan’s strong
suggestion) a young English-speaking woman if she knew of a place to stay. She suggested either the Hotel Rival
(we found it to be beyond our means) or the Peace Corps Hostel. We had to do a
bit of asking around to find the landmarks she had given us, but we found it.
The volunteers told us to come on over, so we returned to the “Domino” to get
our stuff.
For several days we’ve been toying with the idea of phoning Mother and
Daddy (collect, naturally) for Christmas. We decided to try this afternoon so
that we could get you at a decent hour.
Dan asked about reversed charges and gave the number. The woman was not
very accommodating, to say the least. First she said that Daddy would not
accept the call. We could not quite
believe that. Then she said the USA would not accept it. Dan tried to get two people to translate for
him, but the woman did not really want to help. I have a feeling that she did
not want any trouble so near to closing time.
So, people, we tried and were disappointed mightily. Oh yes, the second
thing she said was that the Peace Corps would not accept the call. I do not know where she got that; she must
have assumed we were PCVs.
We returned to the “Domino,” picked up our bags and left a note for
Maureen. We spent the evening talking to the different volunteers that came in
and out. There is a big map of Niamey on
the wall here. According to Dan’s calculations, our day’s wanderings added up
to TWENTY-FOUR KM!
Just a mention of some of the people we met at the “Domino,” The Swiss
couple were the “typical” European traveling type, rather sloppy-looking with
clothes bought in their travels. She had
a diamond in her nose, and they were very nice. They slept on the floor of the
restaurant with us. When the mosquitoes got to buzzing around, Dan offered them
the use of one of our Banjul mosquito nets. We all got up and set them up using
chairs. The mosquitoes here must be
larger or are less persistent because we all slept well the rest of the night
without their coming through the meshes of the nets. The couple came down through Algeria and plan
to go somehow to Zambia, Zaire, and Zimbabwe. They are experienced travelers as
they have spent 6 months in a commune in New Zealand and time in
Australia.
Niaimey, Saturday, 25 December,1982
(DAN) Merry Christmas! It was a leisurely day for us, We did not
have the makings for breakfast, so we went out and bought a holiday cafe au lait. We both had a hankering for French toast, so
we set out in search of the ingredients.
Things are much scarcer in Niamey than in Haute Volta. Finally we rounded up eggs, evaporated milk,
margarine, squash, and lemons but could not find bread though it was only
11:00. We had to settle for the half loaf
left over from the Ouagadougou trip. It all turned out very well and was a
pleasant Christmas dinner.
In the afternoon we had the place to ourselves because the Peace Corps Volunteers who are staying here were all at a big party; however, toward evening three PCVs arrived, a couple from Ghana and a woman from Haute Volta, and we spent most of the rest of the day talking with them. We took the couple to our latest “watering hole” for a plate of good old couscous, We even broke down and had meat with it,.
It was interesting to hear about Ghana, as there are a lot of horror
stories and no travelers go there anymore. The economic situation is terrible.
The money is so worthless and the exchange rate so artificially high that every
third pay check for PCVs is paid in CFA in either Togo or Abidjan. The volunteers are allowed to travel out,
pick up the check, and buy all the things they cannot get in Ghana. Public
transportation has all but completely broken down, and the only way PCVs get
around is to go out to police stops and have the police make a vehicle give
them a lift. They can get bread once a month, etc. A different twist is that Joe,
a math teacher, claims that the current strong man, the Hon. Captain Rawlings
is really well-intentioned but has no control over the situation. Ghana was the
first “liberated” black country in Africa and was in the best shape-until the
early ’70’s. Apparently it was a lot better off than Nigeria before oil, so no
telling what kind of mess Nigeria would be in now without the oil. We continue
to hear that Nigeria is a place to avoid--dangerous and prohibitively
expensive. We shall see.
Niamey,
Niger, Sunday, 26 December, 1982
(HELENA) We spent much of the day
trying to read. “Trying” because there was a constant stream of arrivals
that would always have a terribly interesting conversation going. The two
nights we have been here, Dan and I have changed rooms because the place was
filling up.
For supper we went around the corner with Joe and Karen, the volunteers
from Ghana, and had chicken on top of some sort of “tow.” Tonight we’re
to sleep in a room with the two of them. We’ll see how the mosquitoes will
treat us. Our other problem here has been the ceiling fans; they keep the
mosquitoes away, but they are NOISY.
Niamey,
Niger, Monday, 27 December, 1982
(DAN) This was only our second
working day in Niamey. We hit the streets early and headed to the Peace Corps
office. Our most urgent business was with the embassy, but we were not sure if
they were open or not. The hostel does
not have a phone, so we wanted to use the phone at the office to find out
embassy hours. We passed the Centre Culturel Americain, however, so
we called from there instead. Yes, they
were open. We wanted to see if we could
change money at the embassy. The CFA has
been rising rapidly against the dollar, and the embassy always changes at the
highest possible rate. We have been advised to deal on the black market in
Nigeria so as to offset the artificially high exchange rate and price. Since we
were changing a large quantity, we needed a favorable rate. We were very lucky
that on our trek out to the embassy we ran into Roberta, a very nice PCV here who was going out to change money,
so we were able to change through her.
While there we also got accordion-style passport extenders for our
nearly full passports and checked to see if Maureen had been by. She had not.
Walking back into town, we got a lift with an anthropologist on contract
with USAID. We would have liked to talk
further. We went by Peace Corps to pay
our bill, but the proper people were not around. We ate lunch at a Senegalese
restaurant and shared a plate of chebujin
for old times’ sake. Then we headed along the riverside to kill time
during the siesta. As in Dakar, the
neighborhood along the waterfront is not “developed” at all. In the case of Niamey it is a long row of
rural housing among irrigated vegetable gardens. Mommy, never fear that we are not holding to
your absolute in processing raw fruit and vegetables[3]. In Orodara they put their vegetables through
rinsing with plain water, but we still felt as if we were sinning when we ate
them.
We wanted to go through the impressive National Museum but found that it
did not re-open after siesta until 15:30. Next we went to the post office. It, also, was closed until 15:30, so we sat
and waited. While I queued for stamps,
Helena queued for the Poste Restante.
I finished first and decided I would tease Helena about the way she was
standing on her tiptoes carefully watching the woman flip through the letters.
It was a good thing she did because there
was a letter from Mr. Ottemueller for us, and the clerk would have passed over
it if Helena had not spotted it. It was
addressed to “Helena and Dan Robison” and was filed under “H!”
It is a fortunate we got the letter because it has some news that will
take some getting accustomed to. First of all, Mr. Ottemueller (our contact for
volunteering in Nigeria) will not get back from the States until January 21,
three weeks after we are scheduled to arrive.
Secondly, he does not get along with the Nigerian veterinarian in charge
of the entire area. This man has written
letters to the authorities asking that Mr. Ottemueller not be admitted to the
Range Management Scheme. In other words
we shall not be able to do the work we had planned. He says, however, that the Methodist
missionaries in Jos are interested in using us until Mr. 0. gets back and that
he will have other things for us to do. If there is not a good situation, we
may be moving on much sooner than planned.
We went back to the museum-zoo, but the museum part was closed because
it was Monday. The zoo part was discouraging, as are most. One area had about 20 very dry turtles and no
water. The crocodile pond was spotted
with beef liver that had been around long enough to be swollen and discolored. The entire complex is housed on several hills
in downtown Niamey and has about six museum buildings, each larger than the
National Museum in Ouagadougou. An area
with traditional Niger cattle was more interesting.
Niger National Museum and Zoo. Traditional cattle native vegetation. |
We had fried egg sandwiches for supper. The evening passed in a haze of
Peace Corps conversation. One pair of
newcomers who are volunteers in Ghana had just traveled overland from Douala,
Cameroon, over one of the routes we want to take. The news they brought was
good. It is possible, and Nigeria
is not half as bad as it is made out to be.
Niamey, Niger, Tuesday, 28 December, 1982
(HELENA) Today is Mohammed’s
birthday, so everything was closed again. Out of the 5 days we’ve been here, 2
have been holidays and one has been a Sunday.
I must say it has been pretty conducive to reading a lot and listening
to a lot of Peace Corps talk. This
morning we managed to get around early enough to get all of our washing
done. There is a wonderful clothesline,
but things are set up in such a way that you are tacitly expected to have the
guardian wash your clothes. We are still not comfortable with the guardians
that each expatriate house is expected to hire[4]. We washed the clothes
ourselves, somewhat guiltily. We knew we
would soon be gone, so we would not have to feel guilty for long.
We went around the corner for lunch.
We shared a plate of rice with spicy peanut sauce and a plate of yams
with a delicious sauce. We have taken to
using our own silverware, but otherwise we are improper enough to eat out of
the same plate and drink from the same bottle or our water-purifying glass[5].
The evening was spent trying madly to finish whatever book we were
reading, again a difficult task because of all of the interesting
conversations going on around us. Paul
was a rather “interesting- looking” sort with a medium-length braid and a
bandana covering his head. The first
time we saw him, he was wearing some sort of very baggy pants that were
tied at the ankles. He didn’t seem at all friendly at the time, but today he
complimented Dan on his pack additions. He apparently worked a while at a back
pack company and made a pack of his own.
Once again, Mother, your handiwork was much appreciated.
I discovered that he has been here five months. He is in forestry, but
to his disappointment he has been put at a mostly desk job here in
Niamey. His work is funded by the Niger
government, so not a great deal gets done. He is from New Jersey, studied in
Vermont, was in Colorado for a year and thought
the PC was sending him to Nepal. He is disappointed in his location, but he
thinks it is good to send people to a place they know nothing about or of which
they have no preconceptions.
We also talked with Mary who has also been here five months. She lives
and works with another volunteer at the “W” National Park that is 1/2 in Benin,
1/4 in Haute Volta, and 1/4 in Niger.
She has virtually no contact with local people. She studied wildlife in
college so is happy in that she is working in her field. Thus far she has only done some controlled
burning.
We have finished our 2 kilos of Dakar peanut butter, so Dan had the
brilliant idea of making dulce de leche. He bought the condensed milk and we put it on
to boil for 1/2 hour. Obviously neither one of us has had much dulce de leche experience. Sitzel (a
middle—aged volunteer in Ghana who moved to the USA from Norway in the sixties
and is now traveling with a young male volunteer from Ghana, Malcom) advised us
that we should boil it for at least 4 hours. Anyway it was sweet and it was
some sort of milk product. Yesterday we found some good FRESH pasteurized milk,
our first since Las Palmas. Too bad we discovered it right before our
departure!
Niamey
-Maradi, Niger Wed, 29th December, 1982
(DAN) We had been told that
hitchhiking is good in southern Niger, and since the Niamey-Kano route is
supposedly well-traveled, we thought we would try. We did not wait ten minutes when a van with
four young French people pulled up, Yes, they were glad to take us, but they
were headed down to Benin so could only take us as far as Dosso. We piled in
and had our most comfortable hour of our entire trip.
The two men are doing alternate military service in Nigeria teaching
agriculture in “technical schools.” The two women are their girl friends visiting
them on their vacations. They spoke good
English, and we had a constant conversation all 110 km. They had a pretty neat
set-up, tooling around Niger, Benin, Togo and Nigeria in a nice van. Last year they “did” Cameroon. They told us not to try hitching in Nigeria
because of the dangerous drivers. They
were so nice that they drove a couple of km, out of their way to leave us at a
police stop. That was before 11:00 hrs.
By around 16:00 hrs, we decided that we had had beginner’s luck, and
that it had run out. Countless vehicles had passed by, but not the right
one. One “Overland Vehicle” came
through, but the police just waved him through. There were quite a few private, luxury
vehicles driven by “locals,” but there is something forbidding about the plush
Peugeots with immaculately long-robed men at the wheel. We finally got a ride
on the back of a Mercedes Benz tractor trailer carrying rice to Zinder, (still
in Niger).
We thought we were set when about 10 km down the road the driver stopped
“to fix a flat tire” but really to charge us. He first wanted 12,000 CFA or
roughly twice as much as it would have cost us to take a taxi from Niamey to
Maradi. We finally settled on a fare slightly less than what it would have cost
us paying in a truck all the way. So
much for our attempt at hitching!! He
knew he had all the leverage. There we were, out in the middle of the Sahel,
the sun was getting low …
The land we traveled through was very reminiscent of southern
Mauritania, very dry, eroded, scrubby Sahel. As in Mauritania, the population
of both people and animals was incredibly high. There was hardly a moment when
you could not see a good-sized compound any direction you looked. The
population is much higher in fact than in the fertile grassland around Orodara
where we could go 10 km. without seeing a house. In general, the population seemed to increase
the drier it got the farther north we
went between Orodara and Maradi. We speculate that it is much easier to make a
living off of grazing animals even in the Sahel than by tilling the soil in the
Guinea savannah area.
We spent a rather cold night on the back of the truck even though we got
out my sleeping bag. We arrived at the outskirts of Maradi around 04:10. The driver dropped us in the country, a good
distance from town (north side) and seemed so pleased with the whole idea that
he shook my hand three times. Helena and I put our packs on the sand, spread a
rain poncho, covered ourselves, and tried to sleep until it got light.
Maradi-Kano, Nigeria, Thursday, 30 December, 1982
(HELENA) For once we had NO
problem in hopping out of “bed”. We were on our way walking by 6:30, the day
was not even completely light yet. We
were a good way out of town, so it took us more than an hour-and-a half to get
across town to the police check point.
Maradi was larger than we had expected.
Just as in Niamey, we saw quite a few new-looking public buildings. Our
consolation for the cold and longish night was a good hot mug of cafe au lait with bread. Amazing how that never fails to cheer us up!
We wanted to have some sort of idea of the cost of a taxi to Kano, so
Dan asked at the auto gare. Yesterday
we learned that it is always to our advantage to know the going price for
public transportation. That way if we are unable to hitch, we at least will not
pay more than other people do.
The policeman treated us rather gruffly when we arrived to drop our
packs at his door, but we filled out forms, and he told us to go wait across
the road, and he would ask for a ride for us.
Sure enough, we were just starting to move across the road when he told
us to get into the back of a pickup that he had ordered to take us. Hmm, but it
was a ride. It turned out that they only took us the + 40 km to the
border, so our hitching luck was once again short-lived.
Our benefactor was a very unwilling one, so he dumped us unceremoniously
at one of the busiest (if not the busiest) borders I have ever seen. We
quickly did our passport business and proceeded to sit from 9:00 to 12:15. Car after car went by, but they were all
either public vans or station wagons, or more Mercedes Benzes with
unapproachable-looking men in robes and caps. Ever since Niamey we have been
seeing men with the tall, starched, embroidered hats that almost all of the men
in Kano wear with their matching robes and tapered pants. It gives them a
distinguished and elegant air. Dan
approached many drivers, but no one was even remotely interested. We finally paid to go in a Peugeot taxi.
[1] In retrospect our brief exposure to Niger was our worst experience of
uniform-on-civilian corruption on the trip and really ever since. The gall of forcing obviously poor people to
get off a bus and then to charge them to get back on still sticks in my mind 30
years later.
[4] A friend of ours working in Mozambique in 2012-2013 is expected to hire three
watchmen on rotation.
[5] We were travelling with a water purifying glass in two pieces, allegedly
developed by NASA. The two pieces were
arranged one way to travel, and another way so that you could pour water in the
top and have it filter while you ate. We
have never seen anything like it since.
(Comment from our mother added to the journal in Feb., 1983) "Helena and Dan surprised us by giving us a “ring” on Friday morning, February 18. They were calling from Douala, Cameroon to check about their checking account. They said that Mr. Ottemoeller was not able to work out a job for Dan, so they were on their way again. They had heard from Maureen who had been unable to meet them for Christmas in Niamey because she contracted hepatitis. (It must not have been a severe case as she was able to meet her father in Kenya and go on to London with him.)"
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