Odds, Ends and (of course) Soccer

Every time I come in to Zinder and write another post about my girls soccer team I promise myself its gonna be the last one... So I’ll make it quick. Before, I wrote about one of the girls who is super awesome and played with the guys. Well, we had another game with a team from a nearby town and we won 1-0. In the process she scored an amazing goal (she blasted the ball into the upper corner of the net from far far away). All the girls played really well, but what made it particularly special for Nouria was that her father was in the crowd watching the game. Whether its cultural, a factor of generally having a lot of kids, or any of many another possible reasons, it is NOT common for a parent to come to his or her child’s extra-curricular school activities. Let alone a father coming to his girls soccer match. But he came and was treated to seeing his daughter score a brilliant goal. As he told me after the match, the moment she scored he sent a message to Nouria’s mom telling her the news.

So, after the match I grabbed my bike and stopped by her house. This picture is of her with her two parents, still beaming from the game. On the front of her jersey she had written the name of Cameroonian forward Samuel Eto’o, her favorite soccer player. Anyways, I’m so so proud of all of them but this picture in particular makes me want to smile. If the connection is working well, I’ll try and toss up another picture with some of the others.

Since I’m sure that everyone has a remarkably skewed idea of what it is I do here, I’m gonna take a moment to try and right that misrepresentation. I’ve been spending a lot of time finally getting the latest copy of a local journal printed. Of course that doesn’t come easy. In the last month, both of our computers have had serious problems, we’ve changed editors, I’ve had to go back and forth to Zinder twice to get it printed, and the other volunteer who had been doing this before me finished his service and is now sitting back in the U.S. So it’s been hectic.

I’m also starting to look into ways of applying for grants for one of the two local high schools, the Franco-Arab (they learn French and Arabic instead of French and English like most others). The school has just been promised a piece of land by the town and an NGO has promised to help build classrooms, but as of yet they do not have any latrines or any source of water at the new site. So I’ve been trying to figure out which grant organizations in country might be a good match and to do some of the preliminary research for how to get that done. A while back I described how I’ve taken over a similar grant type project at the other high school from the volunteer before me. Well, even though that project has continued to be a nightmare, I’m trying to do it all again with this new project with the Franco-Arab. The bottom line is that the resources are badly needed. Matameye is a very quickly growing town, and right now the schools are simply way overloaded and getting more so.

Note to my Mom (and maybe a few others): So as I mention that I can basically here the click of my mom’s mouse and the tap tap tap of the keyboard as she starts writing me an email asking how she can help out. I’ll say this… Hold on. Bringing money in from America is a complicated process. It’s not as easy as sending a check in the mail. With these grants available I want to explore those options as thoroughly as possible. And finally this would be a pretty expensive project, so thank you everyone for the enthusiasm, there will likely be a day when I do make a request, but that day has not yet come.

Work at the high school has been frustrating. I’ve been wanting to get rolling working with the English teachers to help them as much as possible, but strikes by the teachers have consumed 10 of the last 15 school days. I don’t want and can’t get into Nigerien politics, but I sympathize with both sides of the government v. teacher dispute. It’s just so sad seeing the frustrated students who walk up to an hour to come to school each day (or even more sometimes) just to hear there aren’t classes. I don’t know whose fault it is, and really, I’m not sure it’s anyone’s, but more than anyone it’s the students paying the price.

I’m bouncing a number of other project ideas around in my head, and as my language skills, French and to a lesser extent Hausa, fall into place I’m looking forward to trying to get some of them rolling. In no particular order they are: helping set up some sort of computer literacy classes at the local library (I once mentioned that they got new computers by a miracle of… oh wait, I’m not religious), traveling out into the bush to do sensibilisations promoting girls ed, helping set up a small cooperative for out of school girls to learn some money-making skills, and setting up a girls group for students at the high school who come from the surrounding small towns (because they often start behind the level of the local students). Maybe I’ll do all of those things, maybe I’ll do none of them. Only time will tell.

Otherwise, things are good. Matameye friends are great. I’m heading to Niamey for a week starting this Sunday to welcome the Freshmen at their swear-in ceremony. I’ll write more about that later. But I’ll actually be in the big city for a bit with technology (ie. internet) somewhat accessible. So write me. It makes me happy. I hope everyone is well.

NOTE ON MY NAME: ISMAEL. I don’t know why I feel like I want to clarify this but I do. I guess probably because the sound of my real name grows more and more bizarre to me every passing day. When I say it to someone I can’t help but think to myself, “my god, what a weird name” something most of you have all probably been saying for years. I thank my sort of hippie parents…

Anyways, my name is pronounced “Iss-my-ell” “Iss” as in “hISS” like a snake. “my” as in “MY”, I suppose that one is pretty self explanatory. And “ell” as in “hELLo” my name is Ismael. My name IS NOT IsHmael (please note the H). That is the name of a large talking ape in a crappy book by the same name. Seriously, that book is not awesome. Don’t bother reading it. OK… Done with my rant.