Old Update #3

November 18, 2009
Our PC retreat began on Sunday, November 15. Typically Sundays are really boring days for us trainees; we have no scheduled class or activities and we are responsible only for finding our own breakfast. By 8am a large group of us Anasara (white people) had gathered on the street to slurp bags of sulani next to piles of smoldering garbage. All of the Zarma trainees who are housed in other villages had biked into our village for lack of anything better to do, so there were even more of us loitering around than is normal. By 10am we had broken into smaller groups; I hiked through the fields and villages surrounding the water hole with a group of friends, and, after lunch, settled down in a friend's hut to wait out the afternoon heat.
At 3pm there was a knock at the door. It was our language teachers. The Emergency Action Plan had been activated. Because of where the PC operates, it always needs to be ready in case a situation should arise in a country. Therefore, the PC uses a 3 stage response system. Stage 1 is standby--restricted travel and no leaving the village. Stage 2 is consolidation--report immediately to a safe house so that all personnel are accounted for and are in a controlled environment. Stage 3 is a full nationwide evacuation. The teachers informed us that we were at Stage 1 and not to panic because there was a possibility that this was a test.
Sunday was also the day the weather changed. For the first 3 1/2 weeks, the weather was constant and predictable. The sun beat down on the parched Nigerien soil from 9am until 6:30pm when the dimness brought on by an impending sunset made walking in unshaded areas tolerable once more. After we were moved to Stage 1, something changed; a deep haze enveloped the country. Visibility dropped down to a few hundred meters, and the once punishing heat of the sun was dulled as it continued its westward journey. It was as if a heavy smoke or fog had moved in, but the air remained dry and sweet smelling. The weather, combined with our lack of knowledge about what was happening gave everything an eerie quality and had all of the trainees on edge.
As I walked home, I turned the corner only to run into a fellow PCT. We were both startled and she tried to comfort me by giving me a big hug. While a hug from a friend certainly helped, its comforting qualities soon wore off when at 5pm I discovered we had been moved up to a Stage 2. All of the Zarma trainees who had biked in that morning were forbidden from returning home and instructed to report immediately to the safe house. Those of us living in the village were ordered to return to our houses and travel only when necessary and only in groups. None of us had been told what had happened, only that this was not a test and we would be briefed on the situation in the morning. I got a call from home at 6:15pm. With Grandma, relatives, parents, and family friends all conferenced in on the call, I resisted the temptation to alert the home front and conducted the phone call as if all was well.
The rest of us trainees were evacuated to the safe house the next morning. we were told to go back to our host family's and pack one bag for the next 2-7 days and not to tell anything to our Nigerien hosts. As could have been predicted, this sudden evacuation was enough to upset some of the host mothers who quizzed us in Hausa as to what was happening as we packed up our things. It was all we could do to respond only with "Ban sane ba" (I don't know) and hurry out the door. The safe house is one of the safest places to be in all of Niger. It has enough bed space and food to host us for a week. Once we were all safe, we were briefed on the situation. Four armed gunmen attempted to kidnap three American foreign service officers in Tahoua. The attack was unsuccessful, but it set off alarm bells all over the American Intelligence community. The situation has been weighing heavily on us. We have been sequestered here for a week, and we are not scheduled to be released for another 3 days. It is tough to stay focused on learning Hausa and agriculture when we have no interaction with average Nigeriens and are faced with the possibility that we could be evacuated if something else happens.
Thankfully the food here is great (I have put a few pounds back on!) and the staff has done their best to keep our spirits up. We were given an entire day to rest and tonight we are throwing a dance party in the cafeteria. Our country director got special permission from the Ambassador to come out and spend time with us answering questions and calming us down.
Apparently PC has decided to close the Tohoua and Konri regions and cram the existing PCVs into other regions. Then, by December 30, our Associate PC directors will need to find places for us 26 PCTs in the same regions. Needless to say, these terrorists have turned PC Niger into a logistical nightmare. In the end, none of us really know what is going to happen to us. Living as an ex-pat has taught me a lot about patience and going with the flow. We are scheduled to be released from our safe house on Friday. Hopefully we will be able to complete our service without any more consolidations.
--Michael