"By the Hausa calendar...

or "your" calendar? You know, they are not the same..."

February 16th, 2008
We've organized the second women's meeting in Garen Maigari and are working to establish the first day that the women will begin depositing money into the "caisse"- their bank reserve for the goat loan project.

By the Hausa calendar, they decide to make their monthly deposits ont he 3rd day of every month. Each of the initial 40 women will deposit 250CFA (40 cents) per month which will be used in such cases of replacing a goat that dies or buying medicine to remedy an ailment in the herd of loaned goats. Eventually, as the caisse grows, these women will be able to administer microloans to each other for individual income generating activities. Buying millet during the harvest season at it's lowest price to sell for a high price later on, and buying peanuts to make oil and kuli-kuli (dried peanut pulp), would be common examples.

My patience leaves me for a moment as the chaos expands to the outer circles of women in the group and I am having a difficult time even hearing Ibrihim answer questions although he is standing next to me.
"KU SAURAURA, KU SAURAURA, DON ALLAH!" / "LISTEN EVERYONE, LISTEN, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"
"MU BA YARA BA, WANNAN BABBATU KAMAR TARON YARA, DON ALLAH, BARI HIRA EN JI ABINDA MUKE CE!"
"WE AREN'T CHILDREN, THIS SOUNDS LIKE A CHILDREN'S MEETING. FOR GOD'S SAKE, QUIT TALKING AND LISTEN TO WHAT'S BEING SAID!"

The women quit their chatter for about 45 seconds, and the murmur again starts to build.
But, I smile.
As I scan the group, I see the faces of women here who live the tradition of "cloistering", they are bound to their home during daylight hours, only able to visit friends ro venture out with their husband's permission under the cover of darkness. Cloistering is not only a show of faith in Islam, but one of wealth since the husband has to pay for someone to pull water and retrieve firewood, tasks commonly undertaken by his wife/wives.
There are many cloistered women who've been allowed to attend this day meeting in hopes of receiving a goat. Their excitement, and inability to quit chatting is understandable.

Sai hankuri.
Have patience.

My astonishment, a tightness in my chest,

surprises me as we taxi into the docking bay at the airport. We've just landed at JFK International airport in New York and one of the first things I notice is all the light posts... on the tarmac...along the freeways. I'm again overcome with the realization that although enlightened in so many ways, the illumination that our developed world offers keeps us from so many simple pleasures, like the breathtaking glory of the stars from horizon to horizon. A true wonder each night in the Saharan sky.

I'm back to this home again.

The journey was incredible, more difficult than even I imagined, but also more complete. The village meetings, the joyful women, old friends, market day chaos, riding three strong on a motorcycle through the bush. Niger.
The gifts given by so many of you, and the opportunities to share these gifts.
I can still hear the grateful blessings over and over and feel the reached out hands as I walk out of each village on our journey of giving.

Now, walking along the jetway into the airport, I can't help but smile when I look down at my black boots. All the crevices are filled with the red sand/dust that has permeated my clothes, hair, and feet, since setting foot on Nigerien ground.
I think of the crowd of little dusty faces and the bellowing cheers as I make my way through the village feeling like the pied piper blowing bubbles along the way...


Since I was not able to post blogs along the way, I have recorded them and will be adding them here as time allows.
So many stories, thoughts, and emotions that I would like to share. Please come back to visit this week to catch a glimpse of the beauty gleaned from this "other world", and to hear about the success we've had in planting Seeds of Hope.

To the world you may be one person,
but to one person you may be the world.

Zoulleha