A week ago our plane touched down in Niamey, the capital city of Niger. It was around 2am local time. As we grabbed our carry-ons and made our way out of the air conditioned cabin, we descended the movable staircase and crowded into transport bus that would take us for a 20-second drive from the plane to the arrivals terminal.
As we stood in the-kind-of-a-line, sweating, at passport control, I took in a deep breath of hot, stale air.
It's always amazing to me what stands out as different, and yet is comfortingly normal, in a strange sort of way. Things like camels squatting on the side of the road in a residential neighborhood. Or dirt and sand roads in the capital city. Struggling electric and water supply, as new roundabouts are created in order to house Niamey's first sculptures. Once-new bridges and overpasses are now dust stained and aged.
Maiguida and I continue in this ongoing lifestyle of transition that we look forward to giving up in a few weeks. In the mean time, it's back to the torturous state that is language learning.
So as we juggle re-climatizating to the Sahel, coping through hours without water and/or power (read: no shower, no fan, no AC, dripping in sweat and grumpy beyond all reason), and living in another house that is not ours, we've decided to add tackling Hausa to the mix.
WHAT WERE WE THINKING?!?!