Once again, I have to begin by apologizing for a long absence! This time it had less to do with technology difficulties than health ones. I spent most of July in and out of the infirmary with various health problems which are all thankfully resolved now, but it left little time for posting my blog!

In my June post, I wrote about going to Maradi for a tofu training workshop. I returned from it at the beginning of July and am happy to report it was a great success! A group of volunteers from all regions of the country (Tillaberi, Tahoua, Maradi, Dosso, Zinder) gathered in Maradi with their "counterparts" (Nigerien co-workers) to learn about growing soy, making tofu, and marketing and selling it. Although most of the training was done in Hausa, some of the volunteers from Hausaland were very helpful in translating for the Zarma speakers and we were able to learn a lot.

Since rainy season planting has ended and the harvest is about to begin in a couple months, it is too late to implement the soy planting techniques we learned at the training in our local villages. However, a group of Zarma volunteers (myself included) are in the process of planning another tofu training for Zarma speaking volunteers and their counterparts in the Falmey sub-region this coming Cold Season (Oct. - Dec.)

Rainy season has been both a blessing and a curse in my village. The rains have turned the whole country green and the crops are doing fairly well, which is very exciting, especially for many of my neighbors that haven't had a full meal in months. Unfortunately, the rain has also allowed the mosquitoes to breed and flourish, and with them, malaria.

Malaria is a health crisis in Niger as it is in many other West African countries, one that I've been trying to help combat in my region, but with little impact. I began in June by encouraging my neighbors to buy mosquito nets, which are available in our local market. As often happens, I was met with shrugs and sighs of "There's no money to buy that." I tried to reason that a mosquito net (which costs about $2-$3) is much cheaper than buying medicine to treat malaria, but most of my villagers just laughed. To many of them, getting malaria is a yearly health battle, rather like winter flu oubtbreaks in America. Unfortunately, it is a yearly health crisis that many don't survive, particularly children and the elderly.

The first case I witnessed was the little sister of one of my village friends. One day a few weeks ago I saw her lying under a blanket shivering in the middle of the day. "Is Shemsia ok?" I asked her mother. She told me she had a fever and didn't want to get up. "Is it malaria???" I asked. "Maybe" her mother said, but didn't seemed overly concerned. I told her to take her to the health clinic right away, but she just looked away and said, "If it get's really bad I'll take her to the doctor."

Sure enough, Shemsia was running around and laughing the next day, but this is frequently the case with malaria. Symptoms tend to flucuate and parents often wait until the child is in a fevered coma before seeking medical treatment. At this stage, it's often too late to do anything. So far Shemsia is doing okay, as are all of my other close friends, but there are many who are suffering.

A few days ago,I stumbled upon a group of women crying in a village concession. It's very rare to see Nigeriens crying, so I was immediately panicked and asked someone standing by what had happened. "Someone died" he said. I was surprised because I hadn't seen this kind of extreme grief for a village elder that had died three months before. "Who was it?" I asked. "A child" he said softly. "Mohai Nye's son." He was eight years old.

This is the hardest part of being a volunteer here. As much as we want to help, we are constantly aware that any difference we make in our communities is pitifully small compared to the need. I have often thought about trying to go out and buy mosquito nets for all my villagers, or at least my friends. This is the kind of development many NGOs favor. Buy them the nets. Spoon feed the malaria medication. Short-term, feel good development. Unfortunately, I have seen the consequences of this in my village. Failed projects and the dangerous mentality that NGOs will always be around to help. Fortunately, I have also seen small but bright spots of hope in the efforts my community puts forth. Small changes in attitude and behavior that make me truly believe that what I'm doing is worthwhile.