Good things come to those who wait...and wait...

So judging from the few of you have asked, many must actually be wondering, “What the heck is she doing over there since she has said nothing of work?!” Well… In one month here in Niger I have managed to find a place to live and to get a map of the country- well, only sort of. Things move slowly, and in addition to the general pace, everything closes in the afternoon for 2-4 hours, and even the smallest things are laden with bureaucracy. This means you have to pick and choose priorities, and hope that none are too pressing.

Part 1
Thinking that it would be helpful to my own research and to the NGO, I have been on a mission to locate a map of Niger noting roads and villages. The search began at a bookstore- an obvious start- and was almost completely shut down when the salesperson tried to convince me that laminated map devoid of detail was worth the $50 USD price tag. I had heard that the Geography Department at the University had some great maps (since they have recently receiving funding from oil and mining companies) so I trekked across the Niger River to their campus one afternoon. After waiting several hours to speak with the department head, I followed him around the building for another few hours. We finally stopped in a research room full of drawers of maps. As he started pulling them out, I realized that there were way too detailed for my purposes, not to mention that I needed something to take with me. These maps obviously lived in this room and had for a long time. With my blood sugar starting to plummet, we found some tape and laid out the maps to piece together the region of Niamey. A critical piece was missing. Back to his office we went, where crawling on hands and knees he found the crumpled piece under his desk. “Voila!” he triumphantly waved the crumpled mass around. He let me know that I could come back to look at the maps whenever I wanted, but that he had a friend at the national geographic institute (IGNN) that might be able to create a map for me for a few dollars. So after two more days of waiting, I finally was able to give a list of the 100 villages where fistula patients have “been reintegrated” by the various non-profits in town. I have been promised that I will soon have a map with the villages labeled on it. We will see… No map yet…

Part 2
My new landlord, Rabiou, is a young educated guy who spent his formative years in Senegal, right across from the Peace Corps training center. Bonding over a common love for all things Senegalese, he offered to take me to Nigelec and SEEN, the electricity and water companies to get the services turned on. I was thrilled since Rabiou seems trustworthy and his father sits in the general assembly. I assumed that this meant that I would not experience the nightmare of others- I had heard of the necessary bribes, the verbal insults, and the weeks of waiting people experience trying to pays bills and get services. With only a few computers, most exchanges are recorded by hand in legers, creating piles of paper everywhere. You wait to give one person money, someone else to glue a stamp to prove payment, and yet someone else to reprint your bill if (God forbid) you never got it or lost it or brought the wrong one. And although you can bend many rules here, the employees are surprising unyielding about their bureaucratic processes. I blame the French. My required waiting time was compounded by the fact that is Friday and things close early, it is the end of the month, AND it is the end of the year. Everyone in Niamey was there trying to pay bills while the employees were trying to justify their books between shouting threats to turn off electricity. So in addition to those who follow directions and wait in enormous lines, there are also those (like myself and Rabiou) who spend enormous time and energy trying to circumvent the system. Feeling insulted if someone points for us to wait in line, we stand fast, demanding to see directors. They then send us back to the line. I was remarking to one gentleman we had been at this for two days, and he looked at me incredulously. Two weeks he had been coming!

To put services in my name, I needed the last bill, to prove that it had been paid, my passport, some money for a deposit, and my address. All of these items, other than the passport, are difficult to produce. You think the address is easy? Well, my address goes something like this: “The cream colored house with light blue doors next to the school around the corner from the pharmacy and the guy who sells gas cans.” There are no house numbers and since the water and electric meters are obviously numbered, you need the last bill. If you are unlucky, and the last resident has not paid it or someone has been using your tap between tenants to sell water to people, you are going to have a hefty bill in your lap in addition to the deposit. Luckily we spent part of the day driving around to retrieve bills and money from people so that I could start off on the right foot.

I have to admit that I completely relinquished control to Rabiou and followed him around- sitting when he told me to sit, signing paper he gave me to sign, and running after people he motioned for me to chase.

After 12 hours of waiting in lines, I have electricity and water in my new house and can officially move in. I think that the best comment on the experience was best put by one old man as he approached the exit of Nigelec. He turned to those of us waiting, raised his arms and eyes to the sky and proclaimed, “May there be electricity with Nigelec!” It seemed like as good a prayer as any.

Happy Tabaski, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!