11/08/2004

The Peace Corps calls it the 'fishbowl syndrome,' the realization that everyone is watching you, every minute of every day. It's a little disconcerting, but I suppose all I can really do is accept it for what it is, simple curiosity, and move on. Still, it's a bit disconcerting... As I walk through the market in Gounou-Gaya, the village that will be my home for the next two years, I stick out like the sorest, whitest thumb imaginable. Old women selling sugar and spices, men hacking away at chunks of raw beef, goat, and sheep with axes, children running around with trays of bananas on their heads- they all see me, and one word instantly comes to mind- nasarra.

The origin of the word itself, which means foreigner, is interesting. According to legend, the first foreigners to ever visit Chad were from modern day Israel and the West Bank, with many of the first missionaries coming from the city of Nazareth. A mispronunciation here and there and Nazareth quickly morphs into nasarra. If you ever feel starved for attention, a trip to Chad will cure all of your problems.

It can be more than a little annoying at times, and it seems to go hand in hand with the Chadian tradition of stating the blindingly obvious. One of the most common phrases I've heard in greetings is "Tu es la?" which means, "You are here?"

No. I'm somewhere else.

I mean, honestly, if someone is standing right in front of you, is it really necessary to confirm it? Monica, one of my fellow trainees, was doing laundry at the training center the other day, and had no fewer than four Chadians ask her on different occasions, "are you doing laundry?" as her hands were resting in a bucket of soapy water and clothing. I Among the trainees, we've even invented a 'Whose Line Is It Anyway' style Superhero that fits right in with this tradition, Captain Obvious, or Captaine Evidant, en Français.

But as much as little things like this can be annoying, there is another side completely to Chadians, something which you realize almost instantly after meeting them. It's a sense that no matter how poor someone is, or how hard their life may be, they will always want to help you, give you food and water, chat with you, and offer you anything they have. How a people who have so little can give so much so freely is amazing to me; if we as Americans had that same sense with the resources we have at our disposal, the world would truly be a better place. The guardian of my new house, a man named Marc (he has a much longer traditional name, of course) has offered me food every meal, never once expecting or asking for anything more than conversation in return. Whenever I get up to do anything, whether its going to the nearby pump to get a bucket of water, or sweep my apartment, I have a squadron of kids who will take the bucket or broom from my hand, and rush off, or start sweeping. This afternoon, I had to insist on going along to the pump with one of my neighbors, if only to watch him draw the water, simply because I felt guilty about just sitting back and waiting.

Did I mention that I'm a homeowner for the first time, by the way? I had to come all the way to Chad to do it, but I finally have my own place. Granted, it's two rooms made of fired mud-brick with a tin roof, but it's home, and it's mine for the next two years. By American standards, it is quite literally Third World, but I already feel an attachment to it that I've never really had to a place I've rented. The floors are cement, and there is one large window in each room, which unfortunately does very little to cool the place down. There's no electricity or running water, of course, but the aforementioned pump is maybe 100 meters away, and as for electricity, well, maybe someday. The town is actually in the process of being wired for electricity, a huge step in the development of the place. Gounou-Gaya is clearly a town on the rise by Chadian standards. A new water tower is under construction, and before long running water will be coming from taps on each of the main streets, as I mentioned before, the power plant is under construction, and in a stroke of truly good luck for me, a brand-new high school is due to be finished in December. I'm excited to be here, and I just hope that things continue to go well- they certainly have until now...

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