Marriage Proposals

We regularly walk our neighbourhood in the early evening to visit with our neighbours and scary as it may sound I am almost getting used to the fact that on a regular basis there is someone who wants to marry my husband off to someone else. Not that I would ever let it happen, but when you live in a polygamist society you don't generally change it all that fast.
But the other day I had a new experience... We went around the corner and started talking to a lady we hadn't met before. This lady looked like she was in her eighties (so she had to be at least in her late fifties--Niger has a way of aging people!). Anyway, she saw that we had Cole with us and said something that we couldn't quite follow, but it looked like she was suggesting a marriage. She called over her daughter (whose zarma was a little clearer) and said that she wanted our son to marry her granddaughter. We just needed to come by with a dowry. We just laughed.
Luckily Cole doesn't understand any zarma yet because like most eight year old boys he thinks girls are YUCKY! It made an interesting conversation on the way home, as we explained to him why we were laughing. He told us that he wasn't ready to get married and didn't think he would be for a long time! We told him that he was lucky to be Canadian and to have parents that thought that he should choose his own wife and that we would be happy if it didn't happen for a long time. --Don't tell him I put this in the blog he would be upset but it was too good to pass up.

By the way, we sent out our quarterly newsletter this week. If you didn't get it but would like to e-mail us and we'll be happy to send it to you. You'll find our e-mail address on our prayer card of on the FMC website: www.fmc-canada.org

Guards, Treasures and Thieves

19“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal…”

When we first moved into our neighbourhood last fall, an older gentlemen, a plumber for the hospital, pulled up on his scooter, greeted me and welcomed me but then quickly advised me to be sure that I hire a guard. We already knew that was probably a wise plan, though another friend counseled us saying, “A guard is good; a guard and a dog is better; but just a dog is best.” We’ve taken option number two till this point, but have never felt the need to be concerned. This week however things changed. We have a woman who comes to cook and clean a couple mornings a week, and yesterday while we were out she had a visitor at the front gate. He said, “The white people who live here sent me to get the television—you’re supposed to give it to me.” Fortunately, she knew better and sent him on his way. Our language teacher told us this is a typical ploy, and often works with young houseworkers fresh from the village. We shared the story with neighbours as we went out to walk the neighbourhood yesterday and today, and everyone seems to say the same thing: there’s a lot of thieves in the neighbourhood. One neighbour, David who works at the garage where I take my car said, “A dog is good but you need two.” The imam who lives next door said, “You need to talk to the guy around the corner who’s a municipal police officer, he’ll catch him for you.” The Chief of the Quartier’s son who sells vegetables on the corner told us that a thief was in their compound last night and the only reason they were able to chase him away was because the children hadn’t fallen asleep yet and heard him in the yard. I find that the story tends to arouse a strong reaction with neighbours. I must say that I don’t feel overly concerned but whether that is simple faith or simply naïve, only the Lord knows.
(Jenn says: little did they know that our tv is kind of like our car hardly worth the effort!)

Please remember Jenn's sister and her family as her father-in-law is battling cancer.

Here is the real treasure in our house:

Car Buying

Our little car has served us well over the last few years. Or at least it got us to where we were going most of the time. But the time is coming for a change. Lately the battery is starting to die and I've stuck a solar panel in the back window to keep it charged (which is fine as long as we're not out after dark). However, buying cars in Niger is another story. Most people hire an agent to go out looking for them. Middlemen in theory are supposed to be helping the buyer but nevertheless I still get the distinct feeling of dealing with a salesman. Cars aren't built in Niger only rebuilt, and having said that the best buy is probably imported. Toyota will ship new products but shipping alone is over a thousand dollars. So the short version is we've been looking at used cars in Niger. Imports seem invariably to have had their odometer rolled back though there's usually some indication of what the real mileage should be. One car had the Swiss maintenance record in the glove compartment. Another had a little sticker by the door hinge from an Italian garage recording mileage at the last oil change... Fun doesn't stop there. Imported cars need to passed through customs to have the appropriate taxes paid. Paying once doesn't mean you won't have to pay again. Friends from various other missions have had their vehicles impounded on occasion because someone in customs pocketed the money instead of processing the paperwork. Oh, and did I mention that on newer cars that have micro chips in the key, you can't have a second key made because there is no way to prove that the car wasn't stolen at some point in time. Needless to say this is somewhat stressful moment, but God is faithful.

Simple Pleasures

This week was Ben's birthday so we gave him some choices for his celebration: 1) have a party at school with his whole class or 2) have some friends from his class over for a party or 3) go out to the restaurant of his choice with the family or 4) have one friend sleepover. He chose to have the sleepover, which means that we delayed the celebration by a day so that the sleepover wouldn't be on a school day. This left the problem of the dinner meal for his actual birthday, to which he responded “chicken noodle soup!” Thanks to friends in Canada that had sent some we used the last package or chicken noodle soup to celebrate his birthday and to make the day extra special, God provided that Grandma & Grandpa's present arrived in the mail on the day of his birthday. Because we only had one friend for the “party” we decided to make the presents a little more interesting by sending him on a treasure hunt to find them. He was thrilled.

I am amazed at how it can take so little to make a seven year old happy. Why is it that as we get older we forget to stop and take the time to revel in simple pleasures? I decided to do something about that and to slowly revel in the peppermint patty that Grandma sent me in the package! :)

Thanks for those who have been praying for us. We used Ben's birthday as a opportunity to reach out to some young men that we have been connecting with and invited them over for homemade ice cream. They came and we had a good visit with them. Continue to pray for our language learning and open doors, I struggled to understand a couple of ladies who came to our house last night looking for work and missed an opportunity.

One Is Enough

People still marvel at our use of Zarma in the street even though we're still have only a survival level of Zarma at best. It's just enough to get into trouble. We like to go out to the main road by our house where there are a number of street vendors selling everything from soup to nuts as my brother would say. The other day we went out to pick up some breakfast, little deep fried pancakes that are a penny a piece but heavy on the grease. Balkissa, one of the vendors greeted in us in Zarma and chatted. Meanwhile a crowd began to gather to watch her carry on with the white people, including a couple of ladies that were standing behind us whom I could overhear talking about the Anasara's ie. white people. Balkissa turned to me and nodded to the ladies behind Jennifer, and I thought she asked, “Do you understand what they're saying?” “Yes,” I said. She repeated this time point at them saying, “You understand them?” “A little bit,” I replied. At that point Jennifer suspected that something might be awry as some began to laugh. Upon further clarification I discovered what she really had asked was “Would you like to take one of these women as a wife?” (“Yes”) And then, “That one, you would like her for a wife?” (“A little bit...”) It was one of those days when I was glad I had Jennifer standing beside me. I quickly explained that I was quite content with the wife I had, and desired no more. “Oh but this is Niger,” she said, “you can have four wives here.” No, one is enough, and fortunately she helps keep me out of trouble.