Summer Rain and Mushrooms

The rainy season has been in full swing. In Niger, heat is a daily companion. Niamey has the second highest year-round average temperature among capital cities. During the hot season, I was talking to another missionary and he remarked that it felt as if the day had cooled. His wife walked to the thermometer, smiled, and said, “It’s 101.” Today, when I walk into my room, I am greeted by 83 which is a little humid but absolutely wonderful. I spoke to a friend recently who said that the fields of Niger are doing well despite the lateness of the rains. As usual, many areas of Niger have seen flooding and a few people have died but the alternative is a weak rainy season which leads to a country-wide drought. This year marks several consecutive years of good rain.

For several months last year, I provided a feeding program for a small number of older boys who live in the neighborhood. There were challenges and successes, but in the end I decided to stop the program. One reason was that the new Christian who lived in my housing compound and who helped with the program turned out to be a rather successful thief. A few days ago, one of the kids who had come to my house several times to eat appeared at my gate and asked if he and his friend could eat lunch with me on the next day. I am no longer set up for feeding 10 or 12 kids but I had just made a large skillet of spaghetti sauce. So, I told him that he could come over and bring his one friend. The next day, he showed up with two friends (which is better than showing up with 10 friends). They sat down, and I got them some ice water. I had run out of noodles so I decided to serve the sauce like stew and cut up cheese to sprinkle on top. Cheese is expensive here, and I rarely buy it. I just happened to have some. I took the three boys their lunch and one of them insisted that I eat with them. So, I went back inside and prepared myself a bowl. When I arrived on the porch and sat down, all three of them were staring at their food. One of the myths that living in Niger has dispelled in me is the idea that people in poor countries do not have food preferences. In fact, I have found Nigeriens to often be more picky than Americans. It is logical. People in Niger are exposed to only a small spectrum of food items and this is the spectrum that they like. And, most Nigeriens never attended the culture-awareness missions classes that I attended in Bible college. The boys had never eaten cheese and therefore didn’t like it.  That was strange because there is a form of cheese that is local. Anyway, they didn’t like my Swiss cheese. They had never eaten mushroom and therefore didn’t like them. This one, I suppose makes sense; mushrooms are a little weird. One of the boys was determined to eat. He took a big spoonful of sauce as if he were completing a dare and followed it with a bigger gulp of water. He repeated his strategy until his bowl was empty. The other two fake vomited and wondered why I hadn’t made rice. I bribed them with apples until they, too, finished their food. Apples are also a rarity in Niger but most people in Niamey are familiar with them. Good thing too, because  I wasn’t real keen on eating their food after they had played with it, and I certainly didn’t want to throw it out. I told them that I had many times eaten Nigerien food that I didn’t particularly like. I also told them that if they had behaved that way in front of an African lady who cooked for them, they would have had a hard time escaping her switch. They all mumbled, and said, “Oooh, yeah.” I told them that God loved them and sent them on their happy way.