The Parents Take Niger

Last night wrapped up a week long visit with the 'rents. Although I was pushing for them to visit for two weeks, i think they were "Niger'd out" after being in the bush! The first day they arrived I took them to what is considered to be the nicest hotel in Niamey. I told my mom I could have found her a cheaper hotel, but I know she prefers luxury- she looked at me and said "This is luxury?" I was a little concerned about how they would manage the rest of their trip, but they adjusted just fine....
After a few days of searching for giraffes and getting a glimpse of Niamey we headed to Babagade. As we arrived we recieved a warm welcome from the village we tried to sit down and relax...but the welcoming didn't stop! Nigeriens love to greet, and when you're tired of greeting, you greet again! All afternoon people from all over the village came in to see both my parents-my mom newly named "Haisatou" and my dad "Soumaiaylou". The kids came quickly to begin the staring that never ended for the entire 4 days they were in the bush! Then they would try touching my parents to see if they would turn white too!
Both of my parents seemed to adjust quickly to the bush- no running water, no electricty, the dirt, the uncomfortableness, my small house. Except for one thing- they both avoided the toilet insisting they didn't know how to use it! Who would have thought my parents- the people that taught me how to camp, would have been so concerned about squatting?!
Besides the toilet they seemed to enjoy meeting and chatting with my villagers. It was an interesting meeting of the two worlds- women and men that I've referred to as my dad, mom and Nigerien family for the last year and a half finally meeting my real parents. Although some of my friends were tough on them- one of my friends was insisting my dad needed to go work in the field for the day. The women insisted my mom had to stay around and pound millet and rice. One things for sure though- both parents kept commenting on the happiness that they could see in the village, an innate happiness. The women and men of Niger just don't stop joking.
It was interesting to see both my parents adjust to the village life by themselves. My mother had no problem heading out into the village and sitting with the women by herself, regardless of a huge language barrier. As for my dad? He became the Pied Piper! When we were at market my mom and i went for a little walk around and left my slightly cranky dad by himself sitting. When we came back he had nearly 30 kids gathered around him, teaching them English. He'd point and the kids would answer "eyes, nose, chin". Keep my dad around this country and these kids will be speaking English in no time!
That night after getting back from market we were all exhausted and as we were going to bed I got a knock on my door. When I answered it it was one of my villagers bringing my parents a gift: a live chicken. I didn't quite know what to do, but my mom in her limited zarma kept saying "Alhamdulala". Which in this situation translates to "No thank you". She thought she was being nice! After settling the situation we finally had a new little pet tied to the bed!
The third day in the bush we had a party and killed a goat for the visiting annasaras. All the women in the village came to eat some rice and goat then to dance the afternoon away. Although (very) hectic, it was fun to hang out for the day with the buzz of the village around.
After four days in the bush we went back to the same hotel we stayed at when they arrived- which they now recognized as luxurious! After a few more days in Niamey both my parents survived Niger- including the near death hippo ride!