Shaking hands with loacls...

10 septembre 2007 - toujours à N'Djaména...

I thought Iowa had the biggest skies I had ever seen, but what I saw yesterday as we drove along the paved highway north of N'Djaména towards Lake Chad was even grander and awe-inspiring. Endless, endless skies... and because we've nearly reached the end of the rainy season, the fields are lush and healthy. Once you reach the outskirts of the city, which doesn't take long, you start passing village after village and little houses made either cement or mud bricks. And outside of every village stands a mosque for prayer. One of my favourite sights were three women draped in brilliant colours walking next to each other through a field of green carrying firewood on their heads - the sun was shining directly onto them. No photo could have captured that, although I did try.

The photo ops are endless here, but I don't like to invade people's space, so I just take in all these beautiful images mentally. I'm sure you all feel like that when you travel.

We stoped in a place called Douguia, right next to the river that separates Chad from Cameroun, and took a ride in a zodiac, passing waving chilren and grazing goats. We also saw a hipo and her baby, although because of convervation laws we didn't dare get too close.

The sun here starts setting at 6 p.m., and once it's gone, there is nothing. No lights, just the darkest of dark. On our way back into the city, one of the people in our group (there were 8 of us) who is a local invited us to have supper with his second wife's family in a village called Massakory, just north-east of N'Djaména. It is those spontaneous moments I cherish the most: when my world meets theirs, when nothing but a hand shake and a smile are the only common language we share. We entered the village just as the sun was starting to set and were immediately surrounded by around 40 children who had - I believe - never before seen a foreigner. Some of them smiled, but mostly, they looked at us curiously, and we looked at them. For about five minutes - the time it took our local friend to announce our visit - we just stood there looking at each other. The evening light was golden, and those faces just so beautiful I wish you could have seen them. I eventually pulled out my camera and asked if I was allowed to take pictures, and they said yes. And then things got lively. The girls started pointing at my eyes - they had never seen blue eyes - and my blond hair. And they screamed when I played back the photos on my screen and everyone started laughing.

We eventually stepped into the family's compound and they closed the gates. Our friend's uncle invited us into his house where we proceeded to take a seat on the carpeted floor and ate delicious roasted chicken, and eggs cooked in garlic water. It took my eyes a while to get used to the darkness, but once they did, I saw that we were surrounded by beautifully carved wooden shelves with glass doors, and behind them glasses and places! Such a contrast - here we are in the middle of nowhere, in a brick house, and their living room looks more elegant than mine back in Ottawa! We ate in silence...

On our way out, we were introduced to the uncle's children - his youngest daughter started howling when she saw me because she was afraid of my eyes. Considering I love children so much, that is quite devastating for me. The same thing happened in Indonesia where a little boy sobbed so heart-breakingly when he saw me that I nearly started crying too.

We left just as the sun had set. It took us about one hour to get back into the city. And because the air was so hazy, there was not a single star to illuminate the road on the way back. I spent the entire trip back speaking to our local friend about the way families are set up, how many women a man is allowed to marry, in which clans female circumcision is still tradition, etc. So interesting, so frustrating, so foreign to me, especially when it comes to women's rights. But I can't argue with them - I don't even try - because this is their culture, and we have our own, and nobody tries to change the way we do things either. Changes will come from within clans, the more women speak up. In many places, they already are.

I have one day left here in N'Djaména before I head to Abéché Wednesday morning. I'm happy to have had this time in the city. Off to dinner now.

Xo, Anne