And I'm OUT!

Luv Ya, Sport.

My time as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV in the most acronym-filled organization I've ever been a part of) has come to an end. Bittersweet were the goodbyes... It was sad to part ways with so many good friends - not knowing if and when I would see them again. All the while, it felt pretty darn good to be departing my village before hot season really takes hold. Up next: I start my vacation around West Africa and head back to ol' America!

Where to begin with bringing this experience to a close? It's the most complex, challenging, enjoyable, exciting, boring, sad, breath-taking, difficult, eye-popping, hilarious, ridiculous, hot, sweaty, sticky, uncomfortable, and enlightening experience I've ever had. Ultimately, I think it's the most valuable thing I've done with my life to date. To try and put in to words what living over here for almost two-and-a-half years was like causes my eyes to well up. Quick tangent: The 'African moment' for me is when I lose track of time and place and feel nothing but awe and inspiration. It's kind of like Emerson's "transparent eye-ball" I suppose without the emphasis on nature. Early on in my experience here those moments came quite often, but over time they became much less frequent as I became accustomed to life here. Attempting to summarize my journey here feels like one gigantic 'African moment'. It's overwhelming. It feels like I just lost my best friend. It feels like I just graduated college. It feels like I just scored the winning goal. It feels like I just went on a safari at sunset. It feels like my country is going awry. It feels like I'm with my best friends at a Phish concert. It feels like I'm falling in love. It feels like I just got my heart broken. It feels like all of the best and worst moments of my life combined.

I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to have lived in Niger for a couple of years. THANK YOU TAXPAYERS! =) And as challenging as it is to live here/there, I will miss it always.

Looking forward to see all of you soon,

Matt

And the oh-so-necessary photo section:

Malam is this one's name - the word for an educated Muslim who can lead prayer OR just slang for any adult male in Hausa. A good kid from my village. Here we're riding out to our village together - me for the last time.

A few kids hanging out near the fish market in Rawfi. A bit bright, but I liked the sun coming over the mesa.

Moussa, our Peace Corps driver, and his family. Taken at his house my last night in Konni.

Souleymane (Moussa's son), Ben "the Amazing" Grace (a fellow PCV), Moussa (our driver), and I. The thumbs-up lives to see another day.

Farming onions near Rawfi. It's that time of year and the fields are endless.

Dan Banza! This guy works on the truck that goes back and forth between my village and Konni on market days. Everyone calls him "Dan Banza" which is slang for a "son of nothing OR son of noone" (you get the idea). Everyone swears over here - everyone. When driving through a neighboring village all the kids chase our truck and scream "Dan Banza!", which would be quite like driving through Essex Junction, VT and all the kids chasing our truck screaming "Bastard!" (pardon). He's got a pretty dirty mouth himself, so the name fits rather well.

The road is dusty out to my village and this lady (forgot her name, but she comes to our village often to buy fish and bring them back to Konni) covers up as a truck is about to pass us.

My friends Kate and Joey atop a Rawfi mesa. Joey's got one more to go before he's finished his Peace Corps service. Kate's all done like me and is currently my travelling buddy.

Crows catching the updrafts from the mesa we just hiked.

Me, Abdoullaye (my friend, neighbor, and local school teacher), and Joey Brach (only brother to three sisters and my spiritual guru). Note on African fashion: Nobody seems to care what you wear...

Shi ken nan. An yi duka babban kwana. Sai wata rana.