Greetings are hugely important here, and people will take time to greet each other with multiple expressions before getting down to business. This is especially the case outside of the cities, where the pace is even slower. (The pace in the Sahel, according to more experienced West African travelers that I’ve spoken with, is drastically slower and more laid back than near the coast; the difference is usually attributed to the heat of the sun.) When I had the chance to visit a village just outside Niamey yesterday, I shook hands with a man who wouldn’t let go for at least a solid minute–to me, a length that feels painfully awkward based on my experiences in the US.
Niger is an extremely diverse country, and most people (at least, most people in Niamey) speak several languages. French is the colonial language, the language of education, and the language known by most foreigners coming to Niger. So for me, being an American and an anazara (the local word for a white person), the expectation is that I only know French. This is of course problematic since my French is pretty shaky. One pleasant surprise I’ve found, though, is that many locals have more positive regard for Americans than for, say, the French or other Europeans, because (thanks largely to the Peace Corps, which unfortunately no longer operates in Niger) Americans are among the few foreigners who generally put more effort into learning local languages and engaging more with locals. There’s really a strange divide between foreigners–the expat aid workers, embassy staffers, engineers, etc.–and the locals here, I’ve found. There are, of course, exceptions, and these are probably gross generalizations, but they’re generalizations that even locals have expressed to me.
The point is, I’m finding that even one greeting in a local language can completely change the dynamic of a conversation, which is truly amazing. A few nights back I was going for a walk in the neighborhood and, being fairly shy, only greeted a few people now and then, usually with “salut” or “ça va?”. As I was passing closely by one shop, a man was looking at me a little coldly while holding his young daughter in his lap, and although we had made eye contact for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Warming up to the idea of using the few local greetings I was just starting to get my head around, I greeted him in the primary local language Zarma: “matagaham?” (“how’s it going?” or, literally, “how’s your body?”). His face exploded in a huge smile and he replied with a thousand words I didn’t understand, but the change in expression communicated plenty.
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I’m making arrangements to begin taking Tamashek (that’s the Tuareg language) lessons with a woman here in Niamey, which will be great to start with even if it’s not a widely usable language here in the city. Tamashek is reportedly a very difficult language (for instance, there are 5 variations of the “r” sound similar to the French “r”; German has 2 such variations), and one challenge I foresee is that there are many different dialects across the Tuareg territories in Africa. I’m also hoping to get some tutoring in French since it is going to remain my main way to communicate. But the mileage I can get with just “matagaham” is making me wonder whether some Zarma lessons wouldn’t be a bad idea….
Hey Eric,
Lovely post as always. You’re splendid in how you describe the ways of a locality.
One code I’ve yet to crack in Ireland is how the locals use their car horns to communicate. In general, and due to the fact that most Irish towns are relatively small, the residents all know one another and frequently stop to engage in greetings from across the street, from car to car, and from pedestrian to car. People don’t seem to mind if someone driving stops the other cars for a moment to have a quick conversation with a passerby. I’ve been taking jogs along the roads up toward the town and frequently am greeted with quick honk from those in passing. I’m actually unsure what this means, since originally I thought the drivers were warning me of their presence, or mistook me for someone they knew, whereas now I’m thinking of it as possibly a wave. I don’t see too many joggers around here, however, so it very well may just be a warning as I originally thought.
I’m going to ask someone the next chance I get to ask. A lot of Irish drivers say “thank you” and “here I am” essentially, with their horns. The roads are narrow, and people get stuck behind slow moving cars, so they communicate frequently in that manner. It’s like the cars become an extended vocal apparatus of the self.
The meaning of car honking is always an interesting matter! It’s complicated here, too, but people use horns a lot. There aren’t really much in the way of traffic lights and I still don’t understand how people decide when to go or not go (and I’ve yet to see an accident), but I see honks mean “Hi!” and “Get out of the way!” and “Hey, watch out, I’m here!” and everything in between, polite and impolite. I’m still trying to figure out LA honking, too–I find you need to honk now and then at the crazy drivers, but I can’t stand the people who just hold down the horn and stare you down. Anyway, don’t get run over!
Matagaham anazara!
It’s wonderful to be able to get a taste of what you’re experiencing and observing. Speaking of taste….how is the food and what are you eating? Do you find that Ramadan is affecting your daily intake of nourishment or do only Muslims strictly observe fasting during the daylight hours?
As you learn some Tamashek, will the lessons be strictly oral or are there books to study, also? Do you still plan to study Arabic when you return to school in September?
Sorry for all of the questions, and don’t feel that you have to answer them all, but I am so curious about so many things!
Glad you are able to communicate with a smile. “A genuine smile truly opens the heart” as does music, of course.
There are so many people here who love you and are following along with your adventure. You have so much support . Much love and respect, Mom
Food’s great! I’ll have to do a post dedicated to food as soon as I get some pictures and have a better grasp on the names of the dishes. I’ll post more in a minute, though, and hopefully answer some of your questions. As for Tamashek, I’m having my first lesson tomorrow, and it will probably be all oral. There is an alphabet but few people use it. I’m keeping my eyes out, though, as there are some bookstores and I may be able to find a copy of the old Peace Corps manual for learning the language. At this point, though, it’s going to be hard to learn much of the language since I’ll take lessons only once a week, so I plan to continue with Arabic for the time being. I’m also doing French lessons three times a week now.