Three days in Konni makes a lot of good memories

Our second trip to Konni came as we were preparing to host the pastors in August. We left early, Monday the 25th. Baker, Gail, Kris and I all loaded into the truck with a second load of furniture. Just mine this time. The drive was nice. We made good time. We stopped at my house first, unloaded the furniture, then went to the Epic house (formerly David and Renee’s) and had sandwiches for lunch. It was 2:30 by the time we had lunch, so we were hungry. Then we rested for a while before venturing out to get some errands done. Jibbo, a good Fulani guy came by and offerred to show us around some fulani villages. We agreed, so thankful for the offer. We made plans with him to come at 9 am the next morning. Jibbo took us out towards a village east of town at 10:15am the next morning. The village is called Rigo Zabi. God’s awesome timing led us to meet a man who lives in that village at the gas station and he gave us an open invitation to come visit. God amazes me! So right then, he jumps into the back of the truck and we head off to his village. I was so excited because this was my first village visit and it was great! We headed about 6K from the town on the main road and then turned off and followed a donkey cart path for another 2K. The road was bumpy, but passable. We parked the truck a small distance away from a group of huts surrounded by millet. The millet here is taller than I am and already has a head on the stalk. We walked near to the huts and our host introduced us to the head of that group of huts and we walked past them to a tree where they set mats out for us to sit. We visited for a short while under the trees, The two white men, our guide Jibbo, Young and old men from the village, some wearing turbans, some Fulani hats, some muslim skull caps and some carrying hoes. Then, off to the side were the White women, honored enough to sit on the mat, but separated from the men. I did not mind. We were offerred fresh milk to drink and we all drank it, thanking them profusely. I really liked the milk. It was cool, sweet and refreshing. After we visited for a while we were told that the chief was not far away, a ten minute walk, so we walked. There was a definite social order to the progression. The men were ahead of us, surrounded by all the important men; next came Gail and I. We tried to get Fulani women to walk with us, but they did not stay; next came the younger, less influential men; then came the rest of the women. We walked through a millet field with stalks well over my head. Soon, we came to another group of huts and were led to another tree with mats being laid out under it. Sitting on a stool at the very center of the mats, at the base of the tree was the Chief. He was an old man, hunched and frail, with lots of wrinkles and barely enough strength to lift his head. The guests sat on the mat in front of him, and people kept bringing mats and sitting until we were surrounded on all sides. The women came and sat behind us, with the children. The men sat all around behind the chief. We greeted them for a while and then Kris began to tell them why we were there. He talked for a long time while everyone listened. He talked about bringing the pastors and that they wanted to work with the Fulani. He talked about God and learned that they did not have a mosque, but it was probably because they were too poor to build one. They did have muslim teachers. The visit went really well. I started bonding with the kids and tickled them just enough for them to squirm. By the end of the visit I had six girls all sticking their feet out to get tickled. They aren’t ticklish on the bottom of their feet because they never wear shoes, but on their ankles they are ticklish. Kris asked permission to bring back the pastors in 11 days. ( I can’t believe it is that soon) They agreed and were very welcoming to us and them. We went to leave and I said goodbye to my new friends and promised that I would see them again. They were all smiles. We walked back to the truck and said goodbye to the men there. Then Kris asked if he could pray for them. They said yes!! He did, praying in the name of Jesus and praying that they would come to know him. He thanked God for the village, for the millet and for the rain. It was such a beautiful prayer! We got back into the truck and headed for the donkey cart path. Half an hour after lunch Jibbo came and we headed off to visit another village. We drove off the main road and headed back into an outer neighborhood of the city. I figured we would keep going, but this place was where he meant. There supposedly were a lot of Fulani in the area as well as Hausa, but this neighborhood was crowded with Hausa children. They were so curious about the white people that as we waited for someone to come talk with us they crowded a safe distance away to try and see what we were doing. I waved at a few of them; no one waved back. I think they were very scared of me. After a while of waiting and nothing happening, I wanted to go play with the kids. Neither of us spoke any Hausa, but Gail and I tried to get them to play a version of duck duck goose by using a wad of paper and setting it down behind the person that was to chase you. It seemed like a good idea, but the first time we tried to do it all the kids ran away! I’m not kidding! Gail walked around the circle, put the ball behind me, I jumped up to run after her and all the kids got scared and ran away. It was hilarious. We all laughed for a long while! Then, after we got them settled again and I walked around I put the ball behind one of the children and everybody got scared again and ran away! It happened twice! After all the adults that were watching laughed for a long time the kids started to understand the game and we played for a long time. Then we played a new version of Simon says, Tag, hide and seek, and follow the leader. It was great fun! We played for about an hour and then Gail called to me to tell me it was time to go. I said au revoir to all the kids and loaded into the truck. Every child wanted to touch my hand and each one said bon jour and bon soir as if they all spoke french. This just solidified my belief thatGod can use me wherever, even if I don't speak and of the language. The next morning Kris, Baker and Gail headed back to Niamey, allowing me to do some visiting and research in Konni on my own. I asked Aisa to take me to the market to show me where the sellers were that spoke Fulfulde. She said Altine would show me the market. I agreed, and boy I am glad I did. I had a really good time. Altine led the way, not waiting for me to walk with him. That was fine with me. I followed about twenty steps behind him and stopped whenever I felt like it to talk to various women and children; mostly to find out if they spoke Fulfulde. I was able to talk to different people and Altine would stop and wait for me to catch up a little, then continue on. Once we got to the market, Altine took me to a few places that sold mosquito nets; one of my reasons for going to the market. The first place was to expensive, and so I found another vendor to buy from, neither of which spoke Fulfulde. The mosquito net I found was very big, but I figured if I ever wanted to sit in a chair and be protected it would be good to have. I tried to bargain him down, but he didn’t budge. I paid 3000F and said thank you to him. I asked Altine to show me some sellers that spoke Fulfulde, so he brought me to a section of the market, near that back, where eight Fulani women were seated selling their sour milk. I spoke with them for a short while, drank some of the sour milk, and promised to come back and talk to them. We wandered around the market a little more, and then I said goodbye to Altine and continued exploring on my own. I headed to the main road, looking for a cool drink of water. I was very hot from the long walk and the hot, sweaty stalls of the market. The next morning I got ready early and head to the market. I wanted to get there before it was too hot. I had a good time just walking around the streets because everyone was outside and very friendly, even if I did not speak Hausa. I spoke to a few Fulani women as they walked around, met an older man who was from a village north of Tahoua and had a good time talking to them. I walked by a house where I saw two women pounding millet, so I walked in and talked to them for a while. The older woman spoke Fulfulde, but the younger members of her family did not. We spoke for a while and I told them that I would come back to talk to them. I made a mental note of exactly where the house is, behind the market and came upon the road where most of the grain is sold. The women selling grain only spoke Hausa, so I only greeted them and went on my way. I walked around the market, talking to a few sellers, trying to find some that spoke Fulfulde. I talked to some different women that spoke Fulfulde, some younger and some older. They were also selling the sour milk. They, again, were so excited that I spoke their language. I think because not a lot of Africans even speak their language that to see me speaking it was special. God knew what he was doing bringing me here. I can't wait to visit Konni again!