AS I WAS PASSING

VIEW FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RAINBOW

A Journey to West Africa's Last Wild Places

Part one

Travel in West Africa can be quite daunting if not risky at times. It takes tough nerves, guts and planning to explore sub-sahelian Niger beyond its capital Niamey. The moment you are leaving the relative comfort zone of the city for a river tour, you can expect no more doctors, mechanics, pharmacies, and shops - not even potable water.  

French-born Jean-Claude Berronet, who has made Niamey his retirement home, is definitely the man to organise a river safari to W National Park.
  
Indeed, I was very lucky to hear about Jean – Claude's Niger River Tours for he does not no marketing, neither in Niamey nor overseas. Still, bush drums here in Africa work miraculously well in this part of the world. It was partly thanks to a friend’s phone message –– asking me whether I wanted to join a couple of tourists doing a two day pirogue tour along the river towards W National Park.  As you would expect, I jumped at the opportunity for I had just read several interesting articles written by Joost Brouwer, soil scientist and founder of the NiBDaD (Niger Bird Data Base - www.africanbirdclub.org

Especially Brower’s articles in the Bradt Tourist Guide (the first guide in English printed in 2006 about Niger) about Niger’s rich birdlife had caught my imagination.  His insider knowledge about Niger’s biodiversity, agriculture and environmental issues wetted my appetite for an adventure that promised camping in the wilderness, exploring native villages and - most importantly - observe and discover the rich and varied wildlife of the unique wetlands that run along the Niger River.

So – quite unprepared and still a little jet-lagged for such an expedition at 7 o’clock on Friday morning I found myself in a “mangotier”, a shady garden filled with shady mango trees, stepping gingerly on board a large pirogue. 

Our group on the vessel was varied and colourful. Of course, there was our guide, Jean-Claude, a man of great charm and resource and an expert on everything that lives in and along the river, my fellow travellers Dominique, and his friend Hauke, a young German. We foreigners, “les Blancs” – as we are called here, were supplemented by the local crew: Moussa, a young man with many skills and the boat’s pilot. Both men, local boys, one young, one elderly, are almost certainly born on the river itself.

Our pirogue – a large canoe made of curved planks - was furnished with matrasses and soft cushions. Every available space beyond our day beds was packed with provisions that had to sustain us for the next two days. A shade roof protected us from the already harsh rays of the Nigerian sun.

Very soon after we left the shores of the mango garden, we passed the island next to  the Kennedy Bridge in Niamey, where in the past crocodiles used to be worshipped. Moussa serves us small glasses of steaming tea: “Have some tea, Madame. It’s bitter like death, sweet like love,” he says and grins charmingly.

For a moment I have flashbacks that take me back to the time of the early African explorers. I am thinking of Stanley and Dr Livingstone  who never exerted themselves all that much physically. Half reclining on our cushions we were watching idly the activities on and along the banks of the river: fisherman in small dugout plying their trade, gardeners watering their vegetables, man and women washing clothes and children bathing and splashing in the cool water. Large trading pirogues filled to overflowing with pumpkins of all sizes and shapes, their yellow skins glinting in the early morning light pass us by on the way to the markets.

Our pirogue putters along downstream at a pleasant speed . We pass the gleaming white residence of the President, La Corniche de Gamkally, where we almost found a house with river glimpses. I wave good bye to Le Grand Hotel de Niger and then we leave all civilization behind.

Part two

I know of some women who would rather run the risk of disgracing themselves than asking for a toilet stop. Jean-Claude must have anticipated our physical needs.  It was midmorning by now and he told our pilot to steer our pirogue shorewards.  We step into a magic land. I almost forgot my longing for the privacy of my pristine bathroom at the Grand Hotel for a wondrous sight unfolded before my eyes.

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Lush wetlands stretched to the horizon, sedges and flowering water lilies shimmered in the heat under a hazy blue sky. I was suddenly feeling very hot, but in Niger’s dry climate perspiration evaporates before it even leaves one’s pores. As I went about my business ‘yoga-style’, hiding from view behind a thorny acacia tree, a swarm of white egrets landed right next to me.

Water birds of all descriptions,  plovers, pied king fishers and herons paused among seductive greenery and feasted on the rich smorgasboard of billions of insects. My mates were bustling about to take snapshots with their digital cameras. Bright red dragonflies swirled across the wetlands, so numerous that later I have difficulties to choose the best photo to keep.

“This is the Africa I love”, sighed Dominique and we all shared his emotion. Shortly, almost reluctantly we left this paradise to continue our journey towards Say. It is here, in this market town where the metal road from Niamey ends. 

Immediately upon our arrival at the boat landing in Say we were surrounded by half-naked urchins dressed in rags. Little children, snot sticking to their faces, were begging for anything we might be willing to share: "Cadeau, cadeau!" they called out shrilly.

Next to our pirogue a dozen young men, their skins glistening in the harsh sunlight, tried to load a heavy and very battered pick-up truck onto a barge.  It was apparent that none of them had the slightest concept on how to go about it. After a few trials, gripping the truck by its railings and almost ripping them off,  they eventually  discovered that the vehicle may be far too heavy to be lifted onto the barge. My mates shook their heads incredulously but I noticed that they too had no idea. Unfortunately we had to press on. I am still wondering today whether they succeeded somehow.

Part 3

Detachment from my English speaking world and assimilation into a French speaking culture does not come in a day.  At times I found it difficult to follow Jean-Claude’s encyclopaedic knowledge about the multitude of tribes that live and trade along this formidable river. Dominique, fortunately speaks fluent German.

“Well, that’s anything than roughing it”. I thought and I smiled at Jean-Claude at our next stop.  It was lunchtime and we’ve already had a refreshing glass of fine Pastis on board. Moussa and our pilot were unloading a table, chairs, tablecloth, ice boxes, plates, glasses and cutlery. We were about to have “dejeuner” or more to the point: a three course lunch ‘French style’.

Our picnic area was an idyllic spot and the scenery magical: close to the shore grew thorny acacia trees with their feathery dusky-green leaves and tall camel’s foot trees full of ripening seed pods; scarlet red fire finches and  metallic blue long-tailed starlings flittied through the ubiquieteous tiger bush.  Sheltering us from the millet fields behind us were laterite rocks. Several huge baobab trees thrived on these rocky outcrops, their bare branches and large green fruits silhouetted against a dusky sky. Though the thermometer must have hit more than 35-degrees,  in the shade of the large trees it felt deliciously cool by this formidable river, and there were no mosquitoes at all.

posted by: Lewana at November 13, 2007 20:54 | link | comments (2) |
africa, boattour on the niger, niger river tour

Comments:

#1  16 November 2007 - 14:18

 

Because I just finished grading freshman travelogues, this post of yours takes my breath away. You've transported us all out of our ordinary mornings. Thank you.

InMyLife

#2  16 November 2007 - 19:32

 

Thank you, IML for reading and commenting on my latest post from one of the most fascinating places I have ever lived in.

Life here in Niger is a challenge - even for a "tough old hen" who has been a globetrotter for most of her life.

I really appreciate your encouraging comments.

And truely, I don't feel quite as isolated in the 'back of beyond, if you guys share my observations and perhaps - sometimes - give some thought about the tribes who live and deal with abject poverty and yet are able to smile and laugh ..

Life for me here in Niger is really demanding, emotionally touching, and at times it is difficult to cope with situations where i.e. children are starvingright under your nose and you are in no position to help at all.

Starvation and deadly deseases are nothing new in Africa and it happens all the time.

One reads the statistics and knows that the little one's are the first to go without food or medicines.

Africans are pragmatic people and they know, even the mothers, that you can always replace a child.

That's the way it is here - yet the brutal confrontation with the misery I observed on my recent trip has hit me hard..

Lewana

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