Kafka in Niamey

We saw Rich Komp off almost a week ago and have been in a state of agitation, shock, frustration and misery for the entire week. We were forced to come back to the capital, Niamey, by our military escort who would not let us stay at home in my house in Agadez. So we dutifully came back and stayed to pick up Dr. Bob Skankey, his wife and a third volunteer. Because of snows in the east, passports and visas did not get there in time and they were unable to make their flight. We were told we could not reschedule the military escort to go back north so we could not wait for them to change to a later flight. Then when we were ready to leave, they decided we needed authorization from the minister of the interior, the minister of defense and the minister of health in addition to customs, and the haut commandant of special forces in charge of our security. So our plan to leave at 5 AM this morning was dashed. We spent the entire morning being told this is impossible, after everything had been arranged almost a week ago. When finally about 3PM the first domino fell–the ministry of health agreed and soon the others followed. It is a complete mystery why this was not necessary for the last mission, but we, Sol and I are equally stubborn and determined so we sat in musty overstuffed chairs all day waiting for officials to receive us, shake their heads and send us to someone else — but we finally prevailed. Whew. So I hate to say we are leaving tomorrow at 5am because everything could change at 4:30, but we have more hope than ever before.
Our good friend Sue Rosenfeld has been putting us up at her house and probably thinks we have moved in permanently. Not so Sue we will be out of your hair soon. (we hope)
Sol is indistinguishable from a Tuareg and has been given the name of Gishene.