Sarah Erdman's voice rings with a distinct and refreshing intimacy....This book is simply about people and their stories. In the joys and failures of daily routines in a small African village, she finds life itself.” —Peter Hessler, author of Rivertown
“Exemplary...The writing has the narrative pulse of good fiction, and is as absorbing.” —Norman Rush, author of Mortals
“Sarah Erdman has been blessed with these gifts: a fervent curiosity, a generous heart, a lightly self-mocking manner, and a fluent and poetic language...A vivid, at turns hilarious, at turns terrifying, important, and beautiful book.” —Melissa Fay Greene, author of Praying for Sheetrock
“It is rare to be so completely transported to another land....[Erdman's] powers of observation, her prose, and her daring are truly Orwellian.” —Abraham Verghese, author of My Own Country
Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers
You've heard the drill before: A young American travels to Africa to spend two years in the Peace Corps. But this is not the same old story, and Sarah Erdman is not your average writer. Everything about this book rises above its predecessors. Everything.
Erdman fully absorbed the complex culture of the West African village to which she was assigned, and in Nine Hills to Nambonkaha, she shares the gift of her experience, enfolding readers in the place that challenged her, provoked her, and transformed her in memorable ways. Erdman's prose is lucid and rhythmic, her voice comfortable and insightful. Her storytelling? Poetic and superb.
Assigned to a village in northern Côte d'Ivoire, Erdman longs to help the residents overcome the blight of AIDS and poverty, to protect their women from female circumcision, and to promote education to the suffering populace. But the villagers' culture stands outside of time; the same word is used both for "today" and "tomorrow." Into this place, Erdman injects a humble confidence, both passionate yet teachable. With inner strength and honesty, her relationships grow and deepen, and as the villagers struggle to adapt to an ever-encroaching modernity, true friendship seeps warmly onto the page.
Having read this book, it's safe to say that Sarah Erdman is probably a great example of a Peace Corps volunteer. She is certainly a great new writer. (Fall 2003 Selection)
Erdman sets about her incremental work—wheedling mothers to weigh their babies, gently broaching the scandalous topic of AIDS—with the eye of a social scientist and the ear of a poet. It was a long and fascinating trip, and her delightful telling of it has me hoping she'll be packing for another one soon.—Steve Hendrix
A thoughtful memoir of Peace Corps service in West Africa, with all the hallmarks of the subgenre. First-time author Erdman brings a large heart and a sense of humor to her account of her two-year stint in the interior of the Ivory Coast, providing healthcare in a market town in which nothing is quite as it seems. Though Islamic, for instance, the residents of the town were not inclined to take their religion with the grim determination of some of their fellow faithful: "For a small minority of Nambonkaha residents," Erdman writes, "Ramadan is a time of fasting and atonement. For the rest it means a month of talking about fasting that ends in a big party." Like many another Peace Corps memoir, Erdman's tale follows a trajectory that begins with cultural misunderstandings, with an appropriate level of self-pity ("Too much is foreign; too much is missing. I'm all alone surrounded by people"), and that arcs into understanding, acceptance, and friendship. Erdman steers away from the usual pieties, though, and delivers some sharp observations on rural life in Africa while poking fun at herself, e.g., as she confronts a plate of bushrat stew prepared by a local trickster who enjoys her squeamishness: "Ahhhh! La tête! My favorite part! Look, there are its little teeth!" There are plenty of serious moments, though, as when Erdman ponders the astonishing corruption that keeps the Côte d'Ivoire, with an economy that is the third largest in sub-Saharan Africa, impoverished and struggling; the upper class has plenty of money, she notes, but it "never seems to seep through to the rest." By the end of her memoir, Erdman has taken to a more or less relativistic view of such things, and even if theycontinue to bother her, she is fierce in defending the people of the Ivoirian interior from Western misperceptions and stereotypes. Sometimes treacly, but mostly charming. A worthy debut. Agent: William Clark
