Hello everyone!
Just in Cotonou for a Dentist appointment and wanted to send off some emails I'd typed up while I've had Danielle's (my postmate's) laptop on loan for the week while she's been at her IST (In Service Training) . Also since she's gone, I am border than usual, so have more time to write a more personal and quotidian email that doesn't try to squash 3 months of my life into one mass mailed letter. So recent happenings with me: Since getting back from my holiday travels and IST I've been feverishly trying to get my house back in livable conditions-which means my exciting weekends as of late consist of consecutive days of cleaning and sweeping every square inch of my house that has been doused by red dust and sand from the Sahara desert Harmatton winds. This is all good and well and to be expected, but my accumulating hand blisters (result of overuse of my palm tree branch of a broom) are getting in the way of my laundry days. I've come to enjoy hand washing my clothes. Now that I have music to listen to its actually quite a relaxing and therapeutic activity. But not when having to submerse my broom blisters and hand sores in dirty, soapy water. So long dainty baby soft hands… C'est la vie en Afrique though right?? Other fun and exciting things I fill my weekends up with are gecko wars. I generally don't have a problem with them-as long as they keep to themselves and don't mess with me we're able to live a fairly peaceful coexistence-plus they eat all the bugs and spiders in my house so up until now they've been good friends of mine. But lately these little buggers have become quite cocky-trying to come onto my little porch in my presence as I attempt to stare them away as a nonviolent tactic to standing my ground. Truth is, they're starting to freak me out-there are just so many of them and they're so Big-they're like tiny dinosaurs-I'm serious! And lately, I've been increasingly concerned about them staging a coup to takeover my house and attack me in my sleep. So this morning one fell on my face and I flipped out, shrieking like a 5 year old who'd just seen her beloved puppy blown to smithereens. I dunno what my problem is-I mean, what kind of person is scared of the Geico spokesperson species?? So this evening I spent most of my time throwing stuff at geckos who kept trying to creep into my house in my presence. Maybe the reason I'm so grossed out by them recently has to do with the latest body count of them I found when I came back home from my travels. For some reason or another handfuls of geckos decided to make my house their last resting place-leaving me to pick up their soft, dried up remains. But that's not even the worst part. What's really gross about it all is that some of them had already started decomposing so their innards were getting all mushy and sticking to my already mysteriously (though not so much now) concrete floor. Sick. OK-sorry-this of all things may not be the kind of thing you actually signed up to read when you opened this email. But this being a typical evening for me, I'm very bored like I said, and want to take advantage of having the rarity of a computer at my disposal to type down the many bizarre reflections I make throughout my day. I think it's funny that I get news from all of you about work, social life, and domestic politics, and I send you emails about my ridiculous fears of a gecko coup and my current body count of dead things I've scraped off my floors. So in between chucking inanimate objects at tiny dinosaur-like creatures in my yard, I realized that I had just passed my 6-months-since-being-here-postmark and began reflecting on what 2008 might be like and how I felt about the upcoming new year. The first thing that I was thinking was that this year will be unlike any other year in that it will be my 1st full year abroad by myself. I was also thinking about how surreal it is to be here for me still. Sometimes its "Oh-My-God-What-Have-I-Gotten-Myself-Into" kind of surrealism, but lately it's been more and more of the "I'm-Actually-Living-My-Dream-Job" surrealism. I'm thinking, I'm hoping at least, that I've gotten through the most difficult hurdles-the first 3 months at Post (in village) are supposedly the hardest according to the other PCV's in country. At this point I've already had it beaten into my head that Peace Corps West Africa isn't going to be anything remotely like any of the other Peace Corps experiences I've heard about (namely those in the more preferable, picturesque surroundings like Costa Rica, Vanuatu, or the Pacific Islands)-so I'm not expecting a huge turnaround of fun and spectacular events-and I'm fine with that. I didn't want your typical everyday tourist experience. But the first couple months of accepting that this very atypical place of choice to live would be inescapable for the next 2+ years was admittedly, a little jarring. But I think I've finally come around and gotten past the hardest phase of adjustment. I'm finding myself able to recall what lead me here in the first place and appreciate more and more things about my life here everyday. I remember all the times I'd sat in my classes or at home watching movies and reading books about different countries in Africa and all of the allure they held for me. I spent So much time daydreaming about doing something just like this-seeing and experiencing a drastically different culture first hand, connecting and having real relationships with the people living here, and being able to experience the hardships and literally see the problems people are up against instead of only being able to read about them. I remember how frustrated I was throughout college doing all these country studies that seemed so wasteful since we weren't actually able to do anything about the problems once we'd exhausted research finding out about them. Having such a devastating array of impoverished and unjustly dealt with societies unveiled to me and then not being able to have any outlet whatsoever to get involved and at least have the consolation of feeling like I could help, was about as tortuous to me as looking through fashion magazines here now (ironically). Even with my new found appreciation for Glamour magazine and America's consumer and technological convenience, I'm finally feeling the excitement of realizing that I'm really Here-doing exactly what I've wanted to do for so long. I'm sure I've written some pretty mournful letters and emails about missing life back at home-and I definitely do still have those moments, but despite those, I am finally realizing how amazingly lucky I am to be here and be doing what I'd been lusting after for so long now. It's such a relief to be released from the whole Grass-Is-Greener-On-The-Other-Side-Syndrome and to see this great opportunity for what its worth. That's not to say that it's all sunshine and smiles now-that would be quite an exaggeration-but I think it's safe to say that I've finally adapted to the rotation of physical discomfort and loneliness that for awhile I was afraid would pull me down. It's an exciting revelation for me to make-albeit a little embarrassing as I would've like this gratitude to have come more naturally and quickly for me, but I'm happy to be gaining better perspective about life here at any rate. So hopefully 2008 will bring continued optimism and better gecko control. In the meantime, (between gecko fighting and palm tree branch sweeping) I've been perfecting my spider nest burning skills and have been brainstorming new defense tactics for ridding my home of the numerous critters that have begun to overrun it. Oh yeah, and there's the other tiny little thing that I suppose I'm here to do also-work. I'm hoping to get started on research with my International NGO soon too. Its still kind of tricky since I'm the only one in the country who's working for this NGO and everyone else is in the States, and incidentally this particular country doesn't have the best or most reliable communication resources, but I'm taking it a day at a time and staying busy with my local NGO while I wait to here from Project Bokonon. Oh-side note-if for any reason you're t-shirt or gift shopping-I have some good friends in country-3 Americans from Florida who are doing this Independent documentary on child trafficking in Benin (which is a huge problem as Benin is both source, transit point, and target market for all of the child trafficking that is going on in West Africa). They are incredibly ambitious and hard working (all of them literally sold everything they owned to come here and start up this project) and have been remarkably successful with their project especially considering all of the cultural and language barriers they've had to break down within the last 4 months. So if you're in the market for a cool looking graphic designed (by one of the filmmakers) t shirt or gift for someone check out their website –www.unseenstories.com- and email them to order a shirt (I think $7 goes to the manufacturers American Apparel and the remaining $8 goes to fund this independently financed documentary). Sorry for the plug-just thought I'd throw it out there as an idea just in case though. Ok-finally callin it quits for tonight. Hope you're all doing great and are well! I apologize for the boredom that generates these ridiculously long and introspective emails-I know you've got better things to do with your time-but since I don't, this is what I come up with! Love you all tons and hope to hear from yall too! All my love, Sunny
Beninese Dress
Beninese clothing is interesting to put it mildly. The traditional clothing is made from "tissue" (meaning fabric) and is brightly colored (read: tacky-as in neon green mixed with construction cone orange and bright purple). These intensely colored patterns on "tissue" include, but are not limited to, simple geometric figures like giant triangles and octagons, religious symbols like the Virgin Marie, questionable images of bleeding tree stumps and severed hands, technology themed prints of telescopes and cell phones, and utterly random patterns like chickens giving birth to live chicks, grenades, Christmas lights, beating hearts, large prawn, and cuckoo clocks. Once in while one may come across a pattern that is actually pretty (like normal looking flowers, or some other more subtle pattern like stripes or polka dots) but more likely than not patterns and colors of tissue are downright bizarre and highly entertaining. Once tissue is bought (by the meter) it is taken to the "culturier" (taylor) to be made into one of many traditional styles of clothing (but all styles have matching tops and bottoms-meaning Lots of the same tacky material completely covering your body). Most commonly women wear "Models" (pronounced moe-dells)-which are short or long sleeve type blouses, many times decorated with "pretty" puffy sleeves (a la 80's inspired fashion) or also "pretty" giant lace collars (like the kind our kindergarten teacher's wore in the early 90's). The second half of a "Model" is a separate long skirt that is either a wrap around or in the "fish tail" style (think, literally-mermaid tail shaped skirts-tight at the butt and dramatically flared out at the feet). If a woman really wants to get all decked out, she sports a "beautiful" fula-a hair wrap/hat type thing that kind of resembles a really shiny upside down lamp shade. I have a couple of these "Models" (no upside down lamp shades though)-none of which I picked out myself- resulting in really "pretty" puffy sleeves (a la Minnie Mouse mode) and really "pretty" colored tissue (one is camouflage patterned except the colors are neon green, neon yellow, and brown)- they were gifts made for me specially, from my host family and from the local NGO I work for. Traditional men's wear is made out of tissue too (the fabric for both the top and bottom are the same as well). It is called a "Bumba" (pronounced boom-ba) and is much easier to describe as it is pretty much just like a pajama set of long pj pants and a long sleeve matching tunic type shirt. I once saw a man wearing a Bumba made entirely out of bright yellow lace. He looked like Big Bird. Traditional clothing, though considered very fashionable and "high class", can be very entertaining, whether it's coming across a woman proudly wearing a head to toe outfit made entirely out of fabric patterned in neon pink toaster ovens with wings sprouting out of their sides, or if it's the village king nobly blessing his citizens as he sports a baby chicken and bowtie pasta patterned attire. However, this is not the most entertaining Beninese dress at all. Even more amusing are the Beninese mixtures of Western clothing (brought in from donations from NGO's or missionaries-there are no clothing stores you can just pop into to buy a "normal" cotton tee or pair of jeans-they are all second, or more likely third or fourth hand clothes that are sold on the streets only in the big cities). These Western clothes-judging from expired brands like "Umbro" and old logos of "Jordache" or "Guess", come undoubtedly from the 80's and 90's era-where Hammer pants ruled and shiny stretchy fabric looked pretty on anything from bodysuits to ruffly dresses, and people thought leopard print looked good on anything. Oh yes-the Beninese have style down to a tee. Nothing tops off your Western inspired Beninese outfit of an Argyle sweater, paired with tapered and pleated black jeans, and a tweed vest, more than the fashionable hats they Love to wear. Anything from front turned up hats with giant fake flowers glued on ("Blossom" style), to giant yarn knitted baby bonnets, to Easter hats for little girls, to Santa Claus hats, to Marijuana leaf patterned cowboy hats-are popular on men and women alike (though mostly worn by men as they are the ones driving the motorcycles and they must keep their hands from getting cold-as if that could happen in blazing-hot West Africa). Traditional dress of matching tissue is the most common form of dress though-everyone has at least one Model or Bumba, and it is worn at work or for celebrations-for professional and nice attire. Western mélanges of outfits are more typically worn by the younger, "hipper" crowds in urban areas. In village however, dress tends to become less ornate and much scarcer. Women in village (and smaller towns like Pobé) are often topless-wearing just a wrap around piece of fabric and usually no shoes. Men in contrast usually are fully clothed-unless you're the village fu that is (local crazy guy) in which case you can run around stark naked screaming at people. Beninese Food Food, as many of you know, is a very coveted and critical aspect of my life. Despite my lack of culinary skill, I have a passion for savoring delicious delicacies and yummy cuisine that rivals my wanderlust for travel and adventure. However, as I was quick to find out during my first week in Benin, food here is Nothing like I hoped or expected it to be. Reading West African guidebooks and the one book I could find on Benin, I was promised some fascinating corn mill mixture (I was thinking more along the lines of tamales) with lots of enticing vegetable sauces and interesting new meats to acquaint myself with. I was anticipating a healthy diet full of tons of tropical fruit, fresh vegetables, and lots of protein (since I decided to put the vegetarianism on hold and partake in some adventurous meat eating). However, I came to find out that food here is neither healthy, nor varied. Firstly let me begin with explaining the basics of food in Benin. For one-none of the food that I will mention is like any of the food with the same name in the States. Oranges for example are not orange-they are green, or sometimes yellow. That goes for bananas as well-they are usually green and the size of my finger (very small). Sweet potatoes in Benin, while sweet, are not orange or big either-they are small and white. Yams are also quite different-they are huge-the size of a large thigh (sorry for the weird visual-it's the only thing I can think of that's the size of yams here).The list goes on though-but suffice it to say that none of the food here is Anything like the food back at home. The "fascinating corn mill mixture" turns out to be pâte (pronounced-Pot)-and is the staple food of Benin. There is white pâte, black pâte, red pâte, pâte made from manioc, pâte made from yam, and pâte from corn. Pâte Rouge (red pâte) is actually really good (according to my taste buds). But regardless, pâte is eaten with everything at every meal (if you can stomach it). It is a pretty simple mixture of flour ground from either manioc, yam, or more commonly, corn. The consistency is…gooey. Though the flavor is pretty bland-as its just a simple white starch- its the consistency that is really the acquired taste. The sauce that accompanies it is palm oil (the other staple in Beninese food and diets) based and is also of a slimy consistency, usually made from completely boiled down okra, tomatoes, hot pepper, or other dark leafy vegetables which, after being cooked for several hours, is completely void of any nutritional value. A typical meal consists of this pâte and sauce-and if your lucky-a boiled or deep fried egg or fried piece of fish (bones included and meant to be eaten) that is sitting in a bowl of more oil. This gooey/slimy mixture of food gets really interesting when you realize that your expected to eat it with your fingers (of your right hand only-thankfully I'm not a lefty, otherwise I'd be permanently sauce stained everyday of my life here). Although this is the typical Beninese meal, there are other foods. French baguettes, Beans (also swimming in palm oil), agouti (jungle rat-yumm, and yes I've tried it), chicken, goat, rice, noodles (which are included in anything from sandwiches, to eggs, to rice and beans), and Igame Pilet (pronounced yam pee-lay-which is kind of like a gooey version of mashed potatoes) also dominate the Beninese palate. And though there is accessible protein like agouti, goat, and chicken, you have to buy it live, kill it, pluck/skin it, gut it, and eat the whole thing in one sitting (since there is no refrigerator to save leftovers in) if you want meat, and since I rarely have the money or time to do all that-I usually opt for eggs (which have to be sterilized before you let it touch anything since it literally comes straight out of a chicken and into your hand-none of this cleaned and in a Styrofoam cart business). Vegetables and cheese are a little tricky too. Vegetables other than tomatoes, onions, hot peppers, and okra (which are ubiquitous in the South)-are a rare and expensive commodity to find. But they all have to be completely disinfected as well since fertilizer here is often of both the animal and human kind (one of the volunteers from my Health training sectors got medically evacuated as a result of an Ecoli infection). This involves scrubbing them down with antibacterial soap and then soaking them in bleach water for 15 or so minutes (most volunteers have already resigned themselves to the fact that if we don't die in country from falling off our motos, catching rabies, or one of the many fatal bacterial infections here-that we'll all end up with intestinal cancer from the immense amount of bleach we'll have ingested by the time our two years is up). Cheese likewise has to be disinfected as it has tuberculosis in it- this is done simply by boiling it for 20 minutes-and, since cheese here is nothing like cheese in the states, its state of matter stays exactly the same and does not melt (it kind of looks like a white hamburger patty of cottage cheese). Other popular eating trends are big giant pieces of fried dough, either in "elephant ear" form (just large oddly shaped pieces of fried dough), or in big round ball form. This fried dough is made just like a doughnuts minus the sugar but dripping in oil. They are eaten all day long-for breakfast with bouillie ( this breakfast broth that is really just a mixture of hot water, flour, sugar, sweetened condensed milk, and sometimes tapioca), for snacks in between meals, and with the palm oil sauces that accompany everything else. Peanuts are also really big here (as are cashews, but less so than peanuts). They come boiled, roasted, sugar coated, in peanut cluster like balls held together by caramel, or in peanut butter balls that are sweet, salty or spicy, in peanut sauce, and in peanut oil. Equally popular, and also falling under the Beninese consumption title, is drinking. Even coming straight from my over 21 and legal college life of bar hopping and wine tasting-I've never seen so much alcohol consumed in one day. One can start their morning off with a shots of Sodabe (the local palm liquor-Beninese moonshine) and continue throughout the day on beer, wine, and other liquors without any of the alcoholic connotations that would accompany such behavior in the U.S.. In fact, it is expected! Upon entering the house of someone you are visiting, or starting a meeting, or (especially) celebrating anything from an anniversary or funeral, or just a Sunday dinner-one is expected to partake in at least one or two shots of the 100 proof Sodabe, before imbibing in the several large bottles of Beninese or Nigerian beer that is pushed on to you. If you're lucky, they will spare you the delightful mixture of wine and Coke. This makes for some really fun and unpredictable times. Take last week for example when I was invited to a Saturday lunch that turned into a 7 hour drinking marathon where my overly generous host demanded several a shot to be taken by me along with full glasses of 90 proof liquor, wine, and bottles of beer (not to worry- I'm mastering the art of pouring to the gods-a custom where one is supposed to pour a little of their drink on the ground as an offering to the ancestors-a straight out refusal to drink would be a big cultural offense so I just stick to this method of ancestral indulgence ). The night ended with me having to waltz to songs like "Silent Night", "Toxic" by Britney Spears, and "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira. Ohhh Benin. Things You Can't Do in Benin -wear things like miniskirts, or low cut tops (unless you want to put yourself out there for public solicitation- in which case its completely acceptable&normal) -wear stilettos (unless you wanna break your neck and/or impale all the geckos and goats in your wake) -walk through the streets being a foreigner and not expect to have "Yovo" yelled at you at least 10 times (meaning literally white person-which refers to anyone who isn't Beninese black) -drink the water (mine is brown) -tell people you're not religious (they won't believe you) -talk about homosexuality (its illegal here and completely taboo) -keep bottles (after softdrinks or beers are purchased at a buvette (a bar) the bottles must be returned) -use your left hand (though people are generally more forgiving with foreigners) -wash your intimate apparel in front of others or even worse-hang it up to dry outside -talk directly about sex (how convenient-considering that's a specific job description of mine) -give strangers your number (because they Will call you and text you weird things at weird hours of the night) -throw your trash in a public trash pile (it must be burned. Children are Extremely curious about foreigners and you will indefinitely see some child rooting around in your trash bag and stuffing dirty things that are not meant to be touched in their pockets to play with later) -run after it rains (you Will fall down. In the mud. Face first.) Things You Can Do in Benin -pick your nose in public (or if you do like some of the little boys and men look like they're doing here-stick your entire fist into your face and try to pick your brain) -pee in public -see goats..Everywhere -see chickens with hair weaves -eat with your hands (or hand, rather) -kill your dinner (and see what your dinner had for dinner) -walk around topless (though we aren't allowed to wear tube tops and camisoles??? Logical? No-but Benin nonetheless) -walk around pantless (if and only if you're under the age of 7-or a male widely known as having one two many screws loose-but still, a uniquely acceptable activity in Benin for these sectors of society) -eat exorbitant amounts of white carbs and oil without anyone mentioning the word "Atkins" or "heart-attack" to you -go for days without eating an actual vegetable (vegetable sauce that is 90% palm oil and that has been cooked down for half a day doesn't count) and have a legitimate excuse for doing so -find things that the FDA would never approve of-like tuberculosis or E-coli in your food -find animals you never knew existed living inside of your food -See goats smaller than cats and snails bigger than your Dad's fist -spend hours doing things that in the States take all of 5 minutes or half an hour-like washing your clothes or preparing a meal ( this can literally take all day-between having to walk to all the different ladies houses or food stands to buy all your ingredients every time you want to cook something since you don't have a fridge to keep stuff nicely stored and at arms reach and since there is no grocery store afterall- and then picking all the bugs and rocks out of your food after buying it and finally desterilizing it all before trying to figure out a way to cook it without an oven or grill) -cook food by headlamp or candlelight without feeling like a complete weirdo -take showers outside under the stars
Happy (a little belated) Holidays to everyone!
Heres a little update about whats been happening with me recently: My Christmas season has been spent with the local NGO that Im working with, which has kept me busy organizing and preparing for a huge Christmas party they throw for the village orphans in the surrounding area every year-we've been making food arrangements and coordinating donations and wrapping tons of presents (which include a melange of things ranging from bags of rice, to clothes, and toys), so despite ever increasing heat and a general un-Christmas like environment, it definitely helped get me in the holiday spirit. I went on a sort of orphan-fete tour-making my way to 4 other orphanages across Benin to serve food, hand out presents, and play with the kids with a group of other volunteers. So from the 22nd of December through the 26th I was traveling around working-a different type of Chrismas but probably one of the most gratifying holidays I've spent yet. It was really interesting, albeit depressing to see such an array of living facilities and physical conditions of the orphans in Benin. Equally intriguing was getting to meet the Beninese Papa Noel (Santa Claus)-who ended up being a much more frightening version of our Ole St.Nick (think a much thinner, much whiter, Chinese Opera masked guy wearing a florescent red fuzzy costume being toted around in a spruced up wheel barrow). The kids proved to be much happier, and braver (considering their gift bearer and the striking resemblence he had to a crazed psycho maniac) than I ever could have hoped to be under their circumstances. It was really fun to play with them and be affectionate with the kids though, especially upon seeing how attention deprived and hungry they are-but also daunting to realize how many challenges theyll be up against as the years go by-both health and education wise. New Year's feting involved me and some other volunteers getting together for festivities based on-what else but food! Cotonou-a city of filth and chaos does prove to be good for one thing-an abundance and wide array of all the food that is never available in smaller towns and villages like my own. So in our quest to scrounge up enough food for 6 American food craving volunteers-we had to set off early in the morning. Finding food in Benin is no easy feat. It involves dodging cars and motorcycles coming at you in all directions, fighting with zem drivers and barking down ridiculous prices people try to pull on you. Then there's the trudge of walking from vending lady to vending lady across multiple winding neighborhoods and incredibly dangerous highways hugging large, cumbersome, and scratchy cement bags full of your accumulating purchases to your chest not knowing if the next vending lady your in search for and have walked 45 minutes to find even has any of the produce your looking for left to sell. Never would I have thought I'd ever say this-but man oh man do I miss Wal Mart and all its consumer convenience some days. So while simple food shopping is incredibly tedious and exhausting work requiring high levels of patience and cooperative weather, its absolutely rewarding when after 4 hours of laborious cooking without a real oven or kitchen sink, to have homemade eggplant marinara sauce, 7 layer bean dip, banana bread, chocolate fudge cookies, and guacamole awaiting you for your full consumption. So despite being eaten alive by bugs while sharing a single mat with another person and sweating through the same dirty clothes for 3 days straight to wake up to dead cockroaches surrounding me, New Years Eve in Benin, even compared to my last in Italy, was definitely another fete to remember. Oh-almost left out the most interesting part of my New Year's Eve-our befriending of a cosmopolitan Rastafarian named Alex-one of the most intriguing characters I have ever met. Alex and his beautiful locks of dreaded hair was the most polished and decadently dressed Rasta I have ever met-wearing a leopard print turtleneck, fake Prada sunglasses, black crocodile skinned boots, and an amazing fashion runway belt that had a buckle whose pictures changed to different models sporting different designer labels. Absolutely fabulous. We (the other volunteers and I) had the pleasure of hanging out and sharing some drinks with him where he proceeded to preach to us about his Rasta spiritual beliefs, alternatingly reciting Celine Dion lyrics that were playing in the background of the seedy little dive bar we were in, and trying to provoke intellectual debates with me. The best part of our rendezvous was when he blessed us with his beer-pouring it on to the ground and dipping his thumb into the beer and bar floor grime mixture and slabbing it onto our foreheads into a symbol I couldn't accurately make out for lack of concentration as my attention was focused on what types of people come to this bar, what they might be carrying on the bottoms of their shoes, and how these germs had just been transferred to my face. Nevertheless making the acquaintance of our new friend Alex was yet another memorable experience to our holiday journey through Benin. So thats my most recent holiday news from West Africa-a little bizarre as always, but did you really expect anything else from me?
(Update from November)
Recent news from Benin: getting desecrated on by a turkey, climbing a giant trash pile, being proposed to by village chiefs, and getting my big toe blessed by a local witch doctor have been the some of the latest news from Thanksgiving. About 2 months ago I got a chance to go to Cotonou for the day for vaccines and to pick up some food (that isnt available in Pobé) and mail (which has been a God-send-thank you all so much! it is such a Treat to get news from the outside world!) Work has been going well. I really love what Im doing-and though my nights are oftentimes hard to get through with boredom and loneliness setting in-the things Im doing at work are rewarding enough to motivate me through the next day.Currently Im working with a local health NGO doing baby weighing where we go from village to village to weigh babies, children, and other villagiouse in order to look for signs of and record malnutrition in the rural areas and to hand out vitamins and nutritional supplementation. So Thanksgiving in Benin I ended up staying with a group of other volunteers in the country-some American filmmakers here doing a documentary on child trafficking in Benin, a Fulbright Scholar researching education reform, and other Peace Corps Volunteers and some of their friends visiting them for the holidays. Besides the obvious luxury of having someone other than myself to hang out with and see friends I hadn't seen since Training-the food brought from all around the country was a much needed break from the everyday diet of white starches and fried things that are so ubiquitous in my town. Between the 15 or so of us we had a marvelous compilation of all sorts of attempts of replicating American goodies: sweet potatoes (made from Beninese sweet potatoes which aren't the orange colored oval shaped sweet potatoes you all are familiar with), pies and cakes (ingredients sent courtesy of family from back home in the States), salad (the first I'd had in about 3 months!), and a turkey that survived the trek all the way through a 10+ hour bus and moto ride from the North of Benin to be slaughtered and deliciously prepared in Ketou (the town we had Thanksgiving in). After gorging ourselves with "real" food for the first time in months, we headed over to spend the night at another volunteers house Peace Corps style-which entails setting up an assembly line of help to bail enough well water out for everyone to take a bucket shower before lining up like sardines to sleep on bamboo mats outside or if your lucky, a cot made out of a giant rice sack (actually really comfortable, comparably that is). The next day we headed out to see the infamous Ketou Trash Pile- a giant 40 foot mound of filth that has required a reputation apparently worthy of bringing tourists from near and far.This outing proved to be possibly one of the grossest things I've ever voluntarily put myself through-oh the things you do in Benin to keep yourself entertained… But then again I thought-when else am I ever going to have the opportunity and excuse to hike on a mountain made from things normal people wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole?? Things really got interesting upon descending from the Ketou Trash Pile- the villagers, and apparent guardians of the Trash Pile swarmed upon us and began getting quite irate at us for climbing what they deemed as a sacred monument, and demanded we pay our due respects. Obligingly, we stood around staring inquisitively at eachother as the lady in charge began to ceremoniously pour out water and bless each of our big toes. Lacking the traditional livestock sacrifice we each threw what little money we had on the ground and gathered together for a group picture the villagers wanted to take of us and went on our way. An strange Thanksgiving, but eventful nonetheless.
Hello everyone, Sunny sent me this this morning--I haven't had a chance to go through it and make the formatting pretty but wanted to get it up. Everyone have a safe weekend! Write Sunny letters!
Hello! Recent updates from me: work is going well-I'm staying busy learning to make nutritionally supplemented food and going to the surrounding villages with the local NGO here. Today I spent 7 hours shucking corn, hand picking it off the cob and picking out bugs and rocks from it before we took it to be ground into corn mill. Bizarre, yes, but it is just one of several activities I've participated in to supply food for the malnourished population here. Besides that we visit a lot of different villages, doing things like testing iodine in salt (lack of iodine-which causes things like goiters-is one of many health problems here) and doing "sensibilizations"-which are essentially lessons of prevention and education on anything from basic sanitation like washing your hands before you eat, to sex ed about HIV/AIDS transmission. Its great work for me in that every day is different-which is something I need. I do Not do well with monotonous cubicle work. Visiting the villages is my favorite part though-it's a completely different feel-a lot more scenery (think lush images of infinite palm trees and banana trees) and I'm able to see things I otherwise would never see in Pobe-some of them exciting and beautiful, others disturbingly depressing. On my most recent trip to village, I saw snakes for the first time, in multitudes slithering aimlessly and dodging the wheels of the motorcycle I was riding on. I'd known there were many different types of snakes here-we'd been given a couple safety classes on how to identify them and what to do if we were bitten-but this was the first time I'd seen any with my own eyes. The man I was riding on the motorcycle with told me they were delicious. I wouldn't know yet, but I'm sure it'll just be a matter of time. Other things I get to see in village are different types of scarification-the beauty marks made with the use of a razor and sometimes ink, on the face, arms, and or body. Scarification is common in Benin, and helps keep different lineages and tribes distinct-I think its really beautiful actually-the designs are (usually) a very simple pattern of shallow incisions topped off by black ink that is just dark enough to create a subtle imprint-three horizontal lines under a cheekbone, or symmetrical stripes across both arms. But it does have its risks-the sharing of razor blades during the ceremony where the scarification is given is often times a medium for the transmission of HIV/AIDS-and since many people do not own their own razors and tradition dictates that the razors used for scarification be shared between tribal members-it adds just another complexity to improving health situations in the remoter villages. Other things I have come across in village are girls, as young as 11 or 12, who are well into their second or third trimester of pregnancy. A common and accepted aspect of village life, this is one of the hardest for me to see. Knowing that these young girls did not become pregnant by choice and that most likely, given both their isolated location far away from any proper medical facilities and they're young age and bodies, they and their babies are unlikely to survive. It's a very difficult thing to see, acknowledge, and accept a fate so bleak, and so up close and personal. But along with lack of water source, unsanitary waste management, and a whole host of other deeply entrenched traditions and behaviors that work against health and hygiene, I guess these comprise the reasons why we're doing the work we're doing here. A side from work and the coupled enjoyment and sadness I get out of it, I'm gradually adjusting to life here. I know I've said this before, but things are much harder here than Id ever imagined-but not for any of the reasons people think they are. The lack of luxuries and conveniences-namely AC, electricity, running water, reliable transportation (or roads-which don't really exist here)- and all the discomforts-like the inescapable heat, humidity and filth I am cloaked in 24/7, the stench of fecal matter (from both animal and human), bugs, and body sores (blisters, cuts, burns, you name it)-are the easiest part of life. To be honest none of the above really bother me anymore. Mostly I just don't let myself think about them-I'm perfecting the art of ignoring physical pain and discomforts from my mind. The one and only thing that remains my greatest challenge has been the feeling of homesickness and a feeling guilt that I have from leaving everyone who means so much to me at home. For now at least, I'm just waiting, practicing a lot of patience and faith that once I give it time, the heartache of not being able to visit my Grandmother, or play with my little sisters, or hang out with friends on the weekend, will eventually subside and be replaced with the stronger desire I have to stay here and meet the needs of the community. The mentality of living here for the next two years is also quite a different feeling than one gets from coming to visit for say a few weeks, or a couple months as I've done in the past in various other parts of the world. There is none of that feeling of urgent excitement to take in every moment here with awe and appreciation knowing that in three or four weeks time it will mark your end of the stay and you will be transported safely back home with reliable luxuries, loved ones, and American security. No-it is much more (for me at least) a feeling of shock in realizing, "This is home for the next 27 months-without breaks or weekends off or excursions to escape for solace and relief". Time doesn't fly here like the mission trips and travels I've taken before where I only had X-amount of time before I had to board another plane and go back to my ho-hum life of suburban boredom and consistency. The realization that I'm actually living here, making a real life for myself in a tiny town in Benin-complete with all the same routines of home in the States of washing clothes, shopping for food, cleaning my house, and going to bed at night to be up for work the next morning has been quite the reality shock for me here. I guess I assumed that the intensity and excitement of traveling to an exotic new land would be the same here as its been for all my other trips overseas. For this reason alone, its definitely a different experience abroad than I've ever had before. But I am beginning to enjoy it. Gradually. There, are as admitted, some really hard things for me to adjust to that I've mentioned before-the desperate situations you come in daily contact with, prominent gender inequality, and missing my family and friends, but there are also, increasingly, really rewarding things that I'm finding as well. Like the hilarity of having to wait for the herd of cows to empty out of my street before I can walk down the path to my house, dodging giant cow paddies, goats, pigs, and chickens on the way, or the various nicknames I've been given of terms of endearment from the people I pass on my walk to work, or the time I spend talking to the ladies at my NGO learning new phrases in Nagot (the local language) and blushing away their praises of good work (which I have to politely accept but never fully agree with-shucking corn and pulling kernels off the cob to turn into corn mill still does not constitute a productive day of work for me, at least not yet). I'm even beginning to appreciate my nights alone-something I initially dreaded as that meant holing up in my house to wrestle boredom and homesickness without the distraction of music, tv, computers or other people. I've gotten into a quiet little routine of preparing dinner and washing my dishes outside once night has fallen, and being able to take in the stars and sounds of the night at luxury (not that I'm not Eagerly anticipating the music being sent-thank you Jackson!!). And I love, Love my cold showers! I don't know if I'll ever go back to hot showers again-it's the most refreshing part of my day-a simple pleasure like star gazing and reading into the night that has become part of my coveted nightly routine. Haha-I'm beginning to sound like a 90 year old hermit-lady living in an isolated mountain range! But I guess that's how life goes here learning to make do with what you've got and appreciating it for what its worth-which I'm finding out, is more and more every day. Anyways, more next time-as always I hope you all are doing wonderful! Thanks SO much for your emails and updates-it is so nice to hear from ya'll and hear news from home! A la prochain~Sunny
hello girls ugh i just spent 45 min of precious comp time writing you alll an email and the power shut off so im having to start over. no fun. also im on the french keyboard again so please excuse the errors and i apologize for the frantic writing as ill try to send this one off before the power gets cut again, and it inevitably will: so nice to get your update chelts, very happy to hear everything is working out well with you, but what is tmj? maybe ive been out of the world of American acronyms for too long.
oh big news=i got a cell phone! really exciting for me:not that i have the money to call people but at least i have the means for family and friends to call me and for me to call peace corps in country in case of emergency which gives me some ease at night:its ridiculously expensive to call here so dont even think about it but if any of you know how to use skype online and wanna give it a try my cell number including the international and country code is 011-229-97-91-63-53-feel free to share this w others on the blog. there is a 5 hour time difference from the east coast. it may be 7 hours from the west coast: so how are the rest of you doing? updates on you, life in general; america, trashy gossip. i love hearing from yall--I miss you girls tons still, i keep waiting for the homesickness to subside but I still think of yall alot: ok news from me:this will be sporadic and may not make sense whatsoever but bear with me--the power is consistently finicky and i dunno when ill get to a city with internet again. i cut my hair out of shear boredom--the nights are long here since i have night curfew=I've been warned that being so close to the Nigerian border prevents me from being safe outside at night. basically theres a lot of messy civil strife across the border and Americans walking around have a huge bounty on their heads as American passports are priceless to a desperate Nigerian, so that means from 7 pm on I am stuck in my house trying to waste away time until I am tired enough to fall asleep. this consists of doing things like hand washing my clothes which does take a considerable amount of time, fiddling with my shortwave radio to try to find a station that works and thats in french or english, reading, or cutting fun shapes into my hair=nothing drastic though=did get a little carried away trying to fix crooked lines i cut since i dont have a mirror in my house=my hairs about shoulder length now and i did manage to cut some decent looking layers into it) many girls have aleady shaved their head from heat and boredom. dont count on me doing that. good clean beninese night time fun what can i say: other news: i met the king of the village where I am at post. very nice funny little man who gave me his cell phone number and wants to go dancing. i was given a local name as well=ireti=means hope,i think. im learning how to cook using what little materials and ingredients I have and cooking by headlamp or candle when the power goes out which is frequent. the only vegetables in town are tomatoes onions and hot peppers, fruits found in town are bananas oranges and pinapples. theres lots of white starchs and oil so lots of fried stuff still but im experimenting with other stuff gradually:when i first moved in on the24th i ate straight pasta and couscous3meals a day for the first8 days since i didnt know how to do anything else but boil stuff: ive since learned how to make and use a dutch oven and threw a big house party last weekend with 11 other volunteers who came to visit making bean dip, garlic bread with marinara sauce, pineapple upside down cake, and banana bread. yesteday i baked sugar cookies and made some fudge like stuff for the people at my work. the local ngo I'm working for has kept me busy working to put clothes together to give to the village orphans--mostly orphaned from AIDs--putting packages together for local children who cant affford school supplies, and preparing nutrient infused foods like soy flour and baby formula for this festival coming up that the organizations is putting on to support rural women. other news: got peed on by a goat..on the head. ohhhh africa: yes, one of the many joys of Benin is riding by what we call bush taxi where 13 ppl and usually a handful of goats and chickens pile into a 5 person car that is often lacking windows, floor, or parts of the roof=the one i took on this fateful day had no room for the goats in tow and so they were strapped to the roof)me being the smallest person of the group got stuck in the corner seat with half my torso sticking out of the window=so goats on top and me protruding out of the side on a 2 hour taxi ride through rough terrain equals just one more memorable experience to add to the rest: there's really not much else you can do in that situation but laugh and shrug it off though, ya know. Also my house got broken into=it's fine though nothing was stolen and thankfullyI was'nt in the house when it happened so I'm fine=it initially freaked me out quite a bit--mostly cause there are so many crazy stories you hear here of strange things ppl do to ppl here which had me questioning the intentions of my intruder, but I'm realizing that safety is yet another luxury--along w health--that is neither to be expected or guarenteed here; it's just part of the package deal of living in west africa: basically they've told us if we can't handle it then we can leave:so I'm learning to just suck it up and deal:some of the encounters I've had that reflect questionable intentions are of a road blockade me and a bunch of other volunteers came upon one day where a village was holding up a search through cars to find the culprit of a crime of which we later saw pictures of=a woman was beheaded and apparently her head was sold to a witch doctor who promised the man that if he brought him the head of a certain woman with x characteristics, that he would put a spell on it to make money spout out its mouth=a sort of atm head i guess. mostly i just try to stay on the good side of the witch doctors in my town and stay clear of voodoo business: other than adding to my bizarre encounters; dodging the village crazies=one has a thing for attacking me on the shoulder with kisses which is really gross and scary when all I'm doing is trying to buy bread for the day or get home from work, and rerouting my walking trails to avoid the herd of cattle that comes by house twice a day, I'm just trying to maintain my sanity, keep busy with work; and brainstorm new ways to entertain myself at night so the silence doesnt get to me: I'm gonna try to get my dad to buy me an i pod and speakers and get some music on it so i have something to keep the eery silence at bay at night an keep my mind from wandering to dark places: i know there are some ppl who keep inquiring about things to send so lizzie if you wanna add mp3s and cds of happy,upbeat,or calming music that will play on the mp3 player you gave me to the blog thatd b awesome. also any quotes or inspirational literature or things to keep me motivated can be sent via mail and is much needed--there are days when the frustrations of harassment by men, along with numerous other cultural barriers makes it difficult to find incentive to stick around) well i cant think of anything else to write at the moment and im afraid to wait any longer to send this since the powers so finicky but i love you all and miss you lots=xoxoxo=sunny
Hello all!
just wanted to write you all a quick hello! Am in Cotonou for the day doing some administrative work and lavishing in the oppurtunity to use an American computer and keyboard at the Peace Corps Bureau! How are all of you?? I miss yall tons, and wonder on a daily basis-what all of my people are up to these days? I feel awful for keeping up such poor correspondence- making it to a city that has computer capabilities is very very rare as it costs both time and money that i lack here, but garunteeing a stable supply of electricity to keep the few working computers in country up and running is even harder to come by- so i promise i will try to email when i can. lots to fill you up but im sure ill forget something along the way. As of now Im finally all moved and (almost) settled into my permanent residence, a village which is about an hour north of the capital Porto Novo-its in the southeast of Benin, within bike riding distance to Nigeria-which would normally be exciting as i could hop borders, but as of now is limiting my freedoms since civil tensions in the neighboring country are creating security issues for foreigners i.e. Americans-but im staying safe-just not able to leave my house at night, which starts at 7 pm- so nights are long and somewhat boring for me-that is when im not busy trying to learn how to cook (very difficult to do without an oven, microwave, steady supply of water, guaranteed electricity and all the other nice little machineries and kitchen gadgets were all so accustomed to at home), cutting my hair (yes-chopped off about 8 inches-about shoulder length now), reading, or going on bug and rodent killing sprees in my house. Ive begun working with a local NGO-theyve put me to work putting together projects to give children who have been orphaned by AIDS clothes, getting kids school supplies that are otherwise unaffordable, putting together a Womens Awareness festival for the rural areas of my village, and producing nutrient enriched foods and ingredients to give to people in the town and surrounding area. Im learning the local language Nagot, a little better now-and was given a name by my community-Ireti, means "hope". Others things ive done since I moved in at the end of September- met the village king, threw my first house party-successfully cooking my first meal in Benin and hosting 11 other Peace Corps volunteers from the region, had my house broken into (not harmed, nothing stolen though), was peed on by a goat strapped to the roof of a "Bush taxi" i was riding in with 13 other ppl in a 5 seater car, made National and public TV attending various local and national ceremonies, was involved in a high speed car chase by the police (apparently my taxi driver thought it was okay to evade the law-not a fun experience considering the police's readiness to arm and fire at disobedient civilians), and am learning how to stay sane on a schedule that begins with roosters crowing relentlessly from 5 in the morning on, to rerouting my walk to work from the herd of cattle that comes by my house twice daily, to trying to live off a diet consisting solely of tomatoes, onions, oil, white bread, white rice, beans, eggs, couscous and cheese, and trying not to drive myself crazy with all the silence that envelops me as soon as i go home for the evening. So far life here proves to be absolutely nothing like id ever imagined or expected. My experiences-and there have been a vast array of them-are unbelievable, in both good and bad ways-but the experiences ive had here are by far the most adventurous, laughable, humbling, and risky things ive ever done. Im definitely meeting some of my greatest fears head on-like living by myself and dealing with real "live" ghost/spiritual enigmas-and taking on some overwhelming challenges-like asserting myself in a male dominated society, and addressing community rural health problems in a culture that leads people to believe that illness is a cause of bad curses and witchcraft and not of simple behavior and habit changing-all of which are both terrifying and gratifying. So on to you all- how are you??? Im Starved for updates on everyone! Today is the first day ive got to check my mail in a month and though i havent had a chance to open any of it i saw several letters from you all-thank you SOOO much! you have no idea how nice it is to get mail-it feels like christmas! I hope you all are doing wonderful! Keep me updated and let me know what is going on in your busy lives! I miss you all and think of you often!!
Hey I haven't posted some of Sunny's emails, here's one from August 16th.
Hello dear! ....i am very limited to my computer use-this is the first time ive been to a city with access in a while and prob wont get another chance for the next couple weeks but will be very interested to find out as soon as I can communicate again! Anything else new?I miss you!! I miss America! and good food-I'm hungry ALL the time here-though im having no problem keeping up the curves-all the food here is triple fat fried with this Palm oil stuff -seriously ALL the food-have yet to have just a fresh vegetable or anything that isnt dripping in grease-and my diet consists of 90% white starch-also triple fat fried. I'm gonna have a heartattack once im done with service here-either from the ridiculously fatty meals, or fromt eh multiple scares i get during the day. Currently, I'm scared shitless-to be frank. I'm fine-healthwise, and socially-have made some really great friends and am well rested (and well read-am devouring books by the day here since its not safe to go out at night and therefore there is Nothing else to do) but am experiencing alot of self doubt. there are definitly moments when it sucks-bad. there are good moments too-but its pretty hard sometimes. Theres the constant smell of feces everywhere-human feces to goat pellets, the constant wet from humidity that sticks to your clothes and bed (ive yet to go to sleep without my sheets being damp from the rainy days and nights), the other constant smell of rotting fruit and trash, and the nauseating smell of pollution when in the city-but I can deal with all that-within the last few weeks ive just kind of accepted the fact that I'm never going to be clean, that something will be crawling on me when im in the latrine and shower, and that i will gain a decent amount of weight here-its the bizarre happenings of the voodoo culture that get to me. And you know me, scaredy cat that I am-couldnt watch Are you Afraid of the Dark on Nickelodeon because of my relentless imagination and the things it would do to my sleep-so all this crazy voodoo stuff scares the beejeezus out of me at times. Take the constant chanting i hear every night until the wee hours of the morning-or the very strange stories i've heard from other volunteers of their experiences in village. One, from a volunteer in the north of Benin told me several unexplainable incidents he'd witnessed of a women found frozen in a lake for 3 weeks who was apparently killing a man who'd hit her "through her mind" and had to be enchanted and given several cows and some pigs before she would quite making him sick (through her mind powers or something), another story was of a man who tried to behead another man who had apparently put an anti killing curse on his pursuer-James the volunteer who was recounting this to me actually saw the guy with his head half off, saw it snap back on his head, and saw the man thought be be dead, come back to life unscathed. Eerie stuff to say the least. All I gotta say is its creeping me out man. Im def gonna try to make it for Jacksons wedding-i need something upbeat to look forward to-only been here a few weeks and its already So emotionally and physically draining-words cant describe. I found out where my post is though! I'll be living in the Southeast of the country and I can literally bike to Nigeria if I wanted (which i wouldn't since we're not permitted due to to civil unrest in our neighboring country for the time being). Its also home to the Oro-a secret society based out of the animist religion that does god knows what-but women and non members are absolutely forbidden to see it-its actually going on now from August to Septmeber. unwanted people who see them are abducted and disappear-its espeically dangerous for a woman to see them or come in contact with them. go figure I would get placed in the one region of the country with a forbidden forest and a secret society that goes around terrorizing. But due to the apprently very grave and serious nature of the Oro, Peace Corps will evacuate me when im posted there next year so I don't have to lock myself in my room for a month and lay laterally like the rest of the women and non members are forced to do in the Plateau region on Pobe during the time of the Oro. Phew. Other than that terrifying aspect of my soon to be "home"-my housing apparently will be somewhat modern-something i was a bit disappointed in as I was looking forward to living in a mud hut-but was ok with upon hearing what my work will be. I am going to be working for my Dream Job! An international non profit NGO called Project Bokonono has requested me to be their grassroots liason-based out of North Carolina and founded and funded by students at Wake Forest Im the "Go To "person who will research prospects for their funding of regional health needs-vulnerable populations like women, children, orphans, and health centers and hospitals. This is such a perfect match for me its unbelievable! So despite the crazy Oro rituals-at least I have this to make up for! The local language where i'll be at Post is Nagot (i started classes to learn it last week-its tonal like Chinese so depending on the way you say the same word it can mean like 8 different things-god-help-me) but will hopefully pick up enough before meeting with the town officials, mayor, chiefs, and king. My French exam last week tested me at an Intermediate-Low level-surprising to me since I started here at the very bottom-Novice Low level. Language is still a constant frustration-feeling mute, deaf,and dumb all at once-im working hard but French is sooo difficult sometimes-and Im hearing it and taking so many friggin French classes its starting to make my skin crawl. Nagot should be interesting-one of the ways you can respond to the morning greetings is apparently just be saying "hmmmmmmm!" or if someone was to ask how you slept at night you might respond "ohhhhhh"-not too terribly complex-until you get to the tonal aspect of it. What else to tell you-oh yes-may want to send an email or blog this-for sending packages, or mail in general, it is much more likely to get here if it is sent in one of the padded envelopes, and drawing some religious symbols on them is prob a good idea too in order to keep people from stealing whats in inside or opening them (like a cross, or some other Christian, Muslim, or voodoo religious icon). Boxes very rarely get here-and Make sure its sent via Airmail!! I've written numerous letters to you and forgot to write Airmail-so you prob won't get them within this decade-arrgh. what else-oh yes besides writing Cotonou, Benin, its good to write West Africa underneath and also in French "Ouest de Afrique"-I think thats how you spell it. Host family situation is going ok-though Im going to be SOO excited to finally get my independence back when I get to Post at the end of September (that is, if I make it to Swear in-which is wear i am offically accepted and promoted into being a peace Corp Volunteer). But yeah, homewise, i didnt get breakfast for the first 3 weeks, and upon how hearing how much they were getting paid to house me(ALOT)i finally got the nerve to voice my hunger pains and food request. Our house decor is also interesting-big nudy beach towels of topless women in thongs riding a bycicle, hair blowing in the wind-very Daytona or Myrtly beach-esque-are the framed. besides that and some voodoo paraphanelia, a giant brontesaurus that sits on top of the mantle are the only decor. Don't ask-I have no idea either. Meals at home otherwise are fine-really friggin weird, but fine. Heaping piles of greasy spaghetti, rice, beans, manioc, and mystery meat make up most of my meals- i never ask what the meat is-the answers in the past have made my stomach turn so i just shut up and eat now. God I would give anything for some normal food though-Applebees, waffle house, anything-my standards for food have gotten really low-anything cleanly prepared and even slightly nutritious would be worth gold to me right now. Days here don't go by without something strange and bizarre happening-of these (sorry if Im randomly rambling, just want to make sure I update you fully and am trying to get it all out before I forget and before I go back to my internetless town for another month or two). Of these are: -killing my first dinner--initially excited to learn a knew cooking method my excitement quickly ceased upon realizing how blunt the knife id be killiing my rooster with was-there are voodoo rituals of giving the "coq" 3 drinks of water before slitting his throat, and then after all the mess is made, and his feathers are plucked and his body dismembered, his foot has to be shoved into his head out of his mouth before being cooked with ALL his other parts and ultimately put on my plate to eat.yummm. my French isn't good enough to understand their explanations for the rituals,so once I again i cant explain. -daily and nightly marraige proposals-generally responded to with humor-whihc seems to be the only way I can respond to any of the bizarre things that happen to me. Theres the karma sutra man who likes to follow me around on his zemi (motorcycle) and wears an explicitly sexual karma sutra badge-equally interesting is the man who likes to hang out at the latrine I go to every morning and chant at me-mostly I respond to these proposals with some equally humoring retort about accepting only if he agrees to the current price im marked at which can be anywhere between 3 to 6 hundred cows-depending on my mood. Telling them that reverse polygamy is accepting in American culture and that I already have four husbands but he can be my fifth that does the laundry usually scares them away enough to escape off to class in time. -Gardening-the health sector (my division of work) is learning how to subsistance farm-we all got our own plots and planted cucumbers, lettuce, tomatotes, and Moringa-got some nice callouses on my hands from that gotta hurry now-but check out www.projectbokonon.org and www.uniteforsight.org to see who and what I'll be working for. I love you and wish I could write more! Sorry so random-will write again asap!!!
Here’s a letter Sunny wrote to her Grandmother, it’s not dated but I’m thinking it’s from mid-August. It might be my favorite letter so far--it's probably the most informative and detailed. It also reminds me of what an amazing girl our Sunny is. I'm sitting here listening to a CD my mom bought me from Wal-Mart (I picked it out) the day after Sunny left to cheer me up. It's called "Spirit of Africa" featuring music by Insingizi. It's got nothing on my Ali Farka Toure -- Talking Timbuktu (the capital of Mali--I think) CD--which I highly recommend to all of you--especially if you're a fan of Ry Cooder (who also produced Buena Vista Social Club). Anyway, Sunny wrote this letter over a month ago so it's a little dated but will make you laugh and catch you up on some of the crazy experiences she is having. I put emphasis on some stand out parts in case you have to leave and come back to this letter and can't find your spot.
Best, Lizzie Grandmother— Hello! I hope you get this letter! I have gotten your letters though—thank you so much! You have no idea how excited I was to get a letter—it’s hard to be away from normal communication to the outside world & I miss you tons & miss being to talk to you whenever I want…. Training has been so exhausting—mentally, physically & emotionally, & though I’m still committed to giving myself 100% to this work here, it gets hard to say the least—but getting a letter from you made the day worth getting through! I received one the 21st of August that was post marked from Dalton on the 9th of August—it was the one you had airmailed for 90 cents –so it got through fine & fast! I think the airmail stamp helped with speed. But enough about mail. Life here is so different from anything I did or could have ever imagined. In other developing countries it’s always different—but Benin is like living on another planet—far more different than any other culture I’ve lived among or read about. It’s been surprising to me how hard it’s been to adjust to this drastic culture shock—the dirt, grime & strange food & clothes are the easy things to adjust to. It’s the social taboos, acceptance of family structures that differ greatly from America’s & strange voodoo culture that is what throws me for a loop. Despite my efforts to always keep an open mind & be non judgemental—it remains a challenge for me as I see the culturally & socially ingrained gender inequality, sexism & conservatism that keeps so much of the population here from progressing. Additionally, I’m coming to terms with the heavy burden I’ll bear as a health volunteer. Being a rural community health advisor means being both fully aware of all the economic injustices & hardships of the people here & not only seeing but understanding the physical pain they suffer as a result--& not being able to do anything about it. Though my days in training are filled with classes about current health problems in Benin, statistics of major illnesses, their causes, roots, & influences, the health care structure of the country & preventative measures & actions taken (among French class, cooking class—for how to prepare Beninese food for malnourished children, gardening class for subsistence farming, & mechanics class for learning how to care for our bikes, stoves, lanterns, etc.) –my main focus for being a health volunteer is in educating proper nutrition & sanitation techniques, & in educating preventative techniques. I’m not permitted to actually engage in any medical practices (as I neither have the experience nor certification for that & the risk for AIDS is too high). So, aside from homesickness & culture shock, my next biggest challenge to overcome will be the emotional weight that comes with this job. I’ve been told that the only way I will be able to survive this work is by developing a thick shell—as pain, suffering & death is likely to be a daily occurrence for the work I’ll be doing. I’ve been praying—a lot since I’ve been here—for a lot of different things. But preparing myself for this kind of work has been at the top of the list as I go through periods of self doubt. From what I hear, only about 50% of volunteers make it to the end of their service in Africa (the average dropout rate for other developing countries is 20%)—but I’m still very committed to my work here--& the need I feel toward those of such desperate, disparate conditions. The poverty I’ve seen here is worse than anything I’ve ever seen before—Latin America & China included. The people here are tough as nails--& how they’ve survived here for so long, thriving for so long, with smiles on their faces (page cut off but I think…)..despite hardships in their lives no doubt, is beyond me. I have no doubt that if I had to live the life they live here I would last no more than 10 years. The women here have super strength & perseverance. I have so much admiration for them—though I share very few things in common. They are strong (physically), hard working & tragically & paradoxically passive (within society & relationships). Their husbands have almost full control & superiority over them—I’m interested in starting a secondary project (apart from the ones I’ll have with my NGO’s) on doing a girl's or women’s group for education—to give them some other source of power & possible income. Aside from my work life, my life living with my host family—the first ever in all my travels abroad—has been interesting. I’ve gotten into a good routine—fetching my own water, boiling it, taking my bucket showers, walking to class, bargaining for street food & playing dumb, incoherent American during my morning marriage proposals to my classes. The food here, while edible, sometimes even delicious, is weird—even for me. Today I bit into something with fur still on it. Disgusting. I can stomach a lot—almost anything really—I’m well known among the street food vendors in Dogbo (the village I’m living in for training) for being adventurous with my taste buds—but eating things still warm with life, or with fur still on it is a bit too much—even for me. Mostly the food here is hard to stomach because of the immense & when I say immense, I mean exorbitant amount of palm & peanut oil that is used to deep fat fry everything. My omelet’s are deep fat fried in (I kid you not) 4 inches of boiling oil--& 3 times before they are served to me. Even rice & couscous & bread—though not completely or sufficiently nutrious, but not bad for you when served alone—are doused with at least 3 cups of grease per serving. It’s hard to stomach at times & I’ve yet to eat a fresh vegetable--& the only fruit I’m served at home is oranges—which I get by the pound. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat oranges again when I get home. Other than that my host family situation is fine—and since they have even less to eat than me, I don’t complain—at least I go to bed with a full stomach—that’s more than most people here. It gets hard having to be at home with a curfew (8oclock) –but it gets so dark here so quick with no street lights & it being the rainy season, that it’s just safer to be at home than wondering around aimlessly in the pitch black. I’ll be both excited & very scared & lonely once I get to post (the term for moving out of the host family’s house in the new village I’ll be living in). My post is actually fairly large--population of 80,000 it’s a hodge-podge of different religions—Christian, Muslim, Voodoo, Christian Celeste, Animiste (sp?) --& several different languages: Nagot, the predominant tribal language is tonal, like Chinese, & difficult to learn—though I’m trying. My house, much more modern than I expected—with running water and electricity (!!) is quite big. It has 2 bedrooms, a living room, kitchen & an inside bathroom (quite a treat! My latrine at my host family’s is way out in the yard—not a fun walk to make in the middle of the night in a down pour of rain and mud). Though it needs some “tweeking” to say the least, I can’t really complain –it’s much better than what I was originally told I’d be living in. (though it would make a motel 8 room look like a palace in comparison—my concrete walls, the color of throw –up, are riddled with giant holes housing a variety of little creatures, and big earthquake looking cracks—the concrete floor is equally discolored & stained mysterious shades that look reminiscent of past lives of other furry friend inhabitants I’m sure to be acquainted with. Among what we’ve deemed “Camp Peace Corps” (since training—with class times, meetings, curfew, & a billion other restrictions and regulations, we’re constantly reminded to abide by are reminiscent of our camp days as young children), there are several clubs to belong to. There’s the “I-have-a-mouse-in-my-room-that’s eating my food/tampons/journal/deodorant,” or the “I peed-my-pants” club (due to the inevitable diarrhea that plagues anyone adjusting to well water & a diet of 90% grease, coupled with latrines that are 50 feet away from the back door). There’s also the “I-hate-French club” and the “I’d sell my soul for a snicker’s bar or an ice cream” club. I belong to the latter two clubs, along with the “I-was-up-till-3-in-the-morning-from-loud-tribal-music-chanting-in-the-field-next-to-my-house” club. In all honesty though, the nightly & wee morning hour tribal music doesn’t bother me—I kind of like falling asleep to it—it’s beautiful, very rhythmic & upbeat—what you might liken to Caribbean or Latin American music. I think I’m gonna miss it when I go to Post. Living at post is going to be so lonely & quiet compared to what I’m used to. I wish I’d brought more music—the silence with me living there alone is going to be deafening. I’m contemplating stealing a goat to keep me company at night & so I have someone to talk to when I get bored at my house by myself. I do have a Post mate though—thank God! A post mate is another Peace Corps Volunteer—so while I still have to sleep all alone in my house by myself (it’s Peace Corps regulations—they don’t permit “cohabitations” unless you’re married) I’ll at least have another English speaker to vent to when I need to (which could be frequent). I’m lucky to have a post mate—some of my friends are not so lucky—they don’t have anyone else near them for 50 km—they’re what’s called “out in the bush.” Though I would have liked to enjoy the nature & scenery of the primitive areas of the country, I’m happy to have the security of my sanity by having a post mate nearby so I don’t go wacko out in the woods by myself. There are, incidentally, actually people who have been “wack-vacked” (short for Evacuated for mental instability) from Peace Corps service in Benin. One girl had to be reported by her village—she had apparently holed herself up in her house had been baking bread—only—for weeks before her village called in Peace Corps to evacuate the volunteer from service! As you can see, there are a whole slew of Peace Corps nicknames & inside terminology. It’s interesting to get an inside view of the organization’s phenomenon. There is a lot of very interesting, sometimes contradictory, a lot of the times under the table business & bureaucracy that goes on within Peace Corps Benin. It is, however, the real deal though. The “Posh Corps”—the term affectionately given for the Peace Corps volunteers doing service from air conditioned facilities & homes, who have stable infrastructure, running water & daily electricity & transportation or communication means, & who are payed more than $2 a day (we live on $1.50 a day—our “daily allowance” from mother Washington D.C.) –this type of “Posh Corps” has yet to exist in Benin. And for the volunteers that have survived so far—they are immensely proud of this. Many, as I mentioned go (….copier cut page off –just two words). Our “stage” (training class of 2007) has already lost several “stagaires” (our official titles—translating to mean “trainees”) In Philadelphia, within the first 3 days of our “stage,” we lost 2 “stagaires” within the 1st week of being “in country” (meaning in Benin) we lost 3 more. Our “stage” –is divided into 4 sectors—TEFL (teaching English as a Foreign language), SED (Small Enterprise Development), EA (Environmental Action), & RCH (Rural Community Health—me). Within my sector—RCH—we’ve already lost 4 –bringing us down to a total of 11 people. EA has lost 2 stagaires as well, TEFL has lost 1 & SED is holding strong. Oh, IT is another sector (it’s the Informations Technology sector & only has 2 people). We started out as 60 stagaires in Benin—I think we’re down to about 50 now—it’s the 5th week of “stage”—I hope we don’t lose anymore. Though I don’t blame them—I understand, actually. I know it takes a lot of courage to admit their defeat & mistake in joining –and to be perfectly honest, it’s hard to be able to say that this is the right choice, that this is what you really wanna do for the next 2 years of your life—especially when nothing any of us could have done could have prepared us for what this experience is actually like. It’s a brave thing to admit when you’re wrong & to know when something isn’t right for you--& for these people, it just wasn’t right. There’s a lot of snobbery among Peace Corps Africa survivors—about the “quitters” but there’s a lot of understanding too that no one deserves to be unhappy, & for a lot of these stagaires—that’s what they would have been for the next 2 years if they hadn’t ET’d (Early Terminated). I can definitely sympathize. I had my 1st Thinking-about-Thinking about –Eting moment last week as I went on my Post visit to visit my new “home.” I had to be wrapped in fabric—mummy like--& lay on the floor of the car I was riding in to hide from Animiste ceremonies of the Secret Society called the Oro which forbids non members—especially women—from seeing their secret rituals. Being mummified & lying at the bottom of a car as I was being driven to my new home to be, was definitely one of those moments where I began rethinking my presence in Benin—voodoo capital of the world. However, rest assured, the Oro only do these secret ceremonies once a year for a month, and upon hearing my terrifying experience during my Post visit, Peace Corps has assured my that they will evacuate me during that time of the year next year so I don’t have to hide out in my house for a whole month. Most likely I will either plan a vacation during that period, or Peace Corps will move me to another city until the Oro is done, or if I’m broke I will just crash at friends’ Posts away from mine during that time period. So yes, exciting experiences for me so far. Not a day goes by where I don’t think to myself—“Where in the world am I that I am seeing this/or eating this/or hearing these strange sounds.” But must I say that Peace Corps is on top of things where security counts. Our APCD (Associate Program Country Director) for RCH is amazing also—she is very connected & concerned with not just the security & safety of each “stagaire” (what we are referred to before we become official Peace Corps Volunteers) but also the comfort, well being & happiness of each stagaire. She was completely sympathetic to my little freak out episode I had & promised me full support in getting me out of Oro territory during their no-girls-allowed-club meetings. God bless her—she’s been dealing with each of our individual freak out episodes--& we’ve all had them—which is why I can’t blame anyone for leaving or realizing this odd life in Benin wasn’t for them. Other stories of fun & exciting times for Peace Corps Benin Stagaires: falling off their Zemis (what motorcycles are called here) into mammoth size mud puddles (done by a fellow Rural community Health stagaire on his way to our conference), getting served spaghetti and an egg for breakfast unexplainably at 2:30 in the morning by what seems to be a wacked out host mom (another Health Stagaire experience), having mice crawl on them at night (not me, thank god), waking up wet realizing their roof is leaking (top line cut off) bed & one set of sheets is completely soaked and not having market day for another 5 days & so not being able to buy any other sheets, and multiple bike collisions with stubborn goats that won’t get out of the way. Good times in Benin for Health Stagaires, huh? It gets to a point where it’s so ridiculous it’s humorous—nearly every strange incident just has to be laughed at at some point—it’s too bizarre not to. There have been a lot of good lesson learning besides learning to use humor as your most resourceful tool. Others I’ve picked up along the way: Don’t ride your bike with your mouth open and don’t walk with your mouth open (for instance—when your yawning—always cover your mouth)—way too many bugs are digested when you forget. · Also, when you have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, don’t put your head light on till after your outside—you’ll give your host grandpa a heart attack if he wakes up to see a Cyclops walking around his house. · Don’t wear white on rain days—mud here is red clay & stains. · Don’t eat the bread that’s been sitting on the table for more than an hour—it’s infested with bugs that only come out after you’ve taken the first few bites of mysteriously crunchy white dough. · Don’t ever run to the latrine—there’s nothing, I repeat nothing as gross as face planting in the mud just outside the latrine. · Always check your toothbrush before putting it in your mouth—one of my friends found maggots growing on hers one morning. · Keep an extra bag handy in case the family latrine is occupied and you really, really have to go. · Don’t ever step into your shoes without checking for creepy crawlers or snails first—nothing more annoying than being late for class because you had to wash nail guts out from b/w your toes—and, to wrap it up, (this list could go on forever) · Never, ask what type of meat you are eating. Just put it in your mouth and chew. The answers will haunt you at night as you come to terms with the animal & its organs and body parts your stomach is digesting. Well, I’m out of lesson learning I’ve picked up since I’ve gotten here. As you can see, I’m learning lots, & as you probably know, I’m missing you like crazy. There’s not a whole lot to do once I get “home” (which is usually 7ish)—I usually just do my homework, eat dinner, & go to bed—and hope to catch my host Papa to see if I can try calling you or daddy on the phone (but have not had any luck getting a hold of either of you recently). Once I get to my Post site— (I’ll move there the end of September) I should be able to email at least. There is an internet café that I hope will still be working and that I hope I will be able to afford so far I’m doing okay on money—but I’m dreaming of all the things back home I wish I’d packed with me. Literally, every night I have dreams that I’m either at home doing something I miss—like eating good food, or lounging around) in comfort—or I have dreams that I have an extra day I am back at home able to pack all the things I wish I’d brought here—these include good like Nutra Grain bars, candy, Ovaltine or slim fast chocolate powder, beef jerky, dried fruits (as you can see I’m craving lots of food—it is the #1 conversation amongst all of us here: the food we miss most & the desperate measures we’d go to get them here) I also wish I’d packed more Ziploc bags to keep the trillion and one bugs that eat and get into everything here—from my retainer and toothbrush, to my soap, sunscreen and clothes. Now that I know I’ll have electricity, I wish I’d brought more electronic things that will definitely come of use—but I’m hoping I can get those when I come up for Jackson’s wedding—which I hope I can do! I’m already dreaming about all the things I want to do when I get home (real home) for Jackson’s wedding—getting a decent haircut, getting a much needed pedicure and bath soak (maybe even splurging on a day at the spa!) & just generally feeling like a girl again! I miss feeling pretty. It’s a shared feeling among all the girls here—even the rough and tough ones—there just gets to be a certain point of grossness that even the lowest maintenance girl can’t stand. We’ve all reached that low-and it’s only a little over a month since we’ve been here. Ohhhhhhh and it’s gonna be an interesting 2 years for us J. Already several of the girls have resorted to chopping/shaving their hair off—and it’s not even the hot season yet. I haven’t gotten to that point—but there’s no telling what 130 degree heat will make me do (I promise to call/email before I do anything drastic!). Aside from food cravings, I’m also missing pretty clothes—I’m so sick of wearing the same outfits everyday and not having an variety and not matching. It’s a completely trivial, superficial and materialistic complaint—I know—but the girly girl in me is definitely rebelling right now. I can’t wait to go shopping—like actual shopping (not for fish, soap and tape)—it’s a good thing I don’t have a convenient shipping address—I would be buying clothes online left and right I did! A lot of the time my hunger for other clothes is legit—a lot of my clothes I’m finding, just don’t fit appropriately, or are not fitting well anymore (given that my diet for, the past 5 weeks have been of deep fat fried everything and all I eat are white starches dripping in grease). So that will be another really exciting thing for me to look forward to when I visit home. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll be able to make it to the wedding (Sunny’s brother Jackson’s). I definitely want to make at least one trip home to visit. I’m finding out many of the Peace Corps restrictions and guidelines are not as strictly adhered to as I thought—and most Peace Corps Africa volunteers visit home at least once—many also use their vacation days to meet up with friends or family in Europe (a kind of half-way point to meet from America)—just for the sanity of getting a break from the intensely stressful and drastically different life here. On the days when I’m not sure if I can make it, the knowledge that I can come home to visit my family and friends and eat good food keeps me going. I will definitely be planning a trip home if I can afford it. Coming home to restock on Wal Mart supplies, electronics and all the other things I wish I’d packed would be an amazing reward after a year of service and a good chance to see you if you can’t make it here (and I can definitely see why one trip to Africa wuld be enough, it’s not nearly as romantic or picturesque as I thought it’d be). Once I get to Post and am able to make real, permanent connections with the village and the people and I think it will be better and I’ll have more day to day things to look forward to—but for now, the light at the end of the tunnel for me is knowing that I can see all the people I’m missing as early as next year if I want (and if I can get permission and save money). Most volunteers here have visitors or go on vacation to see family so I don’t feel so bad wishing for the same and making plans to take a break from this crazy life here. Well I should probably start to wrap it up—I’ve been writing this letter for the past 4 nights since I haven’t been able to call you—tell me what’s new with you! Phoebe, Emma and Jackson??? How is everything?? I miss yal so much!! I had a dream last night that I was on a trip with you and we were staying in this amazing hotel room –really plush and comfy—with amazing pillows! And Phoebe and Emma were ordering pizza hut to be room delivered—it was an amazing dream—my two favorite things—family and food! I woke up to a rooster crowing, some goats bleating and the sound of my host mama’s baby crying and realized I was just dreaming and was still in Africa land of no Pizza Hut and pillows made of rock. “Se la vie” though, right? I’m sure this whole experience will pick up soon though—I’m hoping so at least. Well I love you so so much—and thank you again so so much for the letters—you have no idea how much it means to me at the end of a hard day to get a letter and know you’re thinking about me as much as I am thinking about you. P.S. Use this address to mail and remember to use airmail! The 90cent postage marked letter came through fine—no need to priority mail—both letters came at the same time so I think the regular air mailed letter got here quicker than the priority mail ($11.00 letter). Another shipping tip for packages—things sent in the big brown padded envelopes get here quicker—electronics are prohibited and will most likely be stolen, but on all packages putting or drawing some religious symbols wards off potential theifs—so draw crosses on anything of value if it is sent. Boxes apparently take a long time to get here and boxes that say electronic brand names on them are usually confiscated. Sunny Alley Peace Corps Volunteer Corps de la Paix B.P. 971 Cotonou, Benin West Africa Afrique de l’Ouest
Hello everyone! Here's ONE of three letters I have from Sunny. It takes time to get them typed and i've been ridiculously busy (my mom's helping me type some!). So, sorry for the delay. I watched Blood Diamond over the weekend with my dad. Didn't exactly make me feel reassured that she is safe--Sierra Leone (where the story is based) is like 3 countries away--however, the country is at peace now, so, okay. It's Africa. My chest tightens thinking of Sunny so far away from all of us--her mailing address is listed in this post so put it to good use!
August 24, 2007 Hello Girls!! I hope this one gets to you! I’ve written you ladies COUNTLESS times—all to find that I’d forgotten some critical part of the written address—as in the country—such a dummy, I know. But I really hope this one gets to you! I don’t get to cities with email capabilities nearly enough—and thus am not able to write you all nearly as much as I’d like. I have so much I wanna tell you all but I never have enough time at the computer (the rare times I get to one—my village for training doesn’t have any & I only get to cities w/Internet when we have to get vaccines or go to conferences ). So I’m gonna start this snail mail thing again & cross my fingers that this time I’ll send it right. First of all let me say how TREMENDOUSLY I miss you ALL!!! I knew I would miss you all—heck, I CRIED when I had to leave Charlotte—and I NEVER cry—but I had NO idea it’d be as hard as it is for me to be away from y’all. Despite my attempts to concentrate on my French classes, homework, lectures & seminars, I find my mind constantly drifting to thoughts of all the things I WISH I was doing in America with you! I’ve spent all my life fantasizing about doing a crazy adventure like this. I had no idea once I was here I ‘d be fantasizing about being home. But I do think about all the yummy food I’m missing, about being clean again, sleeping in comfort, & late knighting out on the town w/ my girlfriends J I’m sure it has a lot to do with my insane schedule though—“Stage” (French for training)—is the 9 week session I’m in now—and it is completely mentally, physically & emotionally exhausting. My classes—ranging from French to technical training (about how to garden for subsistence farming or cook for malnourished children or identify symptoms of various maladies) also include lengthy sessions about Benin’s current health problems among other national issues that pertain to my sector of work here—Rural Community Health. Aside from general academia I’m also in the midst of classes on how to clean and assemble my bike, how to coke Beninese food (the cheese here has to be boiled at least 20 minutes to kill the TB—and meat has to be killed & properly gutted if you want protein), and what some of the cultural taboos and expectations are. It’s fascinating—but overwhelming—though I recognize its pertinence to the work I’ll be doing as a Rural Community Health Advisor. Also, to clarify, my work will have a focus and emphasis on educative and preventative measures for improving health and decreasing sickness. I’m prohibited from involving myself in actual medical procedures, as I neither have the technical training or experience in the medical field—and risks for AIDS is high. Healthwise Benin has a long way to go for improvement—as the 10th poorest country in the world it is rampant with fatalities from what we’d consider minor illnesses or health problems—like diarrhea and malnourishment—and then there’s the big ones like AIDS. Aside from being terribly homesick, my biggest challenge will most likely be the toll on my emotions this job will have on me—the advice I’ve gotten so far is to start preparing myself for a lot of emotionally painful situations—a lot of death—and to develop a thick shell if I want to make it through this type of work all in one piece—or just at all. ANYWAYS, enough of that talk—sorry to sound like such a Debbie Downer—I’m not—you know that—so, on to the nitty gritty ;) Yeah, yeah, I know I said I’d spend these next two years romance free—but two years is a LONG time not to even have a crush! And Peace Corps kids being the throw-caution-to-the-wind adventurist types are quick to inform us newbies that it is virtually impossible not to notice the opposite sex as much as we think we might not. Did I mention the unfortunate ratio? Yes, to make matters worse the female/male ratio is like Queens—no joke—there’s like 85% girls and 15% guys. But the guys ARE very cool. Stress is too high and the need for kicking back and relaxing over beers is too big for me to completely commit myself to a life of near-nunnery. The local liquor here is a sort of Beninese moonshine, called Sodabea (spelling??) It tastes like a sweet tequila—SO I’VE HEARD—and if it is possible for tequila to taste good. It is also said to make you blind and is probably prohibited to drink by the peace Corps so I dunno if it’s entirely legal…in some cases… rules are meant to be broken—there is a much-needed sense of throwing caution to the wind once you realize—man, I’m in AFRICA—what’s stepping a few more feet out of the norm really risking?? You know? So while I’m being smart, I’m definitely trying to make the most and best of my time here. You only live once, right? I’m not putting myself in bad situations or being recklessly stupid—I’m saving those moments for Charlotte J but when the Voodoo kingpin of a village invites me to a local festive feast I can’t pass it up! Plus riding three to a seat on a motorcycles across winding village paths late in the evening necessitates a laid back ‘tude to make it home without having a panic attack. But enough about me—How are my favorite Queenies doing?? Liv—how’s the Hot girl job?? Becca, you and Jenny holding it down at Magnolia? God, y’all’s place seems like a palace to me right now! How are the boys?? J Give my love and air kisses to Lizzy, Molly, Jenn, Chelsea, Kari, Judy & Bracken too! God, I miss you girls like crazy!! Alright, if you weren’t cross-eyed an hour ago reading this I’m sure you are now—so I’ll try to wrap it up. I know my mass emails haven’t been exactly personal or coherent for that matter (aahhh French keyboards)—that’s due to the immense amount of pressure one’s under when there are 20 other email-hungry volunteers waiting in line and you have all of 15 minutes to update everyone in your life of all the crazy happenings of the past week or two in West Africa. I never manage to tell you all what I had wanted—but always get wrapped up in just INFORMING everyone all at once instead. Plus I’m desperate to read news from the outside world and hear about your lives so I try to read y’all’s emails first. So quick personal update on daily life here: Firstly, I’m disgustingly dirty ALL the time—which is bearable, but generally just gross all at the same time. I’ve toned down the girly-girl you all know—as much as I possibly can that is. Obviously I don’t blow dry or style my hair—it’s too hot for that and I didn’t think to pack any of my usual essentials for here—and I’m putting the stilettos on hiatus until my return to the states—and makeup is virtually impossible due to the immense amount of rain and humidity that accumulates all over your body in the rainy season (the winter of the year—though it’s in the 90’s most days). So I’m going through somewhat of a corporal purification—except for my diet—which, no joke, consists of 90% peanut and palm oil and fried white starches. It’s disgustingly delicious—in that ALL of my food is literally dripping wet w/oil (whether it’s omelet’s, lettuce, bread, rice, couscous) but I’m so hungry all the time I can’t help but eat exorbitant amounts. I’m gonna be a fatty—at least until training. My training (called “Stage”) ends Sept. 21 where, if I pass all my exams, I am officially sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer and begin real work and move— Though it is yummy comfort food J So I do have hope from turning into a large Mammy-sized woman yet. I do get a lot more exercise—in manual labor form—handwashing and wring my clothes, carrying buckets of water (though I have yet to master carrying it on my head like all the African ladies here), walking, biking to class, bars, etc. I definitely don’t have to worry about my initial concerns about losing too much weight though—curves will be intact, no doubt. I don’t mind the weight gain though—as long as I’m healthy, it’s fine. And I have been—I’ve been spared the rampant diarrhea everyone else here is experiencing. Nothing quite like swapping stories of all night indigestion to bring people closer, right? So yes, that’s what I talk about with my fellow trainees in between academia lectures, health and poverty stats, and language class: food poisoning and boys. And how disgusting we feel and look. That’s another overriding topic of conversation. For all of our willingness to forego the luxuries of life ther’s no denying we miss them terribly. The first thing I’m doing when I get to the states is treating myself to (what will be) a much-needed spa day. Ugh, I miss feeling like a girl—though it isn’t a total change. The Beninese pride themselves on their nice upkept appearance—so my femininity and passion for fashion works well with cultural expectations here—though the clothes are drastically different from anything I’d ever seriously wear in the states. There are some hilarious outfits here, let me tell ya—but at least the Beninese have a sense of pride in the way they look and dress—a good reflection of their culture. I’m racking my brain for other things I know I’ll be wishing I’d included-but can’t think of anything. Oh, did I mention I’d be giving condom-using and safe sex demonstrations with wooden penises in village? That should be nice and extremely uncomfortable. Well, I’m sure your eyes are killing if they weren’t before—sorry about the tiny handwriting and crappy stationary—I’m all journaled out of life here in the Dogbo, Benin, West Africa—So I’ll sign off for now. Feel free to write back. I just recently got a letter that arrived from the U.S. in nine days—so the mailing system does work! Make sure to send it to this address though. (It’s the best version I’ve heard works. SEND IT VIA AIRMAIL. Sonia Alley Corps de la Paix des Etats Unis D’Amerique B.P. 971, Recette Principale Cotonou, Republique du Benin Afique de l-Ouest West Africa If by chance any of you have a free moment—if you could email Lizzie (@ lizziehumma@gmail.com) or call her (404-918-1807) to give her this letter—that would be amazing! Also, if for any reason you need anything else about my contact info—or need to get a message to me—feel free to contact my Dad—his email is: aguas53@gmail.com and my home phone is Savannah is 912-341-8701—I realized I didn’t give y’all very much contact info for me though I left with all of yours—which doesn’t make any sense since I have incredibly limited communication means. Anyways, sorry to drag this out—as you can see—when I’m not kickin’ back with village chiefs or going to strange tribal ceremonies I’m bored out of my mind! And missing y’all like crazy L I hope you’re all doing fabulous! I love you girls and think of y’all all the time! Lots of love, hugs, and air kisses to all of you!! Yours in Africa, Sunny P.S. (My/Lizzie’s) mailing address is: Lizzie Humma 477 Lindbergh Place NE Apt 119 Atlanta, GA 30324 The last email I wrote her was when I last wrote y’all—about being totally and utterly freaked out—so by the way, I am a little less freaked out now, though I did have to be wrapped in a blanket and hidden in a car during my visit to my Post—I’ll write more about that later—when I get feeling back in my hand and more money to buy stamps. Love y’all tons and will write y’all soon. Love, Me. ---I’m going to type that letter up soon! It’s really good! This is like a teaser post! I hope it’s okay that I put her address on there, it seemed like she thought it was okay. Someone inform me if that’s wrong. Also, you’ve got my address so fwd me letters and I’ll post them! I’ve got one to her grandmother and one to me I’ll hopefully be posting soon! My mom was so sweet and typed this one up for me—that whimsical handwriting takes a little while to translate to type. Oh also we g-chatted the other day—it was great! Write her letters—thanks guys!
First of all, sorry guys for not being a better blogger. The transition from college to the working has not settled well with my time management. I've been deciphering and typing 8 whimsically written pages of Sunny's to me and to her family. I'll put the last couple of emails in here as soon as I get a chance but considering these letters were written about a month ago and are EXTREMELY interesting, I thought they might do for now. Also, sorry, the grammer's not perfect--i tried my best but i'm sure I made a ton of typos or word auto-corrected words the wrong way. ok thanks!
July 26, 2007 Letter to me: Lizzie~ hey! Hope this gets to you soon! I know you’re just moving into Atlanta—It may be a while before I can get to another village to email you but just wanted to send you a little hello to let you know I’m thinking about you in Africa. Sounds so strange to say—but it’s finally starting to sink in. Now that I’m living in my training site village of Dogbo (pronounced Do-Bo) the romanticism of the African life is taking turns losing and regaining its appeal. My home as of now and for another 9 weeks is with a very kind and accommodating, but very poor and primitive (by our standards) host family. However, they are very generous and well educated considering their circumstances. Lows of the past week: bug infested latrines and shower, the smell of feces—on everything, everywhere, B.O. like you’ve never smelled it before, ignoring any and every reason to visit the bathroom at night so as not to use the cockroach crawling out house, accepting that cleanliness is not an option, being illiterate, deaf and mute in a vastly foreign culture. Highs: being welcomed with open arms into a loving family, getting to know other volunteers, listening to African/Beninise drumming at night as I write this letter J I’ll only be with my host family for the next 9 weeks before I am “sworn in” where I become an official volunteer (I’m technically a “stager,” or trainee right now)—given I survive, don’t freak out, run away, get sick, or die—and I master the west African French dialect, succeed cultural immersion, and perfect my technical training—I will be sworn in as a true Peace Corp Volunteer (PCV) September 22nd(ish). Sounds a lot easier than it is—it’s the biggest—by far-cultural adjustment—lifestyle adjustment I’ve ever made—I never imagined it’d be so incredibly stressful or just generally difficult to endure. I’m just sucking it us and taking it one day at a time right now—definitely getting a taste of the unease from the day to day normalities of living in a real African village (rancid smells, filth, mudsliding, harassment, exhaustion, bewilderment, physical pain) –but am conversely rewarded by welcoming smiles, open arms of neighbors and friends, and the knowledge that anywhere else would be just to darn dull for me at this juncture in my life. My host family is amazing –did I mention that? Amusing—but amazing. Kind, warm, and incredibly accommodating—my host-mama wont let me leave the house (a two bedroom, one living/dining room concrete slab with tin roof—outside cooking/ coal room, front yard latrine/hole in the ground, back yard “shower”—actually a wooded closet with a bucket of old water) without putting earrings on and keeps me well overfed (I don’t know how much more white French bread, pasta, and French fries I can possibly eat) & my host-Papa is helping me with my French. The living room has nudie towels of Baywatch babes (the kind you find at Daytona, Myrtle or Panama City Beach) hanging on the walls, lots of voodoo paraphanalia (though they swear they are Catholique) and a giant Brontosaurus on the mantle. Aaaahh—Beninese décor. Oh, and today I got to carry my 3 month old host-baby (her name is Oceana) on my back (they strap/wrap their babies to their backs with big pieces of fabric) and walked home from class today by myself without getting lost! A big feat for me! That’s all I can thing of at the moment—will write more soon hopefully—as time permits—am struggling with French so I should be studying more! Love, Sunny ------------------------------------------------------------------- July 27th, 2007, letter to Sunny’s family from Sunny: Ma famille (French: tres bien, oui?!) Bonjour! I’m taking a break from writing in my journal—not that I’m much of a diary writer anyways since I find that people are usually much more interested in life than blank pages of a notebook. I everyone is doing well! I miss you all though life as a stagier in Benin is keeping me well occupied. Today has been a really great day—or I’m finally noticing that my experience is getting better than it initially seemed. The 1st couple of day were difficult in Dogbo—much much harder to embrace and take in and adjust to than I’d every imagined and you’re talking to the worst case scenario queen here. But it has gotten significantly better and its only day 3 since my arrival at our training site! The stress of living with our host families is much different and much higher here than in other situations or countries as we have no form of communication or support from each other or other friends or families once we go home (no IMing, emails or telephones to vent from or check up on each other with). Luckily though, I have an amazing host family to come home to! Some of the other Peace Corp stagaires are not so lucky—they are busy hiding out at other peoples host family houses or at local bars or restaurants. I’m getting so well fed and treated here I don’t think I’ll have to buy anything for the next 9 weeks! My host papa is so helpful and generous—he has bought me a pair of flip flops and has given me a giant back of oranges I can’t possibly eat by myself (he apparently took “J’aime l’ orange” –one of the few French phrases I know, to heart) so I’ve been sneaking them my backpack to give to some of my less fortunate friends who have been stuck on the ever popular Beninese diet of white starch. My host sisters (actually the 17 year old sisters of my host Papa & host Mama) are very charming as well—they come pick me up from class to hold my hand as we walk back home for lunch and dinner, and stay by my side despite both my slow and clumsy walking in the rain. My host brother (actually the brother of my host Mama—though a teenager as well (family positions and relations don’t have such an importance so much as the tremendous amount of homework I’m receiving. So what is a typical day like for me? I eat breakfast at home—Milo and an orange and some French bread and butter (Milo is this strange chocolate sugar mix you drink with water –not all that delicious but its what is given to me) and then I have class (French) every morning Monday through Saturday from 8-10:30 a.m. I get a small break where I try to sneak past my teacher Natasha before she starts drilling me in French phrases I obviously don’t know as I stare blankly at her. She likes me nonetheless. Then we have technical training until lunchtime (about rural community health issues, data collecting, informational overviews, analytical strategies, and project formation). Today we were given 11 new books (along with the already 6 we received solely for language) to begin reading for our various Health projects & initiatives. For lunch I go back home—plecy (Sunny’s hand writing is hard to decipher) with the baby(Oceana) and eat & study. Lunches served have been spaghetti with spicy red sauce topped with either fried fish or boiled eggs (questionable but edible) couscous with fried fish, and salad with French fries on top—about par 4 the course for me. After lunch its back to classes and training another 3 hours of French classes, and 3 hours of cultural training and lessons. We’re done at about 6-7. Today I went to a local bar with some other stagaire friends (we usually hang out a bit & catch up/vent before going home –Yesterday we went to the PCV’s *pimp house—they have a real toilet, a real shower, & electricity). Then after mud sliding my way home, getting stopped by various strangers to talk in a language I’ve yet to learn (the local language is Adja), I come home to shower before it gets dark (after dark the shower closet size room is literally crawling with cockroaches—that fly. I eat dinner (alone—as I do all my meals—it’s a sign of respect to serve the guest 1st and separate). Tonight’s dinner was noodles with another new sauce and fried … (the rest of the sentence and beginning of the next was cut off by the copier)…and study almost all night long in an earnest effort to end my French deafness, muteness, & illiteracy. That is unless visitors start making their rounds for me to come meet, or there is a particularly good Spanish or French soap opera or Beninese music video about Jesus and church that my host mama or papa want me to watch –in which case I sit with them on their couch in front of their giant Brontosaurus on their mantle and watch TV from their pint size TV monitor & try to make conversation with all that excitement I’ve yet to go to bed before midnight –my family (I’ve decided) never sleeps—I have to say good night out of sheer exhaustion –but they stay up well into the night –and are awake before my 6:30 rise. My host Papa (working for the municipal government) under the major) doesn’t get home til 10 or 11 @ night and my host sisters go to Voodoo Church @ 11ish p.m. as well—so—night time activities in the community are alive and well (its 11:30 p.m. right now & I can hear the drum beating, singing & chanting of the voodoo church now—its very very cool) So on with more detail—imagery of a typical day (so far): it’s the rainy season, so monsoon-like downpours & winds begin & end with abruption at any & sometimes all hours of the day & night—the breaks of calm in between each rainy session are filled with children coming out to play in the muddy streams that have taken over the streets, and giant snails that cover the trees and ground. Common day sites fill the space and sands of the neighborhoods and shops I walk past on my way to class & home—typical Beninese food, construction & various forms of life contradict all American norms: small bananas, green oranges, tiny apples, dwarf size billy goats & pigs (despite their grime—really cute), big strong, round women, skinny patriarchal men, utensil-less meals (eaten w/ right hand), polygamous families, toiletless bathrooms, shower rooms, with…(sentence cut off by copier)… distraction when French class begins to drone on), and cockroaches the size of 3 of my fingers. These drastic Beninese changes from American normality’s wane from being daunting & completely overwhelming to mysterious & somewhat magical & enchanting. The colors here are amazing—ranging from dusty & faded out concrete buildings & tin roofs, to bright orange & red brick colored mud and water covering the ground, tropical flavors in full bloom of hot pink, purple, & yellow, & Kelly green grass, palm trees & lush plant life everywhere you turn. Its both breathtaking & disgusting at the same time. The filth here can’t be matched by anything I’ve seen in Central America, South America, or China (or rural GA). It’s just everywhere—on streets, back yards, front yards, on people, in latrines, on clothes, on faces, in showers (#1 is done in the shower, #2 is saved for the latrine)…(I hope she doesn’t mind me putting that in there!) on animals (that you know you’re having for dinner), in the water you bathe with—the list goes on…. Smells are just as atmospherically impacting. God-awful stenches of latrines that stick to your clothing, hours after you’ve visited, fishy smells lingering in the streets from dinner or lunch yesterday, baking corn on the cob, boiled peanuts, urine, earch, goat, and B.O. To put the extreme low living conditions found here in perpective—we got a choice to visit each others host family houses (there are about 15 of us Peace Corp stagaires living all over Dogbo for our Rural Health Community Sector training) and the nicest home we visited (best quality, amenities, space, & cleanliness-wise) is comparable to the lowest grade project housing one might find in the Bronx or Detroit. The lack of waste management (keep in mind there is no “Trashman” or “Garbage day” here is reflected in the mass piles of material, human and animal, food waste strewn about the streets & city—not a fun thing to fall on if the ground slides out from under you in one of the many rain showers you get stuck in during the day. So all in all—it is quite a site to behold. As I said…(copier cut page off)…been a challenge for me to think of this as my new home for the next 9 weeks and to imagine this farther (or more likely something a level or two below this as Dogbo is amazing among one of the nicer, more modern cities) for the next 27 months. It was absolutely overwhelming my 1st 2 days--& I expect it will be in the future as well—but today, the sights of smiling, laughing children & happy neighbors (despite their leaking mud huts, windblown thatch roofs, and the torrential down poor that kept soaking their clothes as soon as they were hung up to dry), welcoming strangers, & a grilling sense of independence keeps me in high spirits & are helping me embrace these difficult, but entertaining and challenging changes in lifestyle. Every little feat here is worth celebrating as a huge victory—being able to walk by myself without getting lost (landmarks are impossible here as there are no street signs, no traffic lights, and every brown hut looks almost identical to the next brown hut—likewise with the big green pod bearing trees), mustering up the courage to initiate conversation to obvious gawking bystanders, saying a French phrase or sentence correctly, finding stable footing on the muddy, slippery ground, & going to the latrine & shower w/ decreasing hesitations & loathe. Take today for example: I’ve gotten my daily water usage down to ½ bucket—meaning I’m able to wash my face & hands throughout the day, my hair & my whole body (muddy toes & all!) with just half a bucket of water a day! This means that its 1 less bucket I have to depend on my host sister to get for me (my host Mama still won’t let me fetch my own water). Silly & strange but exciting 4 me nonetheless. My biggest challenge here for me by far is having to be so dependent on people until I can hold my own in this new mode of life—I still have to depend on strangers, technical facilitators & host family for language, work & food—so I’m eager to learn as much as possible so I can successfully reach some level of independence by the time this 9 weeks is up—then its out to live on my own …(page cut off)… wherever that may be! …(the end)… ---------------------------------------------------------------------- August 7, 2007 email BONJOUR- so good to Finally be able to email you all=these French keyboards are really funky so please excuse my terrible spelling errors=you ll jus have to bear with on this one=have very limited time to write as i am at an internet cafe for the first time in who knows how long and dont know when ill be able to get to another one=also takes a good hour to send one email so am having to write you all at once but am excited nonetheless. I’m having a really great and interesting time to say the least, but it gets hard and difficult for sure. I’m doing well though. I’ve made some really great friends and am in good health, not more you can ask for. I will try to make it to Lakossa-the city I’m in for the day and the only one that has an internet cafe-again soon so I can fill you guys in more. I have been incredibly busy (ALLLL the time) with getting up at 7 a.m. for language class at 8 a.m. Having language, technical, and culture classes until 6 or 7 p.m. and then tutoring, and trying to make it home in time to boil water for the next day, shower before it gets dark, and do the homework and various projects that were assigned. It’s exhausting. Biking to Lakossa takes over an hour and since we have classes on Saturday, Sunday is the only day I can make the trip but it’s also laundry day--which can take quite awhile, depending on how dirty I’ve gotten my clothes during the week. Funds are pretty low too, peace corps is no joke about living at the means of the people. Have had a billion really bizarre experiences already including tribal dancing, eating some truly god-awful things, and extremely poisonous little critters that share my living space with me--thank god for flash lights is all I can say. Participating in local rituals have been interesting as well. Anyway, love you and miss you all tons-I will try getting back to Lakossa asap to write you more in depth-xoxoxo-S. PS please buy phone cards if you want to talk or want me to call=calling is getting too expensive to do but I can manage if you call me back with a phone card once i finally get a chance to call you-will try asap this week since i will be finding out where i am posted this week too=so exciting
(from an email from Sunny's dad)
Sunny called her father from a from a phone booth in her training village, *****(name not shown for descretion purposes), on Monday, July 30. They spoke for twenty minutes or so and the connection was very clear. After two or three days in the capital city Cotonou the group of 60 trainees were divided into specialty areas with all the health education trainees going to *****. After arriving they were assigned to their families and that's where the story starts. Sunny loves her family and she said they are taking a keen interest in her well-being. She even said that the father of the family was going to call her father, Mr. Alley, and reassure him that she was well-cared for.The family took her to church on Sunday. She is not sure if this was a Christian church or a voodoo church but there was plenty of singing and dancing. The service went on for three hours. Among the highlights: 1. Sunny had her face painted 2. For every coin she contributed to the collection plate she had to do a dance in front of the entire congregation. 3. She had to eat something that had been ritualistically rubbed on the faces and heads of everyone present Her schedule leaves little time for idle speculation as to the meaning of all these new experiences. She is in class every day from 8:00 AM- 6:00PM studying French, Beninise culture and health education topics. There is a six hour time difference between Benin and the east coast of the United States. Food is continuing to be an issue. She says she is eating better not that she is living with a family but there is not much in the way of protein or vegetables. Lots of tropical fruit, however. Overall, she sounded good. She ended by saying that she could talk for two hours about the new, sometimes unusual and sometimes downright bizarre things she has seen, heard, done, and eaten. So there are likely to be some great installments for the blog in the future.
...sorry this is getting posted like over a week late (I was in the middle of moving to atl. and had no internet)
From Sunny on July 21, 2007: Hello! jsut wanted to let you know i got here safely-the trip was exhausting-but smooth-24hours of straight travel. It is AMAZING to finally be here-surreal and exciting-I can't believe it still. Were still very busy, sleep deprived, but Imore than anything I'm ecstatic to be here and very curious to explore !! still don't know a whole lot yet but will contact you more when i have more time. From Sunny on July 23, 2007: Update: These past few days have been insanely busy-filled with testing and interviewing to get assigned into our various project, language, sector, and staging groups-we'll also begin training for technical skills, zemidjon (the ever popular Beninese motorcycles), health, and culture in a few days as well. My french is ok so far-I'm Very eager to learn-tired of feeling like an illiterate mute at bars and markets. The bike and zemidjon training should be the most interesting-I'll almost certainly be coming home with some good war scars from the various forms of transportation I'll be taking and learning over the next few months. Yesterday we got to meet the U.S. ambassador from Togo-and heard from the American embassy's safety and security head boss who had some interesting tales of the dangers of zemidjon riding, organized crime, and past volunteers being chased by machete armed villagers-fun stuff to look forward to eh? Not to worry though-from what I can tell these are just the worst case scenarios of transportation and travel-but have yet to happen to any of the current in-country volunteers I've met. Other new experiences to look forward to- living with polygamous host families (and getting bras stolen and inappropriately touched by some of the many wives), weight fluctuation (women apparently indefintely gain 10 lbs and men lose 10lbs-ugh), (if I get placed in the north) months on end of sole yam eating (not a whole lot of food variety in the desert I suppose), fighting off goats, flying cockroaches coming from the outside latrines, and more white starch (breakfast and meals all day everyday have so far consisted of white French bread, white rice, and/or noodles with curious meat and colorful unkwown sauces) ----- Sunny left for her training site (the village *****) Wednesday. ---------- Email me @: LizzieHumma@gmail.com and I will give you her mailing address so you can writer her letters---who knows when she'll see a computer again. Could be months! I believe first class mail is roughly $1.80 for a one oz. letter to Benin. Hope you're all doing well!
Hey guys, Sunny safely made it to Philadelphia and spoke very positively of the experience so far. She said the majority of the volunteers were women and that everyone was very nice. She's antsy to get to Africa.
A few corrections to the last post: French is the national language of Benin (not Africa) and there are 12 major tribes that have separate languages that are also spoken throughout the country. Sunny sent me a long list of emails and hopefully you'll all be added to some sort of mailing list soon. Thanks guys!
Hey everyone and welcome to my blog! I take off tomorrow morning bright and early to go to my staging event (July 17-19) in Philadelphia. The "staging" is meant to provide volunteers with an orientation to the Peace Corps and to prepare me for my departure to Benin. They've already sent me tons of information from packing guides to a CD with French language lessons created by SED/IT Volunteers (the national language in Africa is French). It looks like in my first week in Africa I will be going to a lot of orientations and meetings. I will also meet my host family, be fitted for a bike and do something with a mud stove (it's on the schedule).
Here's a copy of the letter they gave me that will help my family and friends (you guys) to prepare for a visit, better understand communication restraints and to have a better understanding of who you can contact should you have any specific questions while I am in Benin. Communication: Due to technological developments in the last ten years, i.e. fax and e-mail, Americans have become increasingly accustomed to immediate and convenient communication. Volunteers, Trainees, and especially their families will most certainly experience frustration with communication resources in Benin. Peace Corps Benin would like to emphasize the following points to give you a realistic picture of the means of communication available to Volunteers in Benin before they leave home: 1. Volunteers and their families MUST realize that their primary means of communication will be international mail, which though very slow by U.S. standards is quite reliable. (see "Mail") 2. Telephone, telex, and fax communication are limited to larger cities, are somewhat unreliable and expensive ($3.40 per minute/$4 per page). Volunteers and family should understand that telephone and fax contact will be rare, perhaps once every six months for many Volunteers. (see "Telephones"). 3. In the case of an emergency, immediate communication through official U.S. government channels is assured. Families should contact Peace Corps Washington (see “Emergencies”). This will insure that family inquiries are handled in the most efficient manner. 4. All inquiries concerning Volunteers, political situation in Benin, mail, etc. should be directed to the Benin Country Desk in Peace Corps Washington. This will insure that family inquiries are handled in the most efficient manner. 5. A few cyber cafés have been established in the larger cities and many Volunteers have established e-mail accounts for modest charges. However, due to infrastructure problems and the limited service, e-mail is not totally reliable. While not all the provincial capitals have e-mail, there is the expectation that it will arrive soon. Emergencies: In the event of an emergency situation in Benin, Peace Corps/Benin will notify the Office of Special Services (OSS) at Peace Corps in Washington. OSS will in turn telephone the family of the Volunteer(s) involved. In the event of an emergency (death in the family, serious accident or illness, etc.), family/friends should contact the Office of Special Services (OSS) in Washington at 1-800-424-8580, extension 1470, or (202) 692-1470. The After hours number is 301-790-4749. OSS will then contact the Peace Corps country director in Benin and ask him/her to notify your family member as soon as possible and assist in making any necessary arrangements. If you have an important question regarding a news report on Benin, you may contact the Country Desk Unit. However, the Desk will not always be aware of specific information, such as what individual Volunteer's vacation schedules are, how long it takes for mail to arrive at specific Volunteer posts, etc. The number for the Country Desk Unit is 1-800-424-8580 extension 2319/2320, or (202) 692-2319, or (202) 692-2320. Volunteers often enjoy telling their "war" stories when they write home. Letters might describe recent illnesses, lack of good food, isolation, etc. While the subject matter is good reading material, it is often misinterpreted on the home front. Please do not assume that if your family member had a malaria attack that he/she has been unattended. There are two Peace Corps Medical Officers in Cotonou. In the event of a serious illness, the Volunteer will be treated in Cotonou and cared for by our medical staff. If the Volunteer requires medical care that is not available in Benin, he/she will be medically evacuated to Senegal or to the United States. Fortunately, these are rare circumstances. Mail Few countries in the world offer the quality of postal service that we consider normal in the U.S. Volunteers, family and friends who expect U.S. standards for mail service will be disappointed. Mailed letters take about three weeks to arrive in Benin, but packages take three weeks minimum and may take several months. Some mail may not arrive at all (this is not a frequent occurrence, but it does happen). Some letters may arrive with clipped edges because postal workers have tried to see if any money was inside (again, this is rare, but it does happen). We do not want to sound discouraging, but when we are thousands of miles from our families and friends, communication becomes a very sensitive issue. We would prefer you be forewarned of the reality of third World mail service. Despite delays, we strongly encourage Volunteers to write to their families regularly (perhaps weekly or bi-weekly). Family members will typically become worried when they do not hear from their Volunteer, so please advise parents, friends, and relatives that mail is sporadic and that they shouldn't worry if they don't receive their Volunteer's letters regularly. In the past we have noticed a common Volunteer letter writing pattern that particularly disturbs families and friends. During training and their first three to six months at post, Volunteers write home frequently. They are adapting to a totally new environment (which can be very difficult), and writing helps them process the new sights and sounds. However, once Volunteers feel at home with their surroundings and their work starts to take off, many simply forget to write home for long periods of time. Please don't be overly concerned if there is a break in correspondence three to six months after your Volunteer arrives at post! However, if a family member or friends does not hear from a PCV for over three months, then that person may contact the Office of Special Services (OSS) at Peace Corps Washington (1-800-424-8580, extension 1470). OSS will then send a "health and welfare inquiry" cable to the Peace Corps Country Director in Cotonou and ask him/her to check up on the PCV. In such cases, the Country Director is required to respond to OSS within 5-7 working days. Contacting the Volunteer at his or her site could involve making a series of phone calls, radio contacts, or even sending a staff member to the site (which means several days travel in some cases). The PCV will then be asked to write home and the Country Director will cable OSS with information to pass onto family members. As you can see, this is a time-consuming process that affects quite a few people. Peace Corps asks Volunteers and their families to try to avoid both heartache and headaches by maintaining a regular pattern of writing to loved ones. Most packages sent to Benin arrive (sometimes a few months late). Nevertheless DO NOT send things that have important sentimental or monetary value. Don't send expensive items, such as the Volunteer's favorite pair of one-carat diamond earrings. Items such as Walkman speakers, food, and clothing have usually arrived with no problem, but it's expensive for the sender and receiver. If sending packages, "bubble envelopes" work best. If sending any food items, put them inside a ziploc bag. This will reduce chances that bugs or rats will devour them. All mail should be sent to the following: (email Lizzie at LizzieHumma@gmail.com to receive Sunny's first mailing address). Once Volunteers complete training and are at their posts, the quickest way to send mail is to send letters and packages directly to your Volunteer's address at post. Remind your Volunteer to relay their mailing address at post as soon as they know what it will be. If you do not know your Volunteer's address at post, mail can always be sent to the Cotonou address above. Please realize that mail sent to this address will be held in Cotonou until staff or Volunteers travel to your Volunteer's province (this can take several weeks). The following suggestions and postal regulations may be useful: 1. Mail should be sent directly to the Cotonou address or your Volunteer's post address beginning three weeks before the end of the training. 2. Both Volunteers and family members should number letters sent so that the receiver can determine whether any letters do not arrive. 3. Packages should be sent via air, not surface mail (surface mail has been known to take longer than two years to arrive.) 4. Sending packages to your Volunteer in Benin is a risky proposition. Theft of packages is not only a problem in the Beninese postal system, it also occurs on the U.S. side. Although occasionally a package arrives quickly and without problems, it may take months or it may get "lost" along the way. Therefore, it is not advisable to send valuables this way. 5. If you do send packages, bubble envelopes seem to work better than large boxes. They are less tempting to would-be thieves. The sender should clearly and honestly mark the contents on the outside of the package, but a general description of the contents is sufficient: "clothing and candy" rather than "Nike high top sneakers and 2 lbs. Godiva chocolate." 6. Express mail is an expensive option that may take just as long to get to Benin. Perhaps a more secure option than regular airmail for documents, checks, etc., it is subject to more scrutiny by Beninese customs than regular mail. For items other than documents, Peace Corps staff has to submit import licenses to customs, and clearance can take up to 10 days. Thus, you may not necessarily save any time by using Express mail. DHL operates in Benin for those important documents. Note that current prices for DHL services run around $100.00 for one pound or less. 7. There is a tax, which Volunteers will have to pay on all packages received before they can retrieve them from the post office. This tax varies according to the size of the package. It might be a nice gesture from friends or family to send a six-pack of Mountain Dew, but it may cost a Volunteer up to $10.00 to get it out of the post office. 8. Packages are kept in the Cotonou office until a PCV or staff member is traveling to the Volunteer and can deliver them. 9. If Volunteers wish to send a package from Cotonou to the States, Benin postal rates are high and insurance is not available. For this reason, many Volunteers wait to send packages with returning PCVs (whom they ask first, in country) or wait until their Completion of Service (COS) date to send home gifts and souvenirs. Letters going to the States through the Benin post have been quite dependable. 10. US postage-stamped letters can be put in the "next traveler" box at the Peace Corps office in Benin, to be hand carried by the next person going Stateside. Note that this is a courtesy, not an obligation, and Volunteers shouldn't expect any traveler to carry more than letter mail, unless special arrangements are made with the individual. Air travelers may be required to open letters and packages and/or submit them to X-rays, especially when they don't belong to the traveler. 11. The Benin Desk in Peace Corps Headquarters, Washington, is available to answer Volunteer & families' questions about mail. Due to staff and budget constraints, they cannot, however, facilitate the sending of personal mail for Trainees and Volunteers. Telephones: Most major cities and some larger towns in Benin have access to telephone and FAX services. Unfortunately, the communications infrastructure has not kept pace with the number of subscribers, and it is sometimes difficult to get a line through. It is not uncommon to be cut-off while in mid-sentence. In the rural areas where most Volunteers live, telecommunications are non-existent. Phone calls home tend to be placed from provincial capitals. The cost of calling the U.S. is prohibitively expensive - several times more expensive than calling from the U.S. to Benin. Often a Volunteer will place a short call to a friend or family member and have them return the call. Please explain this to family & friends so that they are not concerned when Volunteers call, relay a number and then hang up or are cut off! This technology is just making a foothold in Benin. Presently it is unreliable and expensive. However, Peace Corps Benin’s headquarters office in Cotonou has 3 computers available to volunteers, and one computer is available at each of the 3 Peace Corps “workstations” in the northern part of the country. Diplomatic Pouch The diplomatic pouch is meant for official business of the US Government only. Since Volunteers are not considered employees or agents of the government, they are not entitled to the use of the pouch. Sending Money to Volunteers While Peace Corps does not restrict Volunteers from receiving money from their families, please bear in mind that receiving money from abroad may lead to perceptions by Beninese that mitigate against some of the goals that the Volunteer is trying to achieve (i.e., acceptance in the community). Unfortunately, there are no simple methods to transfer money to Benin. Please note that Peace Corps is not able to transfer personal funds from the United States to a Volunteer or Trainee. Credit Cards - Visa and American Express credit cards can be used in a few hotels and restaurants in major cities (Cotonou, Porto Novo & rarely in provincial capitals). Some can also be used to obtain cash advances at banks in Cotonou and Porto Novo. Some Volunteers bring credit cards and arrange for a family member to make payments from savings or a checking account in the U.S. Volunteers find credit cards particularly useful when traveling after their Peace Corps service. In setting up arrangements such as this, it is best to designate a family member with "Power of Attorney" to act on behalf of the Volunteer. Visa is the most commonly accepted card in Cotonou. There is also an American Express office in Cotonou. Visiting Volunteers Peace Corps Benin encourages family and friends to visit Volunteers. However, experience has shown that visits should be carefully timed so as not to interfere with the Volunteer's service or with integration into their community. First, visitors are not permitted during a Volunteer's pre-service training or during the first three months at post. Peace Corps has learned from forty years of experience that Volunteers adapt better to training and to their sites if they are not distracted by visitors during these critical periods. The best time for visits are after a Volunteer has spent at least six months at post. They have established themselves in their community and have honed their language skills. Thus they are better able to host visitors. They also have a better understanding of Benin and have a clear idea of what sights they would like to show you! Note that Volunteers' supervisors discourage them from receiving visitors during peak periods. Answers to Some Common Questions Can Volunteers travel to the United States while on vacation? Volunteers may travel, at their own expense, to the United States or a third country with the permission of the Peace Corps Country Director. The Country Director will normally authorize travel as long as the Volunteers has accrued the required vacation time and the trip will not take him or her away from the site during peak work periods. How can family/friends in the United States send plane tickets or documents to Volunteers in Benin? The best method is to have the items hand carried by a person who is traveling to Benin or by courier like DHL or FedEx. For example, if another Volunteer is home on vacation or is having a family member come to visit them at post, arrange to have the items mailed to the traveler in the States and then have them carry the items to your country of service. (Please be aware that you and your PCV must make all arrangements yourselves and that you should give everyone involved complete phone numbers and addresses or a phone number of the Volunteer or their families). Another reliable, but expensive method is to have plane tickets or other documents sent by DHL or Federal Express. These types of carriers are able to ship documents from the States to the Peace Corps office in Cotonou. The price will vary but the minimum cost is currently $75.00 to $100.00 for up to one pound of documents. Will family members or friends be able to send facsimile messages to Volunteer in Benin? Use of the facsimile machines in the U.S. Embassy or the Peace Corps office is restricted to official purposes only. Volunteers can receive faxes through numerous private Tele-boutiques located all over the country. As the Tele-boutiques rely on telephones and the telephone infrastructure is poor, this service is not always reliable. If you would like to send a FAX to your Volunteer, please ask them for the fax numbers nearest them. info they sent to help me that you might find interesting... Helpful Links and Websites Friends of Benin: http://www.friends-of-benin.org/ Yahoo Group Search: CDO Julie Bohn went to Benin at the end of June and met with several Volunteers who suggested you do searches on Yahoo for Benin Groups. They mentioned there are a lot of good resources there to help you get prepared. Some of the resources are not good so you’ll need to weed through and find things that are relevant. Blogs: http://www.peacecorpsjournals.com/bn.html Recommendations: One PCV suggested the blog www.lostinbenin.com for a good packing list. Some of us could not find it on his site, but maybe you’ll have better luck. Regardless, the list the Peace Corps gives you is up to date and good. Different Seasons: Hot Season (2-3 months) Rainy – 5 months Windy it can get really chilly 4-5 months ...Packing has been an absolute joy. Communication Communication in country is pretty great. Many PCVs have cell phone service, and if they don’t have it in their village it is probably close by. The majority of Benin PCVs have cell phones. Site Placement There are both rural sites and sites where PCVs are concentrated near each other. You can be specific about what type of site you want. You do not need to be far out in the “bush” if you do not want to be placed there. Training There will be a 9-week training where you will be living with a host family. Your sector will be all in one village, but relatively close to all the other sectors. okay that's it for now guys. in later posts...like when I don't send Lizzie stuff for the site about my daily doings, she'll put up info on what you need to do to prepare in case you want to come visit---it's pretty intense--down to the yellow fever vaccination requirement and malaria pills. Okay I miss you guys already, take care and please get my mailing address from Lizzie so I will get nice letters from you guys!
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