This year I wanted to do something different (Click here for WAD ’07) because WAD landed on a market day. I wanted to take advantage of the fact that people from all around the commune, not just Tchaourou, would be present. To do this, I wanted to create visual awareness through red ribbon displays, the red ribbon being the symbol for HIV/AIDS solidarity. To help with this project, I consulted the Orphanage Director, Daniel TCHAFFA, to get support from the local orphans (both infected and affected by HIV/AIDS). The goal was to have these orphans share information about HIV/AIDS with the community.

The plan of action included the orphans first making placards with HIV/AIDS messages for them to carry in the parade through town. During the parade, the orphans clapped and chanted “ je suis jeune, je veux vivre, toutes ma vie, sans SIDA” which translates to “ I am young, I want to live, all my life, without AIDS”. Once in town, they took their pre-made ribbons (thanks to Daniel and myself) and divided into groups. Each group went to a designated part of the market where they asked to put red ribbons on market stalls. The red ribbon acted as a “talking point” to discuss HIV/AIDS, to explain the symbolism of the red ribbon and to answer any questions.

In total, the orphans reached over 1,500 people during the day and placed hundreds of ribbons on market stalls.

Pictures of the event:

Daniel and I making hundreds of red ribbons out of local fabric prior to WAD

Christine, who helps out at the CPS, paying close attention to the finer details of the ribbon

et voila, les orphelins. C'y est!

First stop, the hospital.

Arriving at the market.

And an attempted artistic picutre of one ribbon hanging from a market stall.

In lead up to World AIDS Day I helped a fellow volunteer, Jennifer Morgan, with a two day HIV/AIDS peer-educator training. At her local high school in Angaradebou (about 5hours north of Tchaourou), we trained 20 girls and 20 boys how to educate their peers about HIV/AIDS.

Day one included lots of games, activities and demonstrations.

Here are the girls practicing putting on condoms

and playing a game

By day two, it was clear the students knew their information, so we spent the day teaching them how to give presentations. You would be amazed at how little these kids know about presentations. They turn their back to the audience, they cover their mouths while talking, and they speak quietly. It’s absolutely horrible. So, we took the opportunity to teach these kids the life-long skill of giving presentations. After several attempts, the kids finally started to understand what we meant by: “speak loud” , “face the audience”, etc.

Here are a few pictures of them in action

We took a break while the kids practiced their presentations and went to the market. I brought my camera along and took a few photos : typical stuff: garlic, pepper, salt, ect.

beautiful bariba woman. I was quite surprised she let me take her photo.

After break, we reconvened and the kids gave their presentations. All succeeded. And in true Beninese fashion, we held a brief awards ceremony where the kids received peer-educator badges for participating. Here's Jen's favorite student

(me, favorite student, Jen)

And the group! (You can't quite see me....top right, white face)

Another unique opportunity for cross cultural exchange. Steve’s work partner Kasim recently became a father for a third time, a healthy baby boy being born during our trip. This meant the boy was going to have to be named, and thus a traditional Muslim baby naming would be held.

Held on a Saturday morning, we arrived at Kasim’s at 8.30am to find all the traditional trappings – rows of rented plastic chairs, oversized blown out speakers, cases of small sodas stacked in the corner and a gaggle of women at the edge of the yard cooking wildly.

What was different was that at one edge of the square there were long mats rolled out and a series of older village men and women were singing, chanting and, well, yodeling.

The ceremony itself was very short with the Imam chanting briefly, followed by several rounds of charity donations made to the villagers sitting on the mats. As Kasim explained to us, the Imam said a prayer in which he mentioned the boy’s name – Abdullah, btw – and the charity given in his name was in the spirit of Islam’s pillar of charity, setting him on the path for a devoted life.

And we ate, and drank, and ate some more. I mean, it was a Beninese party, it's what we do here.

October was a big travel month as we headed off to Ghana and returned to Benin with Steve’s parents. The trip was originally planned around the October sitting of the Law School Admissions Test, which both of us took. We went over a few days before the test to acclimate and enjoy Accra.

Enjoy Accra you ask? Yes, because Accra might just as well be San Diego, remarkable not for what it is but where. Highways, neighborhood subdivisions, English, overpasses, functioning public transit, multinational corporations, ice cream – basically everything Cotonou isn’t. We took two days to just relax ahead of the test and keep stress to a minimum.

The test was held in the US Embassy, a massive complex of the type only the US government can build. This sitting was the only held in West Africa and only one of two on the continent. As such the room was a nice representative sample of Peace Corps volunteerism in the region, accompanied by a dozen or so Africans applying to JD or LLM programs in the US. We took the test, and then it was over.

The next day Steve’s folks arrived and after a brief mix up at the airport, we were off to the Cape Coast. Here is a sampling of photos from the Ghana portion of the trip, and we’ll pick up the narrative on the way back to Benin.

Barb and Bob on the beach of Elmina

Bob walking on the canopy walk in Kakum National Park

View of the ships in Elmina harbor

Good time all around in Ghana, but it was off to Benin for some French and a look at life in Africa in a way only a local could show. Our Ghanaian driver My Brother (yes, that was his name) dropped us at the Togo border and my folks got their first look at a West African border crossing (for two people used to Niagara Falls, this was a bit of a departure).

Bob and Barb with My Brother at the border

Much to Bob’s amusement, Jaren negotiated hard for a fair cab price -- maybe a little too hard as the guy decided to channel his shame into the gas pedal. We arrived in Cotonou from Lome close to an hour ahead of schedule, although it probably took that hour for our respective heart rates to come back to normal levels.

From here we were off to Tchaourou and a look into our everyday lives. We took the morning bus up, putting us in town by mid-afternoon. We settled in and took a brief tour of town to greet some people and do a bit of planning for the next night’s fete.

en route to Chez Schwartz in Tchaourou

That night was interesting, a first chance for Steve to see his parent so far outside of their comfort zone. Outdoor latrine, bucket baths, fetching water. Making matters worse, with the house having been shuttered for two weeks it had become extremely stuffy, and Steve slept poorly that night convinced that he was slowly roasting his parents. Mercifully, the house eventually cooled down and the folks slept fine.

Day too was a closer work of our day to day work starting at the local health clinic. Bob was a kid in a candy store, nose deep in all sorts of procedures and technologies he’d not seen used in 30 years (“he’s testing for TB with a Bunsen Burner!”). From there we went up to Tchalla to see the women’s savings and credit association and follow up on the groups activities. Not only had the ladies successfully reimbursed and redistributed their credit, but they also began to develop a financing scheme for a larger gari production operation. Anne and Clementine were happy to show off their product and how they were planning to market it, and Barb and Bob got a better sense of what we do.

Next up was the In’game Pile fete, with Eric and Valerie helping us put together a traditional Beninese meal of assaulted tubers and peanut sauce. Everyone took their turn pitching in, even the guests of honor.

The trip up north concluded with a quick tour through Parakou to show off the town including the pork and peron palace Akuna Matata, along with a visit to the local Tchuk stand.

Drinking Tchuk with fellow volunteers Tim (bearded guy) and Ben

From there we took a meandering taxi ride back down to Cotonou that included stops in Dassa and Abomey.

Finally, launching from Hotel du Lac we took a daytrip up to the Ganvie stilt village.

Bob bought a throne.

And with that, the month of travel was over and we were back to Tchaourou to keep fighting the good fight.

For more pictures of Barb and Bob's Excellent African Adventure click HERE

THIS POST IS GROSS. IF YOU'RE SQUEAMISH JUST SKIP IT.

Officially it was a staph infection, although others have speculated that, based on the pictures, it was necrotizing fasciitis. Regardless, as Jaren and everyone else is quick to remind him, STEVE BROUGHT THIS ON HIMSELF.

It started simply, just a mosquito bite on the calf. But then he picked the scab. And picked it again. Hey why not a third time. Eventually, a white ring formed around the wound, and only at the site of puss did he bother to care for it properly with disinfectant and bandages. Just a mosquito bite, right?

Wrong. As it so happens a month earlier a similar chain of events led to a few local infections on Steve's heels and we're cared for in a similarly slapdash matter. But with all this bacteria running around below his knees, something had to give with the latest bite.

So about 3 days after the sign of infection in the mosquito bite on the calf, another weird white bump appeared about 1/2 inch above the offending bite. Thinking nothing of it Steve let it be. But then it grew and grew some more and some two days later it started to ooze a little, so Steve covered it thinking nothing of it. But it grew and grew and oozed and oozed, and then the area around it started to turn red and hot and it hurt. Being the super responsible individual that he is, Steve put a clean gauze and neosporin on it, wrapped it in an ace bandage and went to bed.

Well, Friday morning rolls around and the throbbing in his leg got to be such that there would be no more sleeping. Not wanting to wake Jaren, he stepped outside into the back area and unwrapped the bandage and lo and behold a maroon welt the size of a golf ball with a little white head like zit staring back at him. But wait, there's more. After 5 seconds the little white head erupted -- seriously erupted -- and what can only be described as a maynoaise/ketchup looking combination was POURING out of his leg under its own pressure. And pouring is not an exaggeration, as Jaren was made aware of the situation while in bed she heard the first burst splat on the ground and Steve mutter "oh sh*t" in a seriously worried tone she'd never heard out of him before. When all was said and done roughly half a liquid cup had exited forcefully and with no additional pressure.

From here it was a no brainer - call the Peace Corps doctor in Cotonou and head to Parakou for a visit with the Peace Corps's northern medical officer Dr. Mensah (who in addition to being the trauma specialist chief of surgery is also the head of the Beninese national Petanque association). Steve wrapped the leg back up with some gauze and an ace bandage as Jaren packed up and the two went out to the highway to flag down a car. 50 minutes later we were in Mensah's office where he proceeded to "irrigate the wound" (read: squeeze the hell out of it and dig around inside with some sharp scissors while all manner of hell came out) sans any local anesthesia.

Funny side story - to this point the entire proceeding with Mensah was in French and it was not known how much English he understood. While Mensah was a wonderfully professional doctor, Steve was a terribly amateurish patient and at one particularly painful moment during the irrigation Steve bellowed a terrible expletive (starts with a p, ends with an r, and has igfucke in the middle). Instantly recognizing his offense, he looked back to scan faces and see if he had gotten away with it, and was greeted with a sly, knowing grin on Mensah's face. Guess he speaks pretty good English.

The next three days were spent at the Parakou work station on a steady stream of antibiotics, fruit juice and old episodes of Dr. Who, intermixed with morning trips to Mensah's office for a change of dressing and monitoring. And eventually he got better, but let us never forget the moral of the story, that STEVE HAD NO ONE TO BLAME BUT HIMSELF.

Day 1 Photos

Day 2 Photos-Healing

Welcome Back Internauts! Yes it has been a while and no we don't have a good excuse. A reason sure, but not an excuse.

See, the last two months at post have been consumed with a combination of righting a grant proposal, studying for the LSATs and waiting for local politics settling down.

So to make it up to our dear readers, below we've listed links to a few posts from other volunteers on all the stuff we would have written about if we had brought our A game:

Matt on the DVD Guy

Allison in a voodoo protection ceremony

David on the Cotonou jazz scene

John Mark on the end of Ramadan

Appeals to help break the cycle of poverty in Africa are sadly nothing new – scenes of an malnourished child in the doorway of a scrap metal shack are all too common. However, the hungry child is not the only face of poverty in Africa, and breaking the poverty cycle involves programs to help those who don’t necessarily fit our set notions of what is a person in need.

Artisans play a major role in the Beninese economy by providing needed goods and services to their community. They are mostly small businesses that go unregistered with the government, and their growth potential is severely limited by an inability to access the types of business support services we consider common in the United States.

What is the program? Looking to break away from “business as usual”, funding from this program will help just over 100 artisans in the district of Tchaourou obtain the simple government-issued identification card (ID) needed to formalize and expand their respective businesses. Possession of an ID card opens up access to a variety of artisan support organizations and ministerial programs including equipment loan programs, export-import development opportunities, reasonably priced short and long-term credit options, and continuing technical education. Once card ownership among artisans in the district is near universal, representatives of the various support programs will be invited to participate in a trade fair- style exhibition and begin enrolling individuals in programs

Who is eligible? Focused on the district of Tchaourou, a town of 20,000 located in central Benin, the program targets informal members of the eight local trade associations listed below:

- Mechanics (Auto and Moto)

- Carpenters

- Welders and Blacksmiths

- Tailors and Seamstresses

- Electricians and Electrical Appliance Repair

- Masons- Hairdressers and Barbers

- Photographers and Videographers

What can you do to help? This program works best if it is businesses helping businesses, entrepreneurs who understand the struggles of trying to take a business to the next level. We are currently soliciting donations to meet our target $3,300 budget to cover the administrative costs of registration, and the community itself has pledged an additional $800 to cover the costs of the exhibition. To put these figures in context, based on the average small business loan given by partner programs, we estimate the formalization will allow the release of more than $20,000 in loans within the first year alone.

To make a tax-deductible donation, click here and follow the instructions.Are you in charge of corporate giving at work, or want to send something to the person who is? Use this link to get the easily emailed .pdf version of the project description and donation instructions.

This year marks the 40th anniversary of the Peace Corps in Benin (né Dahomey), and accordingly we had ourselves a nice little celebration/ exhibition to mark the occasion.

Events were spread over three days, starting with an art exhibition at the American Cultural Center. Of course, being a division of the State Department’s Public Diplomacy Section, the place was guarded as fortress and no cameras were allowed past the metal detectors (nothing, I mean nothing, says “welcome” to foreign nationals looking to learn about the United States like multiple layers of metal detectors and background checks, but I digress).

Day two’s event was an exhibition of service, showing off each of the sectors and the highlighting of a handful of key projects installed by volunteers. Here are the Small Enterprise Development and Rural Community Health boards:

Oh, and there was a standing dinner (probably the only party in the whole of the country that didn’t involve rented chairs). Want to see chaos? Host an open buffet for fresh-out-of-the-village Peace Corps volunteers.

Day three was the big one – swear in of the new volunteers. The highlight was the Steve Myers produced 10 minute video detailing the Peace Corps in Benin past and present. Hopefully I will be able to link the YouTube video soon.

Here's us instead listening to the speeches.

Here is the post-oath group photo with the Africa regional director Henry McCoy.

And there was a cake.

Odd moment though. At one point someone was giving a toast which included the phrase “to 40 great years and to 40 more,” a phrase which sent shivers down the spines of many volunteers. Evidently, we’re hoping for and expecting at least 40 more years of grinding poverty, inadequate health care and information, environmental degradation and technological ignorance that will necessitate the continued presence of the Peace Corps. Cheers?

So after Greg's departure, we loaded up onto the NTS bus and headed up to sweet home Tchaourou to show off some real Beninese living.

Arriving after dark and in a rainstorm, we luckily found a few kids who were willing to help us drag our luggage to the house and we were home. Mom did well with the setup - even the latrine at night didn't scare her too much. We slept well in anticipation of greeting dozens the next day.

And greet we did, up and down the main road, every shopkeeper and workshop had to welcome Mom to town and ask if she arrived well.

Ann in the market:

After many hours of this, we arrived at our destination - Steve's Sunday savings group/ Kasim's house for a dinner of AmiWo (pate rouge) and chicken

We were so warmly recieved and can't thank Kasim enough for the hospitality.

Sadly, the next day was Ann's last, but far be it from us to let it go out with anything less than a party. In celebration of our guest we teamed up with the neighbors for a big chicken dinner under the stars. The whole day was spent in preparation of the fest, and of course, here chicken dinner here involves a few extra steps:

Steve killed four chickens to honor his mother-in-law (and asks "what have you killed for your loved ones?") - two to be baked and two to be fried soul-food style (side note: Breaded and deep fried wasa new but VERY well received recipie).

Ann with the kids:

Giving cadeaux

Ann with Eric and Eric's card

Sadly, the next day we returned to Cotonou and said good bye to Ann, who as we assured everyone in town afterwords, arrived home safe and sound.

Good trip all around.

In the Tichy family lore, there is a wonderful tradition of renewing vows every 5 years in an interesting way. Seeing as how both coasts -- land and sea -- were already covered, we decided to surprise the folks on this 35 anniversary year with an African wedding.

And first the invitation the day before the wedding, in French and tucked in a box made of a hollowed gourd.

Among the elements that made up the fete were matching traditional tissue outfits, on display below. And no wedding is complete without an officiant, so we turned to one of our dearest friends here, Mr. Steve Myers, who as fortune would have is ordained by the internet (or rather by one of its specific web sites). He was honored to be asked and we were lucky to have him as he prepared a wonderful elocution for the service.

The beachside ceremony saw the bride enter from around a palm tree to the sound of African drums and singing (group pictured below post-ceremony).

Steve elocuting:

After the ceremony, we retired to the patio for drinks and a bit of dancing with the drummers.

The assembled throng

And to top things off, the wedding fell on Greg's birthday and so following a mid-ceremony serenade of "Happy Birthday" (totally unprompted and apparently the only song the drummers knew in English), we too gave the day its proper due.

Our first visitors, Ann and Greg Tichy. This was a big one as their arrival marked just about our half way point in Benin, and for months had been something we spoke about almost in abstract as something that was going to happen in a then-intangible future time. But then the day came and they were here, and merriment was had.

Arriving with bear hugs and thousands of stories from the past year (and of course "Camp Tichy" shirts), we spent the first leg of our trip in and around Cotonou, giving everyone a chance to get settled and allowing us to take hot showers (So Nice!) at Benin's Hotel Marina. Quite honestly, for the first bit of time the priority was spending time together, so if it seems like we didn't do much it is because catching up was happening.

Day one was the tour of Cotonou and dinner in town. Seeing - and smelling - the urban expanse was certainly an experience, but one that allowed for some introspection on the difference between the developed and developing world.

Day two was our trip to Ganvie, the stilt village. Built in the center of a lake by a tribe fleeing enslavement, it is now a popular destination for those looking for a unique twist on traditional village life. Touring gondola-style, we took in the sights, sounds and smells, and as luck would have it there was a funeral celebration that day which meant all sorts of over the top partying was happing on the lake.

Traditional stilt hut

Business installation

We three in the boat. Only time Greg's knuckles left the seat all say.

Taking a break from sitting in the boat

After getting back to the hotel for some more R and R, we prepared ourselves for the next day's journey out to the seaside village of Grand Popo -- with a little surprise in store. But, before the surprise, we took a day trip to visit Ouidah, the former slave port and birthplace of voodoo.

Here we are under the "door of no return"

And so it was, with all the running around our one year anniversary in country (July 21) came and went without notice on this here blog. However, a few weeks back Steve had a moment that pretty much summed it all up perfectly. In his own words.

“In the Parakou workstation on a Sunday morning and have a couple of hours to kill before going back to post. Decided to pop in a classic Sunday morning on TNT type movie and sadly neither Rocky 4 nor Shawshank Redemption are anywhere to be found. Instead I opted for the 80s romantic comedy classic When Harry Met Sally, Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan at their respective bests.

So I’m settled in, going through “Ben Small, of the Coney Island Smalls,” the overly peppered paprikash and the ever popular “So I went to her willage,” finally arriving on the legendary diner scene. You know, the one with Meg Ryan seeming to, um, rather enjoying herself and Rob Reiner’s mother requests “what she’s having” (side note: why is it always “Rob Reiner’s mother” and not “Carl Reiner’s wife” when the story of filming that scene is retold?). So I’m sitting there watching the scene and for the life of me I swear this is my internal monologue:

‘Damn, is that a sandwich? Look at that thing. Betcha its pastrami, or maybe corned beef. New York deli, gotta be one of the two. Oh god, rye bread. Gotta be pastrami, definitely. Man could I go for a hot pastrami sandwich right now. With mustard, meat piled all high, salt and garlic soaked in the meat, little cracked pepper on the edge - I can just taste it.’ young, attractive woman is in the throws of carnal bliss and I’m totally fixated on the idea of a deli sandwich.”

So yeah, one year down, one to go.

The new volunteers of PSL 21arrived early in July, marking our (PSL 20) official debut as "seasoned volunteers." Without dwelling too much on the arrivals themselves (you'll hear much more over the coming year about some of them, while others will surely be dropping out of the program and thus our hearts), it is worth noting the impact their arrival has had on us. And no better way to do that than quote Rachel Miller, the soon to be departing (PSL 19) volunteer from nearby Guinigourou.

"It's like Super Mario Bros. - they walk off the plane and you become like Mario eating a mushroom. boopbooPboOPbOOPBOOP. Grown up in an instant."

Exactly. However, we must sadly report that we have no pictures of their arrival, so instead we're posting two pictures of highly amusing PSL21 volunteers Kyle and Dennis looking bewildered.

3 days, 2 pigs and a whole bunch of old fashioned meal preparation. Warning -- for those of weak constitution this post could be a little gruesome, if you skip the post our feelings won

t be hurt. And for those of a more semitic constitution, the post is SUPER traif-y.

Amongst all the things we love about Benin, one of best has to be the time and resources we are afforded to cooking from scratch. And we're not talking about basic processing ahead of the meal, we mean from the very beginning. Still oinking beginning.

In that spirit, Porkfest was planned by a group of current volunteers who had spent much of the past year waxing nostalgic about all the delicious swine-based foodstuffs they missed. The goal was to prepare a variety of different items using the same animal, partly as a demonstration to host country nationals and partly to indulge our own cravings.

Day 1 pig, seen below in transit from the butcher (slaughter and basic cleaning was done by a local retaurant in exchange for samples and savoir faire. By days end this pig had become:

Ham

Cased sausage

Ground sausage breakfast patties (or scrapple if you're from eastern Pennsylvania)

Pork rinds

Lard (then used in pie crusts)

Ribs and spareribs

Sadly, bacon didn't make the cut (no pun intended) as the pig simply wasn't fatty enough. Side dishes included salads and cornbread.

Day two menu was a whole spitfired pig, pit roasted over 10 hours to perfection.

June 22-29 was Camp GLOW in Parkaou. Camp GLOW is the annual girls camp hosted by Peace Corps that brings girls out of their small villages and into the big city. It empowers them to be leaders and shows them life outside the village. The week was jam-packed full of activities, field trips and seminars. In brief the PCVs taught girls about goals and motivations, malaria, HIV/AIDS, sport and exercise, computers and much more. The girls were lucky to go on a few outings around town to SONGHI Center, the self-sustaining farm; University at Parakou; and ORTB, the local boacasting studio of the national radio and TV station.

Highlights include playing dizzy-bat; seeing the girls interact with each other and making FanMilk money pouches!

Here are just a few pictures from throughout the week.

The girls paying attention to the Director of SONGHI Center

Lizzy teaching the girls aerobics

The girls playing around on the computers. For some, it was their first time seeing and using computers.

Group photo

So for not updating for a month and then dropping a ton of posts on you dear reader, we figure we better have a good excuse (or at least a passable one, preferably not involving princely Nigerian con-men and spam emails). In our defense, we’ve been busily plugging away at our day jobs supporting the Social Promotion Center and Artisans collectives respectively – and in some cases together. For regular readers, you should recognize some of the projects but for the rest we’ll give a bit more background. In no particular order:

- Enriched Porridge: This was the project started by Jaren several months back which has since morphed into what we hope will be a cross-sectoral triumph. Drawing from the problem of rampant Kwashiakor (kind of astonishing having protein deficiency in cattle country, but more on that later), Jaren explored ways to introduce different yet culturally sensitive foods into the diets of children under the age of five. Excluding the breast milk they’re given up to six months (when most mothers abruptly stop breast feeding and start force-feeding a cornmeal porridge down their infants throats), kids here have a near exclusive carbohydrate diet. Protein in the form of meat is the providence of papa and mama and whatever is left gets spread out among the children based on seniority. Thus the pot bellies, red hair and sunken eyes (not to mention below average neurological development) are so common they’ve been misappropriated in local culture as signs of good health.

That’s where we come in. Jaren embraced the idea that if mothers started feeding a protein-enhanced porridge to their kids it would be the most effective preventative measure against malnutrition (not rocket science by American standards, but if you’ve been reading this blog long enough you know by now we’re not exactly in Kansas anymore). Where it got tricky was convincing the women to do it – “because I said so” isn’t exactly a universally appreciated change agent and besides it’s a pile of extra work and expense for each woman to prepare the porridge. That’s where Steve stepped in (rather butted in, but who’s keeping track?) with the idea that if we could set up enriched porridge vendors with a sustainable business model and taught them to market the “value-add” by disseminating information about protein deficiency, we would have a pretty nifty project to fight malnutrition AND help develop small businesses.

And so we are. In the past few weeks we have worked to teach a woman who lives on Jaren’s morning running route named Amoudatou how to make enriched porridge by mixing equal parts ground soja and corn flour, calculated with her the costs and per bowl pricing (even as global commodity prices shoot up, she should be able to turn a good profit), taught her how to regurgitate key talking points on protein deficiency when prompted and even made up a sign for her to illustrate the differences between healthy and unhealthy kids (picture below and we’ll let you guess which is which). Jaren even spent last Friday weighing all the kids that live in Amoudatou’s neighborhood for a baseline against which progress can be measured. First batch should roll out this Friday morning, and first weigh in is in a month so we’ll keep you posted.

- Combating Child Trafficking: Following last month’s wildly successful concert to raise awareness about child trafficking (quite modest, aren’t we), Jaren is now organizing the follow up recording session for the winners. Winners in the poem, sketch and song (reggae, rap, soul-chilling ballad) will record their winning performances in French, which will then be distributed to local radio stations, relevant NGOs, gendarmeries/police, social centers and Peace Corps volunteers nationwide. Steve’s even got delusions about sending a few tracks to the BBC “Wake Up Africa” morning show’s daily musical showcase feature (sadly, not as a replacement for the record scratch/rooster crow combo that launches the show every day just after the actual roosters in our neighborhood have finally shut the hell up).

- Sex Ed Presentations: (Parental Advisory: Not for readers with tender sensibilities – feel free to the accounting roundup.) Jaren was contacted by fellow volunteer Lizzy to come lead a presentation of the myths, realities and consequences of le rapport sexuel. A middle school English teacher in Ouesse, a town some 60 km south east of Tchaourou, Lizzy had seen three girls get pregnant in the matter of a few weeks and decided the kids mostly aged between 12-18 needed a good talking to about responsibility and the realities of sexual activity. However, being a teacher in the school and living in the community she was a bit uncomfortable leading the conversation herself so she called Jaren in as someone who could speak openly with the kids without all the baggage of having to ever see these kids again.

The pair divided the kids into gender specific groups. With the girls the conversation focused on the choice to have sex or not, including a review of the “pressure lines” that boys tend to use and how they can respond (evidently hormonally-handicapped teenage boys are the same the world over as they use the same crap to convince girls to betray their better judgment). The discussion also touched on the consequences of sex (unwanted pregnancies, STDs, getting kicked out of school, etc) and a condom demonstration was given. With the boys the speech was a little different, addressing the consequences of having sex and the responsibility to protect themselves and their partners. Condom demonstrations were also done, and thanks to Population Services International they were able to give each student a few condoms to take home. Hopefully they’ll be smart enough to use them.

- Accounting Classes: Six local artisans were trained in basic accounting and how to teach it. While we still haven’t been able to schedule a second wave class (some conflicts unique to this time of year including the testing out of apprenticeships and the beginning of the rainy season), there are over a dozen who have in principal signed up. In the mean time a few of the teachers are “freelancing” a bit and have taught colleagues and neighbors how to keep a cash ledger. Not the sexiest project in Peace Corps but if any business development is going to be done we had to have the foundation of objective information and transparency.

- Identity Card: This is Steve’s baby. The government and the international community have made all sorts of support programs available to artisans – rent-to-own equipment loans, export/ import supports, banking and legal supports, really anything you can imagine. The problem is the artisan needs to have a national ID card -- think Social Security card with a photo -- to take advantage of these programs and wouldn’t you know it, little to nothing is done to help artisans get that one little piece of identification (one thing there is no shortage of here are cart-drawn-horses). It’s not a tough process but it involves two or more bureaucrats so the likelihood of it being needlessly opaque and possibly crooked increases exponentially. If the artisan already has a birth certificate, it’s a matter of doing a little paper work and paying a processing fee at the mayor’s office. Without a birth certificate it involves going through the provincial court in Parakou to obtain one – simple, right?

Thus, Steve has resolved to put together a program where all administrative procedures are handled en masse, forms are standardized and simplified for the user, and all the interactions take place in a public or semi-public venue. He’s spent the past month going to all of the association meetings to take relevant information from artisans in need of ID. He’s banking on good relations with the Chef d’Arrondissment and with the mayor’s office to help things move along, and is going to be putting together a Peace Corps Partnership Proposal to cover 75% of the costs (PCPP’s are the mechanism for volunteers to fund projects via their communities back home . To check out the current list, click here).

And here’s the best part – on the day cards are distributed there will be a little “party” where representatives from all the artisan support programs will come present, give examples of successful applications of their service and have on hand all the relevant forms to start a request.

Nothing says sexy development work like ID cards and service provider conventions, eh?

- CAMEC/ Strategic Management: Another one that is growing into a joint project. In the past few years the Millennium Challenge Corporation has helped the Beninese government establish a commercial arbitration system under the Chamber of Commerce (dubbed CAMeC) that should vastly improve the business environment. Along with the formidable yet affable Steve Meyers who is posted in the CAMeC office in Cotonou, our Steve has been able to draft the domestic and international marketing plans for the program. Taking the chance to reach back into his bag of tricks from his day’s as one of Walek’s merry band of Associates he drew up a plan that combines five different streams of public activity to raise awareness of services available and create a broader legal awareness (some standard media relations stuff for the domestic market, some press work targeting international financial markets, partnership programs with the domestic bar association are all pretty straight up; the proposed radio serial to create a Beninese commercial law version of “Law & Order” a bit more far out but not beyond the realm of possibility).

However, the real key to the plan is the one that works directly toward increasing demand for CAMeC arbitration services by increasing the amount of contracts in dispute. As Steve has seen over and over (and over and over and over) in Tchaourou, there are a lot of strategic business decisions artisans would like to make to better their businesses but don’t have the mechanisms and support to pull them off – things like merging businesses, marketing cooperatives, group purchasing agreements, warranties and other value-add pricing tools, subcontracting etc... So why not create a strategic management guide for artisans that comes complete with a variety of boilerplate contracts for basic business purposes? Think a plain language “business-in-a-box” kit tailored for the local market with simply worded explanations of management ideas and a step-by-step negotiating guide that corresponds to a boilerplate contract (one that of course includes the CAMeC clause). Given Jaren’s advanced French capabilities and desire to matriculate at one of the United States’ fine institutions of legal education after Peace Corps, her offer to join the project was warmly embraced.

Now, we are very aware of the limits of one size fits all contracts, especially for things like mergers – listen, we’re not doing Delta-Northwest here, just helping some folks take advantage of some economies of scale and amplified voices. And the best part – wait for it – is we get to roll this thing out in Tchaourou, allowing Steve to have the tools to help some of the more ambitious in this community make the leap.

- Savings and Credit Groups: Banking sucks something terrible in Benin, no way to sugarcoat it. We mean really sucks. They’re either too big to care or so crooked nobody takes them serious (or both as evidenced by the story of a volunteer who was told by the bank when she went to close her account that she owed them the equivalent of $50 for “holding her money for her.” Wrap your head around that one). Most people keep literally money under the mattress despite the high probability that it will be stolen by a family member or eaten by a mouse, as it is still safer than putting money in a bank that is constantly imposing unannounced arbitrary fees. For lending there are also a rash of state owned or affiliated microcredit organizations but they too have problems, mostly that people are less likely to repay faceless organizations anonymously headed in Cotonou and therefore the organizations have been forced to adopt ridiculous interest rates and fees to cover the cost of defaulted loans. Really, we didn’t believe the types of things people were telling us about trying to get loans here for about 6 months – institutional loan-sharking is about the best way to put it.

So what is your average village man or woman to do when she can’t trust anyone else to do something for her? How about gang up with others in her situation, save together, give loans to members and then divide up the profits from the loans. Sounds familiar right, kinda like the credit union down the road from where you're sitting right now?

In fact that’s exactly what we’re doing except that instead of a vault there is a sheet metal box with three locks on it, each key being guarded by a different woman. Records are kept in a very simple manner using stamps in photocopied savings registers and all transactions are done in front of the group, therefore creating total transparency. The group votes on loan applications demanding small sums for short amounts of time, and money is only lent if the group believes the purpose is one that will generate the necessary funds to repay. There is also a small social fund for the group to give financial gift to people in emergency situations (ain’t that sweet). And unlike the other organizations, if you don’t repay your friends and neighbors are at your front door demanding to find out where their damn money is.

So far Tchaourou is home to two of these groups (pictured above), one of which is a group of women who transform gari (shredded sweet potatoes) and happen to be one of the groups moving into the store fronts being built here. Guess who’s got a plan to use the one group as an example for the other nine? On a quick calculation, if we could get all ten saving and loaning together, we would mobilize roughly 2,600,000 CFA ($6,500) a year in self managed micro credit loans? Better yet, the savers would actually earn interest, a task that is otherwise terribly hard to do around these parts.

- Butchering Business: We live in a big cattle town, kind of the Kansas City of Benin, and yet there are kids with protein deficiency running around everywhere. Steve’s solid rapport with the butcher has given us a better picture of how this happens, and it pretty much comes down to three factors:

o Arbitrarily high fees to local government for each head of beef processed (Jack Abramoff is a semi-skilled amateur compared to some of the dirty tricks going on over here)

o Poor repayment rates on credit extended by butcher

o General belief that access to protein should be governed by seniority in the family

Now we know we can’t do a thing about the first, although we were happy to hear that there is a national effort underway to have those fees cut if not eliminated. As for the other two, Steve is going to work with Salou to create a credit management system that would allow him to better track and assess clients – restaurants and retail vendors mostly -- and therefore be able to better “price his risk.” It will be interesting - Salou is a halal butcher and therefore does not deal with interest, but the thinking is that down payments and other fees for chronically unreliable clients should work.

As for the second part, it will really be an extension of the enriched porridge project mentioned earlier in teaching families about the importance of giving kids protein. This one is in the early stages, more to come.

Baseball: The hot season shooed us off the field (you play ball in 125 degree midday sun) and when it finally relented, the kids had to get ready for finals. We’re hoping to get back on track very soon, think we’ve even found a field with a manageable amount of grass.

- Grand Popo: It’s a long story…

While in our local boutique/store, I noticed this guy's hat. Small world, he's been to Spokane too!

Apparently he bought this hat in Abuja, Nigeria. Does he know Spokane is NOT in Nigeria?

Regardless, I got a taste of home today.

Just turned up in Parakou one day, right at the Tchaourou taxi stand like a frosty delicious kiss from an angel.

Here is the article Steve submitted for our bi-monthly newsletter, comments and personal highlights to follow:

Under clear skies they took off from Parakou, not looking back but with a good deal of looking uphill in their collective future.

Spanning May 9- 12, this year’s edition of the annual Borgou Bike Tour took a mob of 18 PCV’s and six Beninese translators on a 180km trek through the rolling hills of the eastern Borgou with the goal of disseminating information on HIV/AIDS prevention to residents of the 16 towns and villages punctuating the route. The terre rouge roads between Parakou and Kalélé gave the group their fare share of challenges -- even registering a few casualties – but by the time the riders reached the finish they could brag over 4,200 men, women and children had received age-tailored information on HIV/AIDS prevention and condoms courtesy of Populations Services International (PSI).

Riding between 25 and 50km per day, the group wound their way through Guinigourou, Perere, Nikki and ultimately arriving in Kalélé in the mid afternoon on the 12th. Mercifully the weather cooperated, providing sufficient cloud cover when it seemed most needed but never breaking into rain.

“ It was an amazing ride, I’m really proud of everyone who worked their [backsides] off,” commented tour coordinator Rachel Miller, “And more importantly, I don’t think we could have done it without the Corps Volunteers Beninoise.”

Four representatives of the year-old volunteer organization, along with Mr. David Ogodadja of Guinagourou, provided the group with invaluable Bariba, Peuhl and Gando expertise to engage the age and gender divided groups in each site. ,They were also joined by a young man quickly dubbed “Saka Moto” by the riders to fill the role of chase car.

For the information sessions, each demographic – older men, older women, young men, young women and young children – was presented information on the dangers of HIV/AIDS and was invited to discuss how they could go about preventing the disease. In the cases of the young men and women, condom demonstrations were also a crucial part of the presentation.

“The best part was watching the girls who did have some knowledge of AIDS and condoms take the lead,” said Sandy Phillips, “because it is them the others will actually go to for advice in the future.”.

For the older members of the community, the emphasis was placed on the influence of their experienced voices in the community and encouraged the senior community leaders, including the several Bariba kings who joined the sessions, to use that influence to stress the importance of HIV/AIDS prevention.

As for the children, the sessions were more sing-along than true sensibilisation. Led by CVB president Ibrahim Tchan with a guitar carried on his back throughout the bike ride, the children sang about the importance of making good decisions throughout their lives and taking responsibility for themselves. Just as important as the message, giving the kids an engaging activity allowed the other groups to discuss without interruption.

Coordinating the event was no small task, and Miller was quick to point out the help she had in organizing. She specifically wanted to thank PCVs Leslie Wright and Ryan Vroegindewey for making overnight arrangements in Nikki, as well as Sandy Phillips and James Fischer for doing the same in Kalale along with a festive reception from the local Scout troop.

Financial support came from the mayors of Nikki and Kalale, each providing 30.000 CFA to cover costs. The group also received vital material support in the form of 840 sachets of Alafia water, partially carried in small quantities by the riders and the rest delivered in super sacks to each of the overnight stops. Advance publicity was donated by Radio DEEMAN out of Parakou with Bariba language announcements broadcast across the area.

And to that end, the on site publicity came from the 24 multi-racial mountain bikers -- armed with condoms, phalli and a vital message -- who came into each town along the way hoping the attention they drew gave them the forum to make a difference.

So yeah, we did that. Very cool experience, despite Jaren riding two days with a rubbing brake pad (mechanical flaw with springs in the mechanism) and Steve riding the entire first day in high gear (stupidity, machismo and more stupidity). It was interesting to get out into some of the further reaches and realize that sometimes people understood more than you thought they might, and yet other times you found yourself bowled over by the levels of ignorance on basic things like how the human body works.

Some pictures, in no particular order:

Rolling into some village

Sitting with the old men, giving the local king rubbers

Keeping the kids distracted

At the high school in Perere

Condom demonstration (phalli not visible)

Jaren and her ride

Be glad you can't smell him in this picture

Taking a break in the last village (no lie, there were THOUSANDS of bats in that tree)

Another booming metropolis

Buckwheat!

Village with a really nice nairi tree

Kilometers on kilometers of terre rouge (surprise, its an uphill!)

The Schwartz's

Other highlights and notables included Steve getting the kids running along side of his bike to chant “Ali Boo mbye!” as they ran, Bariba kings showing up at all the sensibilisaitons, the views between Nikki and Kalele, Jaren riding 100+km with a case of amoebic dysentery (she’s a tough cookie), sitting under the tree with 1000 bats in it, the ragu with wasa wasa (think mashed potatoes and cous cous with tomatos and onions) in Nikki, Jaren slipping pre-chewed meat onto Steve’s plate and not saying anything until after he’d eaten it, the kid in the Sidney Crosby Penguins t shirt in some podunk village, the girl in the Osama bin Laden t shirt in some podunk village, and the immense joy of a good downhill.

May 15 marked the 15th annual international family day. This event made national news as the Minister of Family, Women and Children selected Tchaourou as her celebration site. We were fortunate enough to join in the festivities as a family.

The party commenced with the distribution of free t-shirts followed by the performances of several bands and dance troops. Before long, the Minister arrived with her entourage: representatives from UNICEF, UNFPA, and regional directors from the Borgou.

Dancing troop entertaining the big wigs

Model families receiving gifts from the Minister.

Our neighbors with some of their friends performed a singing poem as well as a brief play interpreting the importance of family.

And here's us with our neighbors wearing our meme tissue:

Maybe more like snapped it's neck in one swift door-closing motion. The picture doesn't do total justice to the fact that lizard's head is at a REALLY unnatural angle.

Concerning all the blood, at least when the angel of death does his house to house, our first born should be fine.

Jaren and another PCV, Chanti Johnson, organized a talent extravaganza as an awareness campaign about child trafficking in Parakou. Local artists from around the area registered to perform original songs, poems, comedies, plays and dances interpreting child trafficking and the theme, “Nul part n’est mieux que chez nous”. Three members from the community judged the competition to choose the best of all talent categories. The winners will, at a later date, record their talents onto a CD that will be disseminated throughout the country.

The event was a huge success. With a week’s worth of radio publicity and interviews, we were able to draw a crowd of a couple hundred including mostly of students and young professionals.

Here are pictures of various acts:

Our neighbor Eric tapping his inner-thespian

Theater troupe showing the inevitable problems that come from sending a kid to a relative for domestic work (silly hat optional)

These boys dancing tried to hard - but looked so unbelievably ridiculous doing so. Imagine four people having simultaneous seizures wearing Stan Smith-era tennis whites and Saturday morning clown show ties.

Our neighbor Claude singing a really touching and well performed ballad

Our first anniversary as man and wife, Mr. And Mrs., Monsieur et Madam, Yovo and Baturi.

Remember those days? We were so CLEAN!

Congratulations us.

Food poisoning became a problem in Tchaourou the end of last year because the foodstuff was not being properly stored and handled. (Don’t worry, we never got sick). As a result, Jaren’s amazing supervisor asked the Minister of Family, Women and Children for money and received enough to build storage rooms/store fronts as well as transformation rooms for the CPS to monitor processing. This foodstuff includes in’games (the big tuber starch), manioc (another big tuber starch), and corn that the local womens groups process into products to sell (dried in’games for pile, manioc for gari, dried corn for pate, etc). Each group will receive a room to store the organic foods and sell their processed goods. Additionally, 3 large rooms will be constructed for the women to transform their products, all under the supervision of the CPS to prevent contamination. These rooms will also be used as a seminar space where the women's groups will be taught accounting. Steve plans to use this project as a platform to start women's groups savings and credit unions.

Here are pictures within the first week of work.

To unveil the project, the Minister of Family, Women and Children came to Tchaourou.

On the far left we have the Mayor of Tchaourou and next to him (in the pink & purple modele) is the Minister who praised the project and its objectives.

Stay tuned for the final product.

I (Jaren) had an in-service training in Lokossa for a few days and while down south took the opportunity to visit the hippos that reside in a neighboring lake. Along with 5 PCVs from Togo I boarded a long, narrow wooden boat carved out of a tree trunk and set off on the water.

The guide used a long pole -- similar to what is used in Venice -- to push and direct the boat. Though unlike the Italians, the bottom of the pole was capped with a Gino (the local brand of tomato paste) can for more stability. Oh, the Beninese.

While out on the water, the two hippos that are the lake’s residents were spotted: the mama and the baby. Unable to get too close to the hippos (unless we were to be dinner) we saw their heads bobbing up and down.

We also saw local fisherman out on the lake. Fishing here in Benin is done the old fashioned way- casting a net and waiting for the fish to swim into it before picking up the net. We accidentally paddled over one fisherman’s net and ripped it. There went his catch for the day.

At the end of the excursion our guide welcomed us into his home for a “thank you for participating” mandatory sodabe shot. As the shot burned down my throat, I was glad I saw the not so hungry, hungry hippos.