24 February 2010

7 months down and counting! For the past month, Ricky and I have both been working on just getting projects together to work on. While I have the sage femme to work with who is motivated and really likes me, no real work actually seems to be accomplished for a number of reasons - no translator for Bariba, gongoners (town criers) are out of town or just not available to inform the village when/where we’ll be doing a sensibilization, one of us is sick, etc. Ricky, on the other hand, has no real motivated work partner which is disheartening, but he has been able to bike around and found some gardening groups to work with which seems promising. It’s ridiculous how hard it is to accomplish the simplest tasks here.

Last week we took our first vacation to do a safari at Parc Pendjari. The sun was blazing hot, the food was delicious (3 course meals, wow!), and the pool was amazingly refreshingly. We saw baboons, hippos, elephants, wart hogs, antelopes, some crazy bird with a beard bigger than it’s body called a maribeau (sp?), some huge alligator/lizard type of reptile, among other things but I was disappointed we couldn’t find any lions - although our guide did find tracks in the sand and that was exciting. After a full day of riding on top of the car, it was disgusting how filthy we got - literally you could draw pictures in the dirt caked on my skin. After our second day of safari, we stopped at the Cascades de Tanagou for a swim. The drop is about 50 feet and the whole area is really stunning, like a little oasis in the middle of the desert.

Speaking of the desert, chaleur (the hot season) has begun. When I once could sleep with a fleece blanket at night, I’m now back to sweating the bed. It’s so gross sometimes you wake up and are so wet you really question whether or not you really did pee your pants. Pretty much the only time I’m not sweating is while I’m showering - which is why after our kiddie pool party at the workstation 2 days ago I now want to try and build a pool at post to sit in all day. We did already order cots so we can sleep outside at night now because inside the house is just unbearable. What’s really weird though is our thermometer doesn’t say it that much hotter - ie. 95 degrees at 8am instead of 80, and of course it still maxes out at over 120 degrees in the afternoon - but the humidity must have skyrocketed because the heat just swallows you whole. Yuck!

March 10, 2010

We just got back from doing a bike tour of the Atacora region and at this point I am still undecided as to whether or not I’d like to do another one in the future. It is rewarding that this is the first real work we have accomplished and can quantify on reports - we visited 13 villages and did sensibilizations for 2,930 men, women, and children on potable water and hand sanitation as a means of illness prevention. However, the whole tour was planned kind of on a whim. We were biking in the heat of the day during chaleur which was absolutely brutal and most all of us got sick - either from all the rice and beans we ate, the water, or the just from overheating it’s hard to tell. It’s also ridiculous how sick and tired we were of repeating ourselves and our “Lavez les mains” song 13 times in only 4 days - enthusiasm definitely waned at the end, until we all took a much deserved break at the waterfalls and relaxed in Nati for a few days.

16 March 2010

It rained!!! It’s been over 5 months since we’ve seen a single drop of rain at post until last night. Jen was spending the night and we were sleeping outside on cots under the paillot because it was so freaking hot but then we were woken up by a super intense dust storm. The wind was blowing so hard it felt like we were in a tornado so we had to run inside. Then the lightening storm started and after much eager anticipation, we heard the rain begin to patter on the tin roof. Our concession must have thought we lost our minds because we were so excited of course we had to go stand outside to fully enjoy the experience. To make the night even better, the rains made the temperatures drop to a brisk 80 degrees (I had to sleep with a sheet I was so cold!) and we now have mango season to look forward to. Now if only chaleur would end…

13 December 2009

I miss the states! Before moving here I wondered what it would be like if I didn’t want to return home afterwards like how I didn’t want to leave France. But right now I couldn’t imagine anyone voluntarily choosing to live here if they didn’t have to. It’s not even the lack of electricity, clean running water, paved roads, or anything that really gets to me. It’s the food. I think about American food all the time. Ricky and I even cook most every meal for ourselves but with no meat, no fresh spices/herbs, and limited seasonal produce that goes bad with no refrigeration, we can’t exactly satisfy our cravings from home. That combined with not having our friends and family from home to spend time with gets kind of depressing. So, to keep ourselves sane, what have we been doing?

* Going to Natitingou to eat better and see other volunteers (and also for me to get rabies shots after being bitten by a kitten

* working on the garden - the fence Ricky built is keeping out sheep and goats (mostly) but chickens and dogs are still ravaging everything. So a lot of time has been spent making new row covers and protecting our compost pile.

* still getting the house furnished - 3 months later our armoire finally arrived so we could finally move our clothes out of our suitcases and I’ve been trying to decorate the walls to make it feel more like a home..

* I helped out during part of a seven day vaccination campaign against yellow fever - seeing as how I am literate and can speak French, everyone considers me more than qualified to give shots and were highly disappointed when I kept refusing to do so, but I stuck to filling out the health records (also a joke because you look at the patient and guess their age then ask their name and guess how to phonetically spell it, but no one is literate so they wouldn’t know if you got the information wrong anyway).

* Getting Bariba lessons from the priest of the Catholic church - we went to church a few times just to be sociable and he was so excited to have us there he said his goal is to have us do the sermons in Bariba.

* Playing with Biggie Smalls - our kitten who we once thought was the spawn of satan turned out to be pretty cool, but then she ran away….

* practicing biking - we signed up to do a bike tour in March of the whole region which should be fun and pretty but the dirt roads and heat will be killer.

5 January 2010

The holiday season has come and gone and the much awaited IST (in-service training) has begun. For Christmas we decided to be good volunteers and stay in our village for the “party” which ended up making me much more depressed than anticipated. I love the holidays - the shopping, the food, the cold, being around everyone, etc, and it made me very sad to know I was missing out on all those things while all of our friends and family still got to enjoy the season at home. But alas, making the best we could of the situation, Ricky and I spent Christmas day making biscuits with sausage gravy and eggs (thanks jiffy) and then we met up with a few of our Beninese friends to prepare dinner. They wanted to do an exchange of American and Beninese food so we prepared a huge pot of spaghetti (it was the only feasible option that could be prepared in large enough quantities) and they caught about 20 fish which we grilled and ate with the 3 meals our neighbors and the midwife gave us. All in all the day was good but it certainly was no Christmas - so we decided to take vacation early to relax for a while. The next day we left for Natitingou but stopped first at the Chutes de Kota - the waterfalls were stunning and we met some very generous missionaries from New Zealand who fed us and showed us their amazing house outside Nati. Afterwards we spent the next few days just eating well and vegging out with other volunteers at the workstation until I cut my lef and we had to leave for Parakou so I could get stitches. Alas, my New Year’s Eve was spent getting fixed up at the hospital, so afterwards we had to celebrate with wine (not in a box!), champagne, and dancing at a nearby club. After Parakou, we headed down to Cotonou and enjoyed the best cheeseburgers ever (at a very expensive $6 each!) then left for Porto Novo for training. It had been so long since our first training we had been eagerly anticipating being in Porto Novo again with easy access to many white people/hard to find items that we neglected to remember how bad the heat and humidity is here, everything is way more expensive, the people are ruder, and Peace Corps training sessions are mind-numbingly repetitive. I was so frustrated at post before we left but being here now is definitely making me appreciate our post more. Now if only our Christmas packages would arrive!

January 10, 2010

Happy Voodoo Day! (Check Youtube or national geographic for details)

23 January 2010

6 months down as of today! I’m finishing up my 14th book and an indoor/outdoor thermometer has become my new favorite toy (Winter season averages a little over a brisk 70 degree low in the AM, at which point I’m bundled in a jacket or a fleece blanket, and reaches some unknown and insanely high temperature in the afternoon - the thermometer only goes to 120 degrees, but luckily its dry enough that your sweat evaporates immediately). Coming back from our IST I was terrified of what a wreck out house would be but was pleasantly surprised to find just a few new friendly spiders. Our proprietor watered our garden for us 2x/day for a month which we were gone so now our lettuce is ready to harvest and the watermelon is on it’s way (Ricky’s home-made row covers were a success!). For about the past month or so I have been pretty frustrated with how tedious my time is spent at post and I’d been hoping that things would just turn around once we returned from training, and so far things seem to be working out in my favor.

1. My midwife Fidelia has been very happy and grateful that she got to go to Porto Novo with me after I confronted her supervisor and this has positively changed her outlook towards my work - she is now more than excited about my idea to build a pavillion and she is eager to help me with whatever I need. 2. I already helped with another vaccination day and blew their minds when I proposed alphabetizing their records and creating an organized filing system. 3. I saw another birth - this doesn’t get old, its incredible to watch. 4. Feeling good about the bike tour after our practice ride to Kouande 5. Whatever noisy critter we were housing in the roof appears to have moved out while we were gone so now I can get some sleep at night!

4 Nov 2009

Ricky and I have just returned from our banking trip in Nati. It’s amazing that everything that could have gone wrong did - but was counteracted by something even more positive. Here’s how the trip went:

We left our post Nov. 2 at 9 am, arrived in Kouande by 10:30, sat around and waited 2 hours for a taxi that barely made the journey (the front passengers had to hold their door closed the entire way) and was highly uncomfortable - but alas we finally arrived in Nati around 2 pm. So a 70 km journey took us about 5 hours. We were exhausted from the bad trip only to find out the bank was not working (our only reason for making the trip in the first place). But, we were able to borrow money from another volunteer and treat ourselves to our favorite restaurant with the best food for lunch and splurged on pizza for dinner. All ended well that night. That is, until 8 am the next morning when we returned to the bank find it still wasn’t working. Okay, patience. So we waited, and waited, for 10 ½ hors. The bank closes at 5pm but the floor manager had been talking to us all day and insisted we not leave and that eventually the system would start working again. We were confused as to what would happen afterhours in the bank, but the guy knew we were PCVs, we were out of money, and we couldn’t get back to post until the bank worked so he insisted we just sit there and keep waiting. Thank god it finally paid off. At about 7 pm, he convinced the bank manager to take our withdrawal slips and give us 270 mille (the equivalent of about $600) on the honor system simply because were volunteers and they trusted us and wanted to help us - we felt so privileged and undeserving of the preferential treatment, but of course we couldn’t turn it down. Even though we did need the money and we had been patient all day, they could have easily said sorry try again tomorrow like everyone else. So the day sucked but was redeemed tenfold by the bankers’ generosity. So - day 3 in Nati - we wake up, get our shopping done early, and try to catch an early taxi back to Kouande. Only 1 hour wait, not bad. We got the front seat (the most comfortable), things are looking up. Until the taxi breaks down. It only made it about 10 km before dying - just enough to be stuck in the middle of nowhere. Dear god. It’s blazing hot and the sun is about a UV index of 23 with not a cloud in the sky. We had to pay in advance for the ride (which is not uncommon) so if we tried to get another ride we’d just have to pay double - and that’s thinking positive assuming we could even find another ride. What to do. Us and the other 11 passengers start walking up the hill and not even 10 minutes pass before this nice Audi with two well dressed young men stops to help. But there’s a catch - they only want to pick up the two white people. The ride looks comfy and seems too good to be true to Ricky and I debate whether they singled us out because they wanted to rob us and if it would be safe. Looking behind us at the broken down taxi it seemed as though we didn’t have a choice, so we jumped in again feeling privileged and undeserving of the generosity since everyone else was just left there in the sun. So in the car, these 2 men tell us that have known many PCVs and think we are so generous that they had to return the favor and be nice to us. So we enjoyed our ride with early 90’s love songs and Michael Jackson and ended up getting beers with these men after arriving in Kouande. Then it only got better when they saved us a zem ride home, took us all the way back, and offered to cook us a dinner in 2 days. So for the third day in a row, what started out as a very disheartening situation turned amazing all because someone was exceedingly nice to us because were white and PCVs. It’s like the most positive racism ever. It’s undeniable that we are singled out everyday because we’re white - either it’s because it’s someone pointing and yelling yovo or baturi at us, or someone that just wants to touch your skin and feel your hair, or kneel on the ground before you in hopes of receiving a gift, or someone that just wants to hold your hand, and then there are those that go great lengths to do anything they can to help you. For better or worse, we are always treated differently - but I’ve been finding more and more that it’s usually for the better, whether we deserve it or not.

28 Sept 2009

In the past 2 weeks we’ve just been killing time until we could be at post. We took a field trip to Ouidah - the home of slavery, voodoo’s sacred forest, and a python temple (which we unfortunately missed). The best part of the trip though was definitely the ride home along the beach - it was filled with mud hut villages amongst coconut groves and amazing white sandy beaches. So then we eventually finished stage and got to swear in as official volunteers. To celebrate we splurged on an expensive (? Roughly $20) dinner of cheeseburgers, fries, milkshakes, and cold beer. It all tasted good but was so rich and fatty it made us feel sick and grotesquely full. If that’s after only 9 weeks I can’t imagine what it will be like to eat in the States again after 2 more years. But alas, the moment we had been waiting for has finally arrived and we moved to post yesterday. When I say “we moved” I really mean the kids in the village moved for us. As soon as we arrived the crowd kept growing and everyone unloaded all our things for us. I’m so happy to be here - I think the village is absolutely beautiful and the people are so nice and generous to us. Now we just have to spend some time making our house a home!

* PCV Standard - keeping track of the number of books read during service. I’ve heard numbers up in the 70’s. So far I’ve read 4.

* I found out modeles (the traditional dressy attire for women here) really suck! They are very hot, constricting, and uncomfortable. But, I have finally mastered wearing a pagne Beninese style with no training strings attached! It’s my new favorite outfit - looks basically just like a strapless dress.

8 Oct 2009

12 days at post and our house doesn’t look much more like a home than it did the day we arrived. We need furniture, it’s driving me crazy. However, we are in Africa and things can’t be just that easy. Our generous monetary allowances have set us over half way to becoming millionaires here - we have all the time in the world to do whatever we please - and the motivation to accomplish things, but nothing is happening.. Why is that, you may ask? Well, first of all there is no Ethan Allen or Laz-E-Boy to go stock up on our furniture. There is also no Home Depot or Lowe’s to buy all the materials and make things yourself. What you do have are carpenters who custom make anything you want (but quality and finished products can vary drastically depending on skill level). So alas, we keep putting in orders for furniture, even offering to pay extra for it to be finished quickly - but that just doesn’t translate here. So while I can’t complain about our living standards (ie - a cement box is a lot better than a mud hut with a thatched roof and dirt floor) it really sucks still living out of our suitcases.

So, since the furniture is out of our hands, what do we do all day? We wake up, shower, wait to be fed by our Mamans, possibly go outside and just saluate people in local language and explore the village or do a chore, like laundry, before it’s noon and so hot and sunny we scramble back indoors all afternoon - reading, doing crosswords, planning future projects we’d like to achieve either personally or for the community, then we wait til dusk when we can emerge again from our cave to saluate and eat some more, then we say our goodnights, shower once again (because you sweat wayyy to much during the day and night), then go to bed. Emerging from our lair will be a lot easier after our paillot (pronounced pie-oat = gazebo) is built - but once again they are constructing it on Beninese time.

One of my favorite luxuries that we’ve been enjoying thus far is “running water.” While we may not have indoor plumbing, I just sit an empty 90 liter water jug outside our door and a young boy runs to fill it up for us. And voila, just like magic my water is replenished. Second favorite luxury - the African pedicure. I had mentally prepared myself to have disgusting feet while I’m here - and I even packed my own self-pedicure tools as backup - but I have been delighted to find it is relatively easy to come across a lady on the side of a street with a stool and some nail polish who will clean your nails, cut your cuticles, and paint them all for about 20 cents. Granted you lack the water rub, massage chair, and callus scrub, but then again its only 20 cents and your toes still end up looking pretty! Yayyy.

Seeing as how we have been living life in the slow lane, we have had ample time to celebrate Ricky’s birth week. And it’s awesome because as quasi-millionaires, we can really afford to celebrate! We took a trip to Natitingou and splurged on every meal, bought anything and everything desired, and still haven’t put a dent in our bank account.

Also amazing is e saw our first fetisher festival 3 days ago. There is still a lot I don’t really know about fetishers, voodoo, and gris-gris, but I do know that gris-gris is bad and involves evil spirits and curses and is mainly in the south - but fetishers and voodoo are mainly just associated with the belief that everything has a spirit and spirits are good and should be worshipped. This subject is not my specialty and it’s hard to learn about but I’m working on it. All I know is between the that festival and seeing all the tribal Fulani women pass through our village everyday, I feel like a page out of National Geographic. The Fulani are nomadic herdsmen - the men wear hats that look like belong in rice paddies in China and carry big canes and the women have intricate henna/tattooing on their faces, one metal band around the upper arm, dozens of beaded bands around the forearm, and crazy beaded strips hanging from their temples. They are so stunning. Also amazing - the sun rise through the mountains, set over the river in the savannah, the full moon in a world with no light pollution, and spotting thousands of stars I’ve never seen before. Life is good.

Side note : I do love the yams here: boiled, fried, mashed, pounded, but I really miss having a varied diet.

And to date: Ricky has begun brewing Bissap wine and planted Moringa seeds in our garden.

23 October 2009

Amazing we have already been in Africa 3 months - including 1 month at our post. 4 weeks here and we now have a bed, 3 hanging boxes that serve as cabinets, and 2 chairs. We still have a long way to go on the furniture though. But - our paillot is built (even though we still don’t have chairs to sit under it) and we got a fence put up to form a garden free of roaming goats and sheep. Paillot (gazebo) total cost- $12. Fence - $10. Bed - $60. 2 chairs - $20. 3 cabinets - $10. All custom made with local wood (bamboo and abzeria plus tige for the gazebo). We have started our compost pile and Ricky built a mud stove for our tailor. I’m also going to the health center twice a week. I’ve told everyone I am not a doctor or a nurse or midwife but they don’t care - I am literate and they are fully willing to let me do as much work as I am comfortable with. So I’ve been filling out heath records and assisting in pre-natal consultations, doing simple things like taking the patients’ temperatures, weighing them, checking their eyes and measuring their belly growth The staff is dead set on me giving vaccinations too but that’s where I’ve drawn the line. I love being there and helping out but at the same time it is hilarious to me just how unqualified I would be to do the same work in the States. Oh, and after I went to work in a fully proper Beninese outfit (boomba with a foulard headdress) I got promoted from Gnon (meaning 1st daughter) to Ganikee (meaning Princess). My full name here is now Ganikee Baro - which means the Princess from Fo-Tanse. There is actually a King and Prince already though so Ricky’s name is still Orou (meaning 1st son). I’ve also hired help to do all our laundry by hand every week for the equivalent of about $1 and we killed our first scorpion in the house this week. Ricky has lost 30 pounds, I've only lost 15, so life is not really fair but it is still so awesome here.

So I’m not in the best mood right now because I witnessed a child in our house getting beaten for the first time this morning. Of course we’ve been told many times by PC trainers about gender roles and family dynamics here and how different things can be - but it’s just not the same as when you see it happening. So here’s the story…we were in our bedroom getting ready for class this morning when I looked out the window and saw Maman chasing Reine (the 14 year old daughter) around the house beating her and hitting her with the switch (that I previously thought was used only for our goat) and hearing Reine crying and scrambling to get away. I was in shock. So after a few minutes of personal emotional recovery time, I decided to confront the family on the issue. I asked Maman why she was beating Reine. She laughed it off and said it was not a big deal, Reine just wasn’t listening to her. I am well aware I am not going to be able to change their beliefs on how to properly raise children but I couldn’t stop myself from giving her a mouthful of how upset I was and how unacceptable her behavior was. Needless to say, she still laughed at me. I then went outside to console Reine and told her how pissed I was at her mom. I’m not sure how else I could’ve handled the situation but it still doesn’t seem like enough. I’m at a loss for ideas now and they’ve successfully upset for the rest of the day. I am so ready to move out of the host family’s house and to our post! I know things like this happen all the time in most families here but I would at least like to be in my own home where I don’t have to witness it with my own eyes.

And on that note - we are officially moving into our place on Sunday, which means as of then we won’t have access to the internet more than once a month so I’m sorry I can’t update more often than that. Nonetheless, please still write us and keep us updated on the goings-on at home!

And try to have a happy day even though I just shared a super sad story.

Much love,Leslie (and Ricky)

30 August 2009

* Only 3 weeks left in stage and I couldn’t be more excited about finishing and moving to post. Stage is like being in elementary school again except it’s 6 days a week instead of 5. On the bright side, I’m finding more and more foods I love here, ie - igname pilee (pounded yams - reminds me of mashes potatoes), pork and pirones (made from magnoc), cane rat with pimente (like buffalo wings) and avocado, onion, and mayonnaise baguettes. Yum. On the down side, food sanitation is also a big problem here and buying food from street vendors runs a high risk of getting you ill (possibly the cause of my first intestinal bacterial infection). Our host family tries to counter this by soaking all of our food in bleach - PC assures us this is the best method although it still seems poisonous to me - bleached salads are never appetizing. On a different note - we just found out the youngest boy in our house is not a son, but a domestique of sorts. The Beninese have an interesting definition of family that is really ambiguous and children are often shared communally - so kids might be called a son or daughter but may really be a distant niece or nephew. Domestiques usually are not related but are servants/cooks/maids of sorts and usually receive either money or schooling in exchange for their work. It’s still not very clear which category our boy, Islam, falls under but he did leave for “vacation” to visit his “dad”. We’ll see what happens.

* While I have decided being called yovo all the time does not bother me, men who address me in a high pitched voice does. Apparently some people here think speaking French is snobby (seriously? it’s the official language!) and associate it with Europeans who, they think, have high pitched voices…so they try to mimic that when talking to yovos. I’ve yet to see this but I’ve been told you can even see politicians doing it on tv. There is just something about a grown man speaking to me in a high pitched mousey voice that comes off as really condescending and it gets under my skin. Sometimes if you call them out on it and ask if they are a woman they will snap out of it but men are just more stubborn…

* Riding a bike to school in the sand both ways might as well be uphill both ways - but we have perfected the art. A once 35-40 minute ride now takes us 16 minutes flat.

13 September 2009

We just finished our visit to post and only have 1 ½ more weeks left in training! A few words about post visit:

* It almost seems easier not having electricity and running water than them being only halfway reliable. In Porto Novo, we have experienced the water being cut and power going out many times and its always inconvenient because we’re not as prepared to deal with it - ie: using the toilet sucks with no water or trying washing dishes in the dark. I think I just prefer having it all or nothing, which is good because for the next 2 years I will have nothing.

* We have a flock of pentards (guinea fowl) that stay around our concession. 19 to be exact. They look delicious and I can’t wait to eat one.

* Supposedly we were told there is cell phone coverage at our post, but we have yet to witness it. After 4 days we never saw service but we were assured sometimes the network just goes out indefinitely for no apparent reason. That’s cell phones in Africa for ya.

* PC has spent ridiculous amounts of time trying to prepare all the females for expected sexual harassment and how to cope/deal with it. Boy were they wrong. Ricky was a hit in our village carrying our water from the well (clearly women’s work) and a few women asked if he would take another wife. I can’t wait til they see him cook and help with laundry!

* In the north it is the rainy season now and when it rains, it pours! Seriously, I felt like I was in a monsoon. It only lasts for a couple hours a day but it is so intense the entire time - plus we have a tin roof on our house, which you may think sounds relaxing but it was so loud Ricky and I were yelling at each other and still couldn’t hear over the pounding rain.

* Food in the north is way better! They don’t use palm oil (or maybe they’re too poor to afford it) but either way some of the things I did not like in the south, like pate blanche, were delicious! I’m still not very graceful at eating with my hand though (when I say hand, I mean right hand because your left hand is “dirty” and there are obviously no eating utensils involved) but I’m sure that will come with time.

* French feels like my mother tongue compared to Bariba. It is such a relief finding someone who speaks French in village - I can actually express myself to them and not just utter stupid phrases like “I go to market for I buy cookie.”

* I’m still in disbelief that 2/3 of my “work” here is supposed to be learning the Beninese culture and sharing American culture - which essentially means make friends and talk to them. PC doesn’t expect you to put in as much time doing work in your field as the amount of time socializing.

* I can’t believe I missed the earthquake! The first time I leave the south of course there is an earthquake but I was too far north to feel it. Apparently it started off the coast in the ocean but everyone in the southern half of the country felt it. Just my luck.

On a different note - I learned about the Mami religion, the people who worship the Mami Wata God (mermaids). They think mermaids really exist and swear they have seen them! Laughing is not an appropriate reaction though because these people are totally for real.

July 25, 2009

It’s day 2 in Benin and first impressions couldn’t be better. I was preparing for the most rugged experience possible and have been pleased to find running water, electricity, a comfy bed, and good food. It’s the rainy season here but we have yet to see rain - just cool weather (low 80s) and a nice breeze. After getting off the plane yesterday, Peace Corps gave us a very warm welcome which instantly lifted my spirits after the 24+ hours of traveling. I got 2 more shots today (3 total so far) but we’ve been told there will be plenty more to come. The one year volunteers have been sharing a lot with us constantly reminding me there is so much to learn - like how there are no gas stations in a city filled with millions of motorcycles - there is only illegal gas smuggled from Nigeria sold on the side of the road in glass jars. All the PC employees seem really amazing and I’m excited to get through training so my life at post can begin.

July 26, 2009

Couldn’t hear anything in class today because the sound of drums, singing, and dancing was too loud outside the classroom (Sunday celebration). We also went for a walk around our training site - we stopped at a restaurant to get a drink and the people there all wanted to talk a picture with us, it was flattering and awkward at the same time. These people knew nothing about us but we were cool just because we’re white. To date all we’ve been eating is an unidentified meat (probably goat), rice or couscous, some sort of white fish (either smoked or fried) and unknown veggies or green oranges. Can’t complain though, it’s all way better than anticipated.

30 July 2009

There doesn’t seem to be enough time in the day to write down all the new things we’re experiencing in detail, so I’ve been trying to keep a piece of paper with me to jot things down as I notice them. In the past few days, this is what I’ve come up with:

* there are no trash cans in Cotonou. This is because there is no trash man or truck or dumpster or landfill. The trash is all thrown on the ground and forgotten about, left to the goats and chicken roaming about.

* the aforementioned issue combined with the horrific air pollution from zemidjans (moto taxis - pronounced zemi-johns) makes air quality a bad problem. Add in all the sand/dirt blowing in the wind and your lungs hurt after about a 10 minute walk.

* 90% humidity and 90degree weather and people are still walking around in winter jackets. I’m not sure yet if this is because it’s a sign your can afford one or if it’s because this is the cool season here and people are actually cold.

* After our stay in Cotonou, we headed to Porto Novo to begin stage (pronounced with a French accent, just Peace Corps way of saying training). As we drove down the road, I noticed hammocks hanging from underneath truck beds of 18-wheelers. I was told this is because when the drivers want to stop for a break, they lay under the trucks because it’s the only shade available.

* Even on the “highway” there are no rules of the road. No lanes, no traffic signs, no driver’s licenses, and since the roads are a sand/dirt mixture with pot holes and bumps like crazy, it makes for an interesting driving experience. Since there are no lanes, there is also no real distinction between what’s the road and what’s not. There are also sidewalks, crosswalks, and fruit stands all over the highway. If you have exact change ready you can buy anything from your car while waiting in traffic.

* Many of the fruits and veggies here are the same but different. For example - oranges are green, the coconuts are not hairy, watermelons are a solid green, etc. Although it looks different, most of it tastes the same or better.

* We finally saw the beach between Cotonou and Porto Novo. There were lots of houses in the beach area that would be considered millionaire houses even in the US. That was very unexpected. Unfortunately, the currents are too strong on the coast here though so you can’t actually go swimming.

* Having your period in Africa sucks. The options are: use tampons which you can’t flush down the toilet (plumbing here cannot handle even toilet paper) so you have to keep all your trash hidden in a bag which has to be burned later so kids don’t play in your unhygienic waste - seriously…or you could use a diva cup which is also difficult because you have to filter and boil any water you use because the water here is too dirty….or you could go local and stuff your pants with a wad of fabric. Either way, it sucks.

* I’ve started Bariba lessons with Ricky since we found out hardly anyone speaks French in our village. Our post sounds awesome though and I think we’ll both be able to do exactly what we want. There will be no running water or electricity and without having French to fall back on, it should be interesting!

A kpuna ndo = bariba for good morning.

1 August 2009

* Peace Corps 3 keys to being a successful and happy volunteer: patience, flexibility, and laughter.

* The yovo song is a curious thing. Before departure and once arriving in Benin, we were forewarned about passerby’s, especially kids, constantly yelling “yovo” at us (yovo= foreigner or white person in the local fon language). It is not an exaggeration, it happens all the time. However, I don’t see it as negative or insulting as some other people do. Instead, it feels more like we are celebrities who don’t deserve the attention but are recognized everywhere we go. I have noticed that when a child starts singing the song (yes there is a song - it goes…yovo yovo bonsoir ca va bien merci, and is repeated over and over again) that if you just stop and say bonsoir (people never say bonjour here unless its before 10am) they blush and giggled and seem to be amazed that you would pay them any attention, let alone understand French. I love that it is so easy for me to brighten someone’s day.

*dead yovo market = ever wonder what happens to all the clothes that didn’t sell at the salvation army in the states? It gets shipped to Africa and sold here in the dead white person market.

* The stereotypical image I had before leaving about goats and chickens roaming everywhere has thus far proven true. However, there seems to be more rationale behind it than I had anticipated. As I mentioned before, there is no trash collection here. So there are three ways to deal with the situation: 1) throw everything out in the road and forget about it 2) burn it (not so great with plastics) or 3) feed it to the goats. In some cases, like with my host family, we have a “pet” goat who eats our trash pile. There are wild goats roaming about that help take care of what other people throw out. And where you have decomposing trash and goat manure, there are bugs. And where there are bugs, there are chickens. But this is not a perfect systems, mainly due to the plastics. Bottles, bags, and packaging make up the majority of the litter on the streets, and I cringe every time I see someone trying to burn it.

* On a similar note, being a yovo and different from everyone else, everything we do becomes interesting. For this reason, a yovo’s trash isn’t trash at all, it’s treasure. Kids will pick through it and take anything they can and do who knows what with it, it’s just special because it came from a yovo. So even when there is running water or a toilet, the plumbing is so bad you have to keep a bag of your toilet paper and either burn it or throw it in a latrine (glorified permanent portapotty) so kids won’t get into it.

7 August 2009

1) cows on leashes - they’re everywhere and it still makes me laugh passing them on my bike everyday.

2) We visited our first Beninese health structure yesterday as part of training. The only image I had in my head of what to expect was similar to what I had read about in Mali before coming - surprisingly my expectations were exceeded. There was electricity, running water, no holes in the roof, and the woman in charge seemed educated and very presentable (side note- people here take great pride in their appearances and being clean - laundry day took 3 hours and involved 3 wash bins and one rinse - even little kids think dirt on the bottom hem of your jeans is unacceptable).

3) today we went au village to do some community surveying. The whole experience was very surreal - the chief welcomed us and praised our work, the women were singing and dancing with us, the scenery was gorgeous and seemed almost tropical, and the women and babies in their pagnes (pronounced pon-ya, just a printed piece of cotton fabric used for everything) are so beautiful! I hope all my experiences in my own village will be just as positive.

4) Mefloquine - PC’s key to malaria prevention - has its downsides. Ricky has been having vivid dreams about Chinese Gestapo coming for him (we think, this is sparked by all the Chinese crap sold on the streets but we don’t know how it gets here) and I start every day with stomach cramps and digestion problems. Small price to pay for staying malaria free, I guess.

5) We taught our host family how to play uno and we now catch them playing without us- this could be either because they really like the game or they don’t really like us….

6) finally getting jam to go with our baguette for breakfast changed my life today! Our host family feeds us breakfast and dinner every day - the dinner is usually okay but I was getting so sick of having plain bread as a meal I had to say something to them. I’ve never enjoyed jam so much before. On a similar note, this is the first time in my life I feel as though I could be a vegetarian - and it’s not because I don’t like the meat (or lack thereof) but because I feel so deprived of vegetables, plus the only fruits I’ve been getting are pineapple juice with dinner (my new favorite drink) or a green orange for dessert. At this point, our diet mainly consists of a starch, palm oil, bouillon, onion, tomato, pimente (hot peppers), and either smoked fish or “chicken” - they eat layer hens here so theres really no meat on it. We do splurge on fanmilk at lunch though - fanmilk is the Beninese version of ice cream made from powdered milk and costs a whopping 20 cents.

16 August 2009

We’ve just passed our 3 week mark here are already we’re starting to feel comfortable in the Beninese culture. Not that we’ve got everything figured out, just that things now feel commonplace to us that were surprising at first, ie, sleeping under a mosquito net, filtering and boiling all water - even to brush your teeth, seeing how much women can carry on their heads and how they hold their babies in pagnes on their backs, etc. I do miss my terrible american food though. We had tacos, if you could call them that, this week with cheddar cheese! Cheese is an expensive, rare item here so it was a splurge. I’ve never been much of a cheese person before but I don’t get much calcium in my diet here so it really made my day. Speaking of food, I had to re-learn my food pyramid here. Apparently dietary needs are not universal because there are only 3 food groups here (carbs, proteins, and fruits/veggies). As long as you eat one of each group each day, supposedly you’ll be in good shape (seriously?). This week we also started working on a garden plot at school - I felt as though ricky and I had a serious one up on most other people since we actually had experience doing this but c’est dommage I forgot my gardening gloves! Posts were also announced this week to everyone else but it was pretty anticlimactic for us since we already knew ours. Today we took a trip to practice weighing babies in another village after class and just like the last time we went au village, everyone was so welcoming it was a great experience. Other than that, we’ve settled into a pretty predictable daily routine which goes as follows…

*wake up, escape mosquito net, eat a baguette with fake instant coffee, get changed, apply copious amounts of bug spray, brush teeth with filtered, boiled water, get lunch money from dad, bike to “school”, stay in class for 8 hours, hang out at the buvette (bar/restaurant) with Colleen, Alec, Eddie, and Meredith, bike home at 7, eat dinner, feed scraps to goat, wash dishes, take a cold shower, do bariba homework, boil/filter water, say our goodnights around 9 while the family is still watching French-dubbed Italian soap operas, get under mosquito net and sweat for a couple hours trying to fall asleep.

21 August 2009

I went to go stay with Satin for what PC calls a “tech visit” which is basically just the opportunity to stay with a current volunteer and get a better idea of what life will be like at post once training is over. My tech visit made me so excited to be done with stage and I hope my village will be as awesome as Satin’s. I handled the bucket shower and latrines better than I anticipated (but not at night) and I’ve come to terms with the lizards the size of my foot and all the spiders. Outside the city, the weather has been a lot cooler - it was the first night I didn’t sweat and was chilly enough to cover up with a sheet. We also saw our first thunderstorm here, her village is so tropical it feels like a rainforest. Her village only has about 700 people - ours will have about 1,000 - and I’m really glad that we’ll be out in the bush (en brousse) and not in the city. It is so far removed no one here even knows the yovo song and it’s really easy to impress the villagers - like saying hello in the local language, dressing in tissue (either casual pagnes or dressy models), carrying a baby on my back with a pagne, dancing, and drinking sodabe (an African moonshine, if you will). Some of the villagers threw a house party, or should I say mud hut party, for us. I had an amazing time and fell in love with an 11 year old girl named Claire. She only speaks Fon so we couldn’t really communicate but she danced with me the whole night. Some people there said I dance like the Aja people and I’ve been told this is a compliment, but I should probably find out what that really means. A lot of people here do nothing all day, really, so most of the kids watched us like television for entertainment. They just sit outside the screen door peering in waiting for us to do something interesting. It doesn’t sound like much fun to me, but I guess since we’re different that makes everything we do interesting to them, even if we’re doing nothing. Every time we take a walk, the crowd following us just continues to multiply because no one wants to miss out on anything we might see or do. Picture-taking is also quite the spectacle - I’ll try to take one person’s picture but as soon as I turn on the camera 20 more people rush to get in the picture. Satin also had us do some work while we’re here so we did 2 sensibilizations (French word that doesn’t really translate but its basically an education lesson) to teach the villagers about the food groups and how to eat a well balanced diet. It seems really lame and obvious to us but it was like groundbreaking news and they were really excited to learn about it. It’s very interesting because since the group has never had any education before, they were very excited to have us teach them something, no matter what it was it was a lesson and that is exciting in and of itself. Satin also helped me purchase some of the beads women wear around their waste here - it’s kind of like underwear in this culture and it’s something only your husband is ever supposed to see. Different villages have different stories behind the beads though - some say if you wear them it helps your butt grow, or it’s a chastity belt of sorts, or it’s just like lingerie. You’ll see babies with them on but once a girl reaches puberty they have to stay hidden under your clothes. You learn something new everyday!