Africa is Dangerous; a.k.a. my Mosquito Net is Trying to Kill Me

In light of my recent entries, I decided to start with something lighter, and luckily I, in my brilliance, provided a perfect story Saturday morning to share with you.

Firstly, I must explain that the bed-frame in my room actually is a double (which my family has provided); however the Peace Corps provides the mattress, which is only a twin. This sucks for me, since I don’t really fit on a twin (yay tallness), but that’s a story for another day. But the point is that the bed-frame extends out from either side of my mattress. Also, as I mentioned before, I am required to sleep under a mosquito every night, so I don’t die from malaria. This net has to be tucked under my mattress, so that little mosquitoes don’t think of trying to come in underneath.

So that is the set-up in which I sleep every night. And Friday night, my cell phone had run out of battery, so I had to charge it. The outlet is kind of far from my bed, so my cell phone was sitting about 3 feet from my bed. So my alarm goes off at 6:30 (yes, we even have to get up early on Saturdays; it’s terrible). I had been sleeping on the edge of my mattress, and it startles me so much that I roll off the mattress, onto the bed-frame. Of course this means that I roll on to the mosquito net as well. Then in my just-awakened-disorientation, I am trying to get out from the net to get to my cell phone, but as I am lying on top of the net, this is pretty impossible. So I struggled with that for a good 30 seconds, while my cell phone is singing its stupid alarm song. Then I finally get myself back up on the mattress, pull the mosquito net from under it, then dip through the opening, almost fall face first on to the floor as a step off the bed, then I finally reached my cell phone to turn the darn thing off. At least I was wide-awake by that point. Well, there you have it: the story of the time my mosquito net almost killed me. I plan on talking to the Peace Corps about the dangers that accompany mosquito nets, so they can weigh this against the benefits of nets, like the whole malaria prevention thing. At least a mosquito has never tried to strangle me J

Ok, now I’ll go back to things that happened earlier in the week (but perhaps just aren’t quite as humorous). At the end of each day, our teacher is supposed to take us “into the community” to have some sort of informative/learning experience. So Wednesday evening, we followed him on our bikes to this area right on the shores of the lake that is between Cotonou and Porto Novo. There was a whole community of people, who are involved with either fishing or sand-gathering. The sand is put into piles and then collected by people who will use it to make cement, or whatever you make with sand, to build houses. Apparently there is actually a whole community that lives in the water (my teacher described it as being kind of like Venice), on stilt houses. There are many pirogues (a type of boat) just sitting along the shore, that I guess people use at various times. We also could see that there was water-hyacinths that have taken over the water here, and our teacher pointed out that this has made it harder for people to navigate the water. We kept getting offers to take us there, but Peace Corps Benin strictly forbids any interaction with water for Trainees, and I think almost all interaction with water for volunteers. This is due to the dirtiness of the water, the roughness of the beaches in Benin, and some past tragic incidents involving water. So we just watched the people there work. Some were bringing sand that had been collected in the pirogues, to the various piles along the shore. And some people were working with fish, separating them in baskets, etc. Some people were leaving in the pirogues, I guess to go out for more fish, or to go back to their water-village.

My teacher said that these were the “autochthons” of this area. Interestingly enough, I just studied the idea of “autochthony” in one of my classes last semester. Basically it is the idea of being tied to the soil; being the absolute original inhabitants of a region. Autochthony can have a lot of political implications and discussions, but here the autochthons have simply moved to the edges of the lake to continue their tradition of fishing and a way of life that revolves around water. This has occurred as large populations of people have moved into the cities of Cotonou and Porto Novo

An incident erupted while we were standing there just observing. A young woman started yelling at an older woman, who was coming in on one of the pirogues. The younger woman climbed onto the pirogue, shouting at her. I didn’t see everything, but what I did see was the older woman grab the younger one’s hair, the slam her face first towards the pirogue. Other women got involved, some even jumped in the water, so they could reach this fighting pair and separate them. The younger woman seemed to want to continue the fight, then a man stood between the two and yelled something at the younger woman for a while, then other people got involved as well. I thought this whole incident was bizarre, and actually kind of hilarious. Our teacher told us we wouldn’t see this in the US, because people would just go to court. Although my fellow student and I joked, saying that this wasn’t entirely true; we had both seen similar fights break out in the United States. Also, have you ever watched a “reality” show? Stuff like that goes down all the time. But our teacher said that this is just how fights are solved in Benin, because no one really goes through legal procedures. He also mentioned, at another time, that people don’t tend to put much stock in the “law”. Typically, when they have a problem, they will immediately begin thinking of the people they know in some sort of government functionary position that can help them. This is true, whether or not the law would be on their side were they to pursue legal options. Obviously, what we saw was very extreme. This doesn’t happen all the time here, but just exemplifies the more informal way of dealing with arguments. Another interesting thing to go along with it though was the way that people got involved. In the US, people might gather in a circle around a fight, but random observers don’t get involved. However, according to a culture-comparison-sheet we received, observers in Benin might feel like they must get involved, to help sort out the argument, etc (like the man here who got up to put in his two cents and more). In the same vein, this sheet also says that people, especially elders, might feel obligated to give you advice, even when you’re not asking for it. To Americans, this is bizarre, because we are constantly told to “keep your nose out of other people’s business.” I haven’t experienced this yet, but hopefully if I do, I can accept it as just part of the culture, that people just want to help, offer their wisdom and advice, etc.

Other than that my days have been pretty regular. I just have a lot of language class, with occasionally cultural classes or group activities. The Peace Corps keeps you pretty busy during this period, so you don’t have much time (or energy) to do much else. At the end of the day Friday, some of us did get together and went to a bar and just chatted for a while about our training experiences so far.

Also today I observed my family’s version of “spanking”. There are two young boys here, one is a younger cousin of mine, and one I think is just his friend, and not actually related. Anyway, apparently, while all the adults were out, they ate all of the sugar cubes that are meant for my coffee. My older (male) cousin, Sasha, and my sister Bijoux were mad at the boys and called them into the family room. They lectured them for a while, then Sasha made them hold out their hands while he smacked them with a thick flip-flop. The younger, non-cousin, looked absolutely terrified, and positively fled when Sasha told him that it was done and to leave. (Also, I feel like that would not at all be allowed in the US, to corporally punish someone who was not actually your child/relative) Personally, I was torn between thinking, “It’s just your hands!” (though of course, I have never had my hands smacked with a flip-flop) and feeling really terrible that the sugar for my coffee had caused all of this drama. Honestly, while the boys definitely knew they weren’t supposed to eat that sugar, I really can’t blame them. Sugar cubes are one of my favorite things about not being in America. It’s sugar! In a cube! How *sweet* is that???

Otherwise, I spent most of the day practicing French, with a few breaks. Mostly I’ve been trying to build my vocabulary. During the week, my teacher reviews grammar, and we have exercises to accompany that. But on my own I just want to expand on everything that I want to be able to say. My vocab comes from class, from things I want to say in everyday life, and from the Beninese novel that I am reading.

My sister, Bijoux, saw me reviewing vocab, and was like, “Oh, are you bored?” Yes, I am kind of bored. (On the other hand, it is important that I practice my French.) She invited me to “se promener” with her friends, which literally means to “take a walk”. However, in Beninese reality, this meant to get on her friend’s moto, go to a baptism or confirmation party, chill there for a while, then go to a bar. Regardless, it was fun.

And here I am going to insert my belief that the Peace Corps manual and training is filled with lies. No, I take that back. Hypothetically, everything I am being told and taught is true for the majority of (rural) Benin. However, my actual experience of living in Porto-Novo teachers me something completely different. Which is why I understand Peace Corps Benin’s effort to move training outside of the capital city, into a more rural area.

But tonight I went to a bar with my host sister. There were people dancing that were showing way too much PDA. Even my American self was thinking, “Get a room!” I think, however, that these specific people were married. So is it more acceptable then? In Benin, we are told that people of the opposite sex don’t hold hands, because then people might think you are doing something illicit. But if you are married, then isn’t it obvious that you are doing some freaky things, so its okay that you hold hands in public? Or is it just these scandalous Porto Novo-ians? I guess it really doesn’t matter, because its not like I’m married anyway, so regardless, that rule wouldn’t apply to me. I’m just curious.

On the other hand, one of the hardest things for me to reconcile, is the blatant male-on-male holding of the hands. Beninese people don’t really consider homosexuality a “preference.” If anything, they think it is something invented by white people, or so I’ve heard. So if someone is caught doing gay or lesbian things, while this is highly offensive for the community, but it isn’t viewed as a way of life, but merely a momentary action of that person. Therefore, homophobia doesn’t really exist, because for the Beninese homosexuality doesn’t “exist.” Thus, it is really common for men, who are friends/business partners, to hold hands while talking to each other, or walking, etc. For me, this is really bizarre, because as an American, I take male-on-male hand-holding as an indication that they are gay. But here, that is [for the most part] untrue. [I am sure that there are actual Beninese gays who are able to hide under the guise of being “just friends” and go along merrily holding each others’ hands.] I’m not sure why I find this the mostly complexing cultural thing to deal with so far. Maybe its because its such a subconscious thing. In America, hand-holding is always a relationship thing. Unless its between a string of girls who are just trying to make their way through a party. Or I guess in general its just more acceptable for girls to hold hands as “just friends.” If straight guys were ever to do that, they would do so in an exaggerated manner, so everyone knows it is a joke. Anyway, that’s just something I’ve been thinking about.

So anyways, back to the bar with my sister. It was really loud, so I couldn’t hear anything. Even in America it is really hard for me to hear when someone is talking in a crowded area, in English. But with the Beninese-accented French? I understand NOTHING. I keep trying to explain that to the guys with us. It’s not exactly that I don’t understand, its just that I can’t hear what your saying. Or the sounds that I do hear don’t string together to make sense in my ear. I’m sorry. PLEASE STOP TALKING TO ME. But they keep on talking to me. So I just smile and say, “Oui!” and hope that they are simply telling me something. And not actually needing a coherent response. Then sometimes they are expecting a response, and “Oui!” doesn’t make sense, and everyone is looking at me like I’m retarded. Oh well. The guys ended up getting me some wine, while they drank their beers. We chilled for a while, then my host sister went up to dance with the guy she was hanging out with. (Boyfriend? I’m not sure. My cultural guide says that in Benin men and women aren’t “just friends” but I also trust nothing that this guide tells me). His older brother, who was the other guy hanging out with us, drug me to the dance floor as well. See! Here I went and danced. 1) Because it was dark-ish. 2) Because the only person I knew there was already dancing, so everyone watching was just strangers. And I don’t care what they think. Those are my rules. When they are followed, I feel fine! Yay me. Yay dancing and having a good time.

That is all.

Politics and Religion

Sorry for the long rant that began my previous entry. I just felt like that it was something that needed to be said. Besides, my blog would be boring if it were simply a list of everything that I’d done. Now you have some commentary too.

But just to go off the theme of the previous entry: I really do hope that you find it incredible that I am here at all. Not just because it’s Africa. Living in primitive conditions is nothing, for me at least. But I remember talking to one of my professors (Dr. Bodek) a few years ago, saying that the idea of Peace Corps, of having to figure out projects to do all on your own (not just simply being given instructions for a task), absolutely terrified me. He told me that I was underestimating myself. So here I am. But when I read something like during our two-week stay at our future posts we are expected to go out, and actually talk to people, such as local leaders, administrators, vendors, and so on, I am scared shitless. I briefly contemplate packing up my bags, going home, and finding a job where I never have to talk to anyone, if such a job existed. But here I remain, and hopefully doing all this will make me a better and stronger person and my perseverance will enable me to help those I meet here and share our cultures and in friendship.

Maybe its my fault for trying to do extroverted-like things; for not giving into my shyness totally. I tend to gravitate towards people who ARE extroverts, like the people I choose to be my close friends in France and Charleston. Their outgoingness affords me many opportunities: they help me meet new people and have experiences I would have never had on my own. Often I am jealous of the ease of which they talk to new people. I wish I had that ability, to meet new people and make friends easily. But I don’t. Most of the time I have to work hard to meet people, unless of course, they are the ones that come up to me. Which is why I highly value my extroverted friends who make the situation easier.

And on the other hand, I know that I must also me sympathetic to situations which extroverts might find trying. For example, it takes me a lot to get bored. I can read or even envision a new story I make up in my head for hours on end. But an extrovert craves and needs human interaction; so I should not be hasty to dismiss the frustrations of volunteers who may be bored and find it hard to entertain themselves during the time they are adjusting to village life.

So that’s all I want to say on that. Now moving on to other things…

Just as a forewarning, this some of this entry (not the very beginning though) has turned into a deep, loaded one. Be prepared. And I hope I still have readers when this is over. I know that it is said to never discuss religion and politics with friends, but I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything. I am just presenting ideas that I have found here in Benin.

Sunday, 8 July 2012

I didn’t end up going to a nightclub Saturday night. I actually ended up just going to bed because I was really tired. This is so hard, having to get up for class at 8 every morning. I know, every adult reading this is playing their little finger-violin of sympathy. But, fo realz, I just spent a semester with my earliest class at 4:30 in the afternoon. It’s hard adjusting. I asked my prof if we could just have shorter “pose”-s (breaks), but then not begin until 9 O’clock. He was like, “No, the Peace Corps says that’s forbidden!” I jokingly tried to explain to him that what the Peace Corps doesn’t know won’t hurt them, but he wouldn’t buy it. He explained that the main point of the time was to get us accustomed to the typical Beninese workday, which begins at 8 in the morning, and ends at 6:30PM, but has a 2.5 hour break in the middle. I guess that makes sense. Plus it sounds a little better, because you can actually accomplish something, like lunch and a nap with 2.5 hours, rather than these stupid 30-minute breaks. I still hate waking up so early though. Oh well. I guess I’ll get used to it.

So anywhoo, Sunday morning I slept in late even though I also went to bed early. When I got up my Maman said that we were going to her family house. I asked at what hour, then she told me that everyone was just waiting on me. I felt really bad, but then “waiting on you” turned out to mean that she hadn’t even started getting ready, so then I didn’t feel bad at all.

Anyway, there was a grand celebration, I think for the confirmation of one of my younger cousins (who I had never met before. Or maybe I met him once. I’m not sure). He was really cute, dressed in an all-white suit with a red tie. I also I met a lot of uncles, aunts, and cousins. And I am no more certain of who everyone is than I was before. Oh well. But when I first sound down, I was offered delicious food. Then they asked if I wanted some beer. I told them I didn’t really like beer. Then one of my uncles was like, “Do you like whiskey?” All I could say was “Well… yeah!” So I was provided with a substantial amount of whiskey. One uncle joked that with that much I will just fall asleep, but I said that I would “faire la fête”, which means literally to “do the party”, or perhaps one would say, “party it up!” I still have a pretty high tolerance. Although its def been decreasing over these few weeks of not drinking regularly. Which is good, but can also be dangerous if I try to drink as much as I did before. I, however, have no intention of embarrassing myself.

There was one point when we exited the house, and walked down the block a little to what was I guess a continuation of the party, just under a tent. This tent, I noticed, actually came from America (it was originally made for a radio station), and I had a conversation that went as follows:

Me: “This (tent) comes from America!”

Cousin: “What?”

Me: “It says, ‘Home of the Braves’! The Braves are from Atlanta!”

Cousin: “What?”

Me: “The Braves! They are a team from Atlanta!”

Cousin: “What sport?”

Me: “Baseball!!!!”

Cousin: “Oh, no one knows baseball here.”

*awkward silence*

 So anyway, a whole group of women, including my host mom, I think a bunch of her sisters, and other just sat down. And then in the center of the table was placed many bottles of whiskey, beer, sparkling wine, energy drinks, and so on. Everyone was just drinking, laughing, and having a good time. I didn’t really understand everything that was going on, but it was really great. One women asked me if I know “energy drinks” and I tried to explain that the popular drink in the US is called “Red Bull,” but I forgot the word for “Bull” in French, so I called it “Le vache masculine rouge” aka “The Red Male Cow” which doesn’t exactly have the same ring. Oops.

Now, this next part will explore political things. I don’t want anyone to get upset. This is just an exploration into different viewpoints that exist. I don’t necessarily agree with them. Those of you who know me might know that I love Obama with all my heart, mind, and soul. Yes, there are things that I disagree with him on, but I still love him. Yet I am still willing to listen to others who may disagree with him, so that I may discover why they disagree with him. I think if you can understand and appreciate (while perhaps not necessarily accepting) different worldviews, it makes you more well-rounded. And better able to function in this world, and work with the people in it. So all I ask of you is just to read, accept that these points are valid, and then go back to believing what you want (or perhaps even a little changed), but with a greater appreciation for the rest of the world’s feelings.

Just as the US is not wholly united in its politics, neither is Africa, nor even Benin. For example, my Beninese French teacher expressed his view recently that were it not for America and Europe, the world would be completely overrun by Islamic extremists. He also said that he thinks that Muslims are the most intolerant people in the world. (Although I mentioned that perhaps he had not met some of the extreme Christians in the US. For certain, there are intolerants from every religion, but also there are very loving people as well.)

Today I talked with some of my older uncles, who expressed a completely different idea. They are Christian(esque? Or at least, they are not Muslims, and I think they are Christian in history, but not practice.) They were talking about how all of Africa initially loved Obama, him being a son of an African and all. But he has done things that some Africans substantially disagree with.

The main topic of discussion was the recent(ish) overthrow of Kaddafi in Libya. My one uncle thinks that this was a terrible thing, and that Obama and NATO were wrong for supporting the fight against him. For certain, it has had terrible repercussions. For example, there have been many Libyan Muslims that have fled to African countries, such as Mali and Niger, and have caused a lot of disruption there. In part it has been the continuation of Islamic extremism, and also it has been in part the creation of new Islamic extremism. While we Americans can be content with the overthrow of a dictator that we never actually liked (as opposed to the multitude of dictators we have supported over the years), this has still had dangerous consequences for the whole of Africa. The disruption of Libya actually led to the recent coup d’état which took place in Mali.

Furthermore, Kaddafi, despite all his quirks, and perhaps genuine crazy, has long projected the idea of a united Africa. This is something that my uncle supports. As it stands now, Africa has been raped by colonialism, and is continually raped, country by country, by neocolonialism, the World Bank, the IMF, the World Trade Organization, a multitude of Multi-National Corporations, and so on. In this vein, it is easy to understand why (my uncle) would look up to someone who asserted that Africa must unite and take control of its own destiny. He talked about many scholars and leaders who have asserted the same ideas, and have continually been assassinated. While his theories are vaguely conspiracy-oriented, they still express the same frustration that Africa has never been truly allowed to assert its own destiny, even in the aftermath of independence. I want to defend Obama, and I do. I think Obama has done a good job of addressing problems quickly, and succinctly. But is this the best solution? Is it just? The night that Osama Bin Laden was killed, and everyone was celebrating, I posted the quote, “Many that live deserve death. But some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment.” I think Bin Laden perhaps received a just end, but it wasn’t “justice”; it was still an execution. But then again, I also don’t think there was a realistic alternative. Ultimately, however, I do not think it is right to celebrate the death of any individual, no matter what crimes they may have committed against you or your people.

So what is the message of those who contradict the actions of the US? It is simply this: “Let us make our own, fair destiny”. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? Can we stop meddling? Stop forcing our vision upon everyone? Can we stop protecting only our commercial interests everywhere under the guise of “freedom”? Can we go where our help is wanted? (sidenote: Peace Corps only works in countries in which they have been invited). Can we allow Muslims to freely worship, freely elect their own governments? How can you insist on the US government following “Judeo-Christian Law,” (i.e. when it comes to gay marriage) but then outright reject any middle-eastern government that accepts Sharia Law? (And don’t even try to pretend like that is different at all. Read the Bible. All. Of. It. Read the Koran. Then talk to me). I think government and religion should be separate, but of course people will vote with their own religious consciousness in mind. That is no problem at all, as long as it does not restrict the freedom of another.

My uncle was not rejecting American intervention as a whole, just expressing his belief that it was done in the wrong way. I, personally, am glad the Kaddafi is gone. I don’t think he was a good person. And I think Obama executed a solid strategy for addressing the fight in Libya. On the other hand I don’t think Americans or Europeans actually address well the problems of Africa. It’s a really, really complicated thing. What is the solution? I don’t know. My uncle here believes that Africans must unite, so they can be a strong player in world politics, and actually have a legitimate seat at the table, have a say in international decision affecting them. Is that realistic? Probably not. There is not magic answer to this. But my hope is that this experience can teach me what Beninese people want, what other Africans that I meet want, and I can share this with you. We all want to succeed. We all want our countries, our people, to be able to succeed. Beninese people don’t want their success to be hindered by European and American policies. Again, is that too much to ask?

Anyway, that was all ‘food for thought.’ I don’t necessarily expect you to agree. I just want you to see a different viewpoint.

Monday, 9 July 2012

So after that topic, I shall move on to another loaded one, which is religion. I hope that you can read and learn, and perhaps shake some prior misconceptions as well.

Benin, as I have discovered, is the birthplace of what we call “voodoo,” but which I’ll call “vodoun” so you can separate it from “voodoo.” I know the word “voodoo” brings to mind a lot of images, mostly dealing with black magic and dolls that can bring immense amount of pain to target individuals. This is not exactly correct. Personally, I am just beginning to learn about vodoun, so what I will share comes only from very limited sources (One being my travel guide for Benin and the other being a presentation that us Peace Corps volunteers had today by a female vodoun priest). I am sure that I will learn more and more about vodoun as my time passes in Benin.

These sources have claimed that anywhere from 50%-65% of the Beninese population is vodoun. The other most popular religions are Christianity (mostly in the South) and Islam (mostly in the North). However, regardless of the presence of these other religions, it is said that all Beninese are vodoun at heart. Christian or Islamic ceremonies will incorporate aspects of vodoun. I found this in Senegal as well, which is upwards of 90% Muslim. There, Islam often had many animist elements. This can be somewhat equated to the use of pagan symbols in Western Christianity. For example: bunnies at Easter. Or the fact that Christmas was originally the day of celebrating a Roman god. When a religion spreads, it adapts various parts of local culture, including previously unrelated religions.

The vodoun priest today explained that vodoun emerged as a religion to help people overcome difficulties they faced in their everyday lives. It is overall a peaceful religion and has laws that are meant to protect and respect Nature as well as humans, and especially decrees that one must respect the disabled. Vodoun came to the Americas, obviously, through the slave trade. (Benin, in fact, had the name the “Slave Coast” since a huge, huge amount of slaves came from here.) The most common representations of “voodoo” in the New World come from Haiti, and sometimes New Orleans, etc. The priest today asserted that Haitian voodoo, having been brought by people who were stripped of everything but what they could carry in their brains, and was subsequently sundered from Benin for centuries, is not what she considers “pure” vodoun. She also pointed out that voodoo in Haiti faced constant oppression and persecution, so this is why it seems that voodoo there has developed a very defensive and almost mean aspect (such as the voodoo dolls, even though these are a small part of the full religion).

So to clear up any misconceptions, vodoun here in Benin has nothing to do with “black magic”. It is mostly the idea of spirituality. Vodoun deals with spirits and those things that are invisible to the eye. There is the idea that there are spirits within all of nature (especially sacred forests) and that the spirits of our ancestors live amongst us. The five important elements are trees, earth, fire, water, and thunder (although “thunder” has been mentioned by one of my sources and not the other. Although I’m sure specific vodoun practices vary all over Benin). There are major and minor deities associated with all of these elements. Two symbols that I thought were interesting were the rainbow, which represents fortune and beauty; then the snake is also venerated, representing wisdom. Those who are priests in vodoun must work to be pure and righteous. They are expected to do good to others and respect nature and spirits. There are even rules restricting sexual activities before certain events/ceremonies, so that priests can be “pure” upon engaging in these ceremonies.

A huge important aspect is also the immense amount of respect given to ancestors. From what I have heard so far, it seems that vodoun does not really consider there to be much in the way of an extra-terrestrial afterlife. The dead continue to live amongst us, and must continually be shown respect. They are in the house, or nearby, watching over us. There is no concept of an ultimate “Judgment Day”; according to vodoun, judgment happens to us here on earth. We reap what we sow. Misfortune will come to those who have done evil. And living a vodoun life will better enable you to deal with the difficulties that come along.

In this way, death does not have such a negative connotation. For those who have lived a long life, their death is actually celebrated by a long day of partying. They have had a fulfilling time alive and will continue to be around, per se, so what is there to mourn?

It is even common if you are offered drink or food to put a little on the floor and say “For the ancestors”. I haven’t actually seen this done, in real life, however, I was watching TV the other day, and there was a commercial for a certain beer. This commercial was about a woman, who was having a funeral party for her lately deceased husband. So there was a picture of this husband just across from her, then a beer was set down between them. The beer starts disappearing from the glass, and she looks at the photo, which is now smiling. And everyone is like, “Yay, you’re husband is fine, he’s even drinking really good beer right now!” or something like that. Then at the very end, one of the men poured a little bit of beer on the ground.

So that is what I have learned so far about vodoun. It is not much, and I am sorry if I have perhaps said anything that is incorrect, but this is vodoun as I understand it so far. And as I experience more during my life here in Benin, I am sure I will share it with you. I hope you have found this interesting and enlightening.

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Well, my French professor must have known that I was writing about political things, so we discussed them somewhat in class today. Benin is a very interesting country, politically. After independence in 1960, it experienced about 12 coups d’état (not particularly violent, in fact many of the overthrown leaders would come back in to power later, in subsequent coups, etc). Finally, Mathieu Kerekou took power in 1974, and he was the leader until 1991. He adopted a Marxist-Leninst philosophy, until he abandoned it in 1989, due to political and outside pressure. In 1990, there was a “National Conference” which was a gathering of civil society leaders, who declared themselves sovereign in Benin, wrote a new constitution, and scheduled elections. Kerekou agreed to this, and in return was promised that he would not be prosecuted for any crimes as president. When he lost the elections in 1991, he stepped aside, making Benin the first African country to transition from a dictator to a democracy peacefully.

My professor said something interesting, that “the better man in the world is the man that has the courage to change.” He was mostly talking about Kerekou’s move away from Marxism, which at the end of the Cold War period, ceased to be a helpful philosophy for him to maintain as president.

Often in the US, we ridicule people—especially politicians—who ever change their positions. And sometimes, then, they are forced to hold on to a viewpoint for fear of being labeled a “flip-flopper.” For certain, there are those who seem to change positions when it seems expedient, or to gain a political advantage with a certain crowd, so that they might be elected. And while I don’t want a leader like this, who seems to have no convictions, neither do I want someone who remains steadfast, despite any and all evidence, or even, perhaps, more importantly, in changing situations. Things may happens at a local, national, or international level, which changes how a leader should respond, and I want someone who can adapt. In the above example, Kerekou was able to use his Marxist leanings for the benefit of his country, by garnering Soviet support/money. However, when the Soviet Union fell, this was no longer an option. So it was better for his country that he embrace a more Western philosophy, and that’s what he did.

Politicians (on both sides, though I personally see this more on one side in particular) in the US oftentimes hold on to their values and views TOO rigorously. And I think this is wrong. Part of living in society is knowing that YOU DON’T GET EVERYTHING YOU WANT. I want my politicians to WORK TOGETHER. It’s being able to change your viewpoint. (i.e. “you know, I said I’d never, ever raise taxes, but for the good of the country, and so we can find an actual compromise, I will agree to this bill which may raise taxes, but also has many other measures that I agree with and it will help the economy.”)

This is why I am presenting a lot of the things I am learning here. I want you to see other viewpoints from around the world. I also try to learn; sometimes I will discuss politics with my republican uncle. And I make an effort to understand why he believes/wants certain things. And just because I understand why he does, doesn’t mean I necessarily agree with him. And it doesn’t mean that we’re ever going to find a hypothetical solution that would appease us both (though we might try). However, when you can understand a viewpoint, it makes you less likely to demonize it or the people that adhere to it. (That can apply to religion too). Again, like I mentioned before, I think you will find that ultimately everyone wants to succeed and wants their people to succeed. They want to be moral. But you may find that the methods or even their definition of success and morality to be different.

That is all for now. I hope you enjoyed this blog filled with difficult issues. Perhaps my next entry will be a little lighter.

More Navigating Porto Novo

I want to start out today’s entry with a public service announcement. This is not directed towards anyone in particular. This is just for all extroverts. And if you happen to be guilty of anything I’m about to go in to, it’s okay. I know you were just doing it because you genuinely wanted me to have fun. But, stop.

Here’s the thing: if you find yourself dragging someone on to the dance floor, who literally is digging their heels into the ground, shaking there head and saying, “no!”: stop. Go sit in a corner, and think about what you did. (Disclaimer, this didn’t happen to me per se, I just witnessed it.)

I know some people who know me well might not believe me when I tell them I’m an introvert. I spent this last year at Oklahoma in very much a leadership role amongst my friends there. Among my family I can be very loud, joking, and so on. I love dancing. I really do. I love it so much that I will get up in the middle of a club and be the first one on the dance floor if necessary. (Of course this situation is not preferred!) But let me just say, it has taken me a very, very long time to get to that point. And furthermore, I often have to get really comfortable with a group of people before I do certain things. I hate forced “icebreakers” (i.e. having to go around with a paper that has categories saying “find someone who…”). I detest any group activity that ends in the mockery of some individuals (all for learning of course!). I will never, ever, ever, volunteer to get up in front of a group, or during the performance of a comedian, etc. If you try to force me to do karaoke, I will contemplate murdering you.

So for real, I am an introvert. I hate bringing a lot of attention on myself, or even doing public things, unless I am around a group of people that I know very well and/or it is on MY TERMS. And these are very specific/borderline crazy terms. For example, if we’re talking about dancing, I prefer it to be night/dark. I can pretend like people don’t see as well. I hate being on the very edge of a group (I feel like voyeurs can be watching me from a far), but I also don’t want to be the center exhibitionist, so the middle of a blob is ideal. Alternatively, a corner in which I can hide is acceptable. Preferably, there is no audience, only other people dancing along. And I like those people to either be: a) complete strangers or b) really close friends that I am totally comfortable around. I like already being really good at the style of dance that is going on; I don’t like to learn it in front of a large group. In fact I like to be really good at that dance, so if anyone does happen to observe me, it would only be to observe how talented at dancing I am. And of course, all of these rules are relaxed when there is alcohol involved, but not completely. Like I said, borderline crazy though my rules are, don’t question them.

So you extroverts, here is what I ask of you: please, if someone isn’t dancing, or participating, etc, this might mean that they genuinely don’t want to. Yes, there are some times when people are waiting on the edges, waiting for a little encouragement to join in. So invite them. Once. MAYBE twice. But ultimately, NO MEANS NO. Don’t believe, that if only they would just loosen up, join in they would have a fabulous time. Maybe they are having a great time just watching or listening (There ARE some Perks of Being a Wallflower). Maybe if they aren’t having a good time, IT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE CONSTANTLY THREATENING TO DRAG THEM INTO PARTICIPATING, WHICH THEY DON’T WANT TO DO. Maybe they genuinely don’t like the activity which has been foisted upon them, and are just waiting for it to end. Perhaps they truly WILL NOT have a good time doing the aforementioned activity. These people can make up their own minds. Again, be a decent person and invite everyone in. But don’t force it.

Let me explain where this is coming from. Today we had a “traditional dance” session, which I was looking forward to. I don’t know what I was expecting, because I should have been expecting exactly this. There were musicians as well as dancers (I think those roles were pretty fluid within the group). They started playing and dancing, sharing music from all across Benin. Then they had people come up to join in. At first they requested that everyone who was learning Bariba (a language in the north) come up. And at this point I was so, so happy that I had chosen to stick with French. The next song, they encouraged everyone to come and dance. Some people refused at first (including me), but eventually everyone else at least got up and went to the center. So I got up as well, and just stood on the side and observed. Then at one point one of the dancers tried to drag me further into the group towards the center. I tried to pull away, and kept saying “no.” Luckily, one of the facilitators stopped him, I think telling him, it wasn’t required that everyone joined in or something like that. But the point is, that the moment he let go, I literally started crying. I’ve only had that reaction once before, I think at a middle-school dance, when I feel as though I’m in such a stressful social situation that I want to cry. Of course, I’m embarrassed that I’m standing there with tears in my eyes, trying to blink them away, but I can’t shake the absolute terror I just experienced at the prospect of being dragged to the center of attention. So I just have to close my eyes and listen to the music that I am TRYING to enjoy, while attempting to discreetly wipe away the tears that have appeared. Soon after that, I saw some other volunteers trying to drag another girl to the center; this is the one that was digging her heels into the ground. My point is, please let people make their own adult decisions about whether they want to join in or not.

Okay, this ends my public service announcement. I hope you take it to heart. Pass it on to your extrovert friends, so they can understand. Being and introvert means that social situations are emotionally draining. Don’t make it more stressful. Give encouragement to everyone; be proud of the introverts for even deigning to come out at all.  Give me credit for overcoming my shyness and coming halfway across the world to live in a completely different society to try to make an impact on the world. Let me not dance if I don’t want to. That is all.

Now I will return to the other things going on in my life here.

Tuesday, 3 July 2012

I am really glad that I have had a lot of experience being in foreign places and figuring things out for myself. Today, my teacher had told me that we would be meeting at the one place, called Songhai (basically an environmental compound). So I asked my host mom last night how I would get there, and she had the neighbor that had driven me to the cybercafé take me. He drops me off there, and I’m waiting around, but I see no other Yovos in sight. So I check my book schedule to see if it gives a specific place in Songhai where we are meeting. Then I see that we aren’t, in fact, meeting at Songhai, but at “École Normale Superior,” a school that is another a normal meeting place for us. I have a brief moment of panic, when a string of curse words may have rapidly crossed my mind. Here I am, in some random part of Porto Novo, with no cell phone, no numbers to call even if I did; I have no idea how to get to the ENS, and I have only a vague idea on how to get home, but that would take me probably +45 minutes or so to walk. Then I took a deep breath, and look around. I see that there are plenty of student-aged people around. I can ask them how much a zemi costs to go to the ENS, then find a zemi on the nearby road. So I walked toward the entrance, looking for any other of the volunteers that might have made this same mistake of arriving here (I swear the Peace Corps people kept repeating “Songhai—Tuesday”; I don’t blame this entirely on my teacher), when suddenly, my teacher appears on his moto, says, “Oh, the location changed,” (lies) and whisked me away to the ENS. And so that crisis was averted.

The training today was a bunch of different things, from “resiliency”, to safety and security, to diarrhea (fun) and other common ailments for those in Benin. The first was “resiliency, which I, perhaps in my vanity, don’t really think I need. Sure, there will be rough times here, whether it’s the culture, some individuals, or me feeling like I’m not accomplishing something, etc, etc. I’ve already described for you different things that have been frustrating (i.e., “oh there is xyz near/far” without more explanation). But these don’t really bother me; I might just roll my eyes and think “C.C.A.”, which means, “C’est Ça, l’Afrique.” (for you non-francophones, that means “That’s Africa!”). And I honestly don’t get stressed, maybe just if I have a lot of papers due. Although here, I might have the opposite problem of having way to much time and not enough to do. But while I may find this frustrating, again, I feel like it wouldn’t ruin my time here. Plus I’m pretty good at trying to figure out what to do. Like lately I’ve felt a little bored, since most of the time my family just watches TV in the evening, and often its soaps and/or bollywood, etc. I don’t really enjoy that. So I’ve asked my host cousin if he can take me to a book shop and show me good Beninese novels, so I can read them in my down time. But okay, when I have a breakdown in a few months or so, you can remind me of this blog entry, so the Peace Corps can then tell me, “I told you so.” Right now, however, being here feels so right, and I can’t even imagine a prolonged unhappiness or frustrations I can’t handle.

My main problem will probably be my hatred of asking anyone for help if I end up actually needing it. I’ve always felt this way. I actually enjoy taking care of people, but I try to never let anyone take care of me (obviously, except for my mom, etc, when I was younger, and even now). So if I am feeling extremely frustrated, or I have a problem, etc, it will take a lot for me to reach out. Granted, the Peace Corps doesn’t want you calling them every time you get a little sad, but they also don’t want you to hide your worries inside until suddenly exploding into a need to quit and leave. They keep encouraging us to use the Peer Support Network, which is made of some current volunteers who can offer aid, encouragement, insight, etc. I doubt I will ever call them, though.

On the other hand, my independence and willingness to problem-solve I think will be a really good trait. For example, today, towards the end of classes, my professors told me that we would be getting our bicycles, and that we could ride them home. In true Peace Corps and/or Beninese fashion (I’m not sure which is to blame), no warning. No, “Oh by the way, make sure you know the route to and from school by Tuesday because you will have to get home on your own.” All we get is a surprised, “What do you mean you don’t know your way home already? This is your second day coming here!” We are given no maps; there are no road signs; no one gives directions. We are not told the “rules of the road” here; I guess we are just supposed to figure it out by observation. So the directors offered to call our families and tell them to come pick us up and show us the way home. But in my head, I just thought, “No, I basically know the way home. And I’ve watched people deal with traffic. I’ll just wing it.” Luckily, there were a few other people who live really near to me, who had basically the same idea. So we winged it together, a little train of yovos on bikes, braving the Beninese traffic and praying that we made it safely. We did, but it definitely takes a lot of focus and awareness. I can’t bike with my hands off the handlebars, pretending I’m edgy and Frenchie. Oh well.

Other than my harrowing experiences, there are some things I would like to note. Firstly, that my family was very impressed by my card-shuffling abilities. Here in Benin, they shuffle cards by holding them long-ways in their one hand, then pulling out random cards and throwing them on top with the other hand. My host cousin, Sasha, tried a few times to tension-shuffle (that’s what I’ll call the American/poker method for shuffling) and then bridge the cards back together like I do, then said, “Ahh, this is just for whites!” and gave them back to me. But then he said to give him two days, and he will be able to do it. So I guess he will practice.

Related to cards, I thought it was really interesting that the night that I played cards in the monastery, the two staff members that played with us showed us a card trick that actually my dad had showed me when I was young. It involves taking 21 cards, putting them in three columns, and eventually being able pick out the other person’s card after they’ve told you which column it is in. I like pointing these things out to remind myself, and everyone reading this, what a small world, in fact, it is.

On another random note, on Monday, my French classes were at my house, but the chairs we were sitting in were very uncomfortable. So I kept moving around, then at one point I laid on the floor on my stomach, then later I sat on the floor and used my chair as a table. Then my teacher asked, “Are you Muslim? Because you like sitting on the floor a lot.” I guess that’s a weird thing to do? Unless you really are Muslim? I don’t know. But it was a really random thing for him to say, I thought.

Thursday, 5 July 2012

Yesterday, I rode my bike to school, very successfully, so I was proud of myself. We had language classes all day. Then at the end of every day, we are supposed to do a immersion, or “community” session, where we go somewhere new and practice our French in the community. We decided to go on a mission to find a map and some Beninese novels. First we tried a “Papeterie”, or basically a “Paper Shop”. There you find things like notebooks, cards, etc. They told us they didn’t have a map of Porto-Novo, but to try the Post Office. The Post Office didn’t have any, so they told us to try to newspaper vendors next to them. The vendors didn’t have any, so they told us to try the Mayor’s Office. Which was too far away. So that part of the mission failed. However, I was very happy to have purchased two books written by Beninese authors: Un piege sans fin and l’Arbre fetiche. They will give me something to do when I have free time.

Since yesterday was the 4^th of July, the volunteers met up. Not all of us together, but a group there, a group here, etc. So our professor left us at the bar where we were meeting, which was close to the bookshop. We hung out, some people got hamburgers, and most people got beers or the like. When we left, Drew and I had a basic idea of the way we needed to go. But we weren’t sure. We ended up getting a little lost. We knew the basic direction that we needed to go, but not the exact routes. Luckily we were on our bikes, so we could ride around pretty quickly. And we asked a few people how to go towards the school, before we finally saw a landmark we recognized so we could get home. It’s a very frustrating experience, but I am glad that we have the French to be able to figure it out pretty easily.

I really do feel for the people here who don’t have the French skills, or perhaps have just never done something like this before. While I wrote yesterday that I feel I don’t really need “resiliency training” (though it will probably come in handy at some point), I completely understand that some people do. I know my first night in France (this was the first time I had ever left the country), I definitely found it really hard to communicate with my family, and I think I went to bed crying. But after hours of refreshing sleep, I woke up, ready to take on the French experience. And I’ve had a lot of international experiences since then, which definitely help me deal with my current situation. So I can’t really sympathize directly with other volunteers who are encountering a lot of frustrations, can’t speak French, or are dealing with culture shock. I do, however, try to be understanding, and maybe give suggestions. Or offer them some things they could say in French if they encountered similar frustrating situations again. I feel like I begin a lot of sentences with “When I was in…” but I hope they take this as me just sharing knowledge, not as a bragging thing.

Today I took my first zemi, which my host cousin called for me. It was fine; no helmet-banging. We had language classes in the morning, then after lunch we had a session called “Gender and Development.”

This is a topic that is very interesting to me. And its obviously important. I think it was Warren Buffett (renowned and awesome billionaire) who said something to the effect that, yes, he was very successful, but in reality it was easy since he only really had to compete against 50% of the population. Its important to consider in developing countries—and even in our own—that if women are undervalued, then you aren’t utilizing half of your population. Imagine the amazing discoveries that could be made, the breakthroughs in every field, if women were given the same resources and opportunities. Its sad to think of the lost potential for the world, just because someone with the brain to make or discover something, was born with the inopportune trait of having a vagina. Nicholas Kristof (NYTimes writer) wrote a book called Half the Sky, which I really wanted to read before I left, but I didn’t have a chance to. But he talks about the importance of women and their potential.

In developing countries, women are especially important because of the role they do play in the family. If they have an increased income, then the household tends to be much better off: the kids eat more, have better nutrition, are more likely to go to school, and so on. In our roles in the Peace Corps, we have the opportunity to consider gender in the various things we do, and even take on side projects that address this issue directly in our community. Of course there are many cultural things to consider; you can’t just change gender roles in a community with one lecture or workshop. However, empowering women and girls even on a local level can have a resounding effect throughout the entire country. Listening to these sessions, I am ready and pumped just to jump in to my assignment. I am excited to begin, although, of course, I haven’t even been given a specific city or project yet. I must be patient. But I hope to recall all this enthusiasm I have for issues like Gender in Development when I am actually at my post.

After classes were done, my host mom picked me up and took me to her family house. I am learning more and more about the city layout, and am starting to figure it all out. I think Porto Novo is actually smaller than I first imagined. Anyway, I got to meet some more of her siblings, including Sasha’s father. He is an awesome old man, with silver hair. He normally lives in Northern New Jersey, and actually knew where Frederick is! I really, really like this extended family I have here. For a brief moment, I imagined it would be cool to have so many siblings; then I realized that was crazy. I think my sisters and I were enough for my parents to handle. And I enjoy all the time I spend with them. I just had a moment when I looked at all the older brothers, sitting around, chilling, in this huge house, where every day would have felt like a gathering to me, and thought that might be cool. I think it’s awesome as well, how many cousins I have. Built in friends.

I have truly been blessed with my host family experience. I know its not always guaranteed to work out. But my first family, in France, was just my host mom, then her boyfriend. She was really nice, but also really chill, and let me do whatever. And of course, I love my Senegalese family. I became really close with my brother when I was there, and my host mom was wonderful. This is a completely different experience; having a pretty huge (extended) family. But it’s really exciting.

Saturday, 7 July 2012

Yesterday we had our language class, as usual, but this time, we met at our professor’s house. We always have a “pose”, which is a break. During this time he left and went to make photocopies at the school. When he returned, he started telling us about how recently a law was enacted in Porto-Novo that you have to wear helmets when riding a motorcycle, but policemen have just been using this as an excuse to stop people, and make them pay the officer as a bribe to not get the ticket. Apparently there was one on his route, and he was not wearing a helmet (he was only going a short distance and forgot). When we asked him how much the fine/bribe was, he said, “Non, j’ai fui!” Which means, “I fled!” At the point, the other student, Drew, and I started laughing hysterically. We imagined our professor in some harrowing chase. We explained to him that fleeing would be a terrible idea in the US, but he said that here, you just make a few turns on your moto, and can lose the officer on the backroads or in traffic. Additionally, the officer will usually be scared to follow someone, because they might lead him to their house then beat him. Drew and I continued laughing, and concluded that our professor is a bad-ass. When he explained the story more, however, I think we had misunderstood a bit, because he said that other people had told him there was a police officer waiting around to find someone to extort, so that’s how he knew to “flee”. So ultimately, I think it was more like people in the US flashing their headlights to warn other drivers of a speed trap, rather than a grand fleeing a cop. Although the first version was a little more awesome. Since then, however, he has been careful to always where his helmet.

We had lunch at the Ecole Normale, and a lady walked in selling coconuts for about 20 cents. I definitely bought one. They were enclosed, but once I indicated that I wanted one, she hacked away at it with a machete-looking thing, so that there appeared a small circle from which I could drink the liquid inside. Then once I had finished that, I gave it back to her, and she cut open the coconut completely, and scraped off the “meat” part of it, which is just a thin layer with a rubber-ish texture. But it tastes pretty good. Not at all what you would imagine it tasting like, if you’ve only ever had the sweet coconut we get in the states. But still pretty awesome nonetheless. I felt really cool standing there thinking, “Oh, no big deal, I’m just drinking/eating from a coconut.”

We also had a session on bicycle maintenance. I think this was really awesome. We learned how to clean the cables and chains on our bike, how to address problems that might be occurring, and how to fix a flat tire. I really like this ability to take care of my own issues. Whenever I’ve had a problem with my tires, I’ve always had to take it to a bicycle shop. Now I will be able to just do it all on my own! Provided, of course, that I have the proper supplies.

That evening, I attempted to ride bikes with my cousin, so he could show me some of the city. But unfortunately, the family bike was broken. I joked that he could just sit on the back part of the bike, where there is a place to put things over the back tire. We ended up just walking around. I asked my brother, just for information, if it was okay to buy liquor from the small shops we passed along the side of the road. He said no, because apparently those could be fakes. So he ended up taking me to a supermarket to by some rum, even though I tried to explain that I didn’t need some now, I just wanted to know for the future. But then I found some Sobabi, which is kind of like the local moonshine, made from palm oil. This one said that it was 45°. I have no idea what that means. 45% alcohol? 45 proof? The opposite, aka 90% alcohol? I guess I’ll find out at some point. At the moment I was buying it, however, I realized how dramatically inappropriate I was at the moment. Here I was, wearing a spaghetti-strap, since I had thought I would just be sitting around the house, and the dress code isn’t as important there. Moreover, I was a female, out at night (it had gotten dark while we were walking), with a man, buying alcohol. If anything were to earn me this feared “reputation” the Peace Corps keeps warning me about, that would be it. I really hadn’t intended for any of these things to happen, but they did thanks to broken bikes and miscommunications, and simply me not really thinking about what I was doing. Yes, I do kind of resent that my movements and actions are restricted in this country, because I am a woman. And if I get a bad reputation, I won’t be as respected in my work, and may not be able to make the impact that I would like to make. But I will try to adhere to these cultural expectations, at least to a large degree, though also its sometimes hard to think about everything that I’m doing, like, “will this be taken wrong?” At least we have these few months in Porto Novo, to make all these cultural faux pas, learn from them, and then move away to somewhere where no one knows about the inappropriate things that we’ve accidentally done. Or purposefully done. For example, my host cousin, Sasha, has promised to take me to a nightclub, so hopefully we will go there tonight. I had asked current volunteers what the dress code was for going out, and they responded that girls don’t get dressed up to go out to bars. Firstly, I don’t actually believe that. And secondly, I was talking more about nightclubs, rather than just simple bars. So I asked my host cousin what people wear to clubs, and he responded, “tout”, which means “everything”. He told me I could where the shortest of short skirts if I wanted. This I also don’t believe. Even in the US, a dress that is “too short” can earn you some unpleasant labels. My plan is to err on the conservative side, then if I find that there is a more permissible dress code, then I can wear something different the next time I go out.

Well that’s all for now. I will continue to keep you updated on my success (or lack thereof) in navigating Benin.

As I get adjusted…

Sunday, 1 July 2012

While I am sitting in my room listening to the water drip through my water filter, I have discovered that I find that very annoying, yet I find listening to the water drip off the roof from the rain is soothing. I don’t know why I feel that way, but there it is.

I had a long talk with Sasha, who is my (male) cousin. I made him explain to me who everyone was, or at least try to. I have discovered that pretty much everything in my previous post was wrong. There are some people that I thought were identified as my cousins, but really are neighbors. I’m not sure whose fault that is, because in French the two words are very similar (cousin/voisin). So it’s possible that I just misheard on some of them. On the other hand, Beninese people tend to call people their “cousins”, or “uncles”, or “aunts” who really aren’t. For example, I am 80% sure that Maman introduced someone as her sister the other day, who is in fact our neighbor. Or I am just getting confused. But regardless, for someone like me, who really values precision, this is going to be hard.

Additionally, Maman mentioned having 18 brother and sisters (did I hear her right?), and I think she also mentioned something about me meeting them sometime in the future. So I will get to meet a lot of them, plus of course their plethora of children. So that should be a fun time, trying to remember everyone! Yikes!

A lot of the neighbors in this area seem to be close, or at least close with my family. Because the person I thought was perhaps an uncle the other day, turns out to be just a neighbor, although Maman was perfectly okay with letting him take me on a motorcycle ride to an internet café.

So this brings up another topic, and that is that I feel like I haven’t actually been in Benin, per se. Like I arrived at the airport, was thrown on a bus, transported to inside a monastery. Then driven from the monastery, and into the Peace Corps office compound (and back and forth a few times). Then I got in a van to drive to Porto Novo, went into some environmental compound, and from their left with Maman to go to our house. Each time I’ve left (only twice so far), I’ve been transported on a moto directly to my destination. It feels kind of bizarre. In thinking about it, maybe that is actually normal for many Americans who have to drive everywhere. I, however, am so used to walking, especially when I was at school. Now I feel like I am in this prisoner-esque state where I have to be escorted in a van or on a moto everywhere, or else remain inside locked walls. I know I’ve been here less than a week, so hopefully I will be able to get out and explore soon.

Also it’s driving me crazy that I can’t find a map of Porto-Novo. When I was in Senegal, I was given a beautiful map, but perhaps that was because Dakar is a better-known destination for Westerners. But I am very visual when it comes to location, and I just want to be able to figure out where the heck I am, and where everything else is in relation to me. Maybe I’ll pdf the google-map of Porto-Novo, if that is even an option, to study it. Also, what else is even out there for me to see in Porto-Novo???? I really need to get out.

Another perplexing thing for me is that I have a foot-locker in which to keep my valuables, as well as the ability to lock my room. The lazy part of me finds this annoying (*gasp*, actually having to put things away every time I use them). I also don’t want to have to lock my room every time I go out to the family room. Although I was explaining this to Sasha, and he pointed out that I’ve already seen tons of people go in and out of the house. Obviously, I trust my family, but what is to stop a random neighbor from taking something? Especially since it would be hard to trace the blame to anyone, seeing as it could a bunch of people. Sigh, I know this is true. This would be true in any country, city, etc, when there are a lot of people coming in and out of my house. I guess I will, at the very least, have to lock up any valuables I am not currently using in my locker, and Maman insists that I lock my room every time I leave the house.

Communication is still an issue. My family jokes in the local language all the time, so they will just start laughing and I will have no idea why, I just kind of smile awkwardly. And my French is so-so. I’ve also discovered that a lot of the time, my family expects a response, I can’t just smile and say “Oui,” when I don’t understand them. A lot of times when I don’t understand or can’t hear someone in the US, I just smile and nod, and that’s fine, but it’s not doing me any good here. I think now I just look dumb or something, oh well.

Monday, 2 July 2012

Okay, so perhaps I should remember to be careful what you wish for. After writing yesterday about how I was upset that I hadn’t really had a chance to leave the house, today, during the break, I maybe wished I could just go back to being there. So French class was actually scheduled at my house, but we had to get lunch on our own. So we asked our professor where we should go to eat, and his response was just, “Oh, there are places around,” before hopping on his motorcycle and heading off. So I asked my family, and their response was, “Well, there are no good places here, so you have to take a zemi.” And I’m not sure if its just a miscommunication thing, or an African thing (I experienced similar frustrations in Senegal), but this information is not exactly helpful. I don’t understand why it is so hard to say, “Oh, why don’t you take a zemi to Point X, and go to this place called, ‘XYZ’”? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT “YOU HAVE TO TAKE A ZEMI” MEANS? To WHERE? Someone please tell me.

So sent on our way, with this absolutely unhelpful information, my classmate and I (there are only two of us) simply decided to walk along the main road and look for food. The problem is that it isn’t necessarily a good idea to buy veggies that don’t have skins, etc off street vendors, because they can be really dirty or have been washed in dirty water. Although I will soon learn how to properly clean veggies and fruits if I do want to eat them fresh. (Sidenote, I learned recently that apparently the skins of Mangos have something similar to what is in poison ivy in them. So therefore, if you are very sensitive to poison ivy, it is recommended not to eat them like Beninese people to, which is basically take a hug bite out of one side, but not swallow it, flip it around and eat the yummy inside, then suck the rest of it out through the hole you just made. I haven’t seen this done yet, but I have seen it done with oranges. It looks kind of bizarre, but I guess it works. They probably thought I was bizarre when I peeled my orange, and especially when I was so proud of myself for getting it off in one piece).

ANYWAY, we ended up just buying two avocados, then two baguettes, and heading back to my house to make a sandwich. Maybe next time I will start off with a better plan, like asking my family, can you take me to buy xyz, or to a restaurant, etc.

Then at the end of the day, my professor took us to a cybercafé to practice using our French to talk to the proprietor of the shop, then of course to use the internet. He just leaves us there, and is like, “You can get back to your house, right? Just walk or take a zemi.” No helpful information like, “It could cost ___” or “tell the zemi driver to take you to this landmark.” Good thing I’ve had plenty of practice navigating foreign places, so I can figure it out.

Well that’s all for now. Wish me luck!

Days of Confusion

Thursday, 28 - Saturday, 30 June 2012

So later on Thursday I had an interview with my directors of the CED (Community Economic Development) to start talking about my placement. Although we didn’t really talk about that, but about random things like my home, or what I know about Benin. Then I left, feeling like my interview had missed the point, but oh well. We will have another one in a few weeks that should clarify things more.

I officially decided to go with French. I really want to learn it. Also I’m glad I did, because I have tons of questions about the way to say certain things to my family, etc. One being that I wanted to ask where I can get actual coffee grinds. Here, Nescafe, which is instant coffee, is very prevalent. But I want real coffee. I kept repeating this, “vrai café” but to no avail. My professor informed me that it is called “café granulé”, which I guess literally translates to granulated coffee. So hopefully my family will be able to find it for me in the supermarket. And hopefully, then won’t bring me Folgers, or I might cry. But my attempts to describe what I wanted last night went something like: “You know, coffee, that’s been grown on a farm. And you take the bean and cut it up into little pieces, put it in water and then after a little bit you separate the beans from the water.” My host brother just looks at me and says, “Why do you want such complicated coffee??” Also, he didn’t understand my use of “instant” coffee. So my hope is that I will eventually be able to make myself very clear in French, not just semi-clear in French and even less clear in a local language.

It’s interesting to think that I only went for my first ride on a motorcycle less than a month ago, but now it looks like I will be riding them all the time. This is the most prevalent way to travel around Benin. In most countries, the Peace Corps (PC) strictly forbids any volunteer ever from riding a motorcycle. If you are caught, the will “separate” you. Which I guess basically means fire you. Or dishonorably discharge you, whatever you want to call it. They take safety very seriously, because it’s important for the volunteers as well as the PC image. In the case of Benin, we can ride motos, but if we don’t wear a helmet, then we can be automatically separated. (On a side note, not sleeping under a mosquito net can also merit separation. As can visiting restricted countries, such as Niger and Nigeria.)

When we were at the PC headquarters, we had a training session for the “zemis” which are the moto-taxis. They are strictly regulated in Benin (another reason why the PC is probably more apt to let volunteers ride them), and easily identifiable. But we had to practice calling them, telling them where we are going, and negotiating the price. Then the zemi drivers that were there took us around in groups for a quick ride.

So in every movie ever, girls always ride a motorcycle by putting their arms around the guy in front of them. I thought this was the only possible way to ride a moto. But here, touching the driver is kind of taboo. So if you are nervous, or feel off-balance or whatever, you can hold on to the metal bar behind the seat or something like that. But most people seem to ride around perfectly relaxed, just going with this flow. We even saw a yovo (that is the most common word for “white person” in Benin) the first night, who was riding on the back of the moto, arms folded, just looking around. Some women might but their kids right in front of them, and a lot of people just put their hands on their knees. I tried this, but then I banged my helmet against the driver’s helmet when he changed gears. Oooops… I felt really bad, and then just clung on to the back the rest of the time. Driving is very…let’s say unconventional, but one person here commented that it seems like Beninese drivers are forced to be much, much more aware of their surroundings at all times. That means no texting and driving!!! lol.

My host mom also owns a moto, and she took me to my language class on Saturday. Then my professor brought me home, so he could check that my water filter was put together properly. On the way, he was running out of gas, so he just pulled over to a shop, where some kid brought over a glass bottle filled with gasoline, and dumped it in. Kind of random, but I guess that works.

Okay, and I know that I said I should stop comparing Benin and Senegal (and Cameroon), but I just wanted to point out some differences. I think Benin and Cameroon are more similar in some ways (which I guess makes sense based on their geographical vicinity). For example, I remember seeing tons and tons of motos in Cameroon, but not so many in Senegal. Also, both Benin and Cameroon have a very, VERY strict policy on returning glass bottles when you are finished. Bottles are used over and over again, so if you don’t return the bottle you are actually charged more. I think this is really awesome, as it cuts down on trash, which is a problem, especially in the cities. And of course, in general, it makes a more sustainable world. It saddens me that Americans are lazy and can’t deal with returning bottles to the store or don’t want to deal with glass in general / our government doesn’t insist upon this happening. I am happy with places like my county where recycling is easily available for every inhabitant. But then places like Stillwater, where recycling takes a lot more effort (and therefore many people don’t do it), are frustrating. Senegal, too, does not really have a great reusing/recycling program, which I think would be extremely helpful. Especially when I walked by piles of burning garbage many days on my way home from school. Although I’m pretty sure the garbage-burning is a problem here in Benin too.

So anyways, back to my adventures here: Friday was chaotic, and we arrived in Porto-Novo two hours late (African Time, ftw!). But when I finally arrived. I met my host mom, we listened to a few words from the PC directors, etc, got my bags and then headed to my new home.

When I got a picture of my family, it was just of my host mom, and two boys (looking like young and older teens). So I thought it might be a small family, like I had in Senegal. But when I arrived at the house, there was actually a lot of people. So far, I know that I have a brother and sister my age-ish, and a younger brother, an aunt (my mom’s sister), then her young daughter, which would be my cousin. I think I have another older female cousin. Plus I went back to the family room after dinner, when my family was watching some soaps dubbed in French, and there were other people sitting there to whom I had not yet been introduced. Then today, I met another man, who seems like me may be some sort of uncle? I’m not quite sure. Plus there were other girls that came by, and I’m not sure if they were just friends or cousins, or really how fluid those definitions are. So…yeah. Once I figure out who everyone is, I may just have a lot of friends/family here. Although this is definitely going to be hard, since I absolutely hate asking people what there name is, especially if I know I’ve already been introduced. Usually my strategy (such as when I was working at Outback or just now learning the names of the PC volunteers), is to wait around for someone to have forgotten MY name, and ask me, then respond with theirs. Or to listen for someone else to say their name. Although this might be harder when everyone is speaking French, plus it all fails when you need to get someone’s attention or ask them a question; it’s been two weeks, and you still don’t know there name. :( Ahh, wish me luck!

ALSO… there are two dogs that I guess would be considered family dogs, because they stay in the front porch area at all times, plus one even has a collar. They don’t go inside, however, and they seem like they definitely aren’t used to being petted a lot. And that’s all I want to do, but I’m not sure if it’s the best idea. The one (Malicky) is SO adorable, because it is only one month old or so. I just want to pick it up and cuddle, but again, probably not the best idea. And I think the family thought I was weird for even petting them a bunch. Oh well.

One challenge I’ve had so far is figuring out the water situation. I definitely have electricity (although that can change due to frequent black-outs that occur); however, I’m just not sure what is going on with the water. The bathroom is just this huge cube-shaped room, in which there is a toilet, bidet, sink, and a shower-stick with no curtains or anything. The toilet didn’t flush last night, so I just took a bowl of water out of one of the buckets and dumped it down the toilet to make it flush. But then this morning, I went in to take a shower, and the faucet below the shower area was running water into the buckets! And I was able to flush the toilet. Then I went to take a shower, but I was worried because the buckets were almost full, and I didn’t want to waste a ton of water (it was coming out really fast). So I am in this bathroom, trying to shower really quickly, so the buckets won’t be full before I was done, but then I tried to turn the shower on, and it squirted a bit, then stopped. So I fooled around with that for a while, panicking that the bucket was going to fill up too quickly, finally gave up on the shower, and just started using the buckets. (Although, I must say, I almost prefer bucket showers since you don’t have stand under the cold, running, water, you just throw it on the necessary parts of your body). But alas, the bucket was full and overflowing, so I try to turn the faucet off, but I keep turning and turning it, but the water would not stop. And I can’t go get anyone to help, since obviously I am taking a shower and not decent. So finally I figure out to push the faucet down, then turn, and the water stops. So I finish bathing, then try to turn it back on to rinse, but of course that doesn’t work either. So I used the water from the buckets to rinse off, then throw on my clothes, and run to my room, hoping no one notices the vast amounts of mistakes that I clearly made.

I talked to my French professor today, and he pointed out some things that I could maybe explain what happened, and encourage me to ask my host family to show me how to use the shower. Which I probably should do ASAP, rather than waiting 2 months to be like, “Btw, how does the shower actually work?” But knowing me, that is an entirely likely situation. Or me taking bucket showers when a real shower is perfectly available is probably more likely. We’ll see.

So yeah, a bunch of confusion on my part. Hopefully I will figure everything out in time. Also, there is a closet in my room, but apparently the keys have been broken on it, and no one has ever bothered to fix it. My host mom was like, “Why can’t you just fold your clothes and put them in your trunk?” And in my head, I’m thinking, “Because you see that pile of clothes on the floor that I just pulled out from my suitcase? Yeah, that’s probably the cleanest it will ever get,” but I just responded, “Oh, I’m just really disorganized.” So hopefully I will have a closet to shove clothes in soon. I think shelves are still a thing, but lets get real. I don’t really hang my clothes up at home. A while after laundry, they are just helter-skelter in my closet, but at least in there, they are hidden from people that walk by.

I think that’s all for now. I hope you enjoyed my somewhat humorous struggles through Benin.

Sunday, 1 July 2012

So just a quick update as I post:

First of all, I figured out the water situation. Apparently there is a big switch in the back of the house that my family turns on only occasionally, when they feel like filling up the buckets. So looks like its bucket showers for me! And always a fun time flushing the toilet; pouring a big bowl of water, hoping it forces everything down.

Also, my family brought me back a big container of “café soluble” which is basically the same thing as NesCafe, but I guess just a different brand. They were like: this is it, right? Then when I tried to further explain the difference, they said that it is actually impossible to get café granulé here. One must venture to Cotonou, and it is not entirely guaranteed to find it there. I refuse to accept this. I will venture through the supermarkets of Porto-Novo. Or I will just have my family send me some from the states. Kind of ironic that we get a lot of our coffee from Africa, yet I have to have it sent to me from the States. But of course, that is capitalism at its (un)finest. Or well… I guess I could go into a whole rant about capitalism and hypocrisy, and Multi-National Corporations, the WTO, World Bank, etc, etc. But I’ll leave that to your imagination.

In other, better news, I have finally caught up on sleep, which is good. I took a nap yesterday, and when I came out, my family offered me a glass of wine. Then the main females of the family just sat around drinking and laughing. I think I will fit in well here! Unfortunately, most of their discussions are in whatever local language they speak, so I pretty much miss all of the jokes. But hopefully I will be able to participate more fully as time goes by.

The First Few Days

So this is just an overview of my travels and the first few days in Benin. There isn’t too much exciting things going on, just a lot of traveling, waiting, paperwork, and more paperwork. But I guess you can just read about my tedious adventure getting here to Benin!!!!

Monday, 25 June 2012

So I’ve officially started my Peace Corps adventure. There isn’t really much to report except long lines. We had an intro session yesterday after all the paperwork was complete, but it was just a lot of stuff we already (should) know.

Today, the check-in at the airport took TWO HOURS to get everyone through. (Although, we did get the express lane at security, so that was helpful) I mean there are 60+ of us, but it shouldn’t take that long. I spent the entire time telling people that tried to get in line behind us to not go here, go around to the other side and check in with the computer, or talk to the lady in red. Because we were such a large group, the airline was letting people go around us to the other lines, while a specific group of workers dealt with us. One thing that was significant, at least for me, was that at one point, when our line was actually dwindling, there was a Muslim family behind us (the woman was wearing a hijab), and I explained to the husband that he actually needed to talk to this one employee that had been helping people the whole time, and she would point them to a shorter line. So he went to check with her, while his wife and kids stayed behind. The wife said that they were cutting it close time-wise, but then she said, “It is what it is.” This kind of made me stop for a second, because that is a phrase that my mom and one of my friends use ALL THE TIME. For me it was a quick reminder that people can be from all different backgrounds, and you still find little connections with them, even in their attitudes on life. I just smiled at her, we exchanged a few words, and then her family was off to the shorter line.

So now I’m just sitting in the airport. We have A LOT of that to look forward to. A whole additional 24 hours, yay. A good portion of that time will just be sitting in airports.

Also, I can’t remember anyone’s name to save my life. I try repeating it out loud, saying it 500 times (ok slight exaggeration) in my head, etc. Luckily, however, most people seem to have that problem, so I just have to listen in when someone else asks another person, “So what’s your name again?”

The next day…

Okay, so we spent almost 2 hours just sitting on the plane on the tarmac, waiting to take off. This was my first (and hopefully only) experience with NY airports, and it was pretty miserable and stupid. I didn’t sleep much on the plane, oh well. Then we had hours of waiting at the airport in Brussels, then the flight to Benin. (Side note, I’ve concluded that the service received on European airlines is FAR, FAR superior to those received on the various American airlines. Like not charging you for e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. and also making sure you get the things they’re giving out, even if you may be sleeping. I’m just saying.

ALSO, we finally made it to Benin. The first thing I noticed was the existence of stoplights in the road and then that DRIVERS ACTUALLY FOLLOWED THEM. From my previous African experiences, this is an absolutely remarkable breakthrough. Following traffic lights/signals/signs: what a novel idea!

Although I will say that I really need to stop comparing every to Senegal. It’s so easy, because I lived there fore 3 months, and certainly Benin has similarities. So sometimes, when others may be surprised (i.e., :look, there are no lanes for the road; everyone just drives like they want!), then my response—mentally—is “duh!” However, on the other hand there are many things that are different, and I need to start comparing.

Another random thing that I notices was that at some of the shops they set up on the main road had flatscreen tvs set up, like little mini bestbuys or something. It cracked me up.

The day after that…

Just a lot of training today. It was more introductory stuff, just an outline of what we will  be doing, what to expect in the country, blah, blah, blah. Although one of the sessions was specifically for women volunteers, and I found that to be helpful, yet at the same time disconcerting.

After all the sessions, a group of us decided to play some cards, and also get some beers. It is interesting that we are staying in a religious compound / monastery, yet can be served alcohol. Maybe that’s just me still being naïve and what not. For some reason, I was the last one of the volunteers to stay playing cards. I just looked up, and everyone was gone, except I think for some of the compound staff. On the plus side, I learned what all the suites were called in French, so I view this as a success. Although I stayed up way to late and will probably regret this when 6 AM roles around tomorrow, and I have to wake up. Oops.

Thursday, 28 June 2012

So today was some training, but mostly interviews, etc to start determining our eventual placements, etc. I also was informed that I did well enough on the French language interview to merit proceeding directly to a local language. It’s not required to do that, but its and option. And while it may be completely out of character for me to think of refusing the chance to learn yet ANOTHER language, I’m thinking about it. The main issue is that Benin is, in fact, filled with so many languages, that learning a language intensely might eventually prove useless, when you actually arrive in village or town that speaks an entirely different language, or a kind of sub-language of the one you learned.

Furthermore, I always feel like I can communicate in French, but do so haphazardly. I think my grammar is horrendous, and sometimes my grammar might be limited. I want to be able to communicate precisely, especially when dealing with the business-related-things for my assignment. Plus I think my long-term goals are possibly leaning towards translating, or diplomatic things, and unfortunately the local languages of Benin are very, very limited in their applicability worldwide. That may be a little selfish, but I feel like I can justify it by saying that I also want to get really good at French so I can use it to better relations between the US and French-speaking (African) countries. Maybe I doubt my French too much (I usually underestimate my abilities in a lot of things, or maybe that’s just me being irrationally humble), but I also don’t want to spend a few months learning something that might potentially be no use to me. The only real advantage would be that I would be able to understand (again, provided I learn the right language) when to Beninese people are talking to each other in my presence.

So that’s pretty much all that’s going on for now. Hopefully I will have more exciting updates soon!

Peace Corps Update

So due to the awesome efficiency of our government (not), the Peace Corps recently conducted an overview of the Small Enterprise Development program in Togo, and concluded that there weren't any good projects. For some reason this wasn't done BEFORE they started assigning people there. The long and short of it is, however, that I am no longer going to Togo. Instead I am going to Benin, as an Economic Development Advisor. So basically, I am going to be one country over, doing (almost) the same type of thing. So after a bit of freaking out, I simply went a slightly un-dramatic change. And I will be leaving a month later which allows me a little more time to prepare, visit with family/friends I am leaving behind, etc. So all in all I think this has worked out for the better. I am really excited about this new assignment. For now, I am just trying to get everything in order before I leave and finishing up with school.

It just occurred to me that it was this time of year, almost exactly three years ago (Okay, three years and two weeks) that I was in Africa for the very first time. I went there as an Alternative Spring Break, bringing computers to some schools in Cameroon. What an amazing journey since then. How blessed I feel to have been able to go back and study in Senegal, and now I have this chance to go live in Benin for over two years!