Step By Step

Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Well, I think the rainy season is trying to start. Everyone says that it’s really not until June, and Anna swears she did not see a drop of water fall from the sky during this time last year. But it is now raining for the forth time this year in Kérou. And there have been many, many days where there have been very threatening clouds, but the rain has only fallen in towns south or west of us.

I will curse the rain every time I travel; the roads will be even worse than they are now. But hopefully I won’t be doing too much of that. Otherwise it’s great, mostly because I can start using rainwater. At the moment the water that comes off my roof is still a little too dirty for general use; but I soak my dirty pots in it to make them easier to clean, and stuff like that. During the rainy season, Anna says she will even drink the rain water, because the roofs have water fall on them almost every day, so there is no time for them to get dirty!

In general, the rain feels wonderful. It beats against my metal roof with this awesome rhythm; I can go out back of my house and just let it wash over my hot body; and in general it cools everything down. So yay rain. Except when I’m not already in my house. I really wonder what kind of work I’ll get done during the rainy season. I remember during post visit, I didn’t end up doing half the things Hubert and I scheduled due to the rain. On the other hand, one time I got stuck with Amina at her shop, and were it not for the fact that my Giardia decided to kick in at that moment (yay fever and running through the rain to the latrine), I’m sure we would have had a lovely time just sitting around talking over the pounding rain.

Anyway, Sunday I met again with the vet, Romeo, who is helping me with the chicken project. Apparently I misunderstood his plan the last time, and in fact there is only going to be two groups of chickens that rotate. And they’ll only overlap for 6 months: this is the 6 months of chicks growing to adults, when they have yet to lay eggs. Then, once the 6 months is up, he wants me just to kill all the old chickens at once (New movie idea: The Chicken Massacre) and store them in a freezer somewhere. This is so we don’t have to keep feeding them, etc, while waiting for people to buy them one by one. Oh, because he assumed, obviously, I’d be renting a boutique in Kérou, equipped with a huge freezer, and probably a generator so the chickens don’t go bad when the electricity is cut. WHY DOES THIS MAN KEEP GROWING MY PROJECT OUT OF CONTROL???

Monday I went to Kongorou, and met with the group there again. I told them about the 500 chickens and they seemed on board with it. Though, they were a little worried about the costs this will incur, and where they will get the money. Yesterday I found out that the Food Security grants only go up to $2,500, sometimes more for larger projects (the other chicken-raising project cost $4,000). My building alone would cost $5,000. Plus, the thing is, for grants the community must contribute at least 25% of the total costs of the project. Now, that can be “in-kind” donations, such as if they mayor just gives away the land, instead of making us pay for it. Or if a mason and/or carpenter does some of the job for free. Or, if instead of making this with cement which costs about 40 cents (per brick) to buy then have someone make them into bricks, I build it essentially with mud bricks, which cost 5 cents each, already made. Or I could just make it less chickens, but that wouldn’t really address the problem I want to. I’m also thinking of maybe taking the smaller grant, and building the smaller project, but with the goal to take most of the profits to expand the project. The problem with that, however, is that it seems that at this point, a lot of the Food Security funds are used up, so I may not be able to get it until December, which would not leave me enough time then to help them expand. So, the point is I have a lot of reflection and maneuvering and searching to do right now. What to do, what to do? In the mean time, however, the group has decided to start collecting weekly savings towards this project and their input. I want to set up a system to encourage everyone to actually contribute, which would essentially make it like they are buying shares. I’ll have to figure out how that will work, but at least at this point we have plenty of time to smooth out the details before we start, since I have to wait. And regardless of funding, if we are using mud bricks, then that means I have to wait until the dry season (it’s almost over now), around November.

Monday evening I went with Hubert to Fétékou. There is this NGO—FAFA—that has apparently given a lot of money to Fétékou and Gouginnou to help with their gardens. Now they want to use these groups to do a “test-run” of a tool they developed. It is essentially a notebook that records every input and output these women have, even including if they had a family member work for free. But they also want really accurate measurements to come by. So we have to do things like measure how much it is when they say “a pile” or “a basin”, etc. Hubert was there to measure out the exact size of the land of a particular woman’s plot. The NGO had given him a GPS thing, but of course technology never actually works in this country, and especially in the hands of someone who doesn’t even understand the concept of email. So it was unsuccessful. I did promise to try to figure out the tool, but we’ll see.

This is how women water their gardens

Sunset

Tuesday I went to Fétékou again, this time with Pierre, to start collecting savings for the women. Of course, no one is prepared for us, so we go to the main area first to talk to the women. Some of them bring out their savings right then, and we continue on to the garden where some of the other women are. The unfortunate thing, however, is that Hubert informed me just the night before that I had to go and meet with a guy at the mayor’s office about Pierre’s salary and my electricity. This guy is leaving in the afternoon, so we are really rushed and didn’t get to do anything like I planned. I wanted to give a little presentation, etc. But instead we just went around to each woman individually and asked if they had something they wanted to contribute at that moment. Then we rushed back to Kérou. We met with Florent, the guy in charge of financial things at the mayor’s office, who said he would send a check right over to the CLCAM, which is the closest thing to a bank that we have. Then he told me that he had never in his life heard about this thing that Hubert has worked out with my landlord for my electricity. And then I almost went to Natitangou, found Hubert, and strangled him. I hate how he just LIES SO MUCH and I really don’t know what’s actually going on with my life there, etc. Sigh. One day. One day I everything will work out for me.

Today I just did a bunch of house things, including going and getting water. Always such work! But as it has been raining the past few days, there were actually a lot less people at the pump, so it meant much less waiting. I was very happy about that! Did some cleaning, cooking, etc. Hung out with my neighbors. And so on. Not too busy of a day, it’s good to have those.

Monday, 15 April 2013

So I am currently in Porto-Novo for my second In-Service Training. These never seem too productive, but hopefully this one will be, as we have more choices in the sessions we go to, and thus will hopefully be more applicable and worthwhile.

The past week or so was pretty good as well. Maria and I hung out Thursday and had a nice homemade dinner together. I cook a lot here, but it’s never as much fun to cook for just myself. She brought some eggplant and avocados from Nati, so we made a sort of guacamole-ish thing (but without limes, because we couldn’t find those). Then we made stuffed eggplant in my dutch oven, which was incredible. Ground meet isn’t a thing here, but instead we used Soy Cheese. It’s basically like tofu, and a huge thing here. Traditionally the Peul, who mainly heard cattle make this cheese called Wagasi, which I hate. It’s made with some sort of bamboo-ish plant that makes the milk stick together, and I think it tastes like rubber. But a cheaper (and healthier!) version is with soy. I, personally, also think it tastes tons better. Although, most of the time it’s fried, so I don’t know if that takes away a lot from the health bonus. But we crumbled it up, and it made a nice substitute for the ground meet part. We were pretty impressed with ourselves, and spent the rest of the night just chilling, listening to music, drinking, and so on. We planned to go to this dance place that is right beside my house. It is supposed to be open on market days, but apparently not this day. Oh well.

Friday morning I went again to Ben Club, where everyone there just spent a lot of time yelling at each other. Of course, I didn’t actually know what was going on, and everyone was too busy yelling to translate for me. I guess I shall have to go around and get everyone’s side of the story later. I did go to one person’s shop afterwards; he is the one that has been appointed to fill out the new accounting booklet I have made for them. When I explained it thoroughly to him, he was actually really impressed, saying, “Wow, you really thought of everything!” I think, per usual, my ability really lies in the one-on-one times. Nobody seems to want to ask for my advice—or listen to it—in a big group, but when I have the chance to sit down and talk things out, I manage to do a lot better of a job communicating what I know and how I can help.

Sunday night was interesting. I had my meeting with the Masons, and Maria had offered to come and do a health training. She has a team called “Amour et Vie” (Love and Life), which is a Populations Services International (PSI) project that they do with Peace Corps. Essentially, each health volunteer picks two students in their local high school, who then went to a training. Then they go out into the community and teach people about different health issues. For the masons, they did a training on Sexually Transmitted Diseases. It was kind of awkward when they had this flip book which contains some up-close images of basically infected penises and vaginas. But the masons did participate, respond to questions, help demonstrate the proper way to put a condom on (using a wooden penis prop), and asked questions of their own. But still; awkwardness!

Monday we went again to Kérou-Wirou to meet with the gardening group. These things always take so long; but in the end we were able to collect the weekly cotisations, plus conclude that the notebook we’ve been keeping had the same amount that the treasurer was keeping as the group’s fund, so that was good! We were supposed to go to Gouignou, but Hubert calls and informs us that instead we have to come to the mayor’s office NOW so that we can meet with Florent and finally, officially get the money to pay Pierre’s second part of his salary. It was such a long ordeal, having to go and deposit the money in one account, then write out this long official paper saying how much we were taking out and why. Then, of course, we are not on time to do all of this, and the CLCAM has to close, so we have to wait until after lunch. There was also this ordeal that the amount written on the paper was wrong, so we had to re-write it.

Pierre started hypothesizing that Hubert actually wrote the wrong amount on purpose, so that he could just pocket the difference. I thought this was a little too conspiracy-theory. However, later Anna and I found out that some of women who are the leadership in the Gardening Group Union believe that Hubert has embezzled over $1,400. I don’t know how or why, but they were going to the Mayor herself that evening to talk to her about it.

I really don’t like Hubert. It’s amazing, he is such a smooth talker. When he talks to you, he makes you feel like you’re his best friend and that he is going to move mountains to get what you want. The problem is, however, that he is a pathological liar, and I hate liars. He is someone that if you asked him what color the sky is, he would tell you green, just because he can’t NOT lie. Anna said she has also heard that he once told women that received free wells from the mayor that they actually had to collect together $90, and then hypothetically pocketed the money. I have no way of knowing if this is actually true, but at this point, I could absolutely believe it. Unfortunately, I don’t actually speak the language, and so most of information comes from one source, Pierre. But I really doubt he would make things up, no matter how much he hates Pierre. Plus I really judge people by what others think of them. And even my neighbor used to work for Hubert mentioned to me how much of a liar he is, and how terrible of a person he is. If anyone who has ever worked intimately with him (at least in an inferior position) hates him, I’m pretty sure that makes him a bad person. Because you can ass-kiss your bosses and equals, but what makes you a decent human being is treating the people under you well. But the problem is at this point the mayor seems absolutely blind to his faults, plus he always acts like her little pet, running errands for her, etc. So I really doubt that she will take any serious action. Even though as a politician she should probably distance herself from a person accused of stealing money from some of the poorest people in this entire country (the gardening women).

On another note, I have learned that Kérou is actually where they send people as punishment. For example, one person working in Maria’s health center used to work in Nati, but stole mosquito nets and sold them on the DL. His punishment was not getting fired, not being sent to jail, but being sent to Kerou. And so now Anna and I have this theory, knowing that Hubert used to work at this really good job in a big city, Djougou. He always makes it sound like he moved back to Kerou to be with his family, but we kind of believe now that he was probably caught stealing, and was thus punished by being sent here.

It just makes me hope that I wasn’t sent here as punishment! Haha. But I keep telling myself that Peace Corps thought I could handle the hardship, and that’s why they gave me this assignment. Yeah, I’ll stick with that.

Anyway, Tuesday I went to Fetekou to do the savings thing again. This time we went later, and were less rushed. I was really excited, because I prepared this presentation for the women. I used the “accounting for illiterates” symbols, which are different colored squares & circles to represent each piece of money. Then I showed them how much they would have in total if they saved different amounts per week. I also showed them expenses that are incurred when taking out credit, such as the interest, the cost of taking a Zemi every month to the CLCAM, the cost of a late payment, etc. So I concluded by saying that I really recommend that they SAVE SAVE SAVE rather than planning to take out loans. But I tried to really emphasize that I am not telling them what to do exactly. I’m just giving them information, my recommendations, and they can make their own decisions based on their own personal needs. I hope it was useful to them.

I then spent a lot of time explaining the notebook that the NGO FAFA wants them to do. Honestly, this should have been a process that took multiple days/sessions/weeks, whatever, but because they gave it to us so far into the gardening season, and wanted us to start immediately, we had to cram it all in to one time. I’m not sure if two of the women actually got it (there are 3 total doing it), but we tried. This notebook is just for the women to make notes and help them remember, and we will come back every week to fill in a notebook that is actually literate. Their book will just have drawings/symbols, tallies, and Anna and I’s money system. So yeah. This will be an interesting experiment.

Friday I went to Ben Club and made them listen to me. I showed them the accounting book I set up, then I had a big poster where I explained basically their totals (for weekly savings, expenses, loans, etc), explained how they were running on a deficit, and so on. I hope they were disturbed by that fact, but we’ll have to see where we go from there. After that, I sat down again with the person who will be in charge of the accounting, and had him enter in all of the savings as people paid this week.

Luckily I was paying attention, because when one person came up, I saw that their numbers didn’t match up. When I questioned him, he told me that he had paid for something out of his own pocket for the group, so instead of Ben Club reimbursing him, they just counted four weeks of his savings paid. I sighed, and patiently explained that you can’t just do that, then showed the treasurer how to go through and enter his extra savings, then go to the expenses section, and enter the amount there as well. He says something in Bariba containing the French word for “accounting”, and I laughed because even though I can’t understand Bariba, I knew exactly what he was saying, which was “Wow, accounting is really complicated!”

After this I jumped in a ride, and headed to Nati, then to Porto, where I am now.

View from Hotel in Songhai

Friday, 3 May 2013

Okay, so not really much to report on. I had my Peace Corps training in Porto Novo. Pierre was there as my counterpart, and was really excited about everything. This time it was a little better because we got to choose more of our own activities. I also got out of one of my sector’s sessions to go and sit in with the sector talking about animal-raising, specifically chickens. I learned a little bit more; still trying to piece this together. I went to Cotonou the weekend after, for a little partying time (I had been in my post for almost 2 whole consecutive months). Of course, after bragging about my lengthy stay in post, I get sick again, so I ended up having to stay an extra week in Cotonou. But I think that is a record, getting out in only one week!!! Now I am in Nati, and trying to do some research on my chicken-raising project still. I went around looking at prices of supplies. Then I also went to talk to someone at the agricultural school here. They showed me their own chicken-raising operation, but I found that I will basically still have to get almost everything in Cotonou, such as the chicks, the feeders and water-holders, any pre-mixed feed, etc. But the one professor promised to write out a whole form detailing the space I should build for the chickens, the vaccinations, the exact feed ratios, etc. So I am really, really excited about that. Now I am just waiting for him to finish that, and doing some more research, then finally heading back to Kérou. 

Everything Galore

Friday, 15 March 2013

Today, as I dumped a bucket of water over my head—fully clothed—I made a promise to never, never, ever again complain about cold…water.

Haha, family, you thought I was going to say cold weather. No, I haven’t reached that point. But, if for the rest of my life, all that was available was cold water; that would be perfectly fine—if it started now. Oh, if I could just have cold water to drink at my house every day. if they water I just dumped on myself was actually cold… I really am at the point where I would take cold showers for the rest of my life, if only my fridge could start making ice RIGHT NOW.

On the other hand, this is the very first time in my life when I’ve actually liked showers. I’ve always complained that they take too much time (it’s such a process, especially if you have long hair!) I know plenty of people love it, but I don’t. I’m not going to lie, there have been many mornings that I have lain in bed, warm under the comforter, not wanting to get out and I start reasoning with myself, “well you know, I took a shower yesterday, and all I did was sit around at school…it’s fine. I’ll just take a shower when I get home.” But here, in Chaleur, as I toss and turn all night, I actually count down the hours until I can get up and take a glorious shower to wash off all the sweat that is covering my body.

I tried something the other day that I had used on my campers back when I was a Summer Camp Counselor. They were complaining about the heat, they couldn’t sleep, etc. So I told them to lie quietly. Then picture that they are at the edge of a great big lake filled with ice-cold water. They put their toe in, and their toe is now cold. They walk in, and now their feet are cold; their calves, their thighs, and so on. But this time, when I got to the stomach, I stopped. I remembered something vaguely from another life, that often times, it’s really shockingly cold when the water hits your stomach. A lot of people stay at that point for ages, not wanting to go on due to the unpleasant sensation. I realized, however, that I don’t actually remember what that feels like; for water to be so cold that I am hesitant for it to touch my body. I could imagine no such thing.

Maria had a dream the other day that she met Yayi Boni (the current president of Benin). He told her that he would giver her anything at all that she asked for. She asked for a bath. When she was retelling this dream the next day, she of course said this was stupid. She could ask for a helicopter to fly us out of Kérou, or at the very least paved roads. Or RUNNING WATER for the house, so she could take baths whenever she chose. But the funniest part about all this was that we were sitting with Pierre, and he is confused by the concept of a bath. He asks what it is. So we have to start explaining. “Well, in America we have SO MUCH water that just magically appears INSIDE our house [meaning no long treks to get it] that we have huge basins, big enough in which to fit our whole body, which we fill with water, and then wash our dirty selves in it, then let all the water go out like waste. This is of course, right next to the apparatus which—again because we have so much labor-free water—holds perfectly clean water, which we then shit in, and send all that magically away from our house as well.”

Okay, so that’s not actually how we explained it to Pierre. But as we were reflecting on it, those ideas both seemed absolutely absurd, after having experienced life here.

Then I feel kind of bad complaining about my lack of electricity, especially knowing the way so many people live here. It’s absurd, really, that I find it absolutely necessary to my survival to drink water that is cold, when some people are hard-pressed to find water at all. On the other hand, it is my firm belief that even if someone has it worse, you still have what you have. It’s still hard for you. Plus I might not mind as much, if I had gone into the whole situation not expecting electricity ever. But all I’m asking for enough power for a mini fridge and a lightbulb, plus my fan which—THANK GOD—still works. It’s been a continuous drama, and I am really, really tired of relating it all here and elsewhere. It’s so frustrating that it’s taken so long. Although I must say that its probably better than being in a house (like Anna) where the electric company keeps saying that they’re going to attach it, just wait a little longer. It’s been a year.

Okay, but I probably should stop talking about my little problems. Lets move onto Pierre, who has suffered a lot his entire life. Yet he never complains about it. It’s absolutely amazing. I really should try to be more like him.

We were talking about children and school the other day, and so Pierre told me this from his childhood. Apparently his father was the poorest man in his town. Pierre had to walk 2 km to school every day—without shoes and without a uniform because his family couldn’t afford those. Some days his father would give him 10 francs (about 2 cents) for lunch. During the break, he would hike all the way out to the fields to get lunch with the workers there. When he had to go to school in Kérou, he lived with a relative or something here, but would borrow a friend’s bike everyday to go the 8 km back to Kongourou, then further out to the fields to eat.

He truly amazes me that he at all made it through school to begin with, but how far he has come since then. Once he had some money, he built a house for his parents and adult brother, who had previously been sleeping in the same room somewhere. This meant that he has not been able to build the own house that he wants to in Kérou center. Pierre really grinds every day. He takes on whatever odd jobs he can. He somehow acquired the apparatus which grinds corn into flour, so he can charge people for that. He also has a (very old) camera, and uses it to take pictures of people at parties, kind of the same way couples take pictures on their way into prom. He has a garden, and also works in the field. He still finds time to help Anna and I, plus support his parents, plus brother who can’t seem to figure out how to grind as hard.

Anna and I finally managed to get him paid, although it was such an arduous process. Hubert had promised that Pierre would be paid in January, with a back-pay of 3 months (for October, November, and December). Of course, it is the beginning of March before we actually manage to sit Hubert down to get him to write out the paper needed to take the money out of the account. We are there on Thursday evening, so we calculate the 3 months, plus 40% of Pierre’s annual salary (His contract is set up so he gets paid 40% in January, 40% in June, and 20% in December). But by the time we finish, the bank has closed. So we come in the next morning and suddenly Hubert says, “Oh, we can’t pay him that amount. His contract is only for a year, so I can’t pay him the back pay.” Anna and I are of course enraged, but we manage to work out that it will be as though the contract started in October. So Pierre will get paid 40% now (for “October”), then another 40% at the end of this month (for “June”). So it seems to kind of be working out, although I do know that the exact same problem will occur next year. Or really anytime we try to take money from Hubert’s grummy little hands.

Then, about a week ago, a lady from the Brignimaro gardening group, A GROUP WHICH PIERRE AND ANNA HELP OUT A LOT, come to Hubert and tells him that he must fire Pierre. Why? Because he happens to have an uncle who is running for mayor. Thus, it is obvious that Pierre will vote against the CURRENT mayor, who gives the gardening groups a lot of gifts (and who Hubert pretends was the person that actually got Berekoussou—another village—their well, when it was actually Anna, Peace Corps, and USAID).

And that was the moment I almost lost hope for this country to ever, ever progress. It’s so enraging to think that someone who does a absolutely wonderful, fabulous job, and who helps volunteers WHO CAME TO YOUR STUPID COUNTRY TO HELP YOU, should be punished just because he happens to be related to a politician, who might replace the mayor that you support because she gives you presents. I wanted to slap that woman. But she is just a representation for a lot of the political culture that exists here. It’s all about gifts and allegiance, with a lot of corruption.

But Pierre hasn’t been fired (yet). Anna and I are still crossing our fingers that he gets the second part of his pay. We’ll see how it works out.

Bu in case you were wondering, my birthday yesterday was quite fabulous. I had a relaxing morning: made myself some starbucks coffee, sat around and took my time drinking it; perused the internet; and so on. For lunch, I met with Maria, who was actually a good sport. She was feeling ill but had to journey that day, yet she still made sure I got to celebrate my birthday lunch. After that, I went by Amina’s house (that is the hairdresser). I had to drop of Maria’s key so that her neighbors could feed her cat, and Amina lives close by.

Amina continues to convince me that she is the coolest person in this country. Her mom is pretty great too. Her mom was mostly educated by French and American nuns, so she really knows a lot about American history, and so on. Plus Amina herself is well-read, so we can have really deep conversations. It was interesting, someone there asked me what my native language was, and I said English. They were like, no, no, before that, what is your first language? I explained that it was English; because, see, in America, instead of letting the native inhabitants live (like in Africa), we actually slaughtered almost all of them, and then pushed the rest to terrible pieces of land. Amina thoughtfully said, “It kind of sounds like what people do with the Peul here.” (She is Peul). The Peul are herders that exist actually all across West Africa (my Senegalese host brother was actually part Peul). Here in Benin, they tend to be viewed as outsiders and might even suffer persecution. Just across the border, in Northern Togo, there are actually refugee camps for Peul who have had their houses/villages burned by local Togolese. I’ve never personally seen it, but Anna says when Peul come into her village, they will have to endure shouting and the like. The government tends to push them off their lands. In Fétékou, the gardening group wants a new parcel for their garden; land currently farmed by Peul during the wet season, but Hubert claims they have no actual right to the land. It kind of seems like 1800-talk to me, though. Just because the Peul didn’t think to get a written document as they wander across the continent in search of grazing land, occasionally settling in villages, maybe even farming.

We entertained plenty of other topics regarding American and Beninese history, we talked even about how people in France/America are allowed to wear—*gasp*—bikinis. We talked about fishing, which apparently Amina has actually done. Her brother married a French woman, who likes to take a weekend to go fishing in one of the lakes in the south of Benin. I really have no idea how Amina is here, in Kérou; she is so worldly! But I am really glad she is.

Anyway, after just chilling at her house, and talking, she said that we needed to go to the bar, so we headed there. She picked up a friend of hers who has a buvette actually close to Amina’s house. Her friend is about 27 (Amina is mid-30s). Both of them drank with me, and we ordered a dinner of abloo, which is kind of like a moist white-corn-bread in cupcake shapes.

After that I took my bike home. I had no intention of being out so late, so I didn’t bring the flashlight-thing that I use as a headlamp. All I had was the flashlight on my phone, which wasn’t very bright. That + Alcohol à Shannon falling over on her bike. I wasn’t actually hurt; just my pride a little. Actually, me falling over has happened a little too frequently. But what am I to do? The roads leading to my house are all dirt; they are not lit; they have holes everywhere. Even when I do have my headlamp-thing, provided to me by Peace Corps, it doesn’t really show that far ahead, meaning I have to already know the route really well. Then the side lighting is negligible, so I am constantly swerving my tires back and forth to see if I can glimpse where I can turn. Then when I do find the turn, I have to swerve into it, hoping I’ve remembered if there are ditches there. So it’s always all kinds of perilous.

I would also like to say THANK YOU to everyone who wished me a Happy Birthday. I got tons of emails, all which made me smile! And I'm sure there are cards waiting for me at the Natitangou workstation when I go there, which will make me feel like it's my special day all over again.

Sunday, 17 March 2013

As much as I love my two post-mates, Anna and Maria (Thomas has left us for medical reasons, and gone home to France), I must admit that I enjoyed this past weekend without them here. I really resent Peace Corps; I never wanted to live with Americans. Yet they put me with 3 other volunteers. But this past weekend was a Peace Corps-wide event. I could have gone, but have decided to treat this time as though it were my “integration period” meaning no leaving post. I was supposed to do that originally, but a certain moto accident stopped that. This weekend was nice, however. Anna left Wednesday, then Maria Thursday afternoon. As I mentioned before, I had dinner and drinks with Amina. Then Friday, I went to the Ben Club meeting.

I’ve mentioned before wanting to get the accounting done by Ben Club to be a lot more in shape. So far, however, there hasn’t been much interest. However, recently, some books containing information on the savings by members was lost, so now the need for a better system has come up. This is where I come in. I was like, “Well, I’ve been trying to do this for a while now…” So it has been planned that next Friday I will get together with all the individuals responsible for secretarial/treasurer things, and we will figure this all out. I am really happy!

I spent the rest of Friday being too sick to leave my house (okay, a not-so-good part of my weekend), so I just worked on preparing the book we will use for accounting. Then there was also a presentation on Feasibility Study I am doing with the group I am working with at Kongourou for the possible chicken-raising project.

Saturday I mostly just stayed in my house and recovered. Then Saturday I met with Edouard (Ben Club) who was delighted with the progress I had made with the accounting book.

Sunday, I got up early and rode my bike to Kongourou, which is 8 km south of Kérou, 1 km before Brignimaro, where Anna lives. I feel like I really should have been prepared for this, what with all the biking my family and I did when I was young. Or that I rode my bike to class all the time in Charleston and Oklahoma. But in all of those cases, my terrain was always flat. Ironically, Oklahoma was actually the place with the most hills. In Maryland, we always rode along the C&O Canal, then of course the actual city of Charleston is flat, having been built on a former swamp in between two rivers. Here, though, of course it is the hot season, and the 8 short kilometers had a slight incline for the majority of the trip there, which almost killed me (although, happily, my hotter time on the way back was much easier!) When I got back to Kéro-Wirou, which is Maria’s neighborhood, slightly south of Kérou I stopped at a buvette there which had cold water and ice, and drank so much cold water and it just felt so good! I felt really good about it all though. It felt nice to get out of Kérou, and the ride wasn’t that bad really (though my leg muscles would beg to differ).

Plus, at Kongourou, I felt pretty good about the session I had. We are just discussing the chicken-raising, but I am trying to push the group there to think about all the expenses, and so on. I really want this to be something that they work for. Unfortunately, though, I feel like we are really flying blind. I wrote down issues that came up, and this week I have to go and talk to people—such as a mason I know about how much cement we will actually need to build the structure we want. It’s coming along though.

Saturday, 23 March 2013

So this week I feel like I’ve managed to pack in a lot, although all that really means is that I had something to do each day for maybe an hour or two. But, you know, Peace Corps life.

Monday we met with the gardening group at Kérou-Wirou, and Maria came along, so she could offer health trainings for the women, if they wanted it. The two of us arrived on time, but of course the meeting didn’t start until a hour later. We didn’t even collect the weekly fees, because there was a problem in the group. Apparently they had paid someone to make the rows in the garden, but he didn’t finish them all in a timely manner, so some women had to do it themselves. So they were angry that their collective money had not helped them personally. They complained about it for a while, then we just so happened to see this man across the street. Pierre called him over, and sat him down, then we talked about this issue. Anna and I proposed that he return the money for the work he had not actually done. He immediately agreed. We were kind of shocked by this, because we thought this would turn into a whole big deal. But then it turned out that the President of the gardening group did not want him to return the money, which made absolutely no sense. She claimed that this would ruin relations with this man, and he would never help them again. But he was sitting right there, saying it was perfectly fine! Apparently there were also some sort of hidden politics which Anna and I were not aware, as well. But ultimately, Pierre just told the President that the two white girls were adamant that the man be allowed to return the money, and being outvoted by her own group as well, she agreed. But what a bizarre situation!

Hubert claims that she and her husband sometimes try to run games with money. For example, if they are feeding someone who is working for the gardening group, they will say that it cost them an outrageous amount of money, and take that from the collection. So I don’t know if there was some sort of scheme involved, or if she was just mad that things had worked out against her direction. Who knows?

That afternoon I brought Anna to meet the guys who have a garden in an area that is a swamp during wet season. I think I have mentioned them before. Hubert introduced me a while ago. They are very fun to go and talk to, and have been educating me about gardening. However, they mentioned having insect problems, but being reluctant to use chemicals, because many people here don’t properly wash their vegetables. I thought of Anna’s training in making insecticide from Neem trees, which are common here. So it would be natural. They seemed very excited about this idea!

Three brothers with their garden!

Tuesday morning I went to Pikiré, which is a town southeast of Kérou. Hubert had told me to go, even though I don’t currently work with this group (and can’t because it isn’t in Pierre’s gas budget to work with them.) I was supposed to meet him early that morning, but as I got there, he comes out of the mayor’s house and says he must go immediately to Natitangou, to drop off a check so that the mayor’s office can have money for their operations the following month, or something like that. These are the things that blow my mind. Like, why didn’t anyone think of this before? There are plenty of people that journey from Kérou to Nati every week, why couldn’t anyone just think, ‘oh, since so-and-so is going now, he should take the check’? But no, it’s left to the last minute, ‘oh Hubert, you must drop everything and go to Nati THIS moment. Hubert annoys me, but I also feel like he’s just treated like the mayor’s errand boy, and must drop everything whenever she asks. On the other hand, I also feel like this makes him feel important. So maybe it works out.

So anyway, Hubert can’t take me, but he introduces me to this other guy, Adam, who explained—I think—that he used to work for an NGO, but the contract is finished, so he’s just kind of fishing around for work? I don’t know what that means, but I’ll go with it. Anyway, we went to Pikiré, and when we get there, he says, “So, what are you going to talk about?” I just give him a blank stare. Hubert never informed me of why I am going to Pikiré, etc. Or that I should prepare anything (and I really don’t have anything to talk about. Like I mentioned, I don’t actually work with this group). But apparently at Pikiré Adam’s only program was to inform the groupement that we would be returning Friday. Then we continued on to a village further along, called Yananu.

After we arrived, and while we were waiting for everyone to gather, I asked Adam about exactly what he does. He said that he gives advice to groupements. The example he gave was that a lot of women don’t have watering cans. They just take these basins that they carry on their head, then when they get to their plants, they put the basins at waist level, then scoop one hand in, and kind of fling the water out like a very inefficient sprinkler. So Adam says that he tells the women they need to buy watering cans, so their gardening will be more efficient. I am just sitting there, staring at him, like “Are you joking? Like the women don’t KNOW they need watering cans. I’m pretty sure they are well aware of that. They would love to have watering cans. Hell, they would love to have a full-blown irrigation system. I’m pretty sure what’s stopping them is the lack of funds, not the lack of awareness.” So I asked him if he had any programs to help the women get watering cans, whether at reduced prices, or at least help them save for it. He replies no, he just gives advice. And some people—he points out—follow his advice, and their gardens improve. But other people don’t listen to him, and that’s why they don’t do better.

So, officially, I think Adam is the worst development worker I have met so far. I cannot understand his philosophy, or how he thinks he’s helping people. The reality often is that people know the agricultural part. They have done it their entire life. Maybe they just don’t know how to organize to get better products, and also to come together and share ideas, etc. For example, if one person figures a better way to grow something, they should be able to teach others. Development work should be giving the people the tools to change their own lives. Not saying, “You need to buy a watering can.” But instead asking, “How do you think you can get that watering can? Let’s figure out a program to get you there.”

Also, Adam rambles on. I think actually, I present the same flaws, that I take way to long to explain things. But I’ve been trying when speaking in front of these groups to cut it down, short and simple, straight to the point. But Adam probably talked for an hour, and I could definitely see the women phasing out. And amusingly, in the end they didn’t care about really anything that he said, but when they heard that I worked with microfinance things, they suddenly wanted to talk about how there was this project that came in and had started a small savings group. But then the person stopped coming, and the money is just sitting in a box in the town, and no one knows what to do with it. We talked about this for quite some time. Finally Adam and I were able to figure out the organization’s name, and promised to inquire about it. I later asked Hubert, who talked to the point person of this organization in Kérou. She said that she had tried for many weeks in a row to go, but the women always said they were busy, they couldn’t meet up, and that’s why she stopped coming. Just a typical experience. But Hubert has communicated to her that the women are now eager to try again, so I think she’s going to start going back.

I went back to Pikiré on Friday, this time again with Adam and Hubert as well. We went to the actual gardening site, where the women have not even started gardening! It is so late in the season. Apparently they have been held back because they were promised screening for a fence from the mayor’s office, but have yet to receive it. Also, there were fights over land distribution. For example, there is one man in the gardening group who has decided that having a penis entitles him to a larger share of the gardening site. When the women refused to give this to him, he chooses the row at the very end of the site. Then, in blatant disregard to the huge territory marker that is standing RIGHT THERE, he digs another row for himself outside of the gardening group’s site. It looks so ridiculous, since you can obviously see it’s not in bounds. Plus, the women point out that technically that marker shows where wet-season creek will come up to, so if they encompass his extra row with the fence, the fence will then get swept away when there is water.

So the gardening group has decided to kick him out, and Hubert supports them in this decision. But then they also had to go through and assign a row to each woman, which seems like a wholly unnecessary process. Can’t they just figure it out themselves. But then Adam wanted me to take a picture of him with the women so he could send a report. And my respect diminished for him even further, like “What are you going to write? I wrote women’s names beside a number for their gardening row???”

Women in Pikiré; one carrying firewood on her head

 I didn’t do much Wednesday; then Thursday I went to Fétékou. I would just like to say that their garden is absolutely incredible. I explained a while ago that their garden site is actually a lake during the wet season. I'd never gotten to see it before in full garden mode, but it was so cool. Obviously, the lake bottom is very uneven, so the garden goes up and down a lot, which amplifies the green effect.

The garden at Fétékou with some of the water still there at the deepest parts

A woman carrying water to her plot of the garden

Women harvesting the okra/gombo that is ready.

Anyway, this time it was with Hubert, plus Adam, as well as Salimatou, the women who works with Improved Cookstoves (these economize the amount of wood or charcoal used, are safer, etc. It is also what I bought a while ago for myself). Salimatou gave a presentation on these, complete with illustrated pictures to show the downfalls of traditional ways of cooking, and the awesomeness of the Improved Cookstoves.

When I presented myself, and started talking about wanting to help them organize weekly collections of money for the group, I was met with an onslaught of greif. Apparently the women have gathered money together twice before—once with a former volunteer. However, this volunteer never returned, so the money was just let sitting at the President’s house. And eventually it was spent, and thus the women’s money evaporated. Many women accuse various groupement members of “stealing”. This might be true, or the woman may have spent the money in good faith, thinking it was going to aid the whole gardening group. However, I doubt she ever consulted the rest of the group to come to a communal decision/approval. I mentioned trying to get a system set where the women could do it themselves. This is what I have been trying at other groupements, but I’m not sure I have the most confidence in it. The women don’t seem ready to jump on this record-keeping, plus thanks to Hubert’s restrictions, we can only go to these groups once every 3 weeks, which is pretty much as productive as never going at all.

Some older man spoke up, and I think essentially told the woman to stop attacking me (the white person). Did the white people steal from you??? NO!!!! It was amongst yourselves that the money was stolen/gone. I think he was trying to get them to think of the real culprits. But on the other hand, though the former volunteer (and whoever the other person was that encouraged them to collect money together) didn’t actually steal the money, they also gave them no tools to actually be able to decide on where to spend the money, or redistribute it at an appropriate time.

When we got back to Kérou, I discussed with Hubert what we should do with this situation. I suggested maybe getting a nice metal box with 3 locks that some programs in Benin use. This way the money can only be opened when the 3 chosen trustworthy women come together. Then have some sort of accounting-for-illiterates notebook to record every savings for each woman.

Hubert counters that someone could just pick up the box and run away. (Although honestly if they do, it’s not like they could ever get it open, short of throwing it off a mountain. Those things are strong!) He has been talking to the manager of the CLCAM (a national Savings & Loan Cooperative with a branch in Kérou), about encouraging a group of gardeners to start saving there. He is thinking about doing that with this group; Pierre and I could carry the money to the bank. So that is something we will work on.

Friday I had the Ben Club meeting, which was fine, except no one seems to understand what I’m doing. I don’t know how to say any clearer “I NEED EVERY TRANSACTION, I.E. EVERY LOAN GIVEN OUT, REPAID, EVERY EXPENSE, AND SO ON.” They just give me the books that record when every member gives their weekly dues/savings, and expect that to work. So I total it up, then look at the cash they have and tell them they are missing money. They start saying, “Oh no, what has happened to it?” etc. Finally, little by little I pry it out of them. “Oh yeah, remember how we gave $20 to that one guy when his dad died? But we will repay that when every gives $1 towards it.” (Although how $1 times 16 members equals $20 is beyond me). Then, “Oh yeah, remember how we gave out that loan to so-and-so?” Finally, we found (most of) the money, at least for this year. Now I have to go back and calculate the totals for the previous year, and I’m sure I’m going to run into a lot of the same problems. We’ll see how it goes.

Friday, 29 March 2013

And thus my projects have been amplified tremendously, and I haven’t decided if this were in a good or bad way.

Okay, Sunday, I went to the Mechanic’s meeting, who have finally started up again, and elected new leadership. I have promised to help them with by-laws and accounting, so that is par for the course.

Monday, I biked to Kongorou, and met with the potential chicken-raising group. Only one person showed up, which was sad. However, over the past week I had spent so much time drawing these elaborate to-scale models of possible chicken coops. I had spent a lot of time with a mason as well, calculating the ciment and bricks, screen, roofing, and so on. So damnit, I was going to share it with somebody. Also, hopefully the people who were there will talk to the others and say, “this girl really got her stuff together; you need to come next time!” Okay, but again, it was still normal. We talked about choosing between having 100 or 200 chickens, etc. Then I spent a lovely afternoon visiting Anna in her town, which is just south of Kongourou.

Action shot of me presenting to the Kongorou Group

Then Tuesday was when it all exploded out of control. Hubert informs me that I’m not going to have the gardening group open an account at the CLCAM, but in fact have every woman open her own individual account, so that next year they can get gobs of credit, or something like that. He also tells me that to open an account, each woman needs to pay $10, which I think is absolutely absurd, since we were only talking of trying to have them save a total of $24 in the first place. So I march right over to the CLCAM with Pierre, who is friends apparently with the manager. We sit down, and the manager explains that in fact, the $10 is what the women have to pay to buy a “share” of the co-op and then the minimum deposit. All that money is still their’s; they just can’t take it out until they close their account. On the other hand, there is a monthly fee for every account, which is 40 cents. That adds up to $4.80 per year. It’s still a lot to ask of women with minimal savings. But at least this sounds slightly more reasonable.

After this I meet with a vetrinarian about my possible chicken-raising project. We talk of where I can get chickens, chicken feed, and vaccinations. I inform him I’m looking at starting with 100-200 chickens. “That is not enough!” he proclaims, then explains to me that vaccinations come in quantities of 1,000, so in order to not have a loss, you must have at least 500 chickens. Oh, and also, since there would always be a 6 month period between getting chickens and when they start laying eggs, I need to have multiple rotations of chickens (obviously at 500 chickens each round). This would mean eventually having between 1200 and 1500 chickens at once. HOW DID MY 100 CHICKENS BECOME 1500????? I have no idea! I tried to get him to slow down with this, but he keeps rolling along. This would also mean that the housing unit would have to be somewhere in the vicinity of 20 feet wide and the length of half a football field. How did this happen?

In reflection, thinking about it, and asking around the current vendors of chicken eggs, there would actually be a market for the eggs, even in Kérou alone. It would be really awesome to see the prices of eggs drop dramatically, have them always available, and of course, get a (HUGE) income increase for the partners on this project. I’m just a little worried that it’s too much. And something that huge can also fail huge. But also Pierre was with me when I was talking with the Vetrinarian. Later, while we were at Fétékou--which had the original dry-season garden in Kérou country--we were watching people come from all over just to get their vegetables. Pierre comments, "You know, if everyone starts to know that it is Kongorou that you can get eggs, they will come and we will not even be able to produce enough to suffice!"

So anyway, I’ll have to think about what to do with that. Something like this would take on a lot more work and organization, but I’m sure that’s something I’d be good at. I also don’t know the other people in the group, except for Pierre, and given how they’re not really showing up to meetings at the moment…

I just don’t know what to do about this.

In other news, I went to Fétékou on Wednesday to tell them about this new, elaborate plan with them. The manager of the CLCAM came along with me and Pierre, so he was the one that really sold the idea. The women asked about the fees, and so on. He pointed out that the fees were for the security of their money. I mean, they’d already lost a lot of money point-blank in their previous attempts at saving. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to put money aside, pay a little bit, but know it would be available when they needed it?

Many of the women seem very excited about the idea. And in fact, I remember the very first time I ever visited Fétékou, they asked me how I could help them get loans. I guess this is it. Although I do have my reservations for getting these women hooked up to the world of credit. Even in the States, so many people don’t know how to do it right. Here you have the added problem of things like the women not even knowing how to write numbers, let along budget, etc. Plus there are cultural problems. The manager of the CLCAM gave the example of one woman who has gathered her money to go to the bank for her monthly payment. But then her husband barges in, and demands that she give the money to HIM instead, to spend it on who knows what. Thus she doesn’t make her payment, and is penalized.

Considering other options, though, I really think this is good. The women can deposit money safely. Plus, it means that they won’t be asked to give their savings away. If it is in the CLCAM, and their husband comes and demands it, she can just use the excuse that it’s not there. She would have to hire a moto to go all the way to Kérou, (and back) to take the money out. So it keeps the money a lot better.

I think if I’m going to help them do this, I am going to start each session with some sort informative lesson on money management, business strategies, or how to be careful with credit. Hopefully that will make even more of an impact.

So anyway, there you have it: you’re here trying to make a tiny difference, and all of the sudden a huge undertaking is demanded of you. Stay tuned for how I actually work this all out: whether I stay small, go huge and awesome or epically fail.

Thursday was my day off, which certainly didn’t mean relaxing. I went and got my weekly water. It actually worked out, timing-wise because it had rained the past few days (very weird for this time of the year), which meant that many women had water available from what they’d collected during the storms, or from their previously dried-up wells. Therefore, I didn’t not have a long wait (or sometimes any wait at all) each time I brought my container to fill up. Before, I might have to wait 20 or 30 minutes each time. I also did some washing and house cleaning, plus paperwork-ish things. Furthermore, my skin has decided it does not like this heat at all, and has developed a heat rash. I tried to ease this by sponging off my body occasionally, and by Friday it was looking better.

Heat rash on my chest

Friday was Ben Club again. It’s really very frustrating to go to all these meetings and not be able to understand anything. I ask people, and they don’t give me very good translations. Or this day, I was sitting beside a guy and asked him for a translation. He replies, “I can’t right now, I want to follow this conversation and not miss a thing.” Not 30 seconds later, his cell phone rings, so he leaves the meeting to go answer it. I hate cell phones and people’s relationship to them.

Anyway, I found out later that they were discussing whether Ben Club had a gain or loss. Which if someone HAD BOTHERED TO ASK THE GIRL THEY KNOW WAS PREPARING AN ACCOUNTING LEDGER FOR THEM, they could have found out right then and there. But no, why would they ask a silly woman a question about their group, or her thoughts/calculations on a matter? Then I also found out that one member wants the Secretary to add up the interest that Every. Single. Person. has paid over the past 3 years, so that it can be redistributed. He seems to be under the impression that when you pay interest on a loan, that money is actually ultimately for you. When I found that out, I just like, “OH HECK NO! That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!” But of course, this was long after the meeting before anyone bothered to explain it to me, so I was unable to set him straight right then and there. Next week I really want to make the effort to force people to stop and translate for me, and also help them understand. The main problem—or rather I should say the entire problem—of Ben Club is that it has no governing system. Meaning that people do whatever they decide by vote. These votes take place whenever a problem arrises. They don’t have set rules to follow. Then this is complicated by people maybe not exactly understanding how a Village Savings and Loan Association works, other than they pay money every week and can take loans. The rest of it seems to be a mystery. So they make decisions that are hazardous to the association. Such as paying out over $100 to the leadership, such as the president, secretary, treasurer, etc. No where in VSLA is this allowed for, yet they did it. And now, even were all the loans repaid, there would not be enough cash to give everyone back their money. This is a huge problem. This is compounded by the fact that there is not an overriding accounting system, just one guy with a notebook, and no accounting experience ever, except when beginning this group. I really want to help them, but as of yet, all of these artisan groups seem ultimately uneager to take my advice or aid. I will give it, and show them the raw numbers that I have deduced, plus the tools (aka accounting book) that I have concocted to help them move forward from here. I hope that by showing them that their money is not all there, they will be shocked enough to want to change, but not disheartened enough that they want to essentially do a run on the bank with this association. Because that would not end well. But ultimately they have to LET me help them with this in order for it to work.

Saturday, 30 March 2013

Today was an event to celebrate International Women’s Day (I know, technically it was 22 days ago, but hey, that’s Africa for ya. I didn’t really do much for it, because it was all just presentations in Bariba. Anna and I, however, went, wore dresses made of matching celebratory material, sat just beside the meeting hall and had a drink during the event, then came and danced for everyone when they started playing music (people stood up on chairs to watch the white girls dance, and of course I was mortified the whole time, but did it anyway), then we ate some food, and that was done. We did get some nice pictures, though, so here you go (YOU'RE WELCOME, GRANDMOTHERS. I KNOW THIS WILL MAKE YOU UBER-HAPPY :) :

Pierre, Anna, Me, and Salimatou (the women who works with Improved Cookstoves)

Anna, Hubert and I

Additionally, if you're interested, I have my furniture, and have been entertaining myself by painting a little color on. Here it is:

My bookcase beside the mattress I've turned into a sofa

My kitchen/work table & stools

So It Begins

Monday, 18 February 2013

Well, I have an announcement: I’m in Love. It hasn’t been a day, but I’ve already decided we’re going to move back to the States and make a wonderful life together. Oh, you want a photo? Here you go:

Meet Luna. I already gave you a photo before, but now she has officially moved into my house (one terrifying motorcycle ride stuck in a cement sack later). I chose her from among Thomas’ kittens thanks to the age-old test that my mom always insisted on. It is to take a kitten, and turn it over on its back. If it flails a lot, then it probably won’t be that chill. But if you flip it over, and it doesn’t struggle (but probably giving you this resigned why-are-you-doing-this-to-me look), it will be a cat with a chiller temperament.

I could tell almost immediately that she was the right choice. After getting over her initial terror of the zem ride and a new place, she settled into being a very cuddly, loving cat. She’s perfect for me, because she allows me to pick her up whenever, without much protest. My family will testify that I definitely need that in a pet. She even eats dry cat food, which I was worried about. A lot of animals here won’t because they aren’t used to it, so owners feed them things like fish and rice, etc. Dry cat food is easier because I don’t have to go out in get it every day. The only disadvantage is that I have to bring it all the way from Cotonou. Oh well. But it’s also perfect when she comes back to the States with me, she’s already accustomed to it.

Anyway, I like her too because she’s even more cuddly than cats I had before. Usually they might fall asleep with me (one cat, laying across your neck—not so comfortable for me), but they always get up and wander around after a few minutes. But Luna actually spent almost the whole night sleeping curled up on my back. Then I woke up to her this morning catching and graphically eating a baby lizard. It’s not the mouse I keep hearing in my ceiling, but it’s a step in the right direction.

But yeah, she’s cute and playful, loves hiding behind things, pressed up against the wall. She also just spent the last 15 minutes while I was typing this staring at my fingers as they moved, then occasionally leaping and trying to “catch”/bite them. Haha. I think my quality of life has improved simply by obtaining a pet (and, of course, no longer being stuck in the medical ward). The only real danger will be me wanting to play with my kitten all day, and not go out and do actual work.

Thursday, 21 February 2013

So a lot and nothing going on. I guess I shall start with the latest in my electricity saga. Sometimes I feel bad complaining about it, because I know that there are plenty of volunteers that don’t have it. But since I do have it, I just want it to work properly. So anyway, as you know the electricity was cut off for my whole neighborhood before I left for Cotonou the first time. When I came back (6 weeks later) it was still off. So Hubert had someone come and hook me up directly to the mayor’s office. Then finally, electricity came back for my neighbors around Christmas. I started noticing that since then that my electricity wasn’t as strong: the light in my main room wouldn’t work sometimes, etc. And at one point, my fridge just stopped working entirely, because it didn’t have a strong enough current. Then a day before I left for Cotonou the second time, the credit runs out for my neighbors, so they come to me, saying it’s time to pay for electricity (most people share one “counter” between a group of houses, and people rotate paying for the pre-paid electricity cards. But I told him, no I’m hooked up to the mayor’s office; not with them. But then after he leaves, I realized I must be hooked up with them, because my electricity is out too. So angrily, I call Hubert, and demand to know what is going on. He responds, “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?” because I was being kind of rude. But then he promises to call my landlord. Of course, I left, so nothing happened.

When I got back, I got the scoop: apparently, when the electricity was to be restored to the neighborhood, my landlord—without asking me or Hubert—actually just took the wire that was connecting me to the mayor’s office, and used it to connect the whole concession to the power lines again. Basically he stole the wiring that I HAD PAID FOR. Upon hearing this, I was irate, and told Hubert that I wanted to reconnected to the mayor’s office immediately. He asked who was going to pay for it, and I just looked at him and said, “Umm, my landlord will, because he was the one that stole this from me in the first place, I am not paying for something that he did wrong!”

So Hubert has been on his game, although it seems like my landlord keeps trying to hide out. I was supposed to meet him Tuesday, but he never showed up. Finally Hubert gets a hold of him, tells him how it’s going down, and my landlord has promised to have everything restored by tomorrow, at the latest. So I’m betting on a week. But at least it’s progressing, and hopefully this will be the last time I ever mention electricity in my entries.

I’m jumping right back into things. I talked to Hubert about the irrigation training. So he showed me some of the irrigation that is set up in his own garden, as well as some of the gardens of the Gardening Groups. We’ve talked about moving along with the Maison des Maraîchers that he wants. Although that, I’m putting mostly into his hands, to see if he really does progress with doing what I’ve recommended for starters.

Plus, the literacy lessons that I coordinated for the artisans in my community actually started a week before I got back, thanks to the help of Thomas, my fellow volunteer, and the motivation of Constant, the teacher who is leading these. So I was happy that one of my projects could actually progress even though I wasn’t there! Although there were some communication issues, and I don’t think that every artisan got word, so I’ve spent that past few days trying to go around and inform everyone. And this weekend, at the meetings, I will make sure every person knows. This will mean that some people might be behind, but it will work out. I might just have to set up some “review” sessions or whatever. But everyone seems really happy and excited about it, so I am really glad about that.

I also took some time to just walk around and talk with various artisans—at least the ones that I knew where their workshop is. I asked about their work, and so on. After one of the literacy classes, one of the artisans asked me to grab a cup of tea. We talked about how he was actually the first auto-mechanic in Kérou, about 15 years ago. I find that shocking! He also eventually started the first artisans club, and later helped people in other professions (carpenters, solders, etc) start their own associations. Now, however, his association is experiencing problems. When I attended the meetings back in September, they were complaining about how their president (which I now know to be this guy) never shows up, the association doesn’t work well, and so on. When I returned the groups was really struggling, and I heard there were many money issues, and no one wanted to come, etc. Now their president explained to me that he had just always been president—for the past 13 years—and when people had asked for different leadership, they had voted in a VP, he thought his duties should be eased, but no one seemed to want to actually pick up the slack. Then some members began accusing him of stealing money from the group, and thus stopped coming and paying their dues. The president claims that he was not stealing at all, that some of the money was used to pay for things like a recent training that came to Kérou, and the other mechanics have simply forgotten about them. This is entirely possible. I remember seeing one woman at the end of a Village Savings & Loan period, where the money is redistributed, thinking she should have more, but she didn’t. Hubert had to spend a lot of time sitting with her saying, “Hey remember the one time your kid was really sick, so you took $4 out of your savings? That’s why what you received was exactly $4 less than you had put in over the past year.” I’m not sure if she actually accepted what he said either, no matter how patiently he explained it.

However, the point of me being here isn’t to referee these groups, or have them sit down and hash out what went on in the past. I can only offer that if they want, I can help them set up a good accounting system, so if anyone has any questions, they can just look at one book. Or help them write down rules, so there’s a very straightforward way of running things. So I’ve offered this, and if they want to take me up on it, I’m here. But I know I can’t force anything if people don’t want to. I really want these groups to work, but I can’t make them meet or anything else.

Thursday, 28 February 2013

So once again, a lot and nothing has been going on. Actually, I’ve pretty much been doing the same thing as last week, which is wondering around, randomly talking to a few people. I just hope that this will eventually be productive.

In addition to the artisans, I went and visited a man who has a garden right behind the main market in Kérou. The plot of land is actually a swamp during the rainy season, but now it is garden-able.  The advantage is that I’m sure there were plenty of deposits from animals that made this place their home, thus making the soil rich. Plus, to get water, all he has to do is dig a hole a few feet into the ground, and Voilà! Water. Apparently he is from Ouaré, which is a village north of Kérou, but one I’ve never been to. He is really, really nice. Both Anna and Thomas already knew him. But what’s really awesome is that he grows wonderful veggies, like lettuce, cabbage, onions, carrots, tomatoes, and so on. Hubert had introduced us, and I went back just to chat. He showed me around the garden, and taught me about different gardening things, such as fertilizing, or pruning things so they’ll grow better. It was really great to get a better since of what it actually is to garden, since I’ve never done it, but I find myself working with gardening groups. I think he was also delighted to have a foreigner come talk with him, and he gave me two heads of cabbage, and 3 heads of lettuce to take home. Yum. It just feels so different to be able to take produce right from a garden.

I’m hoping to be able to visit more gardens in Kérou. Hubert keeps promising me that they exist, and that he’ll show me around, but so far has been MIA on that one.

Oh, and in other news, I may have been lied to about my electricity. Hubert’s electrician may have actually taken the concession’s wire to connect me to the mayor’s office originally, so they were just taking it back. Now I look like the asshole. But then I have no idea what I actually paid for when I was connected, other than the labor. Whatever. At least Hubert and the landlord (say they) are working it out. In the meantime, I have a fridge without sufficient power to run. Which means no keeping food for more than on meal. No cold things.

…which is just in time for Le Chaleur (The Heat). [Which, btw, is what I am referencing in the title]. It is just the beginning of the hot season, so it’s only 90 degrees or so. We still got 30 more degrees to go up before we reach the peak! Although it’s been humid the last few days, usually it’s very, very dry (I guess like what people from Arizona always talk about). My first few days back, I would go outside and instantly be parched. I’ve bought so many bottled waters. Partly so they would actually be cold, as my own fridge doesn’t work. I do also use the bottles to store water after I’ve boiled/filtered it, so I have plenty of reserves, and don’t have to boil water every day or so, but maybe once a week. But after I determined I had enough bottles, I switched to water sachets. They are basically plastic bags containing .5 liters of water. Plus, it is all treated water, so I can drink it! And although I feel terrible for using so much plastic and then throwing the plastic bags on the ground (I know, so bad, but there is no other option. No garbage collection, no recycling), it is way, way cheaper. A bottle of water containing 1.5 liters costs $1.20. On the other hand, each sachet costs 5 cents. So the 1.5 liters of water sachets is $ .15. That’s a huge difference. PLUS I can buy frozen water sachets for 10 cents. Oh my god, ice is the most wonderful thing ever. I’ve realized I’ve been so terribly spoiled by my life in the states. My family had a water cooler for most of the time growing up, so I always had cold water. Even now, when I was on my own, I bought a brita filter, not because I cared so much about the filtering, but because I wanted to be able to put the water in the fridge, and have it nice and cold. I really do feel blessed in Peace Corps to live in a village with electricity. Drinking warm water, especially when it’s already really hot outside, is terrible. Although it is funny, my carpenter was here, and I offered him some ice water, but he says it’s so cold that he can’t drink it. I guess it’s just what you get used to.

But water, water, water. That’s what it’s really all about. Every thing is dry now. There are a few green trees standing, but everything else is brown and mostly leafless. Even the bees have a hard time finding water. They cluster around the water pump, drinking up the precious spilled drops, and making my task of getting water a little hazardous. But as long as I move carefully, they always leave me alone. I look out my front door and see the water tower, and curse my landlord for not bringing running water to his properties. Actually, it’s not so bad, except for the days that I have to go and get water. I have space to keep 7 “bidons” worth of water. Bidons are basically yellow plastic containers that  hold 25 liters of water. Actually, most of them originally carry vegetable oil, and are then repurposed for the transport of water. So 7 trips to get water. Seven times of riding my bike (thankfully not very far at all), waiting in the sun until the people who were there before me are done pumping water into their various containers. Then setting my bidon under the pipe, then pumping my foot to get the water going. 80 pumps. I’ve counted. 20 with the right foot, 20 with the left, bounce back to the right for 20 more, and bounce to the final 20 with the left foot. Then I hoist my bidon and strap it to the back of my bike, then hurry home so there is a minimal amount of water lost. I lug the bidon into my house, back to where I store water, and dump it into my huge trashcan-looking container. Repeat.

That lasts me a little over a week. But I hate every time I use water, because I know I’m just that much closer to having to do this process. On the other hand, I have to use water so much more now. At night sometimes it is too hot to sleep, so I wake up in the middle of the night, get a pagne (that is basically a sheet of fabric, an armspan’s width, and the height of waist to ankles. That is what most women here use as skirts, but also to carry babies, and complete other tasks). I take this pagne, and dip it in water, wring it out, then wrap it around my body. Then I go and stand in front of my fan (provided the electricity is working). It is amazing how cool it feels. Then to sleep, I just lie down, and put this wet pagne over me like a sheet. It feels so cool. At least until it dries, and then I must wake up and repeat the cycle.

I know my family is probably reading this saying, well you wanted it to be hot! And honestly, I am perfectly content, especially after reading last month about snowstorms, that I am oh so happy to have avoided. And it’s not like I’m even wishing for air conditioning. My mom will tell you that she had to bribe me to turn the A/C on when she was in Oklahoma with me for a few days after dropping me off in the month of August. But then again, at least that house was majorly shaded by trees, which helps keeps things a little cooler. But I do, I love the feeling of a fan cooling me down (so thank, PC, again, for placing me with electricity). I enjoy never being cold. The only part that really bothers me about sweating is that it makes my clothes wet, then the dirt catches much more easily on them (especially when I am sitting), so I just always become awkwardly dirty.

Even people here, though, don’t seem to be adjusted to it. I joke that they have lived with this their whole life. I mean granted, I personally have lived with snow my whole life, and I hate it. But I can tolerate it better than other people. Or some people from Michigan might be so used to the cold, that they just wear shorts out into the tiny, more southerly snows. So why are all of my male neighbors suddenly shirtless, saying, “Oh, la chaleur!!!” On the other hand I’m not complaining at all, because a shirtless Beninese man, with his gorgeous biceps, toned pecs, and perfect abs… but I digress.

But as I’ve said in entries before, I think you need to know the realities of living here. People have to deal with this every year of their lives, this intense, inescapable heat. Imagine living in Kérou just 5 short years ago, with no electricity. No fans. No cold water. No ice. No cold beer or soda to refresh your life. There are still many villages here in Benin living like that too. I know that this experience is making me a million times more thankful for the small blessings in my stateside life. (Running water, most of all). On the other hand, I will miss not being expected to work at all between the hours of 12 and 3, because it’s too hot. Such a relaxing time in my day.

Finally, I will conclude with a story I am sure you will find amusing. The other day, I was in my second room, deciding on what to wear that day. Suddenly, this lizard scampers across my clothes rack, then falls to the ground. Startled, I run out into my hallway, forgetting the fact that I am buck naked (so much of my life now depends on how early in the day I can convince myself to put clothes on and actually go out and do something). Then, coming to my senses, I realize that my front door was actually wide open, but THANK GOODNESS none of my neighbors were with in range to see this crazy girl running around her house without clothes. So I dive into my bedroom, throw a pagne around me, then stand in the hall, looking at my clothes, and deciding which one I want to wear. Once I’ve decided, I creep in, grab said clothes, and sprint back out.

Now normally, I like lizards a lot better than mice. Mostly because at least they stick to the walls and ceiling, and thus I have no chance of stepping on them (my greatest fear re: mice). But I hate when somehow they end up on the floor, and scamper around, because then they might scamper across my foot, or under my step; I just don’t know. They’re also so dumb. Every time I enter a room, they go into a blind panic, running back and forth, forgetting the 10 exits that are available to them (as my ceiling is not flush with my wall; that’s how they always get in.)

So anyway, I’ve forgotten about this lizard, and mostly assumed that he exited sometime with the past few days. But then I am going through one of my suitcases, and he jumps off the lid of one, having been hid under the shorts I had put on top. Again, I run out of the room, then go grab Luna. I creep back into the room, pull out the suitcase behind which I know it’s hiding now, put Luna down so she definitely sees it, then book it out of the room again, and watch from the hallway. Luna gets into her pounce-ready stance, then lunges. There is a lot of scurrying, and some crunching, so I think she’s gotten it. But then she emerges with only part of the tail, which she promptly eats. Meanwhile, the lizard is still loose and alive, so once she is done, I grab her again, put her near the lizard, and pull on one of my suitcases where the lizard is hiding, exposing it. Then run out of the room. Luna keeps chasing the lizard. She puts her claws on it a few times, but to be fair this lizard is almost as big as she is! This goes on for a while, constantly involving me running in and exposing the lizard, then running back out. Finally, the lizard actually runs behind the huge box I am using as a shelf, which I can’t really move. Luna patiently waits a few minutes for it to emerge, but of course it does no such thing. She loses interest, so I am left with this stupid lizard…which is apparently unable to climb walls—or forgets that it can—in my house. I don’t think it’s leaving any time soon. Sigh. It was a good effort by Luna, but maybe next time it’ll be something more reasonably sized to go after.

Thursday, 7 March 2013

It seems as though it is Thursdays when I finally get a chance to write. Please, don’t take this as meaning that I actually am doing things the rest of the week. 50% of the time I am just lying around my house, to weak to move (Oh, La Chaleur!), 40% of the time, I am watching Luna be adorable, and the rest I’m might actually (kind of) be working. Oh, and all the time, I am simultaneously curing my landlord. I have yet to have my electricity properly hooked up, even though Hubert himself bought the electric cord, all my landlord had to do was bring in an electrician. I see the wires running from the mayors office, attached just beside my house, but somewhere along the line, something is still not right. Sigh.

On the other hand, my 10^th grade chemistry class has saved my life (Or more accurately, made my life more bearable). Before, it had helped me explain to people why I don’t have to use shampoo (I haven’t for 3 years now. Just look up “no shampoo” movement if you’re curious), and why regular soap is just as good as antibacterial soap (with the added benefit of NOT creating antibiotic-resistant-bacteria). But now I have figured out how to cool down my water (slightly) without a fridge. All I have to do is wrap fabric around the bottle, get that fabric wet, then wait until that has evaporated (but not too long after that, because the heat will return). All I vaguely remember is something about that evaporation is a cooling process. Because water has to get hot, and needs heat-energy to change form (from liquid to gas); then for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction (ok, that part is actually for physics. But there is a similar concept at work here with chemistry as well); so therefore, while the water has to get hot enough to evaporate, it leaves behind coolness (official scientific terms). Thus, that is why sweat works. Our body creates water to put on our skin, it evaporates, then Voilà! We are cooled. And so is my water. Hooray.

So in conclusion, THANK YOU Mr. Thomas, wherever you are (possibly still stuck at Middletown High School. Or retired). Thank you. I’m not sure if I would have made it through the past few days without your class. And now I am really, really, truly sorry I never took your AP Chem class like you wanted. I’m sorry I was too into humanities for that. But who knows what more life-saving tips I might have learned?

Anyway, as an update, the lizard from the other day still did not leave my house, even after having been chased around by my cat for 20 minutes. I found it again behind my trunk in another room, and promptly sicced Luna on it. A lot of chasing ensued, a lot of questionable noises, but finally Luna killed it. Or so I thought until I went to approach it, and it moved again. There was more chasing, but ultimately this lizard was doomed. Luna really played with it for so long, as cats do, and once it was finally dead, it was like she didn’t know what to do with it. As I mentioned before, it’s almost as big as here, so it’s not like she was going to eat it. I ended up just throwing it over the back wall of my house, which is actually what I do with all my organic waste. (Non-organic goes into a trash pile in front of my house, where hilariously 10 pigs set on everything I just threw out as soon as it lands. Too bad for them, it’s all plastic there.)

So the running tally is going humans: minus one, cats plus one (from whatever the score was before, which I’m quite sure cats are winning by a huge margin. Just look at the internet, esp Reddit)

As for the past week. I had my artisan meetings. At Ben Club, I tried to explain that I wanted to come by each person’s shop, and see their work, talk with them, etc. Then they could take me to the next person’s shop. However, all the further this got me was that people just started explaining where certain members shops happen to be located, of which I understood nothing, so it didn’t work out. A few times this week I did try to walk around to various shops, but either people weren’t there, or they were busy, or I had to run off before they’d take me to the next person… sigh.

The solders, which is the most functional club at the moment, have decided that they will just buy their own land, and but up their own meeting place. Just to buy the land will cost $400, and I tried to point out that they could use the Maison des Jeunes for 40 months at the price that they mayor set. They told me, however, that they already been booted out from various meeting places around Kérou. So it makes more sense why they weren’t so keen on the Maison des Jeunes thing… it’s just one more place that one day they will be forced out of. But still, I hate that they’re spending money on just a place to meet. I tried to say that they should at least make it a multi-purpose area. For example, the solders are the ones that complain that they sometimes can’t find iron in Kérou, or other materials they might need. So why not build a storage area, they can by back-up supplies they might need, and then next to it, have their meeting area. Their response to this is “But don’t you understand? We need a place of our own. We are just floating around Kérou at the mayor’s whim, and we need our OWN place.” So it’s just more talking past each other. I’m sure the language thing doesn’t help, because everything I say or they say has to be translated between Bariba and French, and by people who don’t necessarily speak French perfectly. So I’m never sure if my full sentiment reaches everyone, or theirs reaches me.

I did have a wonderful little meeting with a woman, who is the president of the hairdressers of Kérou. I met her way back in August, when I came for my post visit. It was her couch, actually, on which I slept during a violent rainstorm, when I suddenly became violently ill and feverish. Good times. Anyway, I haven’t actually seen her since, due to the fact that the Hairdressers have stopped their meetings, plus I was obviously out of commission a lot, and she has been traveling. I think we just kept missing each other. Plus she lives on the opposite side of town, so I really had to make the effort to go see her. However, I am really glad I did. I arrived there, and she offered me a beer. Yes, it was 10 in the morning, but at least I didn’t ask for whiskey instead (usually I refuse beers, because I hate beers, and always try to get liquor. But 10 in the morning…). I’m trying to be well-integrated here. She gave me fried dough snacks, and yams with a good peanut sauce. We sat around and talked probably for a good 2.5 hours. I think she is one of my favorite people here in Kérou. She has already promised her younger brother as a my husband, which I am more than okay with—he’s beautiful!!! But even though she is from this area, she studied hair-dressing in Cotonou. She knows all about styles that aren’t too common here, and even knows how to do fake nails, which she laments no one here actually wants. (Which, considering that most women work with their hands all day, every day, that makes sense.) While I was there, one of her former apprentices came by with love troubles. Them being that she was living with a guy—and has a child by him—who a few months ago found another woman, and has now told this girl that she doesn’t love her any more. She says she just wants to leave, the man says, fine, go. So the hairdresser—Amina—was just giving her advice. She told her to be patient. Apparently the man still lives in the same house, maybe something will work out. Plus, where would she go? What would she do with the child? Or if she really wants to leave, make sure the man is going to send some money or something for the kid. After she left, we talked in hypotheticals about love, etc. Amina says that she thinks that sometimes its necessary for everyone to have a little something on the side. In marriage, sometimes you get bored. And if you are a wife, faithful to your husband, and he comes home smelling like another woman, then that can only hurt you. But if you know you have a little sumpin-sumpin going on as well… it’s not as big of a deal. I know, it’s sounds really liberal of her, but on the other hand, I’m pretty sure there have been very liberal men and women throughout history… it’s just that somehow we are made to believe that everyone was so prudish until THIS generation (whichever generation is the newest). And I just don’t think that’s true.

Anyway, we talked about other things as well. One thing I think is really cool is that she actually wants to start a Training Center for hairdressers here in Kérou. She has actually been setting aside a little money every month towards this goal. She wants to teach all the things she learned in Cotonou. The only thing that worries me about this is really, how much of a market is there for tons of beauty shops in an agricultural area. I mean, women here always doe something with their hair, like braiding, etc, because it’s wholly culturally inappropriate to have unkept hair. But nails? And weaves? Only some women can really afford weaves. I mentioned to her maybe creating a whole Artisan-Training-Center, combining resources, maybe having a large space where meetings could happen, which would meet the needs of other groups, and so on. She’s really partial to the hairdressing thing.

I know, everyone wants something to call their OWN. And a lot of time in the states, companies and groups have enough money to throw around they really can. But here, there are just so many better ways to spend money. Like why can’t you share???? But I know it’s hard to ask to share something you’ve dreamed for and worked towards… so we’ll see how it works out.

So in other news, there was a HUGE storm Sunday night. The previous few days, it had been VERY humid, which Anna claims is unusual for this time. Usually it’s nothing but dry. We’d heard rumors of there being one big rain in the middle of the dry season that “welcomes” MANGO season. I think—at least here in the north of benin—there was a mini-mango-season back in December. But I haven’t seen as many being sold lately. Now, however, you can see the new mangoes growing on trees. So soon, I’ve been told, I will not be able to walk without stepping on mangoes. However, this “Welcome” storm was SO strong that it ended up ripping a good many mangoes off the trees before they were ripe. It also ripped quite a few roofs off houses, so yeah, pretty bad. I happened to be going to an artisan meeting. It sprinkled briefly, then stopped. But as the meeting went on, over in the east, things started getting really, really dark (okay, just fyi, because of the latitude range that I’m in, winds actually blow the OPPOSITE way, meaning that while in the States, storms move west to east, here storms move the opposite directions. Which is actually how hurricanes (which originate in this area-ish) move across the Atlantic). So I tell the artisans I need to leave, because I’m kind of far from my house, and only on my bike. So I hurry off, and the wind starts blowing, even to the point that I am having trouble moving my bike straight and forward. I get home before it starts raining, but I want to see the storm, so I leave my door open a little bit. (Unfortunately no such thing as glass windows to kind of see the storm through). My neighbor thinks I’m crazy for being out, and of course she is right, because it starts to sprinkle, then the wind fiercely blows up the loose sand on the ground. So now I have all this sand sticking to me, then it starts to absolutely POUR down rain. I run inside. My door leaks, even when it’s fully closed. I have to rush to shut all my windows. Then I can barely hear myself think, as the rain pounds on my metal roof. It was so loud, and the wind was just so ferocious. I don’t really know how long it rained but I would guess at least 30 minutes, if not 45 minutes to an hour. It was really nice though. It cleared off the humidity, and now everything is back to being dry.

This was to the west; the last rays of sun before the storm completely covered the sky

A school with the roof torn off from the storm

To sum up the rest of my week: Monday I had gardening group meetings, which went okay, nothing exciting. Tuesday, I actually went and met with an artisan that had asked me to show him “management” techniques. I started with basic accounting, keeping a basic balance sheet. I want to show him more, but I’m going to let him get the hang of that first, and then we’ll move on to some other things. It was really cool that he asked me. Maybe if he talks about it to others, I will have more people interested and might actually do a class.

Wednesday, I did my laundry. I actually got up really early, as soon as it started getting light, and went to the pump. I brought all my stuff with me. That way I only had to walk a short distance to water, instead of using up all the stuff I labored to get to my house. Plus I sat under a tree (one of the few left in this area with leaves) so as the sun came up, I didn’t get too hot. I had saved up a lot of clothes to do, and it took me over 4 hours. Some of the stuff that was really dirty, I really did have to scrub every inch. But I will admit there were plenty of clothes that I just swished around in soapy water. (“This is basically what a washing machine does, right?” reasoned every Peace Corps volunteer ever.)

I also finally got the rest of my furniture Wednesday. Plus my screen doors now have the proper set-up, so that people can’t just push on my doors and get in my house (A CLOSED DOOR MEANS I DON’T FREAKING WANT YOU IN MY HOUSE, UNLESS I OPEN IT MYSELF, THANKS). Now children just press their noses to the screen, trying to see in. I also finally have shelves, so I can be organized (bets on how long that will last???). I think I do have to ask my carpenter to put in extra shelves in my kitchen unit, because each space is so tall, there’s a lot of wasted space, and I have far too many items.

So basically, little bits of progress everywhere. I am overall content. Except for when the plug on my fan broke (one of the prongs just snapped off). I almost cried, and actually considered moving back home and working at Outback again. I guess that was a low point. I always feel stupid admitting that it’s those little conveniences that make me angry, but life here can be so up and down stressful. Plus I expect my work to run into difficulties, and I just feel like when I come home, I should be able to leave the problems behind. But no. Africa is still there to get me. Fortunately, however, it is Africa, which means taking my fan to a shop, having them splice off the old plug and put on a new one cost me $1. So, overall, it was really fine. Except for the one fan-less night.

And Luna continues to be an absolute joy in my life. She really is so adorable. I had to work really, really hard to keep every entry from being just all about her. So many cute stories. But kind of like how I feel about over-sharing parents on facebook, I’ll keep all of these stories to myself, because I doubt you care all that much :)

Luna's favorite place to chill--not