Yesterday was one of the best Thanksgivings I've ever had (no disrespect to my family at home-I miss you tons!). All of the TEFL volunteers from my stage were together in Parakou for a week-long teacher training so we had a huge feast: turkey on the grill, mashed potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, corn bread, stuffing with gravy, bread, salad, and fruit...it was heavenly. Keeping with tradition, I ate far too much and as a result I don't think I'll be hungry for a week. (However, this will not stop me from celebrating Thanksgiving a second time in Natitingou on Saturday.) But though the food was delicious, the best part of our dinner was definitely the company. We spent nearly four hours sitting around the table telling stories about home, our families and friends, college, work, post, and all the things we are most grateful for. We laughed, we cried, and we appreciated the chance to be together for the holiday. It was, I think, the most thankful Thanksgiving I've ever experienced. I love my fellow volunteers, and I feel so fortunate to be serving here in Benin with them!
Happy Turkey Day to everyone at home and across the globe! I love you and miss you!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Ile de la Madeleine
Michelle, Laura, and I took a pirogue out to this uninhabited island off the coast of Dakar for an afternoon of exploring, picknicking, and sunbathing. As you can see, it was a gorgeous day!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
A Peace Corps Vacation
Hello from Dakar!
As you can see from the photos I posted yesterday, I’ve had a fantastic time in Sénégal so far –more like a vacation than a typical medical evacuation! (Thank you, Peace Corps!) Dakar is wild – totally different from Benin (and the rest of West Africa, from what I've heard). It's much more westernized and modern. There are real grocery stores (the new one that just opened near to Peace Corps headquarters has a better selection than Shaw's in New Haven and is absolutely beautiful!), tons of restaurants serving world-class cuisine, and paved streets full of cars and buses (rather than motos). It's the start of tourist season, so there are lots of souvenirs to buy and foreigners running around. The locals are more western too: they can usually speak at least some French (and even a little English, or at least enough to tell you to buy their stuff (“Ce n’est pas chère! Eet's not expenseeve!") and are more likely to wear western clothes than pagnes and boombahs. They even exercise on the beach, California-style. The scenic drive to downtown Dakar reminds me of visiting Marcy in LA – cliffs rising above beautiful beaches, people working out and jogging along the coast, kids playing on real play grounds...it's crazy!
I traveled to Dakar with my friend Michelle, another Benin TEFL PCV. Since it takes a full day for me to get from Penessoulou to Cotonou, we had to spend the night before our flight – which also happened to be the night of the U.S. presidential election – at the Peace Corps office in Cotonou. A bunch of other PCVs were in Cotonou for a meeting, so we all got together to watch the results come in on satellite television at the PC Administrative Officer’s house. (Thank you, Iffy!) We stayed up all night, cheering as states were declared blue and getting more-than-a-little teary-eyed when President-Elect Obama gave his valedictory oration at a little after 6 a.m. our time. It was a special place to be for this particular historic moment—serving in the Peace Corps in West Africa when America elected its first African-American president. For the rest of the day, everywhere we went people congratulated us, telling us that they too had stayed up all night to watch history in the making. Never have I been more proud to be an American or felt such solidarity with my countrymen and women. January 20th can’t come soon enough!
Michelle and I got into Dakar late Wednesday night, and we spent Thursday morning taking care of our medical appointments. I was totally impressed with the medical care here – the medical facility is state of the art, and the service was better than the States! On Thursday afternoon, we explored the area by Peace Corps headquarters (which is about a 20-minute taxi ride, or a 45-minute bush-taxi ride, away from downtown Dakar). There's a “dead yovo” market (a second-hand clothes market, so-called because a yovo – white person – would have to be dead to give up these gently-used clothes...kind of sad, really, when you think that in reality people just gave these clothes away and bought new ones) on the vacant lot next to the office on Thursday afternoons where I bought a pair of jeans for 500 CFA (about $1) and 4 t-shirts for 1000 CFA -- sweet deal! We went to dinner at a seafood place on the beach and drank a few too many Gazelles (cheap Senegalese beer) before heading to a bar with a couple of other PCVs in town. It was a lot of fun!
On Friday we were invited to attend Peace Corps Senegal's swear-in ceremony. In comparison with our swear-in ceremony, their initiation was a smaller, more intimate affair held at the U.S. Ambassador’s house and attended only by volunteers and a handful of American and Senegalese officials. The Ambassador gave a moving speech about the important role played by Americans serving abroad and about the impact of the U.S. presidential election around the world that made me feel very patriotic and warm and fuzzy inside. They served lots of yummy goodies (mini hamburgers! avocado shrimp bruschetta! cream puffs!), which we happily mooched like true Peace Corps Volunteers. (As we jumped a line of newly-minted volunteers for a second round of hors d’oeuvres, Michelle remarked that if you’re waiting in line, you haven’t been here long enough. We know better by now! Hahaha.) On our walk home from the ceremony, we stopped in at the biggest, ritziest hotel in the neighborhood just to have a look around, and when we stepped out onto the patio I realized that it was the same hotel where I spent the afternoon during my layover on my trip to South Africa a year and a half ago. It was every bit as posh and luxurious as I remembered. How funny to stumble upon it again!
On Saturday, we explored downtown Dakar. We visited the grand marché and bought touristy souvenirs and fake designer handbags (I am proud to say that I no longer run away from agressive vendors and taxi drivers, now I can discuter with the best of 'em—I got my bag for less than US $10!). Then we took a long walk along the coast, visiting the Presidential Palace and Senate House (and snapping photos with a bemused guard in traditional uniform) along the way. It was fun, but by the end of the day we were completely exhausted!
On Sunday, we took the ferry out to Ile de la Gorée -- a lovely tourist trap off the coast of Dakar. It was crazy and a bit overwhelming to be with so many foreigners! In an effort to escape the tour groups, we decided to do our tour of the island in reverse, beginning with the old fort and the marché and ending at La Maison des Esclaves (House of the Slaves -- Dakar was a big center in the slave trade), the biggest attraction on the island. However, in our cleverness we forgot that Sénégal is still in West Africa (despite appearances!) and most places take a repós in the afternoon, so by the time we got to the Maison it was closed until 2:30 -- which was also the time of the next ferry back to Dakar. So, we ended up skipping the historical site and having a nice lunch by the ocean instead. Oh well! It was a really good day just the same.
Monday was our American day. We took a day off from sight-seeing and lounged by the pool at the Club Atlantique, a kind of fitness center attached to an international school where PCVs can swim for free. The club is a little slice of America abroad: kids run around the patio and take swim lessons from an American-accented instructor while moms tan on the sidelines; a snack shack serves an array of fried foods (I ate my signature grilled chicken sandwich and french fries blissfully smothered in ketchup); lifeguards stand on duty; there are floaties and noodles in the pool. It felt like home!
Tuesday was another marché day, and today we have plans to explore a smaller, less touristy island off the coast of Dakar. Tomorrow we hope to go to Lac Rose, or the pink lake, and maybe even ride camels in the desert!
As you can tell, I'm having a really good time, and I really can't believe how lucky I am to be here. (Again: Thank you, Peace Corps!) That said, I am anxious to get back to my village and get back to work. I miss my students -- and my puppy! -- and I'm feeling really bad for being away so long during school. Hopefully I’ll be back in Penessoulou by the end of the week. Vacation is nice, but I’ve got work to do!
As you can see from the photos I posted yesterday, I’ve had a fantastic time in Sénégal so far –more like a vacation than a typical medical evacuation! (Thank you, Peace Corps!) Dakar is wild – totally different from Benin (and the rest of West Africa, from what I've heard). It's much more westernized and modern. There are real grocery stores (the new one that just opened near to Peace Corps headquarters has a better selection than Shaw's in New Haven and is absolutely beautiful!), tons of restaurants serving world-class cuisine, and paved streets full of cars and buses (rather than motos). It's the start of tourist season, so there are lots of souvenirs to buy and foreigners running around. The locals are more western too: they can usually speak at least some French (and even a little English, or at least enough to tell you to buy their stuff (“Ce n’est pas chère! Eet's not expenseeve!") and are more likely to wear western clothes than pagnes and boombahs. They even exercise on the beach, California-style. The scenic drive to downtown Dakar reminds me of visiting Marcy in LA – cliffs rising above beautiful beaches, people working out and jogging along the coast, kids playing on real play grounds...it's crazy!
I traveled to Dakar with my friend Michelle, another Benin TEFL PCV. Since it takes a full day for me to get from Penessoulou to Cotonou, we had to spend the night before our flight – which also happened to be the night of the U.S. presidential election – at the Peace Corps office in Cotonou. A bunch of other PCVs were in Cotonou for a meeting, so we all got together to watch the results come in on satellite television at the PC Administrative Officer’s house. (Thank you, Iffy!) We stayed up all night, cheering as states were declared blue and getting more-than-a-little teary-eyed when President-Elect Obama gave his valedictory oration at a little after 6 a.m. our time. It was a special place to be for this particular historic moment—serving in the Peace Corps in West Africa when America elected its first African-American president. For the rest of the day, everywhere we went people congratulated us, telling us that they too had stayed up all night to watch history in the making. Never have I been more proud to be an American or felt such solidarity with my countrymen and women. January 20th can’t come soon enough!
Michelle and I got into Dakar late Wednesday night, and we spent Thursday morning taking care of our medical appointments. I was totally impressed with the medical care here – the medical facility is state of the art, and the service was better than the States! On Thursday afternoon, we explored the area by Peace Corps headquarters (which is about a 20-minute taxi ride, or a 45-minute bush-taxi ride, away from downtown Dakar). There's a “dead yovo” market (a second-hand clothes market, so-called because a yovo – white person – would have to be dead to give up these gently-used clothes...kind of sad, really, when you think that in reality people just gave these clothes away and bought new ones) on the vacant lot next to the office on Thursday afternoons where I bought a pair of jeans for 500 CFA (about $1) and 4 t-shirts for 1000 CFA -- sweet deal! We went to dinner at a seafood place on the beach and drank a few too many Gazelles (cheap Senegalese beer) before heading to a bar with a couple of other PCVs in town. It was a lot of fun!
On Friday we were invited to attend Peace Corps Senegal's swear-in ceremony. In comparison with our swear-in ceremony, their initiation was a smaller, more intimate affair held at the U.S. Ambassador’s house and attended only by volunteers and a handful of American and Senegalese officials. The Ambassador gave a moving speech about the important role played by Americans serving abroad and about the impact of the U.S. presidential election around the world that made me feel very patriotic and warm and fuzzy inside. They served lots of yummy goodies (mini hamburgers! avocado shrimp bruschetta! cream puffs!), which we happily mooched like true Peace Corps Volunteers. (As we jumped a line of newly-minted volunteers for a second round of hors d’oeuvres, Michelle remarked that if you’re waiting in line, you haven’t been here long enough. We know better by now! Hahaha.) On our walk home from the ceremony, we stopped in at the biggest, ritziest hotel in the neighborhood just to have a look around, and when we stepped out onto the patio I realized that it was the same hotel where I spent the afternoon during my layover on my trip to South Africa a year and a half ago. It was every bit as posh and luxurious as I remembered. How funny to stumble upon it again!
On Saturday, we explored downtown Dakar. We visited the grand marché and bought touristy souvenirs and fake designer handbags (I am proud to say that I no longer run away from agressive vendors and taxi drivers, now I can discuter with the best of 'em—I got my bag for less than US $10!). Then we took a long walk along the coast, visiting the Presidential Palace and Senate House (and snapping photos with a bemused guard in traditional uniform) along the way. It was fun, but by the end of the day we were completely exhausted!
On Sunday, we took the ferry out to Ile de la Gorée -- a lovely tourist trap off the coast of Dakar. It was crazy and a bit overwhelming to be with so many foreigners! In an effort to escape the tour groups, we decided to do our tour of the island in reverse, beginning with the old fort and the marché and ending at La Maison des Esclaves (House of the Slaves -- Dakar was a big center in the slave trade), the biggest attraction on the island. However, in our cleverness we forgot that Sénégal is still in West Africa (despite appearances!) and most places take a repós in the afternoon, so by the time we got to the Maison it was closed until 2:30 -- which was also the time of the next ferry back to Dakar. So, we ended up skipping the historical site and having a nice lunch by the ocean instead. Oh well! It was a really good day just the same.
Monday was our American day. We took a day off from sight-seeing and lounged by the pool at the Club Atlantique, a kind of fitness center attached to an international school where PCVs can swim for free. The club is a little slice of America abroad: kids run around the patio and take swim lessons from an American-accented instructor while moms tan on the sidelines; a snack shack serves an array of fried foods (I ate my signature grilled chicken sandwich and french fries blissfully smothered in ketchup); lifeguards stand on duty; there are floaties and noodles in the pool. It felt like home!
Tuesday was another marché day, and today we have plans to explore a smaller, less touristy island off the coast of Dakar. Tomorrow we hope to go to Lac Rose, or the pink lake, and maybe even ride camels in the desert!
As you can tell, I'm having a really good time, and I really can't believe how lucky I am to be here. (Again: Thank you, Peace Corps!) That said, I am anxious to get back to my village and get back to work. I miss my students -- and my puppy! -- and I'm feeling really bad for being away so long during school. Hopefully I’ll be back in Penessoulou by the end of the week. Vacation is nice, but I’ve got work to do!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Dakar: In Pictures
Greetings from sunny Dakar!
I'm sorry to say that I have not yet written a post about 
my time here, but in the meantime I thought I'd put up some photos to give you an idea of what I've been up to. As you can see below, I'm having a blast!
my time here, but in the meantime I thought I'd put up some photos to give you an idea of what I've been up to. As you can see below, I'm having a blast! Bons baisers du Senegal,
Naima
P.S. I'm adding a link to my friend Michelle's blog on the sideline. She travelled with me to Senegal, and I think she's posting an entry or two about our trip! Check it out!
Michelle and I were invited to attend the swear-in ceremony for Peace Corps Senegal at the U.S. Ambassador's house -- it was lovely!
Me on the coast at Les Almadies 
Michelle testing the waters at Les Almadies
Ile de la Goree -- gorgeous!
Ferry to Ile de la Goree -- note its name! Hahaha.
Me on the ferry to Ile de la Goree.
Michelle a la plage!
This poubelle made me laugh.
View from the old castle, Ile de la Goree
A brand-new, American-style grocery store nearby Peace Corps headquarters. Incredible!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
News from the village
(I wrote this a few days ago but didn't have a chance to post it 'til now...I'm working on a new update now, as it's been an exciting couple of days! More news to follow!)
November 3, 2008
It’s hard to believe that October has come and gone. Although it does feel as though I’ve been in Benin a fair bit – four months now! – I can’t imagine that any “real” time has passed. This feeling is due, at least in part, to the lack of easily distinguishable seasons in Benin: here, it is eternal summer in my mind. Yes, the rain has stopped and afternoon temperatures are creeping steadily upwards (it was 95 degrees at 3 p.m. today in the shade!), but this is nothing in comparison with the transformation of New England from summer to fall, fall to winter. And though I know that at home the leaves are falling, school is in full swing, baseball season is over and football season has begun, Halloween has passed, and the presidential election will be resolved tomorrow at last, I am so far removed from these happenings as to render them almost unreal.
Meanwhile, here in Penessoulou life goes on. School continues to go well – teaching is fun, and I really like my students. I gave my 6emes a quiz on numbers 1-20 last week, and some did really well but some did terrrrribly. It’s going to be a long road ahead!
My biggest news (which you’ve already guessed if you’ve seen my photos): I have a puppy! His name is Skip (after the neighborhood kids’ favorite card in Uno), and he is a very good dog. I haven’t been able to find a collar for him yet (dogs, like children, goats, and chickens, tend to run free here), so when I want to bring him somewhere with me I often end up carrying him – a sight which amuses the villagers to no end and leads them to ask about mon bébé. He’s good company, and it’s really nice to have him waiting for me when I get home!
Tomorrow, I travel to Cotonou and then on to Dakar to take care of some medical issues – nothing serious, but I could be gone for up to a week. I’m excited to travel, but I’m worried about missing school and time in my village. Nevertheless, I guess I can’t complain about a free trip to Senegal! I should have more time on the internet when I get to Dakar (in fact, that’s probably where I’ll post this message), so I’ll be sure to put up photos and let you know about my trip. Senegal, here I come!
November 3, 2008
It’s hard to believe that October has come and gone. Although it does feel as though I’ve been in Benin a fair bit – four months now! – I can’t imagine that any “real” time has passed. This feeling is due, at least in part, to the lack of easily distinguishable seasons in Benin: here, it is eternal summer in my mind. Yes, the rain has stopped and afternoon temperatures are creeping steadily upwards (it was 95 degrees at 3 p.m. today in the shade!), but this is nothing in comparison with the transformation of New England from summer to fall, fall to winter. And though I know that at home the leaves are falling, school is in full swing, baseball season is over and football season has begun, Halloween has passed, and the presidential election will be resolved tomorrow at last, I am so far removed from these happenings as to render them almost unreal.
Meanwhile, here in Penessoulou life goes on. School continues to go well – teaching is fun, and I really like my students. I gave my 6emes a quiz on numbers 1-20 last week, and some did really well but some did terrrrribly. It’s going to be a long road ahead!
My biggest news (which you’ve already guessed if you’ve seen my photos): I have a puppy! His name is Skip (after the neighborhood kids’ favorite card in Uno), and he is a very good dog. I haven’t been able to find a collar for him yet (dogs, like children, goats, and chickens, tend to run free here), so when I want to bring him somewhere with me I often end up carrying him – a sight which amuses the villagers to no end and leads them to ask about mon bébé. He’s good company, and it’s really nice to have him waiting for me when I get home!
Tomorrow, I travel to Cotonou and then on to Dakar to take care of some medical issues – nothing serious, but I could be gone for up to a week. I’m excited to travel, but I’m worried about missing school and time in my village. Nevertheless, I guess I can’t complain about a free trip to Senegal! I should have more time on the internet when I get to Dakar (in fact, that’s probably where I’ll post this message), so I’ll be sure to put up photos and let you know about my trip. Senegal, here I come!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Skip!
My new puppy Skip (named after the card in UNO). He keeps me busy!!
Skip and me outside my house.
I had my tailor copy my black wrap dress in crazy Beninese tissue -- I think it's pretty awesome!
Why I love biking on the goudrone
Penessoulou
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Gathering rain waterFilling in the gaps
Leaving the cybercafé a few weeks ago, I could think of nothing but all that I had left unsaid in my last post. How could I have neglected to mention anything about the crazy man who brought me weekly cadeaux of piment and ignames, or the little boys using my neighbor’s porch as a Slip ‘n Slide every time it rains…? In this post, I will attempt to touch upon a few of the topics I have forgotten in the past few entries, as well as to catch you up to speed on what’s been happening since my last post. It is a daunting task, but I shall do my best!
--
CEG Penessoulou
School has begun at last, and I am happy to report that I thoroughly enjoyed my first week of teaching. It was exciting to finally meet my students, and they were (I think) equally excited to find me at the front of their classroom. I am now greeted everywhere I go by khaki-clad youngsters who bow and say, “Good afternoon, Teacher!” And it feels as though the townspeople at last understand the purpose of my sojourn in Penessoulou: I am no longer the bumbling foreigner who wanders aimlessly about mispronouncing Anii greetings, but am instead the new English teacher, still foreign and a bit confused, but with an assigned role to play in the community. I belong.
I teach four classes – two 6ème and two 5ème (the first two levels at the Collège). My schedule could not be better: I teach Monday-Wednesday from 8-12 and Thursday from 10-12 and 3-5, followed by an English department meeting from 5-7. Director Ponou followed the Peace Corps’ requests for first-year teachers’ emploi du temps to the letter, giving me only two class levels to prepare and the long weekend free for traveling. He also very considerately (and probably intelligently) scheduled me for mostly morning classes so that I won’t have to brave the midday heat. (The other English teacher was not so lucky: he has to teach all four levels and has morning and afternoon classes. I do not envy him!)
In my 6ème class, we started with the very basics: greetings and introductions, the ABC’s, counting from 1-20. A few of the students know some English already, but for the most part they are a blank slate. It’s a fun class because you can sing songs, play games, and read poems, and since most Beninese teachers don’t teach classes that way, the kids are thrilled.
In 5ème, I decided to begin with a get-to-know-you exercise before starting in on the year’s curriculum as a way to learn about the kids and to see how much English they already know. Their responses were promising – they made plenty of errors, to be sure, but they did demonstrate that they can understand basic instructions and express themselves in simple English. I was, on the whole, very impressed, and I’m excited to work with them. It’s going to be a good year!
Food and Water
As I mentioned in my last post, I have ventured a bit into the realms of Beninese and American cuisine au village, but it has been slow-going. I am very fortunate that my neighbors and my director’s wife have undertaken to feed me, and that I have discovered a few trustworthy street vendors on the road to the Collège. (My most recent discovery, thanks to PCVL Jim’s visit this week, is a roadside café that serves omelettes – and, thus, sells eggs! – and sweet bread every morning. Needless to say, I am now a regular customer!) I have also received numerous offerings of food – entire trays of piment and piles of ignames – from a well-meaning old man who is not quite right in the head but who speaks some English, mixed with Anii and other unintelligible utterances. As he is obviously very poor himself, I was feeling very guilty about accepting his gifts because he wouldn’t accept any payment, but fortunately he let me pay him on the day of the fête to end Ramadan, so I no longer feel quite so bad.
In terms of ingredients for doing my own cooking, it can be a little difficult to find many foods in Penessoulou itself. For fruits and vegetables, I can pretty much count on being able to get tomatoes and onions at a moment’s notice (girls walk around with trays of them poised on their heads), but for all other produce I rely on the weekly marchés, and even then it is usually slim-picking. Bananas and oranges are in abundance, but greens are rare, and fruits like mangoes and pineapples that were plentiful in the south are not found in the north. Meat and dairy are similarly hard to come by; and while I can find cheese (wagasi, produced by the nomadic Peule who come in from the fields to the marchés in the early morning) pretty regularly, I very rarely eat meat.
That said, I’m not missing American foods nearly as much as I thought that I would. Yes, I would love a cheeseburger and a vanilla milkshake, but I’m not really craving anything specific. More than anything, I miss the variety of American food. My diet here is largely composed of starches: yams, rice, and pasta, especially. And although I have always had a tendency to eat too many carbohydrates (cereal and sugar cookies were staples in my American diet), I usually ate them with, rather than in lieu of, foods from other food groups. Eating igname pilée every day, while filling, is not always satisfying.
As for my water situation, at present I pull my water from a well directly outside my house. It’s a bit of a pain, especially because I have not yet mastered the carrying-a-bucket-on-my-head trick, and I slosh water all over the place when I haul the water awkwardly on my side, but you do get used to it after a while.
However, the water level in my nearest well has already dropped noticeably with the diminishing rains, and soon I will be forced to use a pump a bit farther away near the Goudrone or up at the CEG. I’m a bit conflicted about hiring someone to do this chore for me – Isn’t the Peace Corps meant to be a character-building experience? And won’t I be propagating the image of the rich/lazy/incapable/insert-stereotype-here American? – but I think I will find it necessary once water isn’t easily accessible. Hopefully I will be able to find a student who needs help paying for school fees or something so that I can at least feel like my paresse is contributing to a good cause. In the meantime, I’ll keep filling my bucket!
Health
Until last week, I marveled at how healthy I had been since I arrived in Benin. With the exception of the occasional bad meal, everything was smooth sailing. But then I got my first taste of illness in Africa in the form of a 24-hour trip to the latrine and a 104-degree fever. Fortunately, I was staying with Jessica (a fellow PCV) in Bassila at the time for a teacher’s formation, and though it was, I suppose, a bit awkward to be running back and forth to someone else’s latrine, it was comforting to be with someone who could watch over me and ask about my symptoms in English. My sickness also gave us an excuse to stay in the following day and indulge ourselves with an afternoon of watching Anne of Green Gables on Jessica’s computer…it was delightful! And though I’m not yet entirely back to “normal,” I’m feeling better and on the road to recovery. What an adventure!
Communication
As some of you already know, the newly-constructed MTN tower in Penessoulou became operational at the end of my second week here, so thankfully I no longer have to stand by the side of the goudrone to find cell phone service. Keepcalling.com makes it relatively inexpensive to call here from the U.S., or so I’m told, and as a result I’ve been fortunate to have fairly frequent communication with quite a few of you! This has, of course, made my first few weeks infinitely less scary, isolating, and lonely. And although I’m sure that there is something to be said for the more traditional, sans cell phone Peace Corps experience, I, for one, am quite grateful for the connection.
Internet, however, is a different story. The nearest cybercafé is in Bassila, 28k from Penessoulou, and is relatively expensive on a Peace Corps budget. I’ve been going once every few weeks, but I will continue to go as often now that school has begun. At first, it was a little strange not to check my Gmail/Facebook/New York Times homepage multiple times per day (or, really, to be connected nonstop), but now I’m pretty used to it. Using the internet here even stresses me out a little because the connection is slow and I can’t respond to emails, load pictures or post on my blog quickly, and as a result constantly feel like I’m wasting time or falling behind. (This does not mean that you shouldn’t email me – I love getting emails! – but please don’t be alarmed/offended/annoyed if it takes me a little while to get back to you!)
Sending and receiving mail has been one of the more frustrating aspects of life in Benin. Now that I am at post, my mail is delivered from the Peace Corps office in Cotonou to the work station in Natitingou once monthly. It is nice that they have this service, but it means that if something arrives in Cotonou the day after the shuttle departs then I won’t get it for another month at least (probably longer since I don’t get to the workstation very often). Additionally, while I have received lots of letters and postcards (thanks, guys!) and a couple of small packages in envelopes, I have only received one box package in the three months that I’ve been here (much to the dismay of my mom, who has sent four or five). It’s nearly impossible to track where the packages are, but I have convinced myself that they are all sitting somewhere, together and unharmed, but entirely forgotten due to someone’s oversight…and I am, of course, very annoyed at this anonymous person! Haha. And, from what I have heard, the letters that I posted about six weeks ago from Porto Novo have not yet arrived in the U.S., so I think that I may abandon the Beninese postal service entirely and go back to sending my letters through the Peace Corps mail drop (whereby PCVs going back to the U.S. mail others’ pre-stamped letters while they are at home). I love mail, but it’s not an easy thing here!!
Transportation in Benin: At Your Own Risk
I talked a little bit last time about the string of strange (for the U.S., not for Benin) incidents my taxis encountered en route to Natitingou a couple of weeks ago, but said nothing about the vehicles, which are themselves quite remarkable. Benin is where cars come to die; or, more precisely, where cars already declared dead in some other part of the world are resuscitated (over their vehement objections) and re-drafted into service. Invariably, the speedometer, odometer, and gas gauge no longer function; one or both of the headlights is out; the rearview mirror hangs by a thread; and ignition is manual (i.e. the car must be pushed to start). I hesitate to imagine what Jim Farrell would say if he saw these cars on the road – never mind what he would say if he knew I was riding in them!
As if these maladies were not enough, these poor, dilapidated vehicles are then overburdened nearly to the point of collapse with passengers and freight. Par example, my taxi to Bassila last week was an ordinary five-passenger station wagon that had been converted to a nine-passenger vehicle by the addition of an extra seat in the back – but we squeezed fifteen people (four in front, six in the middle, and five in back), plus carried luggage piled four feet deep atop the car. My taxi home from Bassila transported ten passengers, their bags, and a giant drum of petrol within and three large sacks of coal and one more passenger strapped to the top. The words “death trap” came to mind at several points in the journey, not least when our wheel nearly came off as we barreled up a hill. Our driver pulled the rear bumper off the car while trying to repair said wheel and then narrowly escaped being crushed when the jack collapsed under the car’s immense weight. Needless to say, I was very thankful to make it home in one piece that night!
On top of all this, there are no real rules of the road (or, if there are, no one pays much attention to them). Moto drivers, especially, are guilty of daredevil tactics, but most drivers treat speed limits as optional and passing as obligatory. There is also no guarantee that if an accident were to happen (which, considering all of the above, seems quite likely) one would reach any sort of emergency care in a timely fashion. I am told that there are ambulances in the big cities, but I have yet to see one even though I have seen several accidents. For the most part, crash victims rely on the kindness of passers-by to transport them to the nearest doctor. This strategy is, of course, neither reliable nor efficient, and is rendered even less effective by a hospital policy that holds would-be good Samaritans liable for an injured person’s medical expenses if he or she is unable to pay and unaccompanied by a responsible party. The volunteers from Bassila and I witnessed the backwardness of this principle firsthand on our way to Natitingou when our driver refused to transport an accident victim to Djougou because no one at the scene would accompany him to the hospital.
(Just to allay any fears out there, in the case of an emergency, I am pretty certain that I would be rushed to the nearest medical facility. I carry identification with emergency care information – in French and English – at all times, and, as a white foreigner, I am sure that anyone who saw me injured on the side of a road would assume I could pay for my hospital bills – it would probably be the one time I would be thankful to be stereotyped as a rich American! Nevertheless, the situation here is disturbing and alarming.)
Weather
In my first few weeks at post, I could nearly set my watch by the afternoon rain shower: it came, fast and furious, each day at about 3 p.m., cooling the air and replenishing the wells. Since I didn’t have to work or leave my house, this was my favorite time of day. I could sit on my porch, usually joined by six or seven neighborhood kids, watching the braver boys using my neighbor’s terrace as a Slip ‘n Slide (when her back was turned) and enjoying the fraicheur. It was a bit magical.
Now, the rains come less frequently and nearly always at night, usually preceded by heat lightning and a cut in the power. The wells are drying up and the days are getting hotter, no doubt foreshadowing the chaleur to come. I can’t complain yet, but I am seriously contemplating buying a fan today in anticipation!
House
My house is beginning to resemble a real home with the arrival of a bed, table and chairs, and even curtains. I have placed an order for an armoire and a bookshelf, and I hope to get furniture for my kitchen soon as well. It is coming along slowly but surely!
--
I think that’s about all I can say for now. If you’ve read through all this, bon travail! I hope this lengthy entry gives you a better idea of what my life is like here and how things are going. As Mama Schurgin said to me in her letter, “It sounds like an almost indescribable experience!” – and, in many respects it is…but I’ll keep trying to describe it just the same!
Hope all is well in the States, and lots of love to you all!
--
CEG Penessoulou
School has begun at last, and I am happy to report that I thoroughly enjoyed my first week of teaching. It was exciting to finally meet my students, and they were (I think) equally excited to find me at the front of their classroom. I am now greeted everywhere I go by khaki-clad youngsters who bow and say, “Good afternoon, Teacher!” And it feels as though the townspeople at last understand the purpose of my sojourn in Penessoulou: I am no longer the bumbling foreigner who wanders aimlessly about mispronouncing Anii greetings, but am instead the new English teacher, still foreign and a bit confused, but with an assigned role to play in the community. I belong.
I teach four classes – two 6ème and two 5ème (the first two levels at the Collège). My schedule could not be better: I teach Monday-Wednesday from 8-12 and Thursday from 10-12 and 3-5, followed by an English department meeting from 5-7. Director Ponou followed the Peace Corps’ requests for first-year teachers’ emploi du temps to the letter, giving me only two class levels to prepare and the long weekend free for traveling. He also very considerately (and probably intelligently) scheduled me for mostly morning classes so that I won’t have to brave the midday heat. (The other English teacher was not so lucky: he has to teach all four levels and has morning and afternoon classes. I do not envy him!)
In my 6ème class, we started with the very basics: greetings and introductions, the ABC’s, counting from 1-20. A few of the students know some English already, but for the most part they are a blank slate. It’s a fun class because you can sing songs, play games, and read poems, and since most Beninese teachers don’t teach classes that way, the kids are thrilled.
In 5ème, I decided to begin with a get-to-know-you exercise before starting in on the year’s curriculum as a way to learn about the kids and to see how much English they already know. Their responses were promising – they made plenty of errors, to be sure, but they did demonstrate that they can understand basic instructions and express themselves in simple English. I was, on the whole, very impressed, and I’m excited to work with them. It’s going to be a good year!
Food and Water
As I mentioned in my last post, I have ventured a bit into the realms of Beninese and American cuisine au village, but it has been slow-going. I am very fortunate that my neighbors and my director’s wife have undertaken to feed me, and that I have discovered a few trustworthy street vendors on the road to the Collège. (My most recent discovery, thanks to PCVL Jim’s visit this week, is a roadside café that serves omelettes – and, thus, sells eggs! – and sweet bread every morning. Needless to say, I am now a regular customer!) I have also received numerous offerings of food – entire trays of piment and piles of ignames – from a well-meaning old man who is not quite right in the head but who speaks some English, mixed with Anii and other unintelligible utterances. As he is obviously very poor himself, I was feeling very guilty about accepting his gifts because he wouldn’t accept any payment, but fortunately he let me pay him on the day of the fête to end Ramadan, so I no longer feel quite so bad.
In terms of ingredients for doing my own cooking, it can be a little difficult to find many foods in Penessoulou itself. For fruits and vegetables, I can pretty much count on being able to get tomatoes and onions at a moment’s notice (girls walk around with trays of them poised on their heads), but for all other produce I rely on the weekly marchés, and even then it is usually slim-picking. Bananas and oranges are in abundance, but greens are rare, and fruits like mangoes and pineapples that were plentiful in the south are not found in the north. Meat and dairy are similarly hard to come by; and while I can find cheese (wagasi, produced by the nomadic Peule who come in from the fields to the marchés in the early morning) pretty regularly, I very rarely eat meat.
That said, I’m not missing American foods nearly as much as I thought that I would. Yes, I would love a cheeseburger and a vanilla milkshake, but I’m not really craving anything specific. More than anything, I miss the variety of American food. My diet here is largely composed of starches: yams, rice, and pasta, especially. And although I have always had a tendency to eat too many carbohydrates (cereal and sugar cookies were staples in my American diet), I usually ate them with, rather than in lieu of, foods from other food groups. Eating igname pilée every day, while filling, is not always satisfying.
As for my water situation, at present I pull my water from a well directly outside my house. It’s a bit of a pain, especially because I have not yet mastered the carrying-a-bucket-on-my-head trick, and I slosh water all over the place when I haul the water awkwardly on my side, but you do get used to it after a while.
However, the water level in my nearest well has already dropped noticeably with the diminishing rains, and soon I will be forced to use a pump a bit farther away near the Goudrone or up at the CEG. I’m a bit conflicted about hiring someone to do this chore for me – Isn’t the Peace Corps meant to be a character-building experience? And won’t I be propagating the image of the rich/lazy/incapable/insert-stereotype-here American? – but I think I will find it necessary once water isn’t easily accessible. Hopefully I will be able to find a student who needs help paying for school fees or something so that I can at least feel like my paresse is contributing to a good cause. In the meantime, I’ll keep filling my bucket!
Health
Until last week, I marveled at how healthy I had been since I arrived in Benin. With the exception of the occasional bad meal, everything was smooth sailing. But then I got my first taste of illness in Africa in the form of a 24-hour trip to the latrine and a 104-degree fever. Fortunately, I was staying with Jessica (a fellow PCV) in Bassila at the time for a teacher’s formation, and though it was, I suppose, a bit awkward to be running back and forth to someone else’s latrine, it was comforting to be with someone who could watch over me and ask about my symptoms in English. My sickness also gave us an excuse to stay in the following day and indulge ourselves with an afternoon of watching Anne of Green Gables on Jessica’s computer…it was delightful! And though I’m not yet entirely back to “normal,” I’m feeling better and on the road to recovery. What an adventure!
Communication
As some of you already know, the newly-constructed MTN tower in Penessoulou became operational at the end of my second week here, so thankfully I no longer have to stand by the side of the goudrone to find cell phone service. Keepcalling.com makes it relatively inexpensive to call here from the U.S., or so I’m told, and as a result I’ve been fortunate to have fairly frequent communication with quite a few of you! This has, of course, made my first few weeks infinitely less scary, isolating, and lonely. And although I’m sure that there is something to be said for the more traditional, sans cell phone Peace Corps experience, I, for one, am quite grateful for the connection.
Internet, however, is a different story. The nearest cybercafé is in Bassila, 28k from Penessoulou, and is relatively expensive on a Peace Corps budget. I’ve been going once every few weeks, but I will continue to go as often now that school has begun. At first, it was a little strange not to check my Gmail/Facebook/New York Times homepage multiple times per day (or, really, to be connected nonstop), but now I’m pretty used to it. Using the internet here even stresses me out a little because the connection is slow and I can’t respond to emails, load pictures or post on my blog quickly, and as a result constantly feel like I’m wasting time or falling behind. (This does not mean that you shouldn’t email me – I love getting emails! – but please don’t be alarmed/offended/annoyed if it takes me a little while to get back to you!)
Sending and receiving mail has been one of the more frustrating aspects of life in Benin. Now that I am at post, my mail is delivered from the Peace Corps office in Cotonou to the work station in Natitingou once monthly. It is nice that they have this service, but it means that if something arrives in Cotonou the day after the shuttle departs then I won’t get it for another month at least (probably longer since I don’t get to the workstation very often). Additionally, while I have received lots of letters and postcards (thanks, guys!) and a couple of small packages in envelopes, I have only received one box package in the three months that I’ve been here (much to the dismay of my mom, who has sent four or five). It’s nearly impossible to track where the packages are, but I have convinced myself that they are all sitting somewhere, together and unharmed, but entirely forgotten due to someone’s oversight…and I am, of course, very annoyed at this anonymous person! Haha. And, from what I have heard, the letters that I posted about six weeks ago from Porto Novo have not yet arrived in the U.S., so I think that I may abandon the Beninese postal service entirely and go back to sending my letters through the Peace Corps mail drop (whereby PCVs going back to the U.S. mail others’ pre-stamped letters while they are at home). I love mail, but it’s not an easy thing here!!
Transportation in Benin: At Your Own Risk
I talked a little bit last time about the string of strange (for the U.S., not for Benin) incidents my taxis encountered en route to Natitingou a couple of weeks ago, but said nothing about the vehicles, which are themselves quite remarkable. Benin is where cars come to die; or, more precisely, where cars already declared dead in some other part of the world are resuscitated (over their vehement objections) and re-drafted into service. Invariably, the speedometer, odometer, and gas gauge no longer function; one or both of the headlights is out; the rearview mirror hangs by a thread; and ignition is manual (i.e. the car must be pushed to start). I hesitate to imagine what Jim Farrell would say if he saw these cars on the road – never mind what he would say if he knew I was riding in them!
As if these maladies were not enough, these poor, dilapidated vehicles are then overburdened nearly to the point of collapse with passengers and freight. Par example, my taxi to Bassila last week was an ordinary five-passenger station wagon that had been converted to a nine-passenger vehicle by the addition of an extra seat in the back – but we squeezed fifteen people (four in front, six in the middle, and five in back), plus carried luggage piled four feet deep atop the car. My taxi home from Bassila transported ten passengers, their bags, and a giant drum of petrol within and three large sacks of coal and one more passenger strapped to the top. The words “death trap” came to mind at several points in the journey, not least when our wheel nearly came off as we barreled up a hill. Our driver pulled the rear bumper off the car while trying to repair said wheel and then narrowly escaped being crushed when the jack collapsed under the car’s immense weight. Needless to say, I was very thankful to make it home in one piece that night!
On top of all this, there are no real rules of the road (or, if there are, no one pays much attention to them). Moto drivers, especially, are guilty of daredevil tactics, but most drivers treat speed limits as optional and passing as obligatory. There is also no guarantee that if an accident were to happen (which, considering all of the above, seems quite likely) one would reach any sort of emergency care in a timely fashion. I am told that there are ambulances in the big cities, but I have yet to see one even though I have seen several accidents. For the most part, crash victims rely on the kindness of passers-by to transport them to the nearest doctor. This strategy is, of course, neither reliable nor efficient, and is rendered even less effective by a hospital policy that holds would-be good Samaritans liable for an injured person’s medical expenses if he or she is unable to pay and unaccompanied by a responsible party. The volunteers from Bassila and I witnessed the backwardness of this principle firsthand on our way to Natitingou when our driver refused to transport an accident victim to Djougou because no one at the scene would accompany him to the hospital.
(Just to allay any fears out there, in the case of an emergency, I am pretty certain that I would be rushed to the nearest medical facility. I carry identification with emergency care information – in French and English – at all times, and, as a white foreigner, I am sure that anyone who saw me injured on the side of a road would assume I could pay for my hospital bills – it would probably be the one time I would be thankful to be stereotyped as a rich American! Nevertheless, the situation here is disturbing and alarming.)
Weather
In my first few weeks at post, I could nearly set my watch by the afternoon rain shower: it came, fast and furious, each day at about 3 p.m., cooling the air and replenishing the wells. Since I didn’t have to work or leave my house, this was my favorite time of day. I could sit on my porch, usually joined by six or seven neighborhood kids, watching the braver boys using my neighbor’s terrace as a Slip ‘n Slide (when her back was turned) and enjoying the fraicheur. It was a bit magical.
Now, the rains come less frequently and nearly always at night, usually preceded by heat lightning and a cut in the power. The wells are drying up and the days are getting hotter, no doubt foreshadowing the chaleur to come. I can’t complain yet, but I am seriously contemplating buying a fan today in anticipation!
House
My house is beginning to resemble a real home with the arrival of a bed, table and chairs, and even curtains. I have placed an order for an armoire and a bookshelf, and I hope to get furniture for my kitchen soon as well. It is coming along slowly but surely!
--
I think that’s about all I can say for now. If you’ve read through all this, bon travail! I hope this lengthy entry gives you a better idea of what my life is like here and how things are going. As Mama Schurgin said to me in her letter, “It sounds like an almost indescribable experience!” – and, in many respects it is…but I’ll keep trying to describe it just the same!
Hope all is well in the States, and lots of love to you all!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
a photo
Palais de Congrès, Cotonou
It's apparently a lot easier to upload photos than I thought! I don't have time to post more now, but I will do so a.s.a.p. Lots of Love!
Friday, October 3, 2008
Life as a Volunteer
Greetings from Penessoulou! (Or, more precisely, from Bassila, since that’s where I’ll post this message.) I apologize yet again for the tardiness of my update, but as this is only the second time I’ve visited the cybercafé in over a month, I fear that this may be the norm!
I am, at last, a bona fide Peace Corps volunteer. We swore in just over three weeks ago at a grand ceremony at the Palais de Congrès in Cotonou. The fête marked the 40th Anniversary of Peace Corps Benin and thus was attended by numerous state dignitaries, including a former president of Benin and the regional director of Peace Corps in Africa (who was knighted by Beninese government later that evening). All of the inductees wore matching brightly-colored fabric by sector (même tissue signifies family and togetherness), and en masse we were quite a sight to behold. (TEFL volunteers wore a lovely shade of magenta; see photos.) The festivities were recorded for local TV, and, as one of several volunteers selected to read a brief greeting in a local language, I was featured in a bit of the footage! It was pretty hilarious. For days afterward people continued to saluer me in Nagot: E kaaro! She dji daada? Adukpe! (Unfortunately, I have since learned that they do not speak Nagot in Penessoulou—oh well!)
After a few more days of goodbyes and last-minute packing and purchasing in Porto Novo, a fellow volunteer and I crammed all of our worldly possessions into and on top of a rickety taxi and traveled north to post. (As a side note, few months ago I would not have thought it possible to fit three mattresses, two bicycles, four large suitcases, two sizable trunks, four gas bottles, and various other miscellany into a single five-passenger vehicle and still have room for three people to sit (relatively) comfortably, but if there is one thing that my experience in Benin has taught me thus far it is that there is no such thing as a “full” vehicle…more on that later.) Our trip was uneventful and fairly quick – much faster than when I came here by bus! Almost before I knew what had happened, I found myself here in Penessoulou, on my own for the first time since my arrival in Benin, or really, since my arrival in Philadelphia, two months before.
Having read numerous accounts of volunteers’ feelings of panic as the Peace Corps vehicle faded into the distance, I was prepared to feel a little terrified/overwhelmed/isolated upon my arrival. In reality, those first few days were not nearly as alarming as I had anticipated. I unpacked; I cleaned house; I saluer-ed; I explored the village. My next-door neighbors -- a young couple, their two-year-old daughter, two of their sisters, and a girl who helps around the house -- adopted me immediately as their own, welcoming me into their home, sharing their meals, and teaching me, peu á peu, how to live au village in Benin: how to pull water from the well, how to make igname pilée (a local specialty, literally “crushed yams,” pounded to a pulp in an oversized mortar and pestle -- the whole neighborhood laughs when I try to wield the pilon), where to find a carpenter, how to saluer in Anii (the local language of Penessoulou), which bugs to avoid, etc. Little by little, I've met and been welcomed by others as well - my Director, other teachers from the College, the Chef d'Arondissement, the members of the A.P.E. (parents' association), and, most importantly, the neighborhood kids, who fill up my porch every day and make it impossible for me to feel too lonely.
Otherwise, my life at post has been good so far, if a bit slow. School has not yet begun – the rentrée is now scheduled for this Monday, October 6th – so I have a lot of free time at the moment. Nevertheless, somehow I manage to fill each day, and now I’m even beginning to wonder how I’ll ever have time to do all this and teach! As I’ve mentioned before, household tasks take up much more time here than they do in the States, so I’ve been fairly occupied just setting up and maintaining my house and living everyday life. Although my house is quite luxurious by Peace Corps standards – I have electricity (most of the time), a well out front and a water pump nearby, and a private bathroom – it requires a no small amount of upkeep in the form of sweeping, dusting, replenishing water, and the like. (We sweep morning, noon, and night here – the dust is fierce!) Hand-washing laundry, a task which I used to dread but which is now almost enjoyable because I do it while sitting on my porch and listening to the BBC World Service, demands the better part of a morning, and the preparation of Beninese cuisine like pâte or igname pilée (things I only make with my neighbors and have yet to master on my own) is a full-time occupation. Trying to cook American-style food is also an interesting experience given my limited kitchen supplies and cooking skills. When I’m really bored, I try my hand at baking in a Dutch oven (big pot on top of my stove) – so far, I’ve produced a pineapple upside-down cake and banana bread, neither of which were half bad! The rest of my time is spent reading (Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse at present), running (much to the amusement of all the residents of Penessoulou), attempting – mostly unsuccessfully – to learn Anii, playing Uno with the neighborhood kids (they greet me daily with cries of “Skip!” and “Yellow!”), and riding my bike to nearby towns for marché days or to visit other volunteers. (I have become quite ambitious with my bike of late, but I have vowed to scale back slightly after getting caught in a torrential downpour on my way back from Bassila last week! Not fun and a little dangerous on these roads!)
Two weeks ago, I went north to Natitingou to go to the bank and attend a regional meeting at the Peace Corps workstation. I traveled in a taxi with the volunteers from Bassila, and our trip offered an interesting snapshot of life in Benin – we passed by a spot on the Goudrone where bandites had robbed several vehicles the night before (not too far outside Penessoulou, I might add) and a moto accident with no emergency care in sight; our car was approached by a crazy man and another person quite obviously on drugs; and we experienced a taxi strike as we crossed the regional border…it was wild. In Natitingou, I took full advantage of my time in a “big” town: I went to a real grocery store and bought things like cinnamon, brown sugar, and baking powder for more baking experiments and extra-strength cleaning supplies for my bathroom, sent letters at the post office, went out for pizza and a beer, raided the work station’s collection of second-hand books and clothes, stayed up late watching a bootleg copy of Dark Knight (so good!), and generally indulged myself in all things American. It was glorious!
I'm running out of time at the internet, so I'll stop there for now, but more news will follow. Hope all is well in the States, and keep me posted on all of your adventures!
I am, at last, a bona fide Peace Corps volunteer. We swore in just over three weeks ago at a grand ceremony at the Palais de Congrès in Cotonou. The fête marked the 40th Anniversary of Peace Corps Benin and thus was attended by numerous state dignitaries, including a former president of Benin and the regional director of Peace Corps in Africa (who was knighted by Beninese government later that evening). All of the inductees wore matching brightly-colored fabric by sector (même tissue signifies family and togetherness), and en masse we were quite a sight to behold. (TEFL volunteers wore a lovely shade of magenta; see photos.) The festivities were recorded for local TV, and, as one of several volunteers selected to read a brief greeting in a local language, I was featured in a bit of the footage! It was pretty hilarious. For days afterward people continued to saluer me in Nagot: E kaaro! She dji daada? Adukpe! (Unfortunately, I have since learned that they do not speak Nagot in Penessoulou—oh well!)
After a few more days of goodbyes and last-minute packing and purchasing in Porto Novo, a fellow volunteer and I crammed all of our worldly possessions into and on top of a rickety taxi and traveled north to post. (As a side note, few months ago I would not have thought it possible to fit three mattresses, two bicycles, four large suitcases, two sizable trunks, four gas bottles, and various other miscellany into a single five-passenger vehicle and still have room for three people to sit (relatively) comfortably, but if there is one thing that my experience in Benin has taught me thus far it is that there is no such thing as a “full” vehicle…more on that later.) Our trip was uneventful and fairly quick – much faster than when I came here by bus! Almost before I knew what had happened, I found myself here in Penessoulou, on my own for the first time since my arrival in Benin, or really, since my arrival in Philadelphia, two months before.
Having read numerous accounts of volunteers’ feelings of panic as the Peace Corps vehicle faded into the distance, I was prepared to feel a little terrified/overwhelmed/isolated upon my arrival. In reality, those first few days were not nearly as alarming as I had anticipated. I unpacked; I cleaned house; I saluer-ed; I explored the village. My next-door neighbors -- a young couple, their two-year-old daughter, two of their sisters, and a girl who helps around the house -- adopted me immediately as their own, welcoming me into their home, sharing their meals, and teaching me, peu á peu, how to live au village in Benin: how to pull water from the well, how to make igname pilée (a local specialty, literally “crushed yams,” pounded to a pulp in an oversized mortar and pestle -- the whole neighborhood laughs when I try to wield the pilon), where to find a carpenter, how to saluer in Anii (the local language of Penessoulou), which bugs to avoid, etc. Little by little, I've met and been welcomed by others as well - my Director, other teachers from the College, the Chef d'Arondissement, the members of the A.P.E. (parents' association), and, most importantly, the neighborhood kids, who fill up my porch every day and make it impossible for me to feel too lonely.
Otherwise, my life at post has been good so far, if a bit slow. School has not yet begun – the rentrée is now scheduled for this Monday, October 6th – so I have a lot of free time at the moment. Nevertheless, somehow I manage to fill each day, and now I’m even beginning to wonder how I’ll ever have time to do all this and teach! As I’ve mentioned before, household tasks take up much more time here than they do in the States, so I’ve been fairly occupied just setting up and maintaining my house and living everyday life. Although my house is quite luxurious by Peace Corps standards – I have electricity (most of the time), a well out front and a water pump nearby, and a private bathroom – it requires a no small amount of upkeep in the form of sweeping, dusting, replenishing water, and the like. (We sweep morning, noon, and night here – the dust is fierce!) Hand-washing laundry, a task which I used to dread but which is now almost enjoyable because I do it while sitting on my porch and listening to the BBC World Service, demands the better part of a morning, and the preparation of Beninese cuisine like pâte or igname pilée (things I only make with my neighbors and have yet to master on my own) is a full-time occupation. Trying to cook American-style food is also an interesting experience given my limited kitchen supplies and cooking skills. When I’m really bored, I try my hand at baking in a Dutch oven (big pot on top of my stove) – so far, I’ve produced a pineapple upside-down cake and banana bread, neither of which were half bad! The rest of my time is spent reading (Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse at present), running (much to the amusement of all the residents of Penessoulou), attempting – mostly unsuccessfully – to learn Anii, playing Uno with the neighborhood kids (they greet me daily with cries of “Skip!” and “Yellow!”), and riding my bike to nearby towns for marché days or to visit other volunteers. (I have become quite ambitious with my bike of late, but I have vowed to scale back slightly after getting caught in a torrential downpour on my way back from Bassila last week! Not fun and a little dangerous on these roads!)
Two weeks ago, I went north to Natitingou to go to the bank and attend a regional meeting at the Peace Corps workstation. I traveled in a taxi with the volunteers from Bassila, and our trip offered an interesting snapshot of life in Benin – we passed by a spot on the Goudrone where bandites had robbed several vehicles the night before (not too far outside Penessoulou, I might add) and a moto accident with no emergency care in sight; our car was approached by a crazy man and another person quite obviously on drugs; and we experienced a taxi strike as we crossed the regional border…it was wild. In Natitingou, I took full advantage of my time in a “big” town: I went to a real grocery store and bought things like cinnamon, brown sugar, and baking powder for more baking experiments and extra-strength cleaning supplies for my bathroom, sent letters at the post office, went out for pizza and a beer, raided the work station’s collection of second-hand books and clothes, stayed up late watching a bootleg copy of Dark Knight (so good!), and generally indulged myself in all things American. It was glorious!
I'm running out of time at the internet, so I'll stop there for now, but more news will follow. Hope all is well in the States, and keep me posted on all of your adventures!
Monday, September 1, 2008
I'm the worst blogger ever...
My apologies for another belated update – though I would not have thought it possible, this past month has been even more of a whirlwind than my first few weeks here! Model school – the Peace Corps’ Cours de Vacances, which offered free English classes to students in Porto Novo – has occupied nearly all of my time, and French and local language classes and other cultural activities (and laundry!) took up all the rest. TEFL volunteers (the teachers) have what is generally acknowledged to be the most rigorous stage (training) of the four Peace Corps sectors in Benin because our training is essentially the same as our job – teaching Beninese students English in a Beninese school – whereas the other sectors (Rural Community Health, Environmental Action, and Small Enterprise Development) can only roughly approximate the work they will do at post in their training sessions. For TEFLers, the busy stage is both good and bad – good because we learn a lot and (hopefully) go to post feeling better prepared for what lies ahead, but bad because we are absolutely exhausted by the end of it!
Although I’m definitely ready for a bit more free time, I have to admit that I’m very grateful that our training is so comprehensive. I can’t imagine going to post to start teaching for real without having taught model school first. The thought of walking into a class on the first day with no idea what to expect and no experience is absolutely terrifying! Now, even though I know that teaching will be tough and I’m sure that my first day(s) will still be nerve-wracking, I feel like I have a much better sense of what to expect and I’m more confident that I can handle it.
Teaching has been a lot of fun so far. The kids are really cute and eager to learn English, especially from young American teachers, and it’s pretty exciting to hear them speak or see them write and realize that I’ve taught them something. I was relieved to discover that I actually do enjoy teaching since that’s what I’ll be doing for the next two years…and it would have been pretty unfortunate if I’d gotten all the way here and found out that I hated it! Hahaha. That said, Beninese classrooms are very different from American classrooms, and they’re definitely going to take some getting used to. First of all, the kids don’t have books, so they copy down what the teacher writes on the board as their text – so whatever you want the kids to know had better be on the board! Beninese students are generally better behaved than American students, as respect for elders is an important tradition and the punishments for disrespecting a teacher or another student are relatively more serious than they would be in the U.S. However, with class sizes usually upwards of 60 kids, things can sometimes get a little crazy. I haven’t yet perfected my “firm teacher voice,” and I still need to work on speaking slowly and clearly…but I’m learning. And when a class goes well, I get to do fun things like teach, “Head, shoulders, knees and toes,” to ten-year-olds… so, all in all, it’s not a bad job.
Outside of model school, our limited free time (before dark, that is) is usually spent at our local buvette drinking Beninoise (the Beninese answer to Budweiser) and eating beignets (sweet fried dough balls, our favorite treat) or maybe browsing the market for tissue and other amenities. (I now have several Beninese outfits which are quite stylish if I do say so myself.) On the weekends, we have cooking classes where we learn how to cook Beninese dishes like pate rouge, rice, beans, fish, and braised chicken. Although I didn’t kill the chicken (my friend Claire had that honor), I did learn how to gut it and clean out its gooey insides! (I have to admit, it reminded me a little of doing dissections in Mrs. Banks’ 10th grade biology class, which I guess just goes to show how much cooking I’ve been doing in the past few years haha.) Two weeks ago we had an Iron Chef competition to test our new skills, and my group made turkey, mashed potatoes, sautéed vegetables, and a banana-pineapple cake which was by far the most delicious meal I have had in Benin. We didn’t win, but we ate very well! And then, this past weekend we were treated to a trip to Grand Popo where we sipped overpriced cocktails at a grand auberge on the beach that felt worlds away from the rest of Benin.
But now, stage is coming to an end: model school is over, I’ve passed my language exam, I swear-in as a volunteer on Friday, and exactly one week from today I will make the long journey up to Penessoulou to start my real Peace Corps service! I alternate between being excited, relieved, and terrified – excited to go to post, relieved to have survived training, but at the same time (mildly) terrified to be out on my own. Up to this point, the Peace Corps experience, while challenging, has been a familiar one for me – a summer away from home with a group of other young American college graduates, being shuttled from activity to activity by a host organization and cared for by a host family…I’ve done this before. Once we go to post, we will be truly on our own – setting our own agenda, cooking our own food, drawing our own water, communicating entirely in French or local language (in my case, in Ani or Nagot), and teaching classes in a real Beninese school – and that, I imagine, will be an entirely new experience for me. It’s a little scary, but I’m looking forward to it!
Alright, I think that’s all I have time for right now. If you made it all the way through this blog post, felicitations! I hope all is well with you in the States, and I hope to hear from all of you soon.
Lots and lots of love,
Naima
Although I’m definitely ready for a bit more free time, I have to admit that I’m very grateful that our training is so comprehensive. I can’t imagine going to post to start teaching for real without having taught model school first. The thought of walking into a class on the first day with no idea what to expect and no experience is absolutely terrifying! Now, even though I know that teaching will be tough and I’m sure that my first day(s) will still be nerve-wracking, I feel like I have a much better sense of what to expect and I’m more confident that I can handle it.
Teaching has been a lot of fun so far. The kids are really cute and eager to learn English, especially from young American teachers, and it’s pretty exciting to hear them speak or see them write and realize that I’ve taught them something. I was relieved to discover that I actually do enjoy teaching since that’s what I’ll be doing for the next two years…and it would have been pretty unfortunate if I’d gotten all the way here and found out that I hated it! Hahaha. That said, Beninese classrooms are very different from American classrooms, and they’re definitely going to take some getting used to. First of all, the kids don’t have books, so they copy down what the teacher writes on the board as their text – so whatever you want the kids to know had better be on the board! Beninese students are generally better behaved than American students, as respect for elders is an important tradition and the punishments for disrespecting a teacher or another student are relatively more serious than they would be in the U.S. However, with class sizes usually upwards of 60 kids, things can sometimes get a little crazy. I haven’t yet perfected my “firm teacher voice,” and I still need to work on speaking slowly and clearly…but I’m learning. And when a class goes well, I get to do fun things like teach, “Head, shoulders, knees and toes,” to ten-year-olds… so, all in all, it’s not a bad job.
Outside of model school, our limited free time (before dark, that is) is usually spent at our local buvette drinking Beninoise (the Beninese answer to Budweiser) and eating beignets (sweet fried dough balls, our favorite treat) or maybe browsing the market for tissue and other amenities. (I now have several Beninese outfits which are quite stylish if I do say so myself.) On the weekends, we have cooking classes where we learn how to cook Beninese dishes like pate rouge, rice, beans, fish, and braised chicken. Although I didn’t kill the chicken (my friend Claire had that honor), I did learn how to gut it and clean out its gooey insides! (I have to admit, it reminded me a little of doing dissections in Mrs. Banks’ 10th grade biology class, which I guess just goes to show how much cooking I’ve been doing in the past few years haha.) Two weeks ago we had an Iron Chef competition to test our new skills, and my group made turkey, mashed potatoes, sautéed vegetables, and a banana-pineapple cake which was by far the most delicious meal I have had in Benin. We didn’t win, but we ate very well! And then, this past weekend we were treated to a trip to Grand Popo where we sipped overpriced cocktails at a grand auberge on the beach that felt worlds away from the rest of Benin.
But now, stage is coming to an end: model school is over, I’ve passed my language exam, I swear-in as a volunteer on Friday, and exactly one week from today I will make the long journey up to Penessoulou to start my real Peace Corps service! I alternate between being excited, relieved, and terrified – excited to go to post, relieved to have survived training, but at the same time (mildly) terrified to be out on my own. Up to this point, the Peace Corps experience, while challenging, has been a familiar one for me – a summer away from home with a group of other young American college graduates, being shuttled from activity to activity by a host organization and cared for by a host family…I’ve done this before. Once we go to post, we will be truly on our own – setting our own agenda, cooking our own food, drawing our own water, communicating entirely in French or local language (in my case, in Ani or Nagot), and teaching classes in a real Beninese school – and that, I imagine, will be an entirely new experience for me. It’s a little scary, but I’m looking forward to it!
Alright, I think that’s all I have time for right now. If you made it all the way through this blog post, felicitations! I hope all is well with you in the States, and I hope to hear from all of you soon.
Lots and lots of love,
Naima
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Penessoulou
Hello again!
I returned from my post visit in Penessoulou last night, so I have lots of news to share about my post and about my trip. I’m trying to write some of this on the French computer at the internet café because I want to try to post some photos on Facebook while I type, so please excuse any typos!
We left for post on Wednesday morning. It takes a good day’s worth of travel to reach Penessoulou from Cotonou (if you leave by 9 a.m., you might get there by 5 p.m., depending on the road conditions and your means of transport), but on a bus the journey is not entirely unpleasant. I was fortunate to travel most of the way with two other volunteers posted nearby, and our Directors (school principals) accompanied us on the way up – so aside from the heat, lack of bathrooms, and various engine troubles en route, it was actually a pretty nice and uneventful trip :) haha.
Penessoulou itself is quite small – just a strip of low buildings lining the Goudrone (“good road”) linking Cotonou in the south with Natitingou in the north. Its permanent fixtures are a mosque, a tiny church, a small health center, the primary and secondary school complexes, and three buvettes (go figure). The CEG (College d’Enseignement Generale, equivalent of junior high in the U.S., where I will be teaching) is a little ways out of the town “center” and consists of three one-story buildings with 5-6 classrooms each, plus a small office for the Director and Censeur (Vice-Principal), a basketball court, and a soccer field, all surrounded by cornfields. There is a weekly marché in Penessoulou, but I’ll have to travel to Bassila to get most supplies and to find a post office, a bank, and an internet café.
That said, I’m really happy to be posted in a small village rather than in a big city like Cotonou or Porto Novo. The cities here are wild– crazy motorcycles cram the roadways and pollute the air, vendors line the streets hawking their wares, women in colorful tissue (fabric) stride with baskets balanced on their heads and babies strapped around their backs, and children (and animals – goats, chickens, dogs)run about as they please. People are generally very friendly and saluer people as they pass, however, we – Peace Corps volunteers – stick out like sore thumbs everywhere we go and are greeted instead with shouts of “Yovo! Yovo!” (white/foreign person in Fon), or worse, the “Yovo” song: “Yovo, yovo, bonsoir, ca va bien, merci, donnez-moi un cadeau.” The song was taught to Beninese children by the French during the colonial period in an attempt to teach them French, and, as the song suggests, if children sang it the French would give them gifts – thus it has all sorts of negative connotations, in addition to being pretty obnoxious and tiresome. I like to tell the kids singing, “Je ne suis pas Yovo, je suis Beninoise!” but I don’t think they believe me…haha.
My house is about a two-minute walk down a dirt path from the Goudrone, and is, as I had heard, quite grand for one person even by American standards – I have a salon, two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom with a toilet and shower area (although no running water), and a porch. The house is at the moment entirely empty, so I need to get a lot of furniture (and visitors!) to fill it up (no small feat considering that a lot of things can only be bought in the south, but I shall persevere haha). I also really want to get a dog to keep me company! Most people here use dogs as protection rather than pets and as a result the dogs I’ve seen have been kind of wild rather than friendly, but my Director has a really nice dog (named Rocky haha) so I’m hoping I can convince him to help me find one like him.
Since my house is unfurnished, I stayed with my Director and his family – his wife, Catherine, and their two daughters, Grace (4) and Lydee (2), his wife’s two younger sisters, Bernadette and Ossila, and their domestique, Guira – while I visited. They were all very hospitable and friendly—Catherine is a tailor and she made me an AWESOME modele (skirt and top) in Yayi Boni (President of Benin) tissue (I don’t have pictures yet but just wait til you see it); they fed me lots (they raise turkeys and chickens in their yard – which, if you know how much I love birds, was mildly terrifying, but I mastered my fears haha); and they were really nice when I came down with a cold the second day and just needed to sleep for a while. (However, I must admit that I’m looking forward to having my own space and not feeling bad when I don’t want to eat food, be sociable, or play with screaming children - but I have to wait a bit for that!)
My Director, M. Ponou, seems great so far – excited to have me and eager to make improvements in the school and community. He considers himself a bit of an outsider in Penessoulou (he is from Porto Novo, originally), so he understands a little of what it’s like to be new and not villageois and is making a conscious effort to encourage the village to adopt me as their own, always remembering to introduce me as “notre etrangère” (our foreigner) and telling everyone we meet that I will be living in Penessoulou for two years (emphasis on two years).
It was during these many introductions that I felt for the first time confronted with the reality of my service—two years teaching English in a remote village in West Africa?! How crazy is that?! But it’s exciting, too. When M. Ponou brought me in to meet the village elders, who were at the time gathered in a one-room dwelling beside the mosque to select the next village chief, I couldn’t help but think, “How on Earth did I get here? And where else could I ever have had this experience?” It really is priceless.
Lots of love from Benin, and more news to follow…
I returned from my post visit in Penessoulou last night, so I have lots of news to share about my post and about my trip. I’m trying to write some of this on the French computer at the internet café because I want to try to post some photos on Facebook while I type, so please excuse any typos!
We left for post on Wednesday morning. It takes a good day’s worth of travel to reach Penessoulou from Cotonou (if you leave by 9 a.m., you might get there by 5 p.m., depending on the road conditions and your means of transport), but on a bus the journey is not entirely unpleasant. I was fortunate to travel most of the way with two other volunteers posted nearby, and our Directors (school principals) accompanied us on the way up – so aside from the heat, lack of bathrooms, and various engine troubles en route, it was actually a pretty nice and uneventful trip :) haha.
Penessoulou itself is quite small – just a strip of low buildings lining the Goudrone (“good road”) linking Cotonou in the south with Natitingou in the north. Its permanent fixtures are a mosque, a tiny church, a small health center, the primary and secondary school complexes, and three buvettes (go figure). The CEG (College d’Enseignement Generale, equivalent of junior high in the U.S., where I will be teaching) is a little ways out of the town “center” and consists of three one-story buildings with 5-6 classrooms each, plus a small office for the Director and Censeur (Vice-Principal), a basketball court, and a soccer field, all surrounded by cornfields. There is a weekly marché in Penessoulou, but I’ll have to travel to Bassila to get most supplies and to find a post office, a bank, and an internet café.
That said, I’m really happy to be posted in a small village rather than in a big city like Cotonou or Porto Novo. The cities here are wild– crazy motorcycles cram the roadways and pollute the air, vendors line the streets hawking their wares, women in colorful tissue (fabric) stride with baskets balanced on their heads and babies strapped around their backs, and children (and animals – goats, chickens, dogs)run about as they please. People are generally very friendly and saluer people as they pass, however, we – Peace Corps volunteers – stick out like sore thumbs everywhere we go and are greeted instead with shouts of “Yovo! Yovo!” (white/foreign person in Fon), or worse, the “Yovo” song: “Yovo, yovo, bonsoir, ca va bien, merci, donnez-moi un cadeau.” The song was taught to Beninese children by the French during the colonial period in an attempt to teach them French, and, as the song suggests, if children sang it the French would give them gifts – thus it has all sorts of negative connotations, in addition to being pretty obnoxious and tiresome. I like to tell the kids singing, “Je ne suis pas Yovo, je suis Beninoise!” but I don’t think they believe me…haha.
My house is about a two-minute walk down a dirt path from the Goudrone, and is, as I had heard, quite grand for one person even by American standards – I have a salon, two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom with a toilet and shower area (although no running water), and a porch. The house is at the moment entirely empty, so I need to get a lot of furniture (and visitors!) to fill it up (no small feat considering that a lot of things can only be bought in the south, but I shall persevere haha). I also really want to get a dog to keep me company! Most people here use dogs as protection rather than pets and as a result the dogs I’ve seen have been kind of wild rather than friendly, but my Director has a really nice dog (named Rocky haha) so I’m hoping I can convince him to help me find one like him.
Since my house is unfurnished, I stayed with my Director and his family – his wife, Catherine, and their two daughters, Grace (4) and Lydee (2), his wife’s two younger sisters, Bernadette and Ossila, and their domestique, Guira – while I visited. They were all very hospitable and friendly—Catherine is a tailor and she made me an AWESOME modele (skirt and top) in Yayi Boni (President of Benin) tissue (I don’t have pictures yet but just wait til you see it); they fed me lots (they raise turkeys and chickens in their yard – which, if you know how much I love birds, was mildly terrifying, but I mastered my fears haha); and they were really nice when I came down with a cold the second day and just needed to sleep for a while. (However, I must admit that I’m looking forward to having my own space and not feeling bad when I don’t want to eat food, be sociable, or play with screaming children - but I have to wait a bit for that!)
My Director, M. Ponou, seems great so far – excited to have me and eager to make improvements in the school and community. He considers himself a bit of an outsider in Penessoulou (he is from Porto Novo, originally), so he understands a little of what it’s like to be new and not villageois and is making a conscious effort to encourage the village to adopt me as their own, always remembering to introduce me as “notre etrangère” (our foreigner) and telling everyone we meet that I will be living in Penessoulou for two years (emphasis on two years).
It was during these many introductions that I felt for the first time confronted with the reality of my service—two years teaching English in a remote village in West Africa?! How crazy is that?! But it’s exciting, too. When M. Ponou brought me in to meet the village elders, who were at the time gathered in a one-room dwelling beside the mosque to select the next village chief, I couldn’t help but think, “How on Earth did I get here? And where else could I ever have had this experience?” It really is priceless.
Lots of love from Benin, and more news to follow…
Monday, July 28, 2008
I'm alive!
Bonsoir tout le monde! Greetings from Porto Novo, capital of Benin!
I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last wrote – we haven’t had very much internet access since we arrived in country, and I have a lot of trouble typing on the French keyboards in the internet cafés, so I’m writing this post on my home computer and will try to find my way to a café soon to put it online. I’ll write more frequently from now on, I promise!
It’s hard to believe that I arrived in Benin just over three weeks ago – the past several weeks have been such a whirlwind that it feels as though we’ve been here for months. The Peace Corps keeps us very busy with training during the day (we have class from about 8-12:30 and 3-6 Monday through Saturday…which might not sound like much, but it’s pretty draining!), and we spend the rest of our time with our host families learning about life in Benin and practicing our French (or in my case, speaking a lot of franglais and serving as a source of great amusement for my host sisters).
My host family is awesome. I have a maman, a papa, and five sisters: Anick (28), Nadia (25), Mureille (23), Geofride (20), and Dona (14). Anick’s daughter, Kadol (3), and Mureille’s son, Femi (1 ½), live here as well. My maman runs a petit magasin from the front of the house and sells a little bit of everything – tomatoes, laundry soap, flip flops, charcoal, etc. My papa is a retired gendarme who now has a shop in town where he sells construction supplies. Anick and Mureille work at NGOs, Nadia is working towards her Maitrise (roughly the equivalent of a Master’s) in international community development, Geofride is studying English at University, and Dona is in 3eme at Lycee. Anick, Nadia, and Mureille take me out with them to boites and buvettes on the weekends (the first Friday I was in Porto Novo we got stuck at a boite until 4 a.m. because there was a voodoo ceremony going on outside…but that’s another story); Geofride and I work on French/English together; and Dona teaches me how to do things around the house (or rather, she puts up with my total incompetence in all things practical). Femi is adorable, and Kadol is my best French teacher (mostly because she repeats things until I figure out what she’s saying and do whatever she wants haha). Maman doesn’t understand half the things I say in broken French and thinks I’m very silly, but she goes along with it. Papa is slightly elusive, but he does take me with him to faire du sport (which for him means to go for long marches across town) some evenings, which I really appreciate since it’s hard to work out during the day and it’s too dangerous for me to go out alone at night.
I’m really lucky to have such a large family, especially one with so many girls around my age. Occasionally, it’s overwhelming – par example, when I’m trying to study French and Femi and Kadol burst into my room screaming – but mostly it’s comforting and makes me feel like I’m at home. Nevertheless, I’m definitely looking forward to being at post and having a little bit more "me" time.
Speaking of post, I got my post assignment on Friday and I couldn’t be more pleased! Beginning in September, I’ll be teaching English in Penessoulou, a village in the Donga region in mid/north-west Benin on the border with Togo. The nearest "big" towns are Bassila (which just got a new cyber café!) and Djougou, and the closest Peace Corps workstation is in Natitingou. I’ll be the first and only volunteer in my village, but there are a few other volunteers posted in the surrounding area so I shouldn’t be too lonely. From what I’ve heard, my house is pretty grand by Peace Corps standards – I have a bathroom with a toilet and a shower, a kitchen with a sink, a porch, AND a guestroom – what luxury! (I’d better have lots of visitors!) I’ve also heard that the director/principal of my school is really nice (I get to meet him tomorrow) and that the people in the region are very welcoming. I really don’t think I could have asked for anything more!
In addition to receiving excellent post news, Friday was a fantastic day all around because I celebrated my first birthday in Africa! (Thanks everyone for the birthday wishes!!) I had no less than THREE cakes (vanilla in the morning and two mango in the evening…mmm), was sung to on multiple occasions, received a package of Hobnobs and other goodies from Lauren in Scotland, got lots of phone calls from the States, and feted the occasion first with PCVs and then with my host sisters at a local buvette. I had been a little nervous beforehand that having a birthday here so soon after I’d arrived would make me feel homesick, but it actually ended up being one of my best days here so far.
Alright, I do actually have to stop writing because we have a big day tomorrow (meeting the directors), but hopefully this gives you a little idea of how I’m doing. I’ll write more about life in Benin soon! Until then, I love and miss you all and hope to hear from you soon if I haven’t done so already!
I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last wrote – we haven’t had very much internet access since we arrived in country, and I have a lot of trouble typing on the French keyboards in the internet cafés, so I’m writing this post on my home computer and will try to find my way to a café soon to put it online. I’ll write more frequently from now on, I promise!
It’s hard to believe that I arrived in Benin just over three weeks ago – the past several weeks have been such a whirlwind that it feels as though we’ve been here for months. The Peace Corps keeps us very busy with training during the day (we have class from about 8-12:30 and 3-6 Monday through Saturday…which might not sound like much, but it’s pretty draining!), and we spend the rest of our time with our host families learning about life in Benin and practicing our French (or in my case, speaking a lot of franglais and serving as a source of great amusement for my host sisters).
My host family is awesome. I have a maman, a papa, and five sisters: Anick (28), Nadia (25), Mureille (23), Geofride (20), and Dona (14). Anick’s daughter, Kadol (3), and Mureille’s son, Femi (1 ½), live here as well. My maman runs a petit magasin from the front of the house and sells a little bit of everything – tomatoes, laundry soap, flip flops, charcoal, etc. My papa is a retired gendarme who now has a shop in town where he sells construction supplies. Anick and Mureille work at NGOs, Nadia is working towards her Maitrise (roughly the equivalent of a Master’s) in international community development, Geofride is studying English at University, and Dona is in 3eme at Lycee. Anick, Nadia, and Mureille take me out with them to boites and buvettes on the weekends (the first Friday I was in Porto Novo we got stuck at a boite until 4 a.m. because there was a voodoo ceremony going on outside…but that’s another story); Geofride and I work on French/English together; and Dona teaches me how to do things around the house (or rather, she puts up with my total incompetence in all things practical). Femi is adorable, and Kadol is my best French teacher (mostly because she repeats things until I figure out what she’s saying and do whatever she wants haha). Maman doesn’t understand half the things I say in broken French and thinks I’m very silly, but she goes along with it. Papa is slightly elusive, but he does take me with him to faire du sport (which for him means to go for long marches across town) some evenings, which I really appreciate since it’s hard to work out during the day and it’s too dangerous for me to go out alone at night.
I’m really lucky to have such a large family, especially one with so many girls around my age. Occasionally, it’s overwhelming – par example, when I’m trying to study French and Femi and Kadol burst into my room screaming – but mostly it’s comforting and makes me feel like I’m at home. Nevertheless, I’m definitely looking forward to being at post and having a little bit more "me" time.
Speaking of post, I got my post assignment on Friday and I couldn’t be more pleased! Beginning in September, I’ll be teaching English in Penessoulou, a village in the Donga region in mid/north-west Benin on the border with Togo. The nearest "big" towns are Bassila (which just got a new cyber café!) and Djougou, and the closest Peace Corps workstation is in Natitingou. I’ll be the first and only volunteer in my village, but there are a few other volunteers posted in the surrounding area so I shouldn’t be too lonely. From what I’ve heard, my house is pretty grand by Peace Corps standards – I have a bathroom with a toilet and a shower, a kitchen with a sink, a porch, AND a guestroom – what luxury! (I’d better have lots of visitors!) I’ve also heard that the director/principal of my school is really nice (I get to meet him tomorrow) and that the people in the region are very welcoming. I really don’t think I could have asked for anything more!
In addition to receiving excellent post news, Friday was a fantastic day all around because I celebrated my first birthday in Africa! (Thanks everyone for the birthday wishes!!) I had no less than THREE cakes (vanilla in the morning and two mango in the evening…mmm), was sung to on multiple occasions, received a package of Hobnobs and other goodies from Lauren in Scotland, got lots of phone calls from the States, and feted the occasion first with PCVs and then with my host sisters at a local buvette. I had been a little nervous beforehand that having a birthday here so soon after I’d arrived would make me feel homesick, but it actually ended up being one of my best days here so far.
Alright, I do actually have to stop writing because we have a big day tomorrow (meeting the directors), but hopefully this gives you a little idea of how I’m doing. I’ll write more about life in Benin soon! Until then, I love and miss you all and hope to hear from you soon if I haven’t done so already!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
On my way!
I'm off to Benin tomorrow! After what seemed like weeks of good-byes and two days of training in Philadelphia, we're finally ready to go. I'm nervous, but I can't wait to get on the plane! It's going to be an incredible, if challenging, experience, and I'm eager to get started.
I'm not really a blog person (I don't usually read them and I'm not really sure what to write in one), but I think that this could be a good way to let friends and family know what I'm up to in Benin, so I'll give it a shot. I'm off to sleep now, but I'll write more once I arrive in Africa!!
I'm not really a blog person (I don't usually read them and I'm not really sure what to write in one), but I think that this could be a good way to let friends and family know what I'm up to in Benin, so I'll give it a shot. I'm off to sleep now, but I'll write more once I arrive in Africa!!
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