With Visions of Frosties in Our heads

Frosties, you say? Pourquoi pas? One of my fellow trainees was talking today about how we should all email certain companies, such as Wendys, and explain our plight. What would this accomplish? He`s hoping that we would be fortunate enough to get them to send a Frosty machine. We dont necessarily have any place to put it, and supplies would be difficult to obtain in a place that doesnt even have a McDonalds, but it would be the gesture that counts. So anyone out there who wants to help in our "cause," thank you. Now here's what's been going on chez moi for the last three or so weeks.

I've tried to write on this thing several times, but the power never seems to want to stay on long enough for me to submit. So here it is, three weeks of drastic change all boiled down into a few paragraphs. A lot's happened since last I updated. My host family gave me a Boomba, which is the local form of African garb. Think of zumas pants circa 1983 and a long pajama shirt made with stiffer fabric and a lot of pockets. Then throw on any random pattern you can think of. Seriously, think of any pattern. People walk around all day wearing full body garments with horses, the president of Benin, President Obama, dolphins, Michigan, sports teams, or any other thing imaginable plastered all over their persons. So, in essence, I'm encouraged to wear garb akin to pajamas while teaching classes of 60 Beninese students (between the ages of 12 and 25). A terrible fate? Not at all. People have manages to get all sorts of western garb tailored here. And while the fabric is different from that normally found in the states, my biased perception believes that many of the volunteers could actually pull it off. Girls, mind you. Probably not so much the men.

I've thoroughly enjoyed the food here, but anyone who knows me won't be too surprised by that. I eat pate, a Beninese staple not unlike nothing, and delicious fish every night. Sometimes I come home and see tonight's avian dinner flopping around on the floor (sorry, Dad), but it's always enjoyable. My host family always squeezes me fresh pineapple or orange juice. I don't know - what have I to complain about? Come visit, if you feel up to it! I've visited my post now, and it is gorgeous...

My post, where I will be spending my next two years, is in the village ok Kemon, which is in the eastern Collines, which is a hilly region in the middle of Benin. Literally, collines translates into "hills" in English. Thus, and this is actually quite rare for volunteers, my village lies at the base of a cute colline. the collines should not be thought of as hills so much as giant mounds of earth jutting randomly from the ground in otherwise flat and lush terrain. It is so green - the verdant hills of scotland come to mind. The village has only 3000 people, but I can apparently get everything I need. Electricity? No way. Running water? Uh-uh. Cell phone service? Usually. but I was lucky enough to spend three nights in my future home with the volunteer who served before me (for three years!) Rachel is incredible. She actually assumed the role of an administrator in her high school, she built and contracted a brand new library, and she speaks better African French than any other foreigner I've encountered. What will I do, following on her heels? Whatever I can. I'll smile a lot, maintain her legacy and teach to the best of my ability. Rachel has breakfast (fried cake or a porridge-like dish) pretty much delivered to her door every morning, and she makes the most delicious meals. chickens and goats sometimes wander into her home, too. The place has two beds, a large living room/workspace, an outdoor latrine, and a walled off back area where she washes clothes by hand and takes buclket baths with rain water. coincedentally, for most of the year it is also possible to get all of your drinking water from the rain water that collects. and at night you walk around by candlelight. Romantic? Meh, but its what I was hoping for. I'll be there in less than a month, if all goes as planned.

We'll be teaching Model School for the next several weeks at a local high school. Right now I'm teaching 4eme, which is the third year of English for most students. Our class right now has about 40 students, and I'm teaching about an hour a day to start. Have all the lessons went well? Not at all. But at least I can see how this could be fun. Gotta start somewhere! Plus, it was great to see how respected Rachel was in her community. People really respect teachers, and everyone was very sad to hear that she will be leaving. Very sad. But its encouraging to me. They speak Nagot there, which is a branch of Yoruba, which is apparently spoken in some parts of Boston, which is cool by me.

So I just playes soccer with the boys down the street and my fellow volunteer Jamie. I love my street, and a good portion of the people have started to call me M. David instead of Yovo, which means "white" in Fon, the local language. It's very enchanting, this place. Call if you can! Or write letters, or emails, or text me! and if you want to send little packages, I will be forever greatful. And whoever sends me a moonpie will be my all-time hero.

Thank you for following. Hopefully I will be able to update sooner next time. I miss you all. Let me know what's going on in ya lives!