On the Road Again

So Mark and I took to the streets this week on our bikes to work out our itinerary for the upcoming Borgou Bike Tour. This is what we knew about where we were going: nothing. Didn't know where we'd eat, where we'd sleep, or whether or not the roads we were relying on even existed (the best map we have was drawn in 2000). After an exhausting taxi ride that placed us in Tobre, where a volunteer presently resides, we took off at 3:00 to try to make it 40 km before finding a place to sleep in a town called Sinende. Here's what we found:

And our room for the first night...

Apparently there's a fete every year at the start of the dry season where people take to the streets to swing burning tires around, effectively lighting all of the dry brush on fire. A very eerie experience and quite a surprise given that it was going on outside of our window.

Dichotomy

This is my father. He begrudgingly still lives in upstate New York. Here's a little song he created to express his feelings on this matter:

The the tune of "Oh where oh where has my little dog gone?"

Oh why, oh why do I still live up North?

Oh how, oh how can it be?

We were sposed to move when MJ retired,

But our house wouldn't sell if twas free

Oh why, oh why do I still live up North?

Winter's hell, I'm sure you'll agree,

But we're stuck up here, no place to go,

Because of the e-co-no-my!!

Here's a picture of me, taken the same day, out front of my house. This is the cold season. I don't have a song, but my face says enough. (Don't worry, I'm eating well...)

So the December weather is indeed the coolest that Benin has to offer. It's called the Harmattan, a word invoking images of twirling dust clouds and Beninese dressed in hats, gloves, parkas, and yes, even scarves. The West African trade winds blow south from the Sahara to the Gulf of Guinea, where I am. Yes, visibility is severely impaired. Yes, even your toothbrush will be covered with a thin layer of dust between uses. Yes, it does actually get cold enough that some mornings you don't want to shower. Wait, scratch that, you don't feel an overwhelming urge to take a shower to remove the sweat. You do want to shower... and you do shower. It's just not compulsory.

Here is our guard, Pedro, in the later hours of the morning. Meaning some key elements of the Harmattan getup have been discarded.

In short, I want to wish everyone a happy December. Us, we're listening to Merle Haggard and rigging up the lights just like the rest of y'all on the other side of the sea. So, on behalf of the men of Parakou, I'd like to wish the happiest of holiday seasons to you and yours.

...December?

Not sure what happened to November. Between amped up work, traveling, and visitors, the month seems to have slipped through my fingers in what is unfortunately going to be the probable trend for the next year.

Been souping up the workstation over the last month with fans, lights, compost piles, new security measures and, hear this, wireless internet. High speed, no less. Unfortunately I'm presently without a computer charger, so the wireless aspect is lost to me. Thus it's "same same but different" encore.

Been working a lot with the new "Institute of Fine Arts," not yet opened, which is located next to the workstation and aspires to be the largest museum of ethnomusicology this side of the Nile. It's there that we are going to celebrate at the end of our three-day Family Planning Borgou Bike Tour in February. There is toooons of work up here in Parakou, entirely different from my life last year. In short, life is ideal. As events approach, I'll provide more specific details regarding particular endeavors.

I may be asking for some financial assistance soon for a series of youth camps I want to help organize in the Spring. I'll keep all y'all updated as I find out more. Yeah, this is vague. This is vague. Sorry.

Julie Ann Clark, one my best friends from college, had the opportunity to visit Benin for two weeks last month. It was really awesome, and I took the opportunity to visit 2 places I'd been meaning to visit for a year. For the most part, we stayed in Parakou and saw some of the sites around the city, but our village sorties were memorable. She's a trooper, that one, and she's off to visit our other friends in Senegal before (hopefully) continuing on to see her old village in Mauritania. Godspeed, girl.

Will upload photos as soon as my comp's back up. Somehow, all of my electronics were recently reborn, like an early Christmas. Thus, I have a camera again for the first time in 2 months.

Happy Holidays!
-Dave

Après moi, le déluge

As some of you may have heard, there has recently been some terrible flooding in the southern regions of Benin. We're actually getting international press, which is not exactly a common occurrence, as you may have noticed. While this has only manifested itself, for me, in some traveling delays, other volunteers have been caught in the thick of it.

Take Ivy Walker. She's a volunteer in a village called Zangnanado, about 4 hours south of me. She's been working relentlessly, organizing information sessions and emergency distribution of necessary sanitary items in the villages surrounding her. 6,000 villagers in her village ALONE have been displaced by the flooding, creating the kinds of scenes shown in this picture below (taken by Ivy).

Here are the specifics of the effects:

• 51 out of 77 communes in Benin have been affected. Verdict: Worst flooding since the country's independence in 1960.
• 100,000 Beninese are without homes, 60,000 houses have been destroyed, and 300 schools have been rendered useless
• Malaria and cholera, conditions both exacerbated by stagnant water, are of grave concern

So Ivy and others have been distributing water treatment packets, mosquito nets and rehydration salts to effected villages. They've also been constructing emergency latrines so no more harmful waste is introduced into the already polluted waters. Ivy also helped organize a youth soccer tournament for students who are unable to attend school to boost morale. There's lots going on, and I'm appreciative of every volunteer who's been around to help alleviate some of the hardships.

Another volunteer, Sarah Binder, is working with CRS, an organization working day and night to ensure villagers in the south have enough clean drinking water and simple grains. If you feel a desire to help out, CRS is accepting donations:

Catholic Relief Services

228 West Lexington Street

Baltimore, MD 21201-3413

(410)625-2220

Please indicate that the funds are to be allocated to the Benin Flooding Response. You can also donate online at crs.org. This is only for those of you feel compelled, I'm not directly involved in this part of the country. For more information, visit this BBC article.

Thanks everyone, and have a safe and happy Halloween!

'Til I Reach the Highest Ground

The disparities between my life this year and last year are too numerous and too comprehensive to adequately impart in a blog entry. Suffice it to say, my amenities and responsibilities have undergone an exponential increase, but my community contacts have kind of taken a precipitous tumble. That being said, life is good because I can take showers without sacrificing drinking water and I can listen to music without worrying about my MP3 player dying. Doesn't seem like much, does it?

So with what do I fill my days? I have a phone that all volunteers can call if they have any inquiries. I can typically call them back free of charge, but I seem to always run out of credit well before the end of the month and end up fielding calls with my personal phone. The duty phone has been described as the "One Ring" from Lord of the Rings - it brings a lot of freedom and power, but it's also a bit of a daunting responsibility. But what isn't? I field questions, send out security updates (i.e. Travel to Niger is restricted between such and such a date), coordinate the regional shuttle, communicate with local officials, etc. etc. all with this little mobile.

It's kind of fun to work with Beninese carpenters, tailors, masons, and electricians to fix things/make improvements around the workstation. There's a new basketball hoop, a new satellite, new light fixtures, curtains, and broken glass for the perimeter "on the way." All of this is supposed to be completed within the next week or so, but I'll call it a success if two of these objectives are completed. As always, one must exercise patience in order to maintain sanity.

While the workstation takes most of my time, there's also a wealth of opportunity outside these walls. My family is supporting a couple of my best students from Kemon going to school up here in Parakou, and I've been working a lot with Ibrahim, an enterprising university student who's the head of the Beninese Volunteer Corps. We're working on expanding the program, planning this year's Borgou Bike Tour (biggest ever?), working on the big Gender and Development fundraising weekend that's coming in February, among other ventures. He's been showing me around the local branches of UN entities, as well as getting me in to see local government reps. He really is a diamond here, and I'm thankful to have him. He also has considerable ping-pong skills.

So I'm off to do some post visits of regional volunteers, but I'm also slipping in a visit to an annual Whipping Fete going on a few hours from here. As far as I know, this is the only fete of this kind, and I'll give you my appreciations in a few days. Gearing up for Halloween, too. I can't disclose what Mark and I are going as, but here's a little snippit of the conversation with the taylor.

Me: So, we want to do something a little strange. Give a brief description of what we want to do.

Taylor: You want... what? I don't understand.

Me: Here, look at this. I draw a picture of what we're trying to do.

Taylor: I need to reflect a bit. At this point he deals with two other clients while we wait patiently for his reaction.

Taylor: Ok, I'll need some time for this. I'll do one step and we'll see how you feel after that. Ok?

Seriously, Mark and I couldn't stop from laughing throughout this entire experience. Can't wait to fill all of you in next week!

-D

Money or Learning the Art of Patience

I know I've alluded to certain facets of the role money plays in Beninese society, but I want to shed some more comprehensive light on how African values manifest themselves in everyday transactions.

The currency used here is called the CFA, used in 14 french speaking African nations. It comes in many denominations, but the ones most commonly used are 25, 50, 100, 200, 500, 1000, and sometimes 2000. The CFA also comes in 5000 and 10000 bills, but these are relatively useless, especially in small villages, since no one claims to be able to give you change for them. A loaf of standard baguette-like bread costs 125 francs; a typical lunch of rice, beans, and cheese or meat costs you around 250; and a large soda will cost you 400-450 francs. It's pegged to the Euro, and has been appreciating recently, giving us a much worse exchange rate (presently about 467 CFA to the dollar).

A typical villager here spends their days dispensing and collecting small denominations of CFA, probably hundreds of times a day. 25, 50, and 100 CFA pieces are subjected to countless transactions between vendors on the sides of the road. Take, for example, a typical trip to my little market last year in Kemon.

Me (after salutations): I'd like to purchase that garlic.

Lady: Small or large bag?

Me: Small please. How much is it?

Lady: 25 francs.

In village, this wouldn't require bartering. Normally a small tit-for-tat would ensue, especially on larger items.

Me: 25 francs. I only have a two thousand CFA bill. Do you have change?

Lady: No change.

Me: So what are we going to do?

At this point, after putting on a show of disapproval, the women will either reach into her pocket to pull out small change or hand the bill to a kid, who will run to another stall to get the change. Very rarely will there actually be no change.

Lady: Here you go.

Me: Can I have this in a plastic bag?

At this point, either she would produce a black plastic bag or send a child to another stall to buy plastic bags.

You can also go to stalls, ask for an item and then wait while they go to another stall to buy the item and resell it to you. If you're friends with the lady, usually called a tanti or maman, they'll sell it to you for little or no profit. Honestly, they treat you well here, but it sometimes gets frustrating having to barter, act annoyed, make demands, etc. when all you're trying to do is give them money. Rarely does an attempted transaction end in failure, but it sometimes seems like they don't actually want to make money if it's going to be a minor inconvenience. This is especially puzzling to a born-and-bred capitalist.

Money that is ripped or worn is usually refused. The only way to get rid of this kind of money is to give it to beggars or unsuspecting volunteers. Worn money can usually be transfered at a bank, but you have to wait in such a long line that it is rarely worth it.

Try to go to a zemidjan (one of the seemingly endless supply of motorcycle taxis used in Benin) and demand a price that would be reasonable for a Beninese to pay. Most of the time, the bartering will start at an outrageous price, at which point you balk, feign incredulity and give him an equally outrageous price. This will go on until you see a slight tilt of the head indicating that you've agreed on a price. Down here in Cotonou, many of the zems will just drive off after you give them the original price. They'd rather leave and maintain their pride than accept a reasonable price from someone who has so much money. Yeah, it does make one reflect a bit, but it's a difficult concept to understand for a Westerner here.

Money amongst friends is an entirely different story, and I'm not going to touch on that here. Next time, maybe. Next time.

Been Lookin' so Long at These Pictures of You

Christoff Herby is a fellow PCV based here in Parakou. He's working to help put a national Moringa Association on the map, but he's also a very talented and ambitious photographer. For those of you who aren't familiar with this obscure but important West African staple, Moringa is a nutritious tree that has much to offer in terms of nutrients to help stave off some of that ubiquitous infant malnutrition. But anyway, the point of this blog is to draw attention to his upcoming project. He'll soon be embarking on a motorcycle journey with a friend from his old village who happens to be Fulani (see previous blog entry). Here is an example of some of his work.

Take a look at his photo blog if you're interested. www.quietgriot.com He has up some pretty cool videos with ambient noise from markets and certain volunteer events, some of which have involved the participation of yours truly. So pictures are free to look at, but he's also searching for a little financing for his upcoming trip, which will include 18 countries in West Africa. If you choose to buy a print, you'll be able to choose from any of his uploaded photos taken during his overland voyage, and this will be delivered to you upon its completion. Easy-peasy.

Happy surfing!

-D

The City of Everyone

Welcome to Parakou, the 2nd largest city in Benin. Home to 200,000 Beninese, this city has one of the largest universities in the country, a HUGE market with tons of fresh vegetables, miles of fabric and a meat section with every type of viande found in this country (including cats).

Parakou means "La ville de tout le monde" or "The city of everyone" in Dendi, the most-heard of the dozens of languages spoken in this city. In fact, just walking through the market I get pumelled with the nasal Nagot I spoke in my last year, the puncuated Fon spoken mostly in the South, and the much smoother Dita Mari, Bariba, and Dendi spoken in the northern regions. This can be overwhelming, even for someone who's now lived here for over a year, but it's tough not to appreciate exactly how special Parakou as a whole really is.

Take, for instance, the food that's now available. There are enormous yams throughout all of the northern regions of Benin, but only since moving here have I had a steady supply of ripe tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant, cabbage, sweet potatoes, peanut butter, green beans, carrots, and squash. The only available food last year, and this was hardly consistent, were onions, tomatoes and okra. I can thus throw together a delicious meal in a matter of minutes. Mark Sawran, a fellow Central New Yorker, and I have been taking advantage of this a few times a week.



Parakou also hosts a number of markets selling "chouk," a type of beer made from millet and drank from a callabash. We apparently have the largest chouk market in West Africa, which I guess could be extrapolated to the largest in the world. It's a great opportunity to sit with some locals who may be a little more open than in less innebriated environments. You can actually see the fermenting happening in your cup as you drink it - the center appears to be boiling. But it's actually quite decent.

Here's some volunteers in a chouk stand in Parakou on our way to watch the first U.S. game of this year's World Cup.

This is a photo of some Fulani girls selling tissue (fabric), as recorded by Christoph Herby, a fellow volunteer stationed here in Parakou.

The Fulani, or Peuhl, or Pulaar, are a nomadic tribe found all over West Africa who have a monopoly on the cow supply. They thus are the go-to people to get your hands on some milk, beef, or yogurt. There is also a meat market by Mark in a section called Guema, where you can get your hands on some select beef or goat for about 2 USD.

Honestly, this city is my favorite place in Benin. It's not the prettiest, or the biggest, nor does it supply the most amenities, but it's a great place to be able to live and work.

Frustration? Not really.

Hey everyone, as is usually the case, something went wrong with the internet while I was writing my last blog. I'm out of time now, but I just want to let everyone know that I'm well-situated here in Parakou and that life is going great! I'll be able to update this again in a few days. Hope everything is going well stateside! -D

In the end, it's always music

Singing and dancing is a part of everyday life in Kemon, and in Beninese culture in general. Here are a few videos of the stunning colors and sounds from the students at my school in Kemon.




This was taken at the Liberation ceremony for apprentices at my next door neighbor's shop. This is a typical Fon dance.








This is the presentation of gifts given to the Mistress at the end of the Liberation Ceremony.





Another example of Fon dance. This particular girl has especially punctuated movements.







This is a bunch of my favorite girl students performing during the opening ceremony to our cultural days last May. The clip is a bit rough, but you get the idea.

The only living boy in New York...

It's an interesting thing, being back Stateside. It's not a cultural shock, it's not a "regression" into who I was before I left, it's not exactly a more acute awareness of American consumerism/efficiency... it's just different.

It's absolutely fantastic to be back with my friends and family. My parents and Ali were there waiting for me at the end of my 20 hour expedition, and we continued on to Boston, where I participated in some of the more touristy excursions in the Hub. Nachos, draft beer, hamburgers, MILK, and a visit to Trader Joe's, my old grocery store, rounded off those perfect couple of days. Coffee now makes me irrevocably jittery for the better part of the day, so I think I'll not take more than a couple sips every morning for the duration of my stay. Here are some views from my time back home: Stateside Photos!
(note: you do not need to be a part of the facebook phenomenon, or need a login, to look at these pictures)

Back in Benin, I last updated on the day that the new trainees were arriving. It's been a whirlwind since then. I hosted my replacement, Michael, who is going to do really well in Kemon. I hosted a party for my friends in village which lasted for a few days, and I moved all of my things to my new home, Parakou, which is in a different department in Benin. Goodbye, Collines; hello, Borgou. Life is good right now, if a bit hectic, and I'm looking forward to my new job next year. The new stagiaires seem to be a bit stronger than we were on the whole, so Benin should have a good couple years ahead of it. (photos: July/August 2010, May 2010, Camps of Summer/World Cup pics)

So that's my life up until now. I've got a little over a week before I head back to work another week of training for the newbs, who are no longer really newbs, I guess. God bless America. Happy 50th anniversary to Benin. Good luck to all volunteers who are finishing their service while I'm in the States. You'll all be missed, but I'm sure all of you will find success over here.

To the friends and families of the present trainees, morale is high! You have reason to be proud of all of them.

Summertime, and the livin's easy... ?

Been moving around a lot recently, which is definitely not a bad thing, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to explain to my community that I'm actually working when I'm away from post. Anyway, it's now been about a month without a single day off, barring the one day when we played the Germans in soccer (which resulted in a tie, which is as good as a victory in my book), and we all ended up so torn up from playing on a concrete/dirt combo terrain that I'm still feeling broken up two weeks on.

My cryptic and cynical recent post about the hurdles facing girls has been remedied. While many hurdles still exist, this one particular instance that got me so worked up is now a nonissue. In short - I'm happy. I had the great chance to work during the 1st ever Boys Camp in Benin in Ouake, a post on the border with Togo. It was an incredibly rewarding experience, and I had some great company from volunteers that I'd previously not gotten to know. We focus so much on the empowerment of girls that we'd previously neglected to share our experience/knowledge with the male half of the population. And while there are definitely fewer hurdles facing males here, in general, they are FAR from perfect, and display an equal need for some extra attention as the girls. Anyway, I want to thank the volunteers in that region (Heidi, Rut, Sarah) for recognizing this disparity. It was a pleasure.

Now down in Cotonou for PCVL training. I feel... clean. Going to be moving around quite a bit as I work during the first two weeks of stage, which is always busy, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again. This much is sure: it is going to be a shocking moment when I see myself, one year back, in the 60 new arrivals this Friday. It's been a bumpy ride, but everything is right at the moment. The road ahead is by no means smooth, but it's worth the troughs to get to the peaks. These are my thoughts at this landmark moment, when we become the experienced volunteers and welcome the freshies to their new life.

I love the Peace Corps. I encourage any listless graduates to seriously consider this path.

Then again, my opinion may be entirely different by the next time I post to this blog.

Ya never know! See you all soon!

Facebook Pictures

Since I can upload facebook photos much easier, just follow this link for a more in depth view of some of the events I've been describing here. Just click the following link:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2538044&id=901097&l=f97d1397bd

And that's it! Happy summer, everyone! I'm in Cotonou right now for PCVL training, then the new stage arrives on Friday. Can't wait!

May/July Pics con'd.

Yoga led by PCV Norah in Ouake. This was the first boy's camp ever held in Benin, as far as we know. Crazy, but true, and an overall success.

This is the result of a good day's work at my friend Obden's post in Tchaourou. I'll be conducting the same project at my school in a couple weeks!

Borgou Bike Tour 2010!

Bike Tour. This was an awesome weekend during which we hit about 10 villages to teach them about water sanitation, hand washing, and general hygiene. Skits, information sessions and community participation were a must. The ride was long and beautiful. Here are a couple pics! For more pictures of my life, I would suggest logging onto Facebook and checking out the photos I uploaded there. The uploading process is way faster. To upload a couple photos here, I literally have to wait about a half an hour.

Mark and I with a man, with a coin.

One of the villages along the way.

Nobody Said it Was Easy

The end of teaching. The first of the summer camps. Goodbyes. Hellos. Periods of transition are always difficult.

But I've been caught off guard.

I participated in my first Camp GLOW last week (Girls Leading Our World), and I was honored to have met so many capable and driven young students from all across the region. To have so much energy and ambition concentrated in one place, it was truly a spectacle. We quite literally NEVER stopped singing, so you know that I was content. :) We talked of health, sexual harassment, AIDS, and support networks. Of Moringa trees and Planet Earth. Hectic, exhausting, and one of the most touching weeks of my life.

But for every successful monument built there's always a shadow cast. I truly do not yet understand the Beninese manner of collaboration, compromise, and adherence to rules. As far as I can tell, anything goes, and things that were certain one day will be cast into doubt the next. The end of the school year is a time for relief for those who successfully pass onto the next grade. For those who repeat a year, however, it's a trying time. If they don't pass after the second year, they will be unable to return for a 3rd year. What this means is their schooling is over. But some professors lack a backbone, and tribalism still weighs heavily on people's decision-making processes.

I know I was warned about this, but when a girl is told she will pass into the next form one day, and she comes to school the next day to find all the scaffolding has crumbled...

God bless this country, but life really just straight up isn't fair sometimes.

Sorry for being cryptic. I don't know how better to describe this situation without making accusations that shouldn't be made. I have a heavy heart today, and am trying to keep busy.

No need to be concerned, but life can be frustrating here. Thank God I'm keeping (really) busy over the next couple months, and then I'll get to see the majority of you during my trip home in August. In the mean time, happy summer! And happy 4th of July! And, of course, congratulations to my mother for FINALLY reaching the end of her teaching. There's always plenty of kids over here that could use a dedicated educator like you!

Don't Slow Down

It's been a week of highs, lows, small successes, tomfoolery, bitter disappointments, and - in the midst of it all - a moment of complete clarity. This is what the culmination of a year of cultural integration and English instruction feels like. Cultural Days are school-initiated parties (of sorts) that are meant to unify the student body and celebrate the end of the school year. While the activities differ from school to school, student participation is surprisingly high across the country. My most persistent trouble-makers channeled some of their listless energy into some pretty impressive cultural dance routines, skits, soccer matches, and songs. It seems hard to believe, but some of my most timid girls have really amazing senses of humor outside of the classroom.

I am going to miss all of them. My heart breaks when I think of the many hurdles faced by my brightest girls in this country. But there are those who are able to receive good grades, diligently complete homework assignments, cook meals, wash clothes, get water from the well (about a half-mile away) several times a day, and still manage to sport a smile that can lift me up from my gloomiest moods. This is the power of the Beninese mindset. Fortitude of mind, attitude, and the refusal to let the adverse reality of their lives get them down. Some of those girls... they may be the people most deserving of my respect, if not awe.

Apparently a year in Benin has changed my perspective a bit. I can't wait to participate in the girls empowerment camp in Parakou next week. More details on that later.

I promise to post pictures next week. For now, I need to get back to post to teach my last class at CEG Kemon.

Some of you who'd previously received many letters may have noticed that they've tapered off a bit. Sorry! But I'm rarely alone anymore, and it's only getting busier, so know that you are always on my mind.

Happy Summer to everyone. Two months from today, I'll be setting foot on American soil.

Telling Anecdote:

I go out for drinks with a few teachers from my school on Tuesday night. Between us, five beers are consumed. I pay for it all by giving five thousand FCFA to the server, who tells me she can't give me change because the manager is out. So there remains two thousand, five hundred FCFA.

Wednesday: a teacher tells me he's going to get my change and he'll bring it to me. He comes to my house, tells me that they still didn't have change. But they did have a two thousand FCFA bill.

Dialogue:

"So I just had another beer so they could have exact change."

"..."

"Well, see you later!"

Fin.

I Don't Know Why You Say Goodbye, I say Hello

Beninese children have an adorable way of saying "au revoir" if they see you going by on a bike. But they'll always forget to say "Bonjour." Just an observation. Absolutely no relevance. I believe it's because that's how greetings are exchanged in Nagot if someone is quickly going by. It's always "Oh-dah-bo" instead of "Cabo!" I mean, can you believe that??? :)

This is what happens when you do a bike tour to "sensibilize" the villages in Benin. A bike tour consists of 3 or 4 days, hundreds of kilometers of biking and about 10 stops in villages along the way to teach them about family planning, health, hygiene, etc. Ours was dealing with hygiene, and it was A LOT of fun. This is Mark and a Beninese volunteer, Mubarak, pretending to be sick from eating contaminated yam pillet. Mark subsequently "pretended" to have diarrhea. It was a crown pleaser. I later did a sketch where I was an amoeba unaffected by water but deathly afraid of soap. It did not escape us that we will probably never be able to make such asses out of ourselves again. I'm sure my father will disagree with that statement.

These are my neighbors, and a family that I spend a lot of time with. They're really good to me, and I usually go to their house to eat bouille in the evenings, a kind of porridge that involves a lot of sugar and some little fried dough balls on the side.

These are the Beninese volunteers who accompanied us on the bike tour. The one in the front is Abraham, and he is really an incredible man. I'm hoping to work with him in Parakou next year. This picture was taken when we were broken down on the road, which happened at least 10 times on the way. Result? 3 hour taxi ride turns into a hour taxi ride. These types of things don't even phase you anymore.

My school year is quickly coming to a close, and with it will come the end of my being a teacher in Africa. At least the end of my teaching formally; I fully expect to continue teaching English clubs or test preparations for students in Parakou. But as it comes time to turn the page, I inevitably am looking upon my present setting with greater fondness. While I don't think there has actually been a change in their comportment, I'm looking at everyone and everything with "I'm leaving"-colored eyes. Thus, I'm appreciating the food, spending more time wandering around, dancing with the locals, laughing with the locals, laughing at the locals, getting laughed at by the locals, embracing the "look at that crazy white man" role, and then I'm actually doing a lot of work. Things are really busy now, and they're only going to get busier.

Take a look:

June 13 thru 16: Training for the Peer Support Network in Cotonou

June 20 thru 26: Camp GLOW for young girl leaders in Parakou

June 29 thru 30: PCVL training in Cotonou

July 2 thru 6: Camp Espoir for young boy leaders in Ouake

July 7 thru 9: National Spelling Bee in Natitingou (!!!)

July 16 thru August 1: Training new PCVs in Porto Novo

August 16 thru September 3: HOME!

September 4 thru 11: Training new PCVs in Porto Novo

While these places will mean nothing to anyone except my father, I'm going to be a bit of a jetsetter. What this amounts to is a limited time left actually in Kemon. But all is well. All is well.

Oh-dah-bo!

Malaria Dreams

So it's been awhile since I've been able to write anything even remotely detailed. Sorry. But now, due to some extenuating circumstances, I have a bit more free time with the internet. As the title suggests, I am sick with malaria. Now, this is not so uncommon among volunteers, and almost all locals contract it at some point. Rachel, the volunteer who I replaced, had it. Several volunteers in my stage had it. And now I do. It's not so bad, at least not 24/7. But when the symptoms hit, mostly at night, it's on. Sweats, shaking, strange visions, and an inability to tell the difference between actual events and those that were dreamt. I have a very vivid recollection of a volunteer giving me a recipe that involved eggs. But there was no volunteer there. Banal, yes, but you get the point.

Anyway, since sickness hasn't been consuming my life for my blogless past month, I can give you some other tidbits of information. To start, after a round of interviews, I was given the position of PCVL (PCV leader) in Parakou for the next year. What eventually led me to this decision was my lack of love for the teaching conditions in Benin. I'm a little less patient than what I think is required, although I'm told that I do a good job. There will be someone replacing me next year in Kemon, so I'll be able to visit whenever I want. I'm going to deeply miss many of the people there, but at least its not goodbye forever. The hard part will be informing them. Since I want to tell my principal first, I was planning on doing it on Monday. Fate intervened in the form of malaria and delayed the meeting, so that still is pending.

PCVLs are regional supervisors, basically. I will visit peoples' posts, address any problems/concerns, work on new site selection, and manage the workstation in Parakou. I also am required to start my own initiatives outside of the PC world. There are several volunteers who have started projects or have ideas, and there are plenty of opportunities to find work in Parakou. This will hopefully allow me to focus more on the business development aspect of the Peace Corps, but I hope to also continue teaching in the form of correspondence and English clubs at local high schools. That being said, I'm excited. Thanks to the efforts of Kyle, the present PCVL, the workstation just moved out of its rat-infested predecessor and into a newer, nicer location with a facade like that of a Swiss Chateau.

I'll try to post some pics of other things I've been doing, but I have no way to upload pictures on this desktop. :( Happy Cinco de Mayo to everyone!

Happy Easter! And Happy Birthday!

First of all, Happy Easter. And Happy Birthday, David Morse Cowell! It's his 60th. That's a milestone, I think, especially since he still made it even after coming to Africa during the hot season. I spent mine in the Natitingou Region, and it honestly was one of the most memorable in recent times, if only because of the stark contrast between the place where I spent it and my normal environs. We spent the weekend in the beautiful region of Bekoumbe, where a volunteer named Carlan works with local entrepreneurs. And the shuttle just arrived, so it turns out this is just going to be a quick little greeting.

Sorry that Butler lost that game, though. 'Tis a shame. We were all cheering for you.

Baby There's a Shark in the Water

So another member of my a cappella group has decided to take the Peace Corps plunge. This time it's Austin and his wife Brooke. There are a lot of benefits to serving as a couple in the Peace Corps, and I wish the both of them the best of luck. The married couples here seem to be very happy, and also seem to be getting a lot of work done. So much of the endless bantering could be avoided if I didn't have to explain why I have no wife and kids. Although it's usually a fun exchange, it gets a little old when the community members ask you every day why you don't have a wife. "Well," I say, "I just don't have one. I may look old with this beard (I don't) but I'm actually very young. In America (blah, blah, blah, etc. etc.)." Well, the two of them are going to be great volunteers. Austin is one of the wittiest writers that I've ever encountered, and I look forward to reading his blog (honestly). Anyway, the point is that they are going to be serving somewhere in the Caribbean. "The Caribbean," you think, "How fortunate!" But here are a few holes I immediately poked in their argument:

1. Haiti is in the Caribbean.

Actually, that was only one hole, but I believe it's rather significant. While I'm not saying Haiti is a bad post (I'm quite sure that Benin is actually poorer), I just wanted to put forth the idea that NO Peace Corps post is easy. However, interestingly enough, Haiti was the second Republic formed in the Eastern Hemisphere. There will always be poverty, you will always confront hunger, and your living conditions are almost never as comfortable as they were in the States. But it's all a wonderful experience, nonetheless.

I'd like to take a moment to point out the many ways in which my village resembles a tropical paradise:

1.) Palm trees are ubiquitous.

2.) It is all sand. And not deserty sand. It is sand in the midst of a tropical forest.

3.) People are often drunk on local millet beer and grain alcohol, and all villagers walk around in cheap flip-flops.

4.) People are always lounging in the shade of trees, which bear the fruit of mangos, papayas, limes, and other tropical fruits. These are also in my back courtyard.

5.) The weather is always warm (understatement). It never rains.

Reasons why my post is not like a tropical paradise:

1.) There is no water.

But that one counterargument is enough to make my village a hardship post. The fact that there is no water (and no electricity) debunks the entire possibility of Kemon being a paradise. We are presently in the (somewhat lofty) process of installing electrical wires and water towers in Kemon. I do not believe that I'll reap the benefits of these services during my time in Kemon.

Lost of work going on right now. Congratulations to the Gender and Development program here for staging a successful pair of evenings here in Parakou last weekend, during which they earned a lot of money for the funding of PCV projects relating to gender. I'm in the process of applying to use some of these funds for a project I plan to do with my students.

Offshore drilling, health care, student loan overhauls. Exciting time there in the States. RIP, 'Cuse. Seems so far away...

Your Candle Burned Out Long Before...

Kate. She was a volunteer in Benin - an education volunteer, to be exact. Yesterday, we celebrated her remarkable - and remarkably short - career with a touching ceremony of music, photos, and heartfelt first-hand accounts. For many people it was a chance to finally say goodbye to their beloved friend because, you see, the funeral held exactly one year ago was rife with confusion and grief. The confusion persists, as does the grief, but the majority of volunteers who swore in at her side have since departed, and there wasn't a person in my stage who ever met her. But it's not for lack of want, and we all feel as if we have.

Kate stood up for what she believed in. Plain and simple. She was buttressed by her friends and a proper sense of justice, propelled by boundless energy and positivity, and surrounded by purpose. Or so we hear. And so we see, through blogs, tears of friends, and photos of an ever-present smile.

We arrived, last July, in a flurry of uncertainty. Up until the point that our plane touched down, volunteers here in Benin had serious doubts that they would receive any new volunteers. The program here would, in effect, be shut down. Volunteers also thought that, upon learning of Kate's tragic fate, many of my fellow stagiaires would wish to leave. For the most part, we're still here. And thriving. And we're all better off for having known of Kate's existence. I'm not kidding - she was a very special person. So this blog is for her memory, and to give the sincerest of condolences to her friends and family. Her memory will live on forever through the efforts and spirits of volunteers across the globe, and it will be especially vibrant here in Benin.

For more information, visit her blog: http://beinginbenin.blogspot.com/

Pictures from Kemon and Parakou Feb. 2010

Dad teaching English songs to class

Claire facilitating a discussion group at in-service training

Homologues and PCVs at inservice training Feb.,2010

Dad and me with my home stay family at Songhai centre

Mr. Etibaio, my Dad, Mr. E's girfriend and Mr. Edone, my homologue

close range English instruction

"supermarket" from the bus window

Me with neighbors Ruth and Moreni on the back stoop

Triple potty

Late night dinner prep

Dad's Benin bedroom

Laundry Day

My 3 year old neighbor Ruth having lunch with my Dad

Me using African broom to sweep front porch

... So Take Off All Your Clothes

It's hot. And it's not the heat most of you are used to. It's 100+-I-want-to-tear-out-my-sweat-glands-everyday type of heat. Ask my father for a more in-depth and pain-filled description. He keeps telling me that he enjoyed every minute, but his sweat glands were in hyperdrive, so I'm quite sure that, in retrospect, he will admit that there were moments that were less-than-enjoyable. Even the villagers are complaining.

So I saw my father off this morning. As far as I know, he is in Morocco right now, possibly delayed due to the BLIZZARD in New York. Talk about traveling from one extreme to the other. This past week, while working with our Beninese counterparts in Porto-Novo, we saw updates of both the Winter Olympics and the blizzard in the Northeast. Forgive me for finding it difficult to commiserate. My father shared the same sentiments. But it was great to catch up on some of the current events on CNN, even if most of them are less-than-positive. For instance, it was intriguing to know about the new front against the dangerous shape of hotdogs. Who knew? Apparently the shape makes it easy for the entire hot dog to get lodged in a child's throat. I guess we can no longer cut up a hotdog for our youth, or teach them to chew. And Obama and McCain are still bickering at each other concerning health care. Except for sleeker Apple inventions, I suspect that the world to which I will return will not differ greatly from the world I left.

But I digress. My father and I had a great time, even though bureaucratic school meetings poked a hole in our plans to go on a safari. But my father said that he accomplished his two goals: to see my village and to spy on me for my mom to make sure I was safe. The verdict? I'm safe and warm! But we had a wonderful time. I'll leve it to him to write about our times together. I'm giving him unfettered access to upload photos to my blog. Enjoy! And happy March!

I Just Can't Wait to be King

So here's a quick update to provide concrete evidence that my father has indeed arrived. I always eat yam pillet, or pounded yam, at the same woman's stall for lunch on the way back from school. Her neighbor usually places this darling child in my arms, always exclaiming that she is so happy to have me as a future son-in-law. Of course, she is implying that this newborn will someday be my wife. In Africa, in fact, she could be my wife within the decade. However, I always tell her that we need to go out on a couple dates first, in order to get to know each other.

Don't worry, Mom, the dates won't actually occur...

But you can find solace in the fact that my father has encased his future daughter-in-law in his protective embrace - the same embrace in which he, in turn, is held by the villagers of Kemon.

No, I cannot remember the little girl's name. It might be Candice. I don't know.

And my father has already received a local Yoruba name. Its pronounced "Ah-kay-bee," and it means that he is the good father of many. Mine is Arremoo (roll the R), and it's the name given to the future successor of the king. Since my village does, indeed, have a king, this name still has relevance in Yorubaland.

Teach Your Children Well...

Hey everyone. So, my father and I have gotten off to a good start. Although much of this week has been spent "resting," he is seeming to be more alive today. Little by little, the bird makes its nest. He's acclimating well, and seems to have increased my popularity in village by 234%. He's hardly been left alone by the multitudinous infants of Kemon, but I'm expecting that to die down a bit in the coming week. I promise to upload pictures from some of our adventures next weekend. In the meantime, here are some pictures of the academic side of my life. Happy Valentine's Day!

This is me, obviously in one of my classes, trying to obtain a correct answer from my student Rodrigue. The methods employed in Benin in order to ensure discipline are slightly more... up close and personal. It's necessary when all of your classes include 50 or more students.

This is Idayatou, buttressed by Martine, hamming it up for a photo session. We have fun.

I recently submitted this photo to the Improper Bostonian in hopes of getting our photo put in the free Boston periodical. If you have any pull with this Boston staple, maybe you could put in a good word for me and the students of my English Club. My favorite part, which is barely visible: in red on the blackboard, someone wrote "God help we!" I'll promise to step up my teaching efficacy.

Kemon in the morning. Some days, my home is almost unrecognizable. This was one of those mornings.

Put It In Drive and Set the Cruise Control

Below is another picture from the Malian mask ceremony we were lucky enough to witness. The guy in front brings to mind the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

This is an ancient Dogon village on the side of an escarpment. No one lives there anymore.

This is a staged fight between two of my students taken during my English Club. Can't work all the time :). For more information about the club, see below (especially Mrs. Artz's class).

Shown below are my English World Club students, working diligently to write letters (in "English") to Mrs. Artz's class at Leighton Elementary in Oswego. That's them waving to all of the students who sent letters from her class! The letters were humorous, and a lot of them were just copying the sentences that Mrs. Artz's students had written, but I was actually very impressed with some of their work. I mean, come on, these kids are in the equivalent of 7th grade and they were able to correspond in English. I love it. To the students at Leighton, expect to see some of these letters soon! Sorry it took so long, but keep the letters coming.

This is CEG Kemon, where I teach. The teepee is there to protect what I believe are burgeoning mango trees. No, there are no doors and windows on this building, but there are in the other buildings on the school grounds. And believe me, you really appreciate the open space on a hot day, which is every day.

This is me in my Tuareg getup in front of a Dogon village in Mali. Awesome.

A Hazy Shade of Winter

My English club is finally underway! If you find yourself sitting at a restaurant or bar, perhaps reading this blog on your Wifi-enabled cellular phone, be sure to toast the fine students of CEG Kemon who were generous enough to make my first session a rousing (if somewhat tardy) success. Here is a recap of what was and will be done (hopefully).

My partner in this endeavor told me that he would pick me up to bring me to the club on his moto. I hesitantly agreed, but I believe that he is far more punctual than my other colleagues, and decided to leave my timely arrival in his hands.

He didn't come. Well, he did eventually come, but he arrived at my house to pick me up approximately 15 minutes after our club was scheduled to begin AT SCHOOL, a mile away. Needless to say, I had since given up on this mode of transportation and biked the way, no doubt uttering not-quite-inaudible choice phrases under my breath en route. And when I arrived, 4 minutes late, I found that I was alone. No, not even the crickets were chirping.

But they came. Little by little, 15 out of the 17 invitees arrived, the last one arriving slightly past the 1 hour mark (thus giving him less than a half hour to actually BE there). But I was happy to get anything after my initial shock of the empty classroom. Coincedentally, my late partner, who is also a teacher at my school, arrived 30 minutes late and then proceeded to chastise those who arrived even five minutes later than him. "Why are you late? We started at 13h30." I bit my tongue.

So here's the gist of it. My club is entitled "The English World." I wanted to have an English club, to which I could invite my most promising students, but I didn't want it to focus solely on the production of English words and the study of the language. I decided to bring this into a more personally-intriguing realm by incorporating an element of geography. I was thus able to teach English structures and idioms while also expanding the students' knowledge of how English fits into this big, confusing world. Here's the gimmick: each week, I will work with three or four students to prepare a presentation, probably in French, about a certain English speaking nation. We can incorporate a bit of history, a bit of economics, talk about commerce and opportunities available in each nation, and also prepare dances or food to create a world that can be more literally "experienced." We will start with the mother of all English nations, if I do say so myself: the U.S. That will take place next Wednesday. After that, we will continue with Nigeria, then England, then Ghana, etc. I'm really looking forward to the research and the preparations. Plus its a rare chance to give students the opportunity to showcase their creativity in front of a group of peers. I'm really hoping that this first group will go off without a hitch. One of my best students, Benoit, was chosen for this group, so I think it may be a successful trial run.

I'm trying to import books right now for the school library. If ever you send a package and have a spare French-English dictionary handy, I would be forever grateful if you would be so kind as to slip it in the package. It doesn't need to have considerably difficult vocabulary... Also, if anyone has any ideas about organizations to partner up with in order to import French novels, I would love to chat with you. Things are starting to move now that lockdown has been lifted, and I'm really looking forward to the new opportunities afforded by internet access, no matter how dodgy it is.

Congrats to BU for defeating the BC Eagles in the hockey match held IN Fenway Park. Amazing show, I heard. Also, a group of education students from SUNY Oswego are here tonight, so I'm going to meet up with them. The coincedences were too numerous to pass up this chance to meet them in Porto-Novo. A group of Oswegonians... in Benin... here to study the education system. What are the freakin' chances. It's a beaufitul life.

Mali!

Had a great vacation in Mali with my fellow volunteers Brad and Sarah, as well as my friend Ali who was able to fly in from Dubai. Mali is like Benin but different. There are certain things that are plentiful in tropical Benin that you can't get in Mali, which consists of mostly desert terrain. Mali certainly has more Muslims than Benin, and there seems to be more of a developed music scene there, but I've yet to explore the back alleys of Cotonou's music scene so I guess I should wait to pass judgment. One things for sure: Mali is gorgeous. Above is a picture of my friend Brad exchanging some words with a native of the Dogon Country. When you meet an elder on the route, one must give him/her a cola nut, which is a (slightly addictive) caffeinated nut that supposedly serves as a mild hallucinogenic. I tried one, but all I got in return was a sick stomach. I suffered some intestinal difficulties for about 11 of the 12 days while we were on vacation. Can't win em all!

These are some performers in an ancient ritual dance performed in the Dogon Country. All in all, there were approximately 40 or so performers, including the musicians. A story was told, but don't ask me to pretend that I am able to recount the tale. The colors were pretty, though. Local women and children were forced to maintain a safe distance from the performers. What would happen if they were caught sneaking in too close? Some guardians would charge them with sticks while letting out a battle cry.

This is a village in the Dogon region of Mali. These villages are rustic, to say the least, and possess a lingering charm. Although there are many tourists these days, vehicles are unable to reach these havens, and the villagers have thus been able to continue practicing their simple styles of life into the modern age.

Hope you all enjoyed your holidays! I know I did. Best wishes to all, and may this new year and decade bring only good things to us all.

-Dave

Something Familiar...

1.)This is my neighbor Moreni (sp?), sitting on the terrace outside of my house. You may notice that the environment is a little... drier than it was in my previous posts. We're in the middle of a dry season that will last until about May. How dry? We can expect to receive absolutely no rain until that time. Yikes! Sorry the pic is turned 90 degrees, but it takes way too long to upload these with this internet connection.

2.) The road to Kemon! That's the hill around which my village is situated.

3.) Thanksgiving slaughter! This is the duck in our Tur-Duck-Tard.