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!