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.