Bike Tour Video

Hey all. Here is a video depicting our experience on the bike tour. Enjoy!

Photos of Recent Happenings: Camp Succes de Tre!

  The girls of Camp Succes de Tre engage in a competition to set up mosquito nets. Mosquito nets are the most cost-effective way of preventing malaria, the number one cause of death in Benin.

 

Girls learn about a balanced diet.

Brigitte donated brand new jerseys to the school, and gave the girls the opportunity to be the first to sport them.

Of course, no camp is complete without a victory parade at the end.

Benny's New Glasses

So Benoit, one of the smartest students I had at CEG Ikemon last year, lives in Parakou now. We see each other often, usually to cook and for me to give he and another student their living allowances. But Benoit has always been a noticeably squinty student. He would always ask to be moved closer to the blackboard, and it never seemed like he could open his eyes very widely. I feared the worst. So we took off to an amazing clinic today that's run by a Scottish ophthalmologist, at which he is able to see around 150 patients every day. Yeah... Here's our morning through the most honest of methods of reporting:

We started our journey by taking a moto-taxi out into the bush. The clinic is located a few km north of Parakou.
The complex is sprawling, and Benoit didn't know what to expect from an eye doctor, but he seemed composed as we approached the clinic.



We had to wait in a sizable line, but we had nothing but time this morning.

Although it appeared that others had a bit longer to wait as they camped out in the shade.


We finally got in to see the doctor.


And they gave him an old-fashioned check up.



End result? Styling! This was all relatively fast and really cheap. Overall, a very impressive organization.

Spreading the Seed

Let's just say that the idea of volunteerism hasn't exactly spread like wildfire, at least not in the way we think of it. Which is why it's such a pleasure to work alongside the Beninese Volunteer Corps here in Parakou. Founded in 2006,the CVB (in French) has worked on various projects throughout Parakou, including microfinance groups, bike tours, health/environmental workshops, and volunteer promotional activities. To be sure, it's going to take a lot of work to institutionalize this venture, and I'm almost positive the entire operation would cease to exist if Ibrahim were to lose interest, but they've grown by leaps and bounds since their conception four years ago.
Ibrahim's done a lot of work to recruit motivated young individuals outside of this city, but I'm quite sure that nobody in any small village will say that they're familiar with the volunteer corps here. First, they lack funding of any kind. While they've become quite adept at writing grants, they still struggle to finance simple things like electric bills (for an extremely tiny office). That's why it helps to start up creative fund-raising techniques like selling tee-shirts at local festivals and offering local language training to volunteers. In this manner, they're able to finance small purchases like this printer, purchased with funds from selling tees we designed last week.
Below, the president of a Groupement des Femmes who work with Moringa sits beside a basin of freshly harvested Moringa leaves.


Here, some local poultry eat feed combined with fresh moringa leaves to make them healthier and more valuable.

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!

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.

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!

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/

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.

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

And Don't Forget to Give Me Back My Black T-Shirt

Actually, I ended up with someone else’s black tee in my bag this week. I believe it belongs to one of our female volunteers. So if you’ve lost a black tee from Old Navy, it’s presently resting at Rohan’s in Parakou.

Simply put, this has been a great week. All of the PSL 22 TEFLers swarmed into Parakou for our PSW (I’m still iffy on the acronym, but it may mean Personal Strategy Workshop.) We stayed in an awesome complex called Centre Guy Riobe, ate copious amounts of delicious food, and were able to catch up and develop some new techniques to try out before the Christmas break. It was reassuring to discover that all of us are going through the same types of problems, successes, and frustrations. It isn’t easy, but there’s always a silver lining. A child’s face reveals the dawn of comprehension or, even better, a desire to learn. A fellow teacher sees me using magazine clippings and songs in class and decides that he, too, wants to cater to the students’ more creative faculties. A woman in the market hears me talking about the possibility of starting a “Savings & Loans Club” and, without my prodding, spreads the word to the rest of the vendors and bolsters support for one of my intended secondary projects. In many ways, life here is easier and more familiar than one would expect.

Take, for example, my cats. I have three. One was left for me by Rachel, and this cat has been instrumental in teaching the other two (named Yawkey and Landsdowne, after the streets surrounding Fenway Park) how to kill the random animals that live in my house. Spiders, crickets, large lizards and mice all fit into this category. I had some problems potty-training them, but I discovered that I need to refill the sand in the litter box every day in order to assure compliance. They’re picky eaters and don’t like to cuddle with me, but I hope all of this will change over the next couple of months.

Then there’s the food. I love yam pillet, which is just boiled yam pounded repeatedly until the starch is an unrecognizable gelatinous disk. You eat it with meat (usually the innards of some local animal) and peanut sauce. Sound good? It is, believe you me. I ate yams of various sorts 5 times within a 2-day period last week. The result was not pretty, but I haven’t learned my lesson; I’m anticipating the yams upon my return to Kemon ce soir. I also eat a lot of rice, beans, tomatoes, and onions, all mixed with various spices either left by Rachel or sent from home (hence my new appeal for various American spices).

It’s hard to believe I’ve already been at my post for over two months. I get along really well with my fellow volunteers, and I’m grateful that most of them ended up being much more down-to-earth than I’d anticipated. I’ll be off to Mali on the 22nd, but I hope to update my blog once more before then. I’m planning on really engulfing myself in my lesson planning over the next three weeks, so hopefully I’ll be able to report some improvements. My friend Ali Cumber is flying down from Dubai (I think) to meet up with us for a few days around New Years. Hope everyone’s Thanksgiving was to their liking. We made a Turducken with turkey, duck, and pentard, and had an enormous spread that rendered all of us relatively useless for the rest of the evening. I killed the duck, which is the first time I’ve ever “killed with the intent to eat.” Don’t hold it against me. Best wishes to you all! -Dave

Roll on, Brother (In the wheel inside the wheel)

Back in the game! I've got a little bit of time since we're up in Parakou for some in-service training, so I FINALLY was able to check my email and log onto (gasp) Facebook. And thus, I am able to write to you at a (quasi) leisurely pace. How are things?!?! Keep me updated on your lives, either through snailmail or email. I'll be able to check my mail more frequently in a few weeks, so I promise to have more of an online presence from here on in.

So here we are. It's been an eventful couple of months at post. Lots of salutations, lots of awkward silences, lots of yelling and laughing and frustrations and pleasantries in the classroom. In short, it's been wavy. But most of the time, I love it. I've been reduced to uncontrollable laughter on several occasions in the classroom. For instance, I discovered that "I slit the sheet, the sheet I slit, and on the slitted sheet I sit" exists solely to try to get the speaker to say "Sh--", and (not surprisingly) it succeeded with my Beninese students. Realizing the terrible mistake I'd made, I kind of lost it in class. It's these kind of moments that make some days easier.

I eat really well here. I mean really well. I bake goods several times a week, and I eat a TON of pounded yams, which has finally started to show in my midsection. But I really enjoy the food. And little by little, I'm outfitting my home with more tables, chairs, and things to put on the walls. If ever you're thinking of sending a package, send pictures or little mementos to hang on the wall, because that's the most integral part of transforming this place from a concrete box to a livable space. So, as one would expect, leisurely time has become "pressed for time." But I promise to write again before I leave Parakou this week. I hope all is well with everyone, and keep me informed! I promise to do a better a job at my end. Work is good, life is good, and we're in the midst of the cool season right now. Can't complain.

Showin' off moves never seen before

When one thinks of Africa, there are a few things that typically come to mind. Perhaps you think of strange piercings, crazy languages, lawlessness and no access to water. In movies, whenever people travel to Africa, there’s always a lot of music with some sick drum beats and people dancing everywhere you turn.

This could not be further from reality.

There is ONE store that often blasts music near my CEG, and that music is usually direct from Bollywood. I always note while passing by that this is what Hollywood had led me to believe Africa would be like. And while it’s ignorant to assume that all of Africa is the same (and, to be fair, I don’t think any films have been filmed in Benin), I always feel a hint of regret that my days can’t be filled with drums and dancing. Furthermore, whatever music I hear now will decrease tenfold once I get to Kemon and lose all access to electricity.

But today, we finally held a cross-cultural session that included a local group and local dancers. They dropped beats and sang songs that were typical to mostly the southern regions of Benin. We all went out and made fools of ourselves (some of us more than others) and danced along with the masters of the craft. Some of us exhibited the white man’s lower-lip bite, while others actually showed that we could keep up with some of the more advanced Beninese moves. I think it’s safe to say that most of the dances resembled the movements one would expect to see from a chicken in the process of laying an uncomfortably large egg. Much fun was had by all, and I was even fortunate enough to receive a 25 FCFA piece from my future post-mate Sarah Ellison. I’m not entirely sure what the significance is, but if someone likes what they see they will stick a 25 FCFA piece to your sweaty forehead. I paid it forward, of course. A 25 FCFA piece is worth roughly a US nickel.

In Kemon, I will need to go to church every Sunday if I would like to participate in this type of rowdiness; church is an event that takes approximately 3 hours and involves nonstop singing. As for the other typical African images made famous by National Geographic, they are valid in various degrees. I don’t see interesting piercings around, but most people I see have scarification on their faces. From what I understand, this involves cutting oneself with a razorblade and placing various herbs in the scar so it will heal in a certain fashion. Second, even in the capital city the water shuts off all the time. And third, there is a considerable amount of lawlessness. I have seen, on several occasions, the Beninese take “law enforcement” into their own hands. Also, public urination is an epidemic. I will not disclose here whether I partake in this mild manifestation of lawlessness.
While I don’t have any pics of the music session, there will be plenty of opportunities in the coming years. If I need to go to church in order to witness this, c’est la vie.

Old Man, Take a Look at my Life...

Some of you may recognize the title of this entry as the lyrics to “Old Man,” a song by Neil Young. I stayed at home with a fever yesterday and spent a little time listening to Mr. Young, for whom I now have a new appreciation. Some of you may know that my father spent some time singing in the Congo with the musical group “Up with People” in the 60s. This blog is dedicated to my father’s experiences in Africa (both past and future) and to his perpetual sense of curiosity, without which I probably would not have experienced half of the things I have by the age of 24. For those who don’t know this song by heart (read: those who aren’t in my nuclear family), 24 is the age of the character in “Old Man.” Coincidentally, this song was also the inspiration for my sister’s Senior Quote in her high school yearbook; for her sake, I will refrain from writing the exact quote. :)
My family has been questioning me incessantly about whether or not I have yet received their multiple care packages. As luck would have it, I finally received two of them on the very day that I stayed home sick (and thus, needed them the most). So I treated myself to some chocolate and a semi-recent issue of The Economist. While my life is affected less than ever by the status of obscure developing nations, it still helps me maintain my sanity to keep up with some news. Thanks, guys!
During the last couple weeks, I started teaching Model School at the CEG (High School) close to my house. We teach classes of more than 50 kids who come “prepared” with but a tiny blank notebook and writing utensils. Funny sidenote: many of the kids also bring protractors, which they use whenever you ask them to copy circles. As a result, it took some students more than 15 minutes (which I did not give them) to copy the few clocks I drew to teach them time. Digital time will have to suffice from now on. We have several different colors of chalk to use on the board, which is nice, but we don’t have much more than that. Last week I taught some 1 hr sessions, but this week I’ve moved to teaching 2 hr classes. My homestay sister, Ravis, is in my class. I adore her and her friends, but the class demeanor brings to mind the YouTube videos of the food fight at OHS last year. There are methods to mellow the atmosphere, though, and tomorrow I’m going to kick a few kids out of class. Don’t be horrified, it’s much better treatment than they might receive at the hands of another teacher. This paragraph has a surprise conclusion: teaching these kids is going to be fun. Challenging, frustrating, heart wrenching and fun.
I’m planning on posting a couple pictures with this post, but it remains to be seen whether they will load in time. The internet is slow here, like the pace of life. A common question one asks at the end of the day is, “Did you do a little today?” The greetings as a whole are humorous exchanges. You are supposed to ask anyone you pass a whole slew of questions, such as: Hello, how are you?; And the morning?; And the house?; And the kids?; And work? As far as I know, nobody ever says that any of these things are less than “good.” This may seem pointless, but it’s necessary if you wish to integrate at all within your community. Most people are able to complete the whole exchange in about 5 seconds anyway, so it’s but a small nuisance. I’m counting my lucky stars thus far, though, because the nuisances have been surprisingly sparse.

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!

Much Ado About Cotonou

Bonjour de Afrique! We landed safely late Friday night, and we had a fantastic welcome from our present PCVs. After a day of training in Philadelphia and almost 24 hours of flying (waiting, flying, waiting), I have arrived in my home for the next two years. I and 55 of my fellow stagiers (trainees) are living in a compound outside of center city, and we are learning little by little what we should come to expect out of the next two years.

Classes thus far have consisted of safety training, wellness exercises, French training, technical training, and small orientations, but most of them have included an ice breaker or two. My fellow volunteers seem to be selfless and respectable people, so I'm quite sure that having them will make the next two years that much easier. In two days we will be heading to our homestays in Porto Novo, where we will live until September 25 (when we will be sworn in, inshallah). Thus, class meetings will be smaller and focused more on my individual sector (TEFL, or Teaching English as a Foreign Language), so I'm quite sure that the "grind" has not yet begun.

You'd be surprised how much you can do here! We will have cell phones, internet access (if we want to pay $200.00 for a special satellite card), and possibly electricity and running water, so the living may not be as tough as some may think. Then again, there are posts that have none of the above, so I'll be sure to keep my hopes securely grounded. Malaria? Haven't even been bitten by a mosquito. Diarrhea? Not even close. Homesickness? Un petit peu. But c'est la vie.

All in all, I can't really say what the next two months will bring, much less the next two years. Just rest assured, things are quite exciting. I do believe Benin will be one of the best decisions of my life. Thank you everyone for all of your support. You've always got a place to stay next time you're in Africa!

This pic is of a few of my new friends here. We keep it light.