It's the beginning of the end. Well some would say that beginning started three months ago when the first plane carrying Peace Corps Volunteers from my training group left Cotonou. Others might say the end began back in May when we had our Close of Service confrence in Ouidah. But even after all of that I am still here. I've watched as my fellow volunteers and friends have one by one left and now it is finally my turn. Well it will be shortly. This Thursday, with my rented taxi full of all the stuff I've collected during my time in Benin, I will leave my home for the last two years and begin the journey towards Cotonou. I will spend the night in Parakou and continue on to Cotonou on Friday.
I'm not ready for this. I thought I was. I thought I'd pack up and leave here a little sad but excited about the next big thing. Well I'm still waiting for excitement to hit. Everyone says oh you must be so excited when I tell them about my post PC plans, and well, a couple months ago when I made them, I was. Now, I'm scared. Of what I am not exactly sure. I guess it's due to the general uncertainty that always accompanies change. Today me and Kelly (she is the volunteer that is incharge of the local office we keep in Kandi) moved a bunch of my furniture from my house to the office so that when the new volunteers come they can take what they want. Packing up really made me realize that this is over. I'm not going a trip somewhere, I am leaving for good.
Tonight or tomorrow I'm throwing a dinner for myself and my work partners. I bought us two chickens and some yams (to make yam pile) as well as some cheese (wagashi, it's nothing like what any of youwould consider cheese to be). My work partner and her daughter are going to prepare it and then we are all going to eat together. It will be a nice way to wrap things up I think.
There is so much more I want to say. It's been a really good last couple weeks here with a lot going on that I'd like to share, but I'm having a hard time focusing. I guess it will just have to wait until Thursday or Friday. Until then everyone...
Monday, September 14, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Good Morning, Here's a Chicken
So yesterday morning I was woken up by a teenage boy who had been sent to my house to give me a chicken. To understand some of the akwardness of this you have to understand I sleep with my front door open (I have a screen door) and I only sleep in a pagnya (it's like a sheet) because it's hot. So when I'm when I'm startled to awkenness by "Co Co Co" (Beninise version of knocking) the first thing that runs through my head is hold on, gotta make sure all the important bits and pieces are covered.
Now anyone who knows me knows that I am not at my best and brightest first thing in the morning or basically upon waking up. I start out like a cave woman useing monosyllabic noises to communicate and gradually progress to being able to make full sentences. So when this guy shows up with a live chicken on my doors step somewhere between 7 and 8 am I'm more than a little confused.
He explains to me that it is a gift from this guy I know who lives on the other side of my village (I found out later it was ment to be a going away gift since we had talked earlier about how I only had a couple weeks left in my village) The boy obviously wants me to take this chicken that has been bound together at its feet and is currently handing from his fingers. I very obviously don't want to take the chicken. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to eat the sucker, but I don't want to touch it, kill it or really have anything to do with it besides the eating part.
I remember being told by other volunteers who bought meat that often they would buy an animal and then bring it to someone in the village to kill for them and in exchange they would share some of the meat. I figured this would be a good plan of action for me as well. So I explained to the kid that I had no idea what to do with a chicken but if he would kill it for me I would gladly share the chicken with him. He seemed like he understood what I was saying when he walked away. It was only later that I found out that he didn't.
That afternoon I show up to my health center only to find out that upon leaving my house the boy went to the house of the pharmasit who lives just down the road from me and basically told him that he had tried to give me this chicken and that I didn't want it. Buhari, the pharmasist, figured this couldn't be right and told the kid so. He then instructed the kid to bring the chicken to my work parterns house and have them take care of it. Thankfully that's exactly what he did. My work partner Safia had her daughter kill it and cook it for me. This had all happend before I went to the health center I might add.
I was doing Karem or as we know it Ramadan so Safia invited me back to her house to eat dinner with her and her family. The fried chicken was there waiting for me to take home. Thankful that Safia's daughter Rebeka had taken care of the chicken for me I shared it with her, Safia and Safia's son and still had a couple pieces to bring home. Yum Yum Yum
Now anyone who knows me knows that I am not at my best and brightest first thing in the morning or basically upon waking up. I start out like a cave woman useing monosyllabic noises to communicate and gradually progress to being able to make full sentences. So when this guy shows up with a live chicken on my doors step somewhere between 7 and 8 am I'm more than a little confused.
He explains to me that it is a gift from this guy I know who lives on the other side of my village (I found out later it was ment to be a going away gift since we had talked earlier about how I only had a couple weeks left in my village) The boy obviously wants me to take this chicken that has been bound together at its feet and is currently handing from his fingers. I very obviously don't want to take the chicken. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to eat the sucker, but I don't want to touch it, kill it or really have anything to do with it besides the eating part.
I remember being told by other volunteers who bought meat that often they would buy an animal and then bring it to someone in the village to kill for them and in exchange they would share some of the meat. I figured this would be a good plan of action for me as well. So I explained to the kid that I had no idea what to do with a chicken but if he would kill it for me I would gladly share the chicken with him. He seemed like he understood what I was saying when he walked away. It was only later that I found out that he didn't.
That afternoon I show up to my health center only to find out that upon leaving my house the boy went to the house of the pharmasit who lives just down the road from me and basically told him that he had tried to give me this chicken and that I didn't want it. Buhari, the pharmasist, figured this couldn't be right and told the kid so. He then instructed the kid to bring the chicken to my work parterns house and have them take care of it. Thankfully that's exactly what he did. My work partner Safia had her daughter kill it and cook it for me. This had all happend before I went to the health center I might add.
I was doing Karem or as we know it Ramadan so Safia invited me back to her house to eat dinner with her and her family. The fried chicken was there waiting for me to take home. Thankful that Safia's daughter Rebeka had taken care of the chicken for me I shared it with her, Safia and Safia's son and still had a couple pieces to bring home. Yum Yum Yum
Welcome Book
Each incomming group of new volunteers recieve a Welcome Book designed specifically for their sector with in Peace Corps. (There are four in Benin, health, environment, business and teaching english) The book is mostly designed to introduce volunteers to Benin but a letter from a previous volunteer is also included. This year my PC health boss asked me if I would be willing to write something up to be published in next years Rural Community Health Welcome Book. Here is what I wrote:
Welcome to the Benin Family!
Somewhere along the line I must have blinked. The two years that I was once so worried about have passed, and I can’t help but wonder, where did all the time go? Oh yeah, it was spent learning a new language – one that I am now comfortable enough with that I can use to do any number of things from order a meal, to arranging transportation, to explaining once again that it is perfectly normal that white people change color when in the sun too long. Time was spent trying to understand Benin, her people, her religions, her culture and traditions and ultimately what role I wanted to play in them. Arriving at my new home it tickled me pink when kids bowed before me when they would stop and say hello. What was I, royalty? Nope. It turns out that they just wanted to show me a sign of respect for simply being older than them by bowing before me.
The majority of my time here in Benin was consumed with the pursuit of work as well as fun. As a Rural Community Health Advisor I worked with the old and the young, with men as well as women. I weighed babies, made porridge, taught about HIV/AIDS, held classes to help empower young girls, and painted murals on the sides of buildings. I, along with my work partner, Safia, worked to improve the general health knowledge of our community. Through this process we became more than just work partners, we became friends. As I said earlier, a good portion of my time spent in Benin was simply having fun. Now this fun has come in a number of different guises such as sitting under a tree and talking to a local principal, hanging out at my work partner’s house, or chatting with the weavers as they go about their day. Of course there are also the other Peace Corps volunteers. There is not a volunteer in this country who I do not consider my friend, who I feel I could not turn to with a question, a favor, or a need. They have been my family while I have been here and we all know what kind of fun and mayhem one can have with their family. And if all else fails, there is the ever popular volunteer game of “goat or child”. (Don’t worry; you’ll understand when you get here.)
So close your eyes, take a deep breath, and get ready to jump into the adventure of a life time. You won’t regret it.
Somewhere along the line I must have blinked. The two years that I was once so worried about have passed, and I can’t help but wonder, where did all the time go? Oh yeah, it was spent learning a new language – one that I am now comfortable enough with that I can use to do any number of things from order a meal, to arranging transportation, to explaining once again that it is perfectly normal that white people change color when in the sun too long. Time was spent trying to understand Benin, her people, her religions, her culture and traditions and ultimately what role I wanted to play in them. Arriving at my new home it tickled me pink when kids bowed before me when they would stop and say hello. What was I, royalty? Nope. It turns out that they just wanted to show me a sign of respect for simply being older than them by bowing before me.
The majority of my time here in Benin was consumed with the pursuit of work as well as fun. As a Rural Community Health Advisor I worked with the old and the young, with men as well as women. I weighed babies, made porridge, taught about HIV/AIDS, held classes to help empower young girls, and painted murals on the sides of buildings. I, along with my work partner, Safia, worked to improve the general health knowledge of our community. Through this process we became more than just work partners, we became friends. As I said earlier, a good portion of my time spent in Benin was simply having fun. Now this fun has come in a number of different guises such as sitting under a tree and talking to a local principal, hanging out at my work partner’s house, or chatting with the weavers as they go about their day. Of course there are also the other Peace Corps volunteers. There is not a volunteer in this country who I do not consider my friend, who I feel I could not turn to with a question, a favor, or a need. They have been my family while I have been here and we all know what kind of fun and mayhem one can have with their family. And if all else fails, there is the ever popular volunteer game of “goat or child”. (Don’t worry; you’ll understand when you get here.)
So close your eyes, take a deep breath, and get ready to jump into the adventure of a life time. You won’t regret it.
I hope that this gives all of you a glimps as to the positive side of what being a Peace Corps volunteers has been like for me.
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