All Vol Monday, Mar 31 2008 

We just had our “All Volunteer Conference,” aka “All Vol,” the past five days at the nicest hotel in the land, Hotel du Lac.  I don’t really know what to say but “wow.”  Quite the place.  The only good pizza I’ve had in country.  A full-size pool with diving platforms.  Draft beer!  It was certainly great to hang out for a few days.  I met some volunteers I never knew existed, too.  And, yes, we did do some work, including some fundraising.

Houègbo will be a little hard to go back to – but, then again, it’s home.  It’ll be good to be back in our own beds.

We’ll just miss the pool, hot showers, and A/C.

Assorted Observations Saturday, Mar 22 2008 

It’s now rained a total of three times since Thanksgiving; although, today, it threatens to  rain again.  We should be rejoicing, of course, as our cistern refills, signalling the end of having to spend money for dish and shower water.  And, we are.  But, as fall foliage in New England signals the start of 6 months of cold and clouds, so the increasing frequency of rain here signals 6 months of mud.  So it goes.

When it’s been dry for a while, you realize that banana-tree leaves rustling in the wind sound just like a light rainfall.  Then you remember that here, there is no such thing as a “light rainfall.”  Rain here sounds like the roof is going to cave in or blow off and comes in drops the size of marbles.  Bananas themselves, contrary to what one might think, grow up, like handfuls of fingers reaching for the sky.

Phoebe’s been away all this week, giving me incredible amounts of time to read (since work is hard to come by and I don’t (yet?) have Beninese friends to pass the time with).  I’m starting a recommended-reading page (see link, left, whenever I get it up) so that, if you can’t get enough info from our and others’ blogs about what it’s like to be in PC-Africa, you can read what people with stories interesting enough to be published have to say.

Fluency in a language is hard to attain.  My French now is at the point where I can generally make just about any point I want to – only occasionally getting tangled in pronomial, composed-past-tense twists – and usually understand what people are saying to me or anything I might have to read on the average day.  Yet, I struggle to read a newspaper, and I still say things like “he would” when I mean “he will” and don’t know the genders of a lot of nouns I use every day.  I’ve also finished my grammar book, entitled The Ultimate French Review and Practice.

The artisans want me to become fluent in Fon.

We have bats.  And rats.  The bats occasionally become trapped in our house.  They’re small, and they eat flying insects.  They also leave a lot of guano in a couple places where we’re unable to seal the drop-ceiling up with duct tape.  We’re waiting for the Peace Corps health & safety guy to come ’round and tell us how to fix this problem.  The rat, or mouse (s/he’s in between the two in size in American terms) feasts on whatever, save onions, might be accessible in our kitchen.  S/he also is able to eat whatever bait I put on the trap without setting it off.  So much for rat traps, but I’m a little wary of poison.  Maybe we’ll get a cat.  There’s also a mystery rustling over by the fridge that’s been going on for a few days, which might be one of the above, or possibly a lizard.  I’ve been, as yet, not so daring as to go rooting through the cement bags and plastic bottle collection to find out.

The Real Thing Saturday, Mar 22 2008 

A couple weeks ago, Phoebe and I had two experiences we thought Peace Corps would be like.

Wednesday, we went to Colli, our postmate Erin’s site, to build a foyer amélioré, aka a mud stove, for her Women’s Day fête on Saturday (see pictures). The purpose of these stoves is mainly to reduce consumption of fuel – i.e., wood or homemade charcoal – which reduces deforestation and therefore “sahelization,” the process by which Africa’s equatorial countries turn into savannah and, in the long run, Sahara. Other benefits include keeping babies from falling into the fire and the fact that mud is free.

Colli is a loose collection of villages out in the bush. Erin is a health volunteer posted at the UVS, a villageois health center. It’s the kind of place most PCVs dream about. People bring her pineapples. Much of the population speaks only local language. There’s no electricity and thus much less music blasted at speaker-busting levels. And, the voudoun (voodoo) adepts keep the old religion going.

Our project started in the afternoon. We chose a spot and, with the help of a couple kids, set to gathering terre rouge – “red dirt,” or clay. After piling it up near our spot, we mixed in some brush and then got the water to make mud. As three foreigners will inevitably do here, we soon attracted a crowd of kids, who soon joined in helping us mix the mud with our feet.

A man dropped by and expressed happily, “Ah, you work like us Africans!” I told him we had adobe back in the States. Yuka learnt that some people still use it to build houses (it’s good insulation). The kids continued to mix the mud and form balls to stack and make the stove.

One little girl, Christienne, was my favorite. She really had an eye for the consistency of mud and where to put the balls. She also made a pretty good foreman, instructing the other kids (some of whom were older than her) how and where to mix the water and dirt.

The project took a few hours, and we hoped it would turn out alright. Sadly, ironically perhaps, it rained the next day, which meant that even though it didn’t wash away (happily), the mud was still too wet for the stove to be used.

Last Saturday was the International Day for Women, for which Erin advertised free baby weighings, food, and moto-riding.

I helped out a little with the baby weighings, helping to figure out babies’ ages and the weights of the smallest ones. The basic point of a weighing is to get women to come to the health center – a point normally lost in Colli because the UVS mysteriously charges women for them. No matter. Saturday’s weighings, subsidized by Erin herself, helped some mothers realize that their children were malnourished and allowed a teaching moment where they learnt what to eat or feed their kids to help them get up to weight. Sadly, some kids are very malnourished; however, it was great to see a number who were at a healthy weight.

The food, as with a few events I’ve seen here, was less of a success – not for a lack thereof, but rather of a shameless stockpiling to take home for later. One can hardly blame poor people for wanting to supplement their diet for food provided free, but that’s not why we’re here with the Peace Corps, and it wasn’t why the food was provided. Handouts help only those who receive them only for the time they last. Remember that old saying about teaching men to fish? [ end of soapbox stand ] Not my fight this time, however, and there was enough for everyone in the end.

Finally, the motorcycle-riding sessions were a success. They were apparently the brainchild of Erin’s Beninese counterpart and were directed at given village women – who generally have to walk to and from the marché and everywhere else – a chance to realize that, if given the opportunity, they too can ride motos. Many women took part, making for some happines, hilarity, and a moment of hysteria when a duo came careening into the lot and crashed into the wall. Thankfully, no-one was hurt, and the moto suffered only a couple broken mirrors.

All in all, a long, interesting, and Peace Corps couple days.

( See pictures of the moto event. )