A May Update

Things have been pretty relaxed around here, treading precipitously on lazy I dare say.

After IST, I spent a couple nights in Nati to just wind down, use some awesome internet, and catch the tail end of Mango Olympics, the Peer Support Network (PSN) program of the year. I had a very nice time, actually. I streamed the three most recent episodes of Grey’s Anatomy (holy love of all that is holy, that workstation internet is fast!), had myself a few beers with some good friends, and had my fair share of the deliciousness that was the mango pie that Mary made (see last post for da foto). I lounged around with glee, knowing that Imorou, my work partner back in Djougou, was still out of town on formation that I was not invited to (because of the IST business). I also got to talk to Colt for the first time in like A MILLENIUM, which was amazing and very very needed.

Since being back from Nati, I have been feeling a little under the weather. I’m not sure if this is general Peace Corps related apathy (oh no, I have nothing scheduled for months and am just going to DIE here of boredom) or a little bacterial infection. Maybe it’s malaria, but the no fever thing sort of rules that out. That and the insane, liver-destroying prophylaxis we take weekly. So I just gave myself a couple days to chill out. Yesterday, I actually went an entire day without seeing another human being and can I just say that it was lovely? It was my first alone day in like weeks.

Part of my misanthropy is a direct result of my having been robbed. Not like someone broke into my house or anything like that, but my cell phone was stolen from me. I, of course, stupidly left it on the bus on the way back from IST, and when I asked the bus people about it, they were clueless…meaning it has been taken. Which sucks. Honestly, though, I’ve been nonplussed about the whole thing. I mean, I was annoyed for sure, but when I really started thinking about it, I figured that there wasn’t really anything I could do about it, except get a new one. So I came back to Djougou planning on zemming out to the MTN store to try to get a new sim card with the same number. That plan was stymied, however, when I got out of the taxi and discovered that my helmet had been stolen. That’s right, two important commodities, stolen within a week of each other. The helmet thing pissed me off. I demanded the driver find out what happened. He asked for my contact information so he could return it to me when he found it. I, however, HAVE NO CELL PHONE. He promised to bring it to PSI next week, though, when located. He better do it, too. I got his name and number and will be passing it on to the security guy at Peace Corps if I don’t get my helmet back. Walking around this hugely sprawling city is a bitch.

Case in point: It took AN HOUR to walk to the MTN store. In the middle of the day. With the sun BEATING down on me. At least the place was airconditioned. I sat for (ONLY!) three hours and got a new sim card. I was actually pretty happy with the service there, besides the wait. The lady was professional, using the vous form and speaking really fast and courteously, almost like in Americaland. I get my same number, too, so yay for 66.23.91.13 or as we say here “soixante-six, vingt-trois, quatre vingt-onze, treize.” Thank Allah for small favors. Then I walked the hour long walk home at dusk.

I had to leave my ID card with them, though. Apparently their copy machine was down and I didn’t want to wait an indeterminate number of hours because I wanted to get home before dark. So I left it, they promised to keep it safe, and I said I’d go back for it the next day. Which I didn’t. Because of the lazy. But it’s fine. It’ll be safe until later. I hope.

Zaari is good. She meows a lot less. I’m not sure if that’s because she’s growing up or because she was completely traumatized by her week of NO MOMMY when I was at IST last week. Doug came by to feed her every couple of days, but I sort of think it wasn’t enough food. She’s been eating an entire can of sardines each day now and he only gave her a can for every two days or so. I’m pretty sure she was like freaking out, thinking she was near death or something. Which makes me feel kinda bad. But at least she’s eating a lot now. She’s also freaking huge. Like almost the size of real live, American kitten. I think she’s about thirteen or fourteen weeks. After we get paid at the end of the month, I’m going to finally get her vaccinated. I know, I know. It’s about time. She’s been mostly healthy, save for the “let’s add water to this sweetened, condensed milk and see if she’ll like it” phase. Note: she liked it, but puked it back up twenty minutes later. She’s also into killing lizards. Not necessarily eating all of it once killed, but she does enjoy the killing itself for sure. She killed one the other day and ate half of it before deciding she’d rather just eat sardines. Seriously, the top half of the lizard was gone, the back legs and tail just sitting all macabre out on my patio, his guts sort of unceremoniously tangled beside him. I know it was a he, too, because of the tiny little ignored gonads on the cement. Of course, they could have been ovaries. I don’t know anything about internal lizard anatomy. I’ve only dissected felines, sharks, and pigs for chrissakes.

So that’s that. My internet is back to being shitty. I have yet to finish filling out my med school application, although I got a good portion done while in Nati. I have about four sections left to finish before June 1st when I’ll be submitting the monster. Hopefully the PSI internet will be superb this week and I can get ‘er done. Ew, I can’t believe I just said “get ‘er done.” How Kansan of me.

Running? What running? I’ve not purposely gone on a run for 9 days now. That’s like completely ceasing all physical activity. Starting up again will be akin to beginning a new exercise routine, ask your doctor style. Again, not sure if the cause is general PC apathy or actual medical fatigue, but I just cannot get my ass out of bed in the morning to go run. By the time I’m up it’s way too freaking hot. I thought this hot season was over, but apparently it has decided to hang out for a bit longer. And, um, rainy season my ass. It’s rained like once in the last month. Of course, it was so intense, the water pooled under my windows and slowly trickled from one end of my house to the other, leaving a lovely wet mark stain. The river Djougs. Anyway, tomorrow I am BEGGING PROMISING FORCING THREATENING myself to get up by 6:30 and JUST GO. I mean, I will never have this much free time to get myself into an acceptable running schedule. I should SERIOUSLY make use of it so that when I’m in med school I have some sort of precedent for getting up at ungodly hours for the HOLY WORK-OUT. We’ll see how it goes.

In general I am sort of shocked that it is already May 21st (yes I’m post-posting this post…haha). My little bros have already finished with school. It’s like SUMMER WOO HOO time there already. Finals are so last week over. Graduations have happened already (well, except for Wellesley’s which is this weekend…holy mother of mothers, has it really been A YEAR since my own graduation??). Labor day marks the beginning of pool season and I am jealous. Of pools, most definitely. Of changing seasons? Um, yes. It’s been like the summer of hell here for 10 months. Windy season, rainy season, hot season. It doesn’t matter. It’s all summer all the time. Which I love. But still. I’m looking forward to my visit home in October. Yay, long sleeves!

Well, that paragraph wasn’t very organized. Oh well. I honestly don’t have much else to talk about. Work? Hmm. Monday I’ll go back to work at the office and will probably get started on end of the month reports. I feel like I just did these for April, but that’s how it goes I guess. I think Tuesday will be much of the same, Wednesday I’ll head over to the maternite for some baby stuff…maybe…they still don’t really know what to do with me. I’m frankly considering not even bothering. I usually just go and sit and watch prenatal consultations which is like boring as shit after the first, I don’t know, million. Thursday I’ll go to the HIV/AIDS testing center, which I actually enjoy. The people there are nice, I can watch cool procedures (like contraception insertions), do some easy peasy paperwork for them, fix their computer (usually just turning it off and then back on again heh), and they have a scale which says I weigh like ten pounds less than I do. So that’s always fun for the ole self-esteem. Then Friday I’m back at PSI. Honestly, I’m not super psyched about the work I do here. Can I say that? Out of the THREE GOALS of Peace Corps, the first one sort of sucks for me. I think that’s the way it is for a lot of volunteers, but whew. I feel better just getting it out there and off my chest. I’m bored with my work. There, I said it. The rest of my “job” here I really really love. Transferring knowledge about America to the Beninese and vice versa. I’m really good at that! Just today I had about five kids hanging out and we talked about American games and I taught them some English. It was fun and 2/3 of what I’m supposed to be doing here. So that’s good. And I guess I don’t always dislike my official work. I like the health center and talking to people casually about health related issues. And I like it when I feel useful at the office. That’s just sort of rare. C’est la vie, quoi. Ou bien?

So that’s that, folks. Not much to see here, move along. I wish I could recount harrowing tales of heroism or breathtaking displays of poverty and the romanticized happiness and carefree attitude of the people or even just talk about how I’m saving African babies and wiping the sweat off my brow with my red-dirt covered palm…but, I’m too busy being lazy and watching my cat eviscerate lizards right now. Maybe tomorrow.

E

PS. I actually DO have a story about traveling through the backwater villages on terre rouge, but I still have to bust it out. I’ll put it up as soon as the creative juices are flowing.

Ew..flow. Heh.

M&Ms, dentists, money, and Glee!

Well, I'm still in Cotonou. I've been here for 4 days now. I chipped my tooth Friday night while munching on some dark chocolate peanut M&Ms and watching the West Wing. Apparently it was my time, because that is just pretty lame. Not even a cool African related incident, just...M&Ms. So I came to Cotonou on Sunday to meet with the dentist. But of course, the bureau was closed on Monday because of the holiday. I quickly ran out of money on transportation and eating here for two days. I saw the dentist yesterday and he filled in my tooth. It looks fine, but feels strange. But I can't leave because I don't have any money. We won't get paid for a couple more weeks yet, so I need to get my reimbursement in cash...which is something unusual and apparently really difficult to do in a timely manner. But, I understand they're all busy. But I'm trapped here. If I had not chipped my tooth and stayed in Djougou, money would have been tight, but I can eat on less than 500 F a day if necessary, so I would have been fine. But travel here and back? Nope. The good news is that I got to watch True Blood and GLEE, season two. I hear my little brother Oliver is into Glee as well, so that rocks super hard. I also started watching Weeds, the shotime show about the suburban widow who sells pot and I am seriously loving it, but that might just be because I love Mary-Louise Parker so much and see her character as an extention of the sexy white house politico from the West Wing. Ah.

Ok, that's my life right now. Hopefully I'll make it back to Djougou tomorrow. Next Monday we're starting a family planning campagin in the village and i'm working with the midwife nurse to put in birth control implants and talk to village women about different bc types. I'm super stoked about it; it's a week long campaign and it sounds pretty baller.

take it easy, send tuna.
<3

E

Facilitating Behavior Changes (Post Visit Part Deux)

Sunday, September 12th, 2010.

Ok, well it turns out that there’s not really going to be a part deux to my Djougou post visit adventure. Pretty much everyone who needs to know has already heard the details, but I guess I’ll recount them anyway…but it’s not going to be some stylistic masterpiece or anything.

The night after I had my suspiciously delicious dinner with Doug, I woke up with stomach pain and all the associated fixings. The nausea and vomiting, however, were a bit out of the ordinary. The main discomfort came from the fact that after I puked, the nausea would still be very much present, which is usually not the case. You know what I mean; after throwing up, a sense of calm and health returns at least temporarily, even when really sick, until the next bought of nausea and subsequent vomiting occurs. This was just different; I’d puke and instantly feel nauseous again. This lasted until about 7 in the morning when I called the Peace Corps doctor and we chatted for a bit about getting me re-hydrated with ORS (Oral Re-hydrations Solution). Doug brought some over, but the taste was so gross that I just puked it up. So, it was determined after I started feeling dizzy from dehydration that I should probably get some IV fluids in me and stop the nausea. So I rode a zem to the hospital and talked to the doctor there. Doug translated and the doctor spoke a little English, so it really was no big deal. As usual, I was an awful patient, asking way too many questions and being demanding about who performed what procedures on me, etc. It was fine and the doctor stayed with me until all the saline, anti-nausea medication, and the antibiotics and anti-parasite meds had all gone into my veins. The hospital drove me back to where I was staying and I felt a lot better. The next day I just hung out in Djougou, reading and writing and the day after that I took the bus back to Cotonou. I stayed at the Bureau for a day and got checked out by the doctor; they took stool and blood samples and I’ve just been taking it easy since then. All they found was a high white blood cell count because all the killin’ meds got all the bugs by the time they checked. Right now, I feel back to normal. Taking all those meds actually probably killed off whatever I already had that had been making me generally ill for the last few weeks. I don’t think I’ve been this healthy the entire time I’ve been in this country. Honestly, we should all just do a round of ciprofloxin every 2 months or so to clean us out (ok, probably not…we wouldn’t want those fuckers to get resistant now would we?). But yeah, it was pretty trippy and I was definitely damn sick, but all is well that ends well, someone wiser than me once said.

I just spent the last hour with my host bro, Rico, writing and translating a letter for my vrai little brother, Zach. Maman wants them to be like best friends so when Rico comes to the US they can be buddies. Rico is pretty ambitious for his age; he wants to be an architect in the USA. I guess he has a better shot than a girl would, but I’m not exactly seeing it. It is possible, though, but he would really have to study hard and do everything right, which only like 10% of the people in this country actually do. Seriously, for example, like 20 out of 200 high school students in Lalo actually passed the baccelaureate to graduate high school and go to college. But it might be nice to do the penpal thing…except Zach will totally not understand anything Rico writes without translation…so it might just be a one time thing…although Rico can understand a little English probably, I don’t really see it evolving too far unless Zach wants to learn French haha.

On Wednesday I am cooking an American meal for the family. I’m going to do pancakes, scrambled eggs, and hash browns. There isn’t syrup, so I’m doing peanut butter and honey instead for on top. There will be tomatoes, onions, pimante, and wagasi in the scrambled eggs and the hash browns will be epic as well. I hope they like it, but they probably won’t. But I think pate is pretty nasty, so I guess we can debate our national dishes anytime. I’m pretty sure pancakes will win every time. Probably because America is the greatest country in the world. Just sayin’.

Tomorrow we find out the results of our last French interview. I did absolutely horribly in my interview, absolutely worse than the second interview, so I don’t really foresee any great results tomorrow. In fact, I’m a little concerned that I epically failed. Like, not even joking, I might not get to swear in. If that becomes the case, and I suppose I’ll reach that bridge when I come to it, I’m going to fight to be allowed to swear in anyway. I know I can survive with my level of French and I’ll get a tutor and test again in a few weeks. But maybe I did okay. But…I really bombed it. So. Yeah.

Well, swear in may or may not be on Friday. We are partying it up afterward at a hotel in Porto Novo and the next day purchasing a lot of stuff and packing up to move to our permanent posts. I’ll probably be leaving on Sunday, the 19th, taking a taxi with my bike, mattress, water filter, lockbox, and all my books and luggage and other random crap I’ve accumulated here with me. The next day is my birthday and I will be cleaning my house and settling in. I will also be cooking a Mexican fiesta and hopefully my buddy Josh from Boukoumbe will be coming down to have a few beers and help me celebrate a bit.

I’m actually not sure when the next time I’ll be online will be. I’m pretty sure there is internet at my office and I can bring my laptop and plug in…but I really really do not want to start working until I’ve at least gotten my big bed. The idea of having to go into work at like 8am immediately after getting to post sort of freaks me out; I need a few days to just unwind and get my bearings. I need to make sure the house is clean and devoid of rodent sized spiders and I’d like to make it feel a bit like a home if I can. It IS pink, which helps tremendously, so there’s that. But I will bring my laptop to work sometime next week and give a quick update. If I’m freakishly lucky, the wifi from the office will seep into my house, but I rather doubt it. But I am like practically connected to the office. My house is literally in the backyard of PSI. If I could get internet in my house I would be ecstatic.

Speaking of mild altering states, I just read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and my mind was totally blown. I never got through it as a kid and whoa, I had no idea what the book was about. Totally wild and got me thinking about the duality of nature and what the real differences are between science and art. It definitely made me appreciate my dad a lot more. And speaking of my dad…

HE BOUGHT THE TICKETS!!! Colt’s ticket to come and visit me has been officially purchased! He is leaving the US of A on the 17th of December and after a long layover in Casablanca, he’ll be arriving in Cotonou early in the morning of the 19th. I’ll pick him up via taxi and we’ll go back to my hotel room until 8am when we’ll take the bus to Djougou. We’ll stay at my place through Christmas and then go up to Pendjari, the national park, to have us an African safari. I think we’ll probably stay one or two nights there and then come back to my house for the New Year. On the 4th we’ll head back to Cotonou and he leaves the next day. He’ll be here for 17 days and I am SO HAPPY! We have 97 days until then, but I’m just glad it’s double and not triple digits. The longest we’ve had a countdown for was like 120 days, so we’re golden. Although if you add the 61 days that I’ve already been here…that’s like 158 days or something, but whatever. December 18th I’ll leave Djougou and come down to Cotonou for the night. Ahhhh, I’m so happy!

I’ve watched like a million episodes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and now I’m just like yelling at everyone…which is awkward because my French is so completely awful. I’ve also watched Law Abiding Citizen (great premise, lame ending), Blood Diamond, the Constant Gardener, and my personal absolutely favorite, Avatar. I love that movie, I wish I could live on Pandora and/or be an awesome, in-tune-with-nature huntress. I would totally eat meat if I had stalked and captured my prey. I think if you are willing to eat meat, you should be willing to take the animal’s life. If you can’t do it, don’t eat it. I’m like this weird vegetarian who totally wants to be badass and hunt and be one with nature in this spiritual symbiosis, but the idea of eating meat sort of squicks me out, unlike the meat eaters for whom the killing is distasteful. You pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down? Anyway, I like movies and I wish I had a whole lot more of them. Mostly, I want Twilight and Eclipse and New Moon if it’s out. Because just the other day I was thinking about how much I loved watching Bella and Edward’s crazy crazy love tension on screen and realized that I had gotten all my movies from a dude. So I have a lot of Die Hard and not a lot of Twilight. Which is fine most of the time, but I can only watch something like the Hangover so many times.

But I guess I can continue reading the super true tale of the Grateful Dead, a book I found in the workstation library. I almost started reading this theo apologist book that uses physics to prove the Judeo-Christian God, and then realized that if he had in fact done so I probably already would have heard of it and I wouldn’t need to learn it from a paperback book published in the 80s. The workstation libraries definitely have a strange assortment of stuff, including stories of Peace Corps service, which is like the last thing I want to read right now. It’s weird that I was so obsessed with reading about the Peace Corps for so long and now that I’m living it I have no desire to even think about someone else’s experience. I can barely process my own. I definitely have no desire to read another Peace Corps blog for as long as I’m here. I can barely keep up the enthusiasm for my own! Once things settle down for me in my new house, I don’t think there will be a lot going on to report about and I doubt I’ll be updating more than a few times a month. I don’t want to bore anyone, geez.

And on that note, I just want to add that dad totally sent me the biochemistry/pathology text book that KU med uses in it’s beginning seminars and I am totally going to learn the shit out of it. I am a little concerned that my anticipation for this book is exponentially higher than my excitement about my birthday, swear in, moving to my new house, and even cooking for myself, but I’m going to have science! Yay!

XOXO,

Elaina


Monday, September 13th

Yay, my birthday is in a week, woot woot! I think I actually might have a few packages in the mail, too…so even if I don’t get anything for my birthday I should still get something SOON.

I passed my language interview! Intermediate high is what I will swear-in as, which is completely fine with me. I think sometimes I can perform at an Advanced low level, but not consistently enough and it was definitely not showcased in my last interview. I’m just glad I get to go to the big ceremony. All the different sectors have matching tissue and I am picking up my traditional African style dress (called a modele) on Wednesday from the tailor. I asked for some embroidery that was sparkly and very pretty, so hopefully it’s awesome looking. I’m not too picky, though.

So swear-in is on Friday and we only have tomorrow and a half day on Wednesday left of classes. Tomorrow we’re at Songhai for the last time and I’ll post my last blog from training! After that these blog entries will be from an officially sworn-in Peace Corps volunteer, jigga-what?! Haha

I have started writing the tale of my love story with Colt. It’s pretty ridiculously sappy, actually. We’re incredibly cute with some pretty interesting stories in the history of our relationship so I think it’ll make decent writing. We’ll see; at the very least it’s cathartic for me to write it. I spent like two hours the other day re-reading all the old notes that Colt had given me from high school and than dreamed that we were still in the very beginning of our relationship with all those first concerns and dramas. We were both really different back then and we’ve changed a lot, but somehow we’re still compatible after all those changes.

I did the calculations and right now, he and I have physically been together for more time than we have physically been apart, even considering four years of long distance in college. With his visits and my semester at KSU, we’ve been together for just over a week longer than we’ve been apart. The bad news is that in about three days that balance will even up and then switch over to the majority of our relationship being spent physically apart from each other. The even worse news is that we won’t get back to half way and then surpass it until like September of 2014. So, that sucks. Especially when I think about how probably in the course of the next two years I’m going to actually get to spend a whole four or five weeks with him in total, and that’s it. Uuuughhhhh, depressing.

Happier things now.

Velveeta shells macaroni and cheese. This can be sent to me. And should be in high numbers.

Wow, it is astonishing how quickly that thought made me feel better. I really do love cheese and I have not had any real stuff since July 15th when I had my last meal of a subway sandwich with extra provolone, toasted just so the cheese begins to melt. Aaaahhhhhhh.

I miss cooking with Colt, making really random meals and trying to pair it with a wine or beer. Colt made a Mexican casserole (aka ‘mexicas’) a few days ago and I was more homesick and missing him than I had been in weeks. It’s like for some reason the thought of good, spicy Mexican food and Colt just go hand in hand with me missing America. That and the other homesick-inducing combo of pizza, Colt, and an action movie. That’s always a nice one, especially with a good beer (ou bien, a diet coke) thrown in the mix. Ok, screw Benin; I’m coming back!

Nooooot really. But damn I am sick of couscous which is sort of crazy because it’s the dish that is so good they named it twice.

Ok, enough of this nonsense, I’m going to go read about Jerry Garcia and the Dead.

With love from the dark continent of your imagination,

E


Tuesday, September 14th

Well, clearly I did not post my blog from yesterday. That is because the internet at Songhai was not working at all. The ladies behind the counter wouldn’t even let me buy any time because it was not going to be working any time in the foreseeable future. Today we signed a bunch of forms and finalized a lot of the plans for swear-in and the party afterward as well as when our taxis are leaving to go to our posts. It was super fun. Relatedly, we get our money for move in pretty soon so we’ll be able to buy a bunch of stuff before we leave…which is awesome. Also awesome: we have only one day of classes left!! Ahhhhhhh

Not so awesome: there are a couple people who did not pass their language requirement. They do not get to officially swear in and must take extra language classes and then re-test in a month. At that point they will be allowed to officially swear-in and their service of two years begins then. So basically, they have to spend an extra month in the Peace Corps because of it. That totally sucks and I think we can all see ourselves in that position. I mean, I was really not feeling good about my interview and feel like I could have easily been placed in that position. So they have definitely got my sympathy.

I talked to some ecotourism people today and decided that colt and I should hit up the safari thing pretty much right when he gets here, like spend a night in Djougou and then spend the next two nights on safari, that way we will have plenty of time afterward to really get to hang out and be comfortable. Apparently right before Christmas is a pretty good time to go, too, because it’s the dry season and that means that all the watering holes available to the animals are known to the guides and it is easier to spot them. I’m pretty stoked!

I learned that flossing your teeth once a day can help prevent heart disease. So I’m totally doing that now; go me.

Ok, I cannot believe how boring this has become. Next time I get online I’m going to have something interesting to talk about, I promise.

E

Nakayo! Part Un

That means "welcome" in Dendi, the local language of my village!

Ok, so let me just say that wow, it has been a long time since I have been away from my computer and I am realizing that I have definitely not been absconding from technology since I’ve been in Africa. I have pretty regularly updated this blog despite the fact that I no longer find anything in my day to day existence particularly interesting, unless you consider incredible bureaucratic frustration to be especially engaging. However, the last week that I have spend sans computer has been one of legit trials and tribulations, as it were, although not much of those trials were directly related to technological-withdrawl. While in Djougou I got really bad food poisoning, was throwing up bad enough that I was super dehydrated, and ended up needing to go to the local hospital for intravenous intervention. Now, seriously, before anyone freaks out, I am fine and back in Porto Novo, safe and sound. The Peace Corps doctors advised me the entire time and everything was clean and safe. That said, it was pretty intense.

I suppose I’ll just tell the little post visit tale chronologically, but know that as I write this I am at full health with my trusty anti parasitic pills, and that I really liked Djougou. I’m also breaking this post visit into two parts; my thrilling tale of food poisoning will come later, but first let me recount all the other parts of my journey! The writing is a bit more story-like, which was definitely more fun to write than normal blog entries have been.

Ok.

Djougou Post Visit Part Un

The first day of visit began at 5:00am when I left my host family to walk to the school where the van was picking us up to take us to the bus. It was still dark outside as I walked to school and the entire city was transformed into a weird, mysterious landscape that only made not speaking french that much more frustrating when dark shadows called out things to me. Once I was on the bus, I managed to use up the entire battery of my ipod within an hour and my homologue, Imorou, and I didn’t really have much to discuss beyond the basic familiarities. I think we both realized we’d be spending a lot of time together in the future and there was no need to waste the glorious air-conditioning of the bus to actually attempt to engage in a conversation en franglais (an intriguing blend of French and English). We stopped in Bohicon, a lovely little town that will be hosting Heather and Craig, and there for the first time in my life, paid someone to allow me to pee in a hole. It was cheap, but one would think that the very act of paying to urinate necessitates some sort of sanitary conditions, but that was definitely faux.

Once we arrived in Djougou, Imorou kindly discute’d (“dis-queue-tay’d” a franglais word of tres importance that means negotiation) a good price for a meal of yam pilee with wagasi. Yam pilee is like pate (sticky and solid and white without any hint of nutritional value…comes from yams…which are not like one would expect; here they are these giant freakishly hairy grey tubers that resemble firewood. To make the pilee, the yams are mashed and boiled and mashed again and then molded into a strange gelatinous pile to eat by hand with the sauce) but unlike pate, yam pilee is actually sort of good. It tastes a bit like mashed potatoes if they were made by anyone not my mother or myself (there are few things as delicious and incomparable as my mother’s mashed potatoes). They lack a little salt, but with the thick, spicy tomato sauce and the freshly fried, crispy wagasi, yam pilee is definitely my favorite traditional Beninese food I’ve experienced thus far.

Wednesday night I just hung out with my homestay family in Djougou, which ended up actually being a quasi-hotel with clean sheets and my own room, but so much noise outside that I wished I had brought my earplugs or not used up all my ipod battery on the drive. The woman who was supposed to house me was sick and I instead slept at her place of business, a tissage center, a new, French built compound where groups of women get together to weave various colorful fabrics. It is actually the place where Doug, my post mate and host brother from another mother (he had my host family last year), works with his homologue in the Small Business Development sector. The place was nice and the people nicer; the children outside were screaming the screams of children playing, the noise was supplemented by the other key sounds of the West African town: goats, guinea fowl, and the ever-so-present muezzin of the many mosques that dot the horizon in the city. That night I ate some strangely spicy rice and bean dinner (washed down with half a liter of unfiltered, unboiled water before I realized what I was doing and poured it down the drain), listened to the muezzin in his minaret and read my book called Reefer Madness: Sex, Drugs, and Labor in the American Black Market (if possible, I’ve become even more of a voracious reader here in Benin as well as increasingly, annoyingly liberal. By the end of the book I was ready to argue about the legalization of marijuana to anyone who was bored enough to listen…which was essentially the huge cockroach that ended up dying next to my bed that night). The third half of the book was all about pornography and nudged between discussions of Hugh Hefner and the porn connections to the mafia, there was a mention of my NGO, Population Services International (PSI) as having been started by a guy who wanted to sell novelty items by mail in the US and contraceptives in the developing world. Well, there ya go.

The next day was Thursday and at PSI I was introduced to the Djougou staff who all tried to speak English with me. I thought about asking them about their organization’s humble beginnings, but didn’t think either my French nor my English was sufficient to discuss mail order sex toys at any great length. Everyone seemed really nice and well educated and fully enjoying the air-conditioning and the high speed internet. A few people really joked around with me and I think that I will actually have a bit of fun working there. Imorou and I went out on a little visit to a neighboring village a few kilometers out and met up with a sage-femme at a maternite to collect from her records information about STIs and contraceptive use in her region. Imorou diligently recorded the numbers and we chatted with her for a bit. The place was eerily quiet; all the public health workers in Benin are en grave, on strike, right now for more money from the government. I asked what people do if they get sick and she just smiled and said that they all still work on Fridays.

I was able to see my house that afternoon and let me tell ya, I was not thrilled with my first impression. It had been taken back by Africa; reclaimed by the gods to the insects and creatures of this continent. Spiders, lizards, heretofore unseen bugs of various varieties, cobwebs, freaky looking plants. All that paled in comparison to the maestro, la grande, the largest fucking spider that has ever been conceived outside of a Hollywood horror film. This spider was the size of a large, well-fed rodent, although not nearly as hairy and it was hanging out in a thick, dewy web next to my shower just waiting for an unsuspecting child to wander into it’s nest, Shelob style. I’m talking ten inches from the tip of it’s disturbingly pointy front legs to the back of it’s claw-like nether regions, with a dark, sinister body as thick and robust as my fist. MY FIST. I actually don’t think I’ve seen a larger spider in cinema, except for the Tolkein creation, Aragog from HP, and those freaky Jumanji spiders that gave me the heebie-jeebies for years. Yeah, you remembers those. Imorou killed it valiantly with a stick and I have been assured that the body has been properly disposed of. Doug guaranteed that la grande was not a normal occurrence, a reassurance that was very necessary after Imorou insisted I stay at the house and get habituated to them. Yeah, I don’t want to be that bien ingre, thanks.

Despite the lurking arachnid horror, the house is lovely. I have a few things to be made by the menusier, like a bookshelf, double bed, a few shelves here and there, and a clothes rack, but I have already a make-shift couch, a coffee table, two living room chairs, a dining table with four chairs, a desk, a cot, an extra twin bed, and some duct taped newspaper clippings from the 2008 World Series as decoration. Most of my move in allowance will be spent on carpentry, kitchen supplies, and some cool paintings if they are not too expensive. The house is big and right next door to PSI. I think I’m going to try for a garden outside in my concession if it is okay with my 2 neighbors, although I doubt they’ll care if I give them some tomatoes or moringa leaves free of charge every now and again. I have a guava tree beside the house, but my favorite thing about my house is that there is a mango tree right in front of my little stone porch and I can absolutely see me and Colt sitting underneath it in the hot African winter, eating warm mangoes that have just fallen from above us. It’s like a Jack Johnson song in my front yard, which is just dandy for me although it makes me miss him even more.

That night I had another ‘whoa Africa’ moment looking up at the stars while on the roof of the buvette near my house, on the outskirts of the town where the noises fade away after dark. Doug and I met up to get to know each other a little bit better and have a couple drinks and somehow we ended up on the roof with the very drunk proprietor and a bowl of yam frites while drunk dialing Maman Rico in Porto Novo. I was drinking a petite Beninoise, the local beer of Benin, which is also the feminine nationality here (one could think I was ordering up a small Beninese woman for the evening if that sort of thing happened here, which it does, just not by other women). We had lapsed into a comfortable silence despite the odd moto horn in the distance, unintelligible insect noises in the bush, and the reassuring snores of the bar owner next to us. The moment was subtle, I hardly noticed it to be honest, but I looked up and realized that all the stars seemed somehow nearer and brighter than I’d ever seen before in my life and immediately after that realized that that moment was the first time I was really seeing the unaltered African sky. Because I’d only been in big cities thus far and was too tired and stressed on tech visit in Lalo, I’d managed to miss one of the most simple and breathtaking sights this continent has to offer.

I spent Friday at the Centre de Sante, the health center, and talked with the sage-femmes and lab techs there. I actually watched a women, who only spoke Dendi, get the implant contraceptive, Jadelle (like Norplant) contraceptive inserted into her upper arm in the morning and sat in on a positive HIV test informing meeting in the afternoon. Both of those were pretty intense for different reasons. The first one was pleasing to me because I really enjoy procedures and seeing them done is always exciting for me to learn more about how the human body works and responds to stress. I am always impressed with both the resiliency of the patient’s body and amazed by what looks like a callous roughness from the physician or nurse. Imorou was with me during the insertion and he mumbled reassuring things to the woman in Dendi while taking photos of me dripping iodine solution onto a gauze pad for the midwife. After that we saw the lab where one of the doctors was just about to get the results for an HIV test he was working on. We waited while the little strip began to clearly show the outline of a positive sign and I found myself choking back tears as he explained that the woman, also a non-French speaker and Muslim, was waiting in the other room to get the results. I sat next to him in his office while he called her in. Her face was veiled completely save for her eyes, which were outlined with black and flashed boldly. When the door was closed behind her, she removed her veil and sat down, silent. Without the cover, her gaze was less bold and more tired; the lines of the years had begun to write themselves in the corners of her eyes. I glanced down at the papers in front of the physician and noticed that she was thirty years old and that she was pregnant. Looking while trying not to stare, I could see she was just starting to show under her robes, the swell not more than 6 months old. I expected him to greet her, open the conversation carefully, doucement, break the news as gently as possible, but that didn’t happen. He simply pulled out a stack of cotrimazidole pills from his desk drawer and handed them to her; she didn’t even blink as she tucked them into her waistband.

Later, after a suspiciously tasty dinner at Le Cafetariat le Flamboyant, a buvette/salad joint near the bus stop, it began to rain harder than I‘ve ever experienced. I was lounging on the bed, the mosquito net still flipped up, not yet ready for the night, fanning myself and reflecting on the Dendi that I had managed to pick up during the last couple days (Nasuba--bonjour, Me teg gah?-- comment ca va?, baani--ca va bien, nagbe--merci). I was laying there, trying to think over the noises of the guinea fowl, children, and mosques, vaguely hoping that the still distant cramping in my gut would soon abate, when the skies abruptly opened up with the crack of lightning. My door had been open to the warm evening and the tiled floor was instantly soaked with the sudden African rain. I felt the heat immediately dissipate as I jumped up to close the door against the barrage. I noticed something else as I stood there, the rain soaking through my clothes. It was easy to miss if you weren’t listening, but the sound of the rain was so complete that it filled the room perfectly and silenced all the other sounds of the city save for the pounding hush of the downpour.

A Cockroach story

Sunday, August 29th, 2010

Yesterday the Peace Corps gave all of us trainees an official memo declaring that we were not allowed to attend the Akon concert that evening because of unspecified specific security and safety concerns for us. I had already decided to not go because it would have been super awkward with just my papa, but even so I was a little bit irritated that they waited until the day of the concert to actually forbid us from going. What if people already had tickets? I know current volunteers went, though, despite the strong suggestion that they not go as well.

So I’m back in Porto Novo and week 7 is just getting ready to start. We meet our counterparts/homologues/work partners tomorrow at Songhai in the afternoon. This is a person that we are assigned to work with in our partner institution. For example, because I am working with PSI, my work partner will be someone who works in the same building as me, doing basically the same kind of work I’ll be doing. They may or may not have more authority at work than we will, but they definitely know more about the place. On a work related note, I apparently have air conditioning at my office. Awesome. But at the same time, the girl I am replacing was telling me yesterday that she didn’t have a lot of room to pick her own projects, that PSI really just gave her a very structured work environment. That is a bit of a bummer for me. Usually RCH volunteers have buckets of free time and really need to be self motivated. Since motivation is not exactly a trait I lack, I could do very well in an unstructured environment. I mean, I know I’ll do fine with heavy structure, too, I think I just would have preferred more freedom in the selection of my projects. But. My house and living arrangements are going to be so awesome that I feel like I’m not allowed to complain and everyone insists that I can do a secondary project with a midwife if I want. So, we’ll see.

And on va voir really soon, because Wednesday we are shipping out to go on our post visit. As usual, the Peace Corps hasn’t really given us much information on what to expect at post visit or what we’ll be doing or where we’ll be staying or any other seemingly important logistical stuff that we’d like to know more than two days in advance like how we’re getting there in the first place. So somehow at sometime on Wednesday with some unknown number of other people I will be taking the 8 odd hour trip up to Djougou. I think I’ll be going with my new work partner. I know I’ll be there four nights and that I’ll be shown around town and the office and hopefully have a chance to get some stuff for the house if I need it. My buddy, Josh, who will be up in Boukoumbe (boo-KOOM-bay) offered to give me a Teflon frying pan, so that’s one nice kitchen item I won’t have to buy at Erevan. Depending on how big it is, I’ll probably get another one. I like having a big one and a littler one. I think I’m going to make a detailed list about the things I need for the kitchen as well as the rest of the house while I’m up there. I’m pretty sure I’ll be staying in the house during those days; if they say no, I’ll probably just insist that I get to. I really need some alone time haha

I feel quite a bit better health wise, but not really at 100%. To a certain extent, I don’t think I will feel fully recovered while in Africa. There’s parasites and amoebas and bacteria in pretty much everything and basically you just get used to feeling sort of icky all the time. Cara, a volunteer up north, was telling me that some volunteers are just plain rude to other people who are sick because it’s just something you have to get used to and deal with. Of course serious illnesses are a different story, but the sort of general gastrointestinal discomfort we’ve all been having on and off for the last 7 weeks is just something that will get easier to handle the longer we experience it. I don’t know, the idea of some new, strange African creatures living in my gut really freaked me out at first; I was committed to boiling and filtering all my water no matter how clean it looked for my entire service, but more and more I’m finding that I can see myself being a little more lax like the other volunteers have gotten over the years. I mean, I’ve been super diligent about it and I’m still sick all the time, so as long as I have pipe water and not a well, I don’t see anything wrong with skipping the boiling step. It takes like 10 hours for the water to cool down afterward anyway and during Chaleur I don’t think the water will cool down for days. Although, I will probably have a fridge which will help. I haven’t decided yet and I’ll probably boil for a while at post just to be safe. But damn, I’m pretty lazy, and if PSI has me working hard all day in the office, I’ll be tired, too! Haha

So I thought I’d end this entry with a little story. Yesterday I woke up, used the bathroom and showered and then came back into my bedroom to find a cockroach up on his back, legs wiggling madly in the middle of the room. Because I was running late and I remembered that the last time this scenario had presented itself resulted in the death of and easy removal by broom of the cockroach, I simply left for school and decided to deal with it later. Well, later arrived and I was still too tired and lazy. So I decided that the corpse (I checked it by blowing on it; it was dead) could probably hang out in my room overnight and I’d sweep my room in the morning while I did all my other cleaning chores. This morning I arose and looked for the broom, but when I returned, the dead cockroach was no where to be found. At first I thought, “holy shit, the blow test didn’t work!” and assumed he had somehow flipped back over and scurried away to continue his life. But I found that implausible, especially since as I peered down to his final resting place I noticed something very strange and disturbing. Laying there, in the very place his body had been just the night before, were two dismembered appendages of said cockroach. Instantly I knew what had happened. Sometime in the night, some other critters or creatures unknown surreptitiously entered my bedroom and mutilated the body of the recently deceased insect and either carted away or consumed them while I slept peaceful nearby, blissfully unaware. Ok, eww. There are four possibilities for the perpetrators. One, one cockroach or several other cockroaches have turned cannibalistic. Two, one of those giant flat spiders came out of hiding for a tasty treat. Three, lizards. I’ve seen them in my room in the evenings and they look like cockroaches would be their fav. Four, and this is the most likely of them all… ants. Yes, ants. Jess Bruce recounted a story to me about a dead cockroach being carted off by a colony of ants while she was living here. Because of the eerie similarity between the two situations, I cannot help but lean in the direction of the ants. But damn, why did they not want the arms?!

This is my entertainment, people. This is what I have become! Where is that biochem text book??!

I just finished cleaning my diamond ring and I was totally surprised at how dirty it was. I had no idea! It looks all new and shiny now and I’ve been thinking a lot about being engaged. It doesn’t actually feel all that different to me than how serious we were before (a fact that I had to insist upon to the Peace Corps people so I could actually go!). But at the same time, there is something different about it. I guess the significance is mostly in how people respond to it. “Boyfriend” is so much less important sounding than “fiancé” and it’s funny because for the last two or so years, “boyfriend” has not really been an acceptable term to adequately express our relationship to other people. By using “fiancé” and having the ring, people don’t question my commitment to him. The other trainees with significant others back home are seen by the single people here as basically fair game, but I am completely off the market, as if I were married. I mean, it’s nice, but it would be frustrating if I were not engaged, but just as serious about us. I don’t know, I’m rambling, but suffice it to say that I am really glad that I am not going to be participating in the Peace Corps hook-up and rumor mill. Apparently everyone gets with everyone else and everyone else knows about it. I feel way too old for that shit, haha.

So apparently the mosquitoes in my house are strong because the first maman had malaria! I asked her today after dinner what was on her hand and she told me it was from an IV when she was at the hospital yesterday because she caught the palu (palu is short for paludisme which means malaria). I told her she should sleep under a mosquito net and she said she already did. But there are like a million mosquitoes out in the living room in the evenings, so I guess there’s no avoiding it. I guess if you’re not on prophylactics there’s really no way to prevent getting bitten by an infected mosquito. It’s kind of cool because I totally have the malaria parasites in my body right now, but the mefloquine keeps the symptoms away. Totally rad, but it means that even if I left Benin right now and didn’t get any more bites, if I stopped taking the meds I could get malaria in like a month. Also, sometimes the parasites stay dormant in the liver and can resurface in like 10 years! Wild stuff. Related to mamans, I haven’t seen the young maman in like two weeks. I think she and papa are having a fight or something. which is understandable since he’s got two wives living in the same house. I’d probably be in a fight a lot, too.

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AAARRRGGHHH

So I'm definitely staying the night in Cotonou and will be trying to get some American food tonight. I feel like crap, though, so it's not exactly super fun or anything.

I'm also just generally in a bad mood because I forgot my computer charger in Porto Novo and my battery is going to die in a few minutes. Also, i spent about 2 hours loading pictures on these blog and then the internet cut out and the post didn't save. So, I'm really frustrated right now. I should have brought a book or something.

GRRRRRRRR

Repo in Cotonou

Well, I gave in and just decided to go to Cotonou to see the doctors. I've had sickness feelings for about three weeks now and I just feel generally bad. I was also really homesick last night and I've been extremely frustrated with the trainings lately. I think I just need some time away from Porto Novo and stage for a bit to clear my head and get some meds for my tummy.

I'm also feeling sort of ambivalent about going to Akon. I don't really want to go with just Papa. I don't think it will be worth spending the money to not be with any friends since he hasn't told me anything about whether or not other people can come, too. So whatever. It's not worth 5 mille anyway.

Last night I watched two movies on my computer, Blood Diamond and The Constant Gardener. It was a lot of Africa all at once, but it was so nice to just chill in my room. I also ate dinner at a normal American time and totally took it in my room with me to eat while I watched movies...which was lovely. I was so happy that later, when I was going to bed, all I could think about was how fun it was to watch movies and eat food with Colt (usually pizza...) and I was just suddenly really sad. Then I was thinking about Wellesley and Alex and totally missing hanging out with everyone and I had a moment where I realized that Wellesley was really over and i wouldn't be going back. For some reason that was really upsetting and I spent a lot of time crying about that and about the lack of pizza in my life. I actually called and woke Colt up to cry about it all. He was very helpful and only laughed a little bit.

Now I am actually sort of bored. I don't want to watch all my movies (that I got from my language buddy Matt's hard drive), but I also don't think I'll be meeting with the doctor until later this afternoon. Maybe I'll try to go sleep or something or upload photos. My head hurts!

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