Well, I'll be darned...I've been mispronouncing Benin from day one. It ain't buh-NEEN, it's buh-NIN! Here's the proof. (Yeah, I know I'm a nerd) I feel as if I've been lied to by every person who ever said Buh-NEEN to me. As if one moment the world was flat and everything was cool, and then all of the sudden, somebody tells me its an oblong sphere.
Monday, May 21, 2007
I Admit It...
I am one of these over-eager PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) who starts their blog a full two months before anything really interesting could possibly happen. I guess this section of my blog is more for people who know me, or for whatever weird reason are interested in what it's like to prepare to pull up stakes and head into the unknown. (Although all these damn blogs are already conspiring to remove at least some of the mystery of what I am about to face in Africa.) If you are put-off by overly personal blogs, and you're a reader who just wants to read my stories about Benin, I suggest that you check back in late July when I will have something to write about other than hopes, fears, speculation, conjecture and hear-say.
I suppose I should start off with some basic stuff, like what would make me excited to go live in a mud hut with no electricity or running water, in a village where it's likely that few people will speak French, let alone English. Um...I have no freaking idea...That's just how I am I guess. At the risk of sounding superficial, I have always been fascinated by the other, by the exotic. Plus, I am excited to single-handedly save the world. First I will save my village, then the good-will, good ideas, good vibes will quickly sweep through Africa and wash over all the other six continents until it's one love--one heart, baby, a gigantic love-puddle of a planet. Um, yeah.
Now for some cold hard facts...I will be leaving July 17 to meet up in Philly with a few dozen bright-eyed kids and assorted do-gooders. We will play some annoying ice-breakers at some hotel or convention center or something, get some shots, get giddy about the intense adventure that lies ahead, and form some tentative bonds so that we leave with some sense of collective endeavor. I'm convinced this is most importantly a chance to weed out the nut-cases who managed to come off as normal during their initial interview.
We will fly to Cotonou, Benin, and then travel to Lokossa, which wikipedia will tell you is a city of a bit under 50,000 for nine weeks of training. Each trainee will be placed with a family to facilitate language and cultural immersion. Days will be intensive language classes (French and perhaps a local language), cultural study etc. Nights will be getting to know other trainees, our host families, and la culture beninoise. I suppose I will also begin training to be an English teacher. This will be my primary job in Benin, although it is expected that I come up with secondary projects based on the needs of my community which may or may not relate to education. Only after this training period will they decide where exactly to send me.
Now, I would be lying if I said I knew anything about Benin. At the time when I received my PC invitation, the extent of my knowledge was that it was always referred to in the same breath as Togo, as in Togo-and-Benin, like Trinidad-and-Tobago. That tells you something right there. This place is pretty small. About 8 million, which if I'm not mistaken, is roughly the size of NYC. Since then I have learned a few meager pieces of info, some of which give pause.
Exhibit A: Benin is the birthplace of Vodun, which was exported with slaves to become voodoo in Haiti and other corners of the world. While that is a little freaky for those of us who don't have a clue as to what voodoo is all about, anyone who knows me could guess that I would be excited about the prospect of witnessing trance-induced spirit possession and the hypnotic music that usually accompanies that sort of thing. That said, I don't actually know if that is part of Vodun, but dagnabbit, I aim to find out. Stay tuned for the real deal on voodoo--it's more than dolls and pins...
Exhibit B: For a few hundred years, Benin was heavily involved in the slave trade. It's part of the Slave Coast, which includes Togo, Benin, and Nigeria. There's some dark shit for you...
On a brighter note, I have learned that the country is quite stable compared to many of the countries which surround it. The people tend to get along, the food is considered good, the weather isn't too extreme, and all in all, it seems like an awesome place to spend a couple years. I do not yet know much about the music, but I am sure there is enough happening music to keep me giddy for the duration of my stay. On this world-wide jazz club directory, there were three clubs in the capital of cotonou which claim to present jazz, so I am hopeful for the occasional jam session or performance opportunity. Plus two musicians who I admire very much come from Benin--the soulful world-pop sensation Angelique Kidjo and the jazz guitarist Lionel Loueke who has recently earned the love of much of the NYC underground scene. Neither one represents "musique Beninoise", but it gives me hope that I will have a chance to meet, hear, and collaborate with some incredible musicians.
I suppose I should start off with some basic stuff, like what would make me excited to go live in a mud hut with no electricity or running water, in a village where it's likely that few people will speak French, let alone English. Um...I have no freaking idea...That's just how I am I guess. At the risk of sounding superficial, I have always been fascinated by the other, by the exotic. Plus, I am excited to single-handedly save the world. First I will save my village, then the good-will, good ideas, good vibes will quickly sweep through Africa and wash over all the other six continents until it's one love--one heart, baby, a gigantic love-puddle of a planet. Um, yeah.
Now for some cold hard facts...I will be leaving July 17 to meet up in Philly with a few dozen bright-eyed kids and assorted do-gooders. We will play some annoying ice-breakers at some hotel or convention center or something, get some shots, get giddy about the intense adventure that lies ahead, and form some tentative bonds so that we leave with some sense of collective endeavor. I'm convinced this is most importantly a chance to weed out the nut-cases who managed to come off as normal during their initial interview.
We will fly to Cotonou, Benin, and then travel to Lokossa, which wikipedia will tell you is a city of a bit under 50,000 for nine weeks of training. Each trainee will be placed with a family to facilitate language and cultural immersion. Days will be intensive language classes (French and perhaps a local language), cultural study etc. Nights will be getting to know other trainees, our host families, and la culture beninoise. I suppose I will also begin training to be an English teacher. This will be my primary job in Benin, although it is expected that I come up with secondary projects based on the needs of my community which may or may not relate to education. Only after this training period will they decide where exactly to send me.
Now, I would be lying if I said I knew anything about Benin. At the time when I received my PC invitation, the extent of my knowledge was that it was always referred to in the same breath as Togo, as in Togo-and-Benin, like Trinidad-and-Tobago. That tells you something right there. This place is pretty small. About 8 million, which if I'm not mistaken, is roughly the size of NYC. Since then I have learned a few meager pieces of info, some of which give pause.
Exhibit A: Benin is the birthplace of Vodun, which was exported with slaves to become voodoo in Haiti and other corners of the world. While that is a little freaky for those of us who don't have a clue as to what voodoo is all about, anyone who knows me could guess that I would be excited about the prospect of witnessing trance-induced spirit possession and the hypnotic music that usually accompanies that sort of thing. That said, I don't actually know if that is part of Vodun, but dagnabbit, I aim to find out. Stay tuned for the real deal on voodoo--it's more than dolls and pins...
Exhibit B: For a few hundred years, Benin was heavily involved in the slave trade. It's part of the Slave Coast, which includes Togo, Benin, and Nigeria. There's some dark shit for you...
On a brighter note, I have learned that the country is quite stable compared to many of the countries which surround it. The people tend to get along, the food is considered good, the weather isn't too extreme, and all in all, it seems like an awesome place to spend a couple years. I do not yet know much about the music, but I am sure there is enough happening music to keep me giddy for the duration of my stay. On this world-wide jazz club directory, there were three clubs in the capital of cotonou which claim to present jazz, so I am hopeful for the occasional jam session or performance opportunity. Plus two musicians who I admire very much come from Benin--the soulful world-pop sensation Angelique Kidjo and the jazz guitarist Lionel Loueke who has recently earned the love of much of the NYC underground scene. Neither one represents "musique Beninoise", but it gives me hope that I will have a chance to meet, hear, and collaborate with some incredible musicians.
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