Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Porto-Novo is a trip, at least for us villageois who get excited to see a flush toilet. I like to call this training site "Porto-Novo 90210". While I am jealous to witness the luxurious accomodations (tiled houses, second floors, gardens with shrubs and guard dogs, large televisions, spacious living quarters, delicious food, large private bathrooms with showers and toilets and even, gasp, bedets !?! etc) of the stageaires, I definitely don't envy the difficult transition they will face as they go off to live in their muddy, dusty, hot, non-french-speaking, no-vegetable-having villages. I just hope it won't be too much of a shock to their system as they realize first hand what we volunteers have been trying to stress to them--this is not the real "Benin".
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Here we go! Tomorrow I leave Benin for the first time in a year...Interesting that today is our one year mark......I'm going with a friend to Ghana for ten days...WOO HOO... in which we plan to walk high up in the canopy somewhere, play drums for a few days at a music school in a village, and check out the Accra music scene, among other unplanned adventures. Expect a full debriefing in August. Mom and Dad, don't worry, I won't "do anything stupid". At least nothing stupider than anything I've done and lived through in Europe, Central America or Benin. Kisses to all.
.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Camp GLOW~~Dung Beetles~~Tall Tales of the Panther
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Camp GLOW
I spent the last week at a Peace Corps-run camp for girls called Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World). It was even more fun and rewarding than I had expected. More tiring, too. For five days I was "on" from 7 am till 10 pm, taking breaks while the girls were in sessions.
About 15 volunteers brought 12-17 yr-old girls from their schools or communities, about 50 in all. The girls were hand-picked, so most were smart, serious, and really nice. We stayed on a University campus in Porto-Novo which was probably the most manicured and stately place many of them had ever seen. One of my three girls had never been to Cotonou, the biggest city which is only 1 1/2 hours away, and none of them had been to PN, their country's capital.
There were many guest speakers and activity facilitators. The girls had 2 hr sessions on hygiene, nutrition, puberty & reproduction, financial planning, gender roles and professions, factors which keep girls from finishing school (specifically teachers who sleep with their students-more common than you might expect), children's rights, a panel with women professionals, the importance of education and study habits, a computer class, crocheting with plastic bags, necklace-making, a talent show, an american-style campfire (very bizarre) a dance party with a DJ, visits to the National Assembly (Beninese Legislature), a museum and the Centre Songhai, an impressive facility where people come for training in gardening, fish-raising, mushroom cultivation, composting and many related skills. Yes, in five days.
Of course, mixed in was free time for sports and games, origami, singing, and hanging out.
The first night, since none of them have watches, and they were so excited to be there, they were up at 3:30 am sweeping their rooms. A volunteer told them it wasn't time to get up yet, but an hour later, they were at it again with their brooms.
On a whim I taught them "Tomorrow" and "I'm Singin in the Rain" while killing time while waiting for a late speaker. They and a few other songs became the theme songs for the week, and a handy way to deal with dead air between other stuff. There are few things more endearing than 50 Beninese girls earnestly singing Broadway tunes.
It was so "Peace Corps" its not even funny, which, of course, is a good thing. I really think it was an unforgettable experience for most of the girls, and most of them came away with some concrete, useful knowledge that they hadn't had access to, as well as more confidence and ambition.
I was very impressed by the talent show skits. We asked them to deal with themes we had covered during the week. They wrote sketches about child trafficking and abuse, sexual abuse in school, villageois fathers who prefer that their kids work in the fields, and most of them acted with flair and spunk, improvising to great effect. A number of these girls had me guffawing at their goofy antics. It was very cool that they had a chance to just look squarely at some of the issues they deal with in a safe, supportive space.
Today on the way home I asked one of my girls what her favorite part was, expecting her to name an interesting session or trip. She told me the best thing was having no boys around for a while. And this is coming from one of the most out-spoken, confident, aggressive girls I know. I can only imagine that the more shy girls felt that even more strongly.
I really liked the girls and I miss them...I can't wait for next year!
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Today riding along the dirt road towards my house, I saw a beetle rolling a brown ball almost an inch in diameter. It was about eight times his size, and he changed direction alot as if the ball itself were deciding which way to roll.
I was told years ago that the scarab beetle in Egypt would roll a ball of dung and lay its eggs in it. Hence "dung-beetle". Their was a faint fecal odor near this fellow, but I guess I didn't feel like getting off my bike to investigate further, i.e. stick my nose in it.
Any time I see something fascinating or amusing like that, there are inevitably people nearby who find my amusement or fascination in turn amusing. I suppose a white guy is more interesting than shit-rolling beetles, circus-like feats of human transport, young children doing big things, bleating goats which sound ridiculously child-like, and any number of odd things.
It has been a big blow to my ego to deal with heat rash (at least that's what I hope it is). For about a month I have had these red dots which recede but never completely go away on my chest, back and forearms. Sometimes they become more prominent and feel prickly, especially when it's hot, or if I'm flushed with emotions such as shame or nervousness, and I get nervous and tell myself I'll go see the doctor right away. Then they lay low for a while and I chill out.
Heat rash is for wimps. For people that get asthma and can't eat spicy food. For people that need air conditioning and two showers a day. For those who sunburn easily and wear a bicyle helmet when nobody tells them to. I thought I was more like Tarzan than Rick Moranis, but I guess I was wrong. I'm gonna see a doctor this week and hope it's not something creepier like a fungus or bed- bugs. But first we'll see if a day or two at the beach can take care of it- I can't help but have faith in seawater for all things skin-related.
Speaking of skin, did you white folks know that black skin is firmer and less stretchy than ours? When Beninese people started telling me that, I found it ridiculous until I pinched my arm-skin, and theirs. Big difference. Great, another emasculating discovery.
The new-jacks arrive friday. Sixty clean, nervous, excited, idealistic, extremely American men and women who don't really have any idea what their life will be like a week from now are frantically shopping and reading books to prepare themselves. We volunteers are eagerly awaiting this transfusion of energy, personalities, and of course, date-able singles.
We will go to the airport and applaud their arrival--it's the most exciting moment of the year for our PC family.
I heard some interesting stuff about Kerekou, the ex-president of Benin, last night, hanging with my friend at a buvette. He said Kerekou never finished primary school. I should have asked if he became literate by some other means. Anyway, he came to power through a coup, and many insist that he got and kept power through gris-gris (a spell). He was always saying "the branch will never break in the hand of the Chameleon" and carried always a stick with a carved Chameleon.
My friend was there in Cotonou one day in 1989 when there was a mob in the streets waving machetes and calling for his head. (I think I was at a Bar-Mitzvah party at some Beach Club). His car stopped and he got out, holding his stick. The people ran away. He called them back and told his bodyguards not to shoot. He walked about 2 km, my friend tagging along, got back in his car, and that was that.
Then again, my friend, whose motives I strongly trust, also told me that the whisker of a Panther is deadly, and can even kill thousands of people. Dry it's harmless, but stick it in some water or any liquid and it creates a deadly poison. It's not gris-gris, but the natural property of the whisker. Of course, since Africans are forever seeking the downfall of those close-by, there are those who collect and sell the whiskers for use as a poison.
Oh yeah, another Panther fact I never knew- apparently, they don't eat the flesh of their prey like lions do, they attack at the neck and suck the beast dry of its blood. Hmmm, that one is interesting but a bit hard to swallow.
My point is you gotta take everything with a grain of salt.
Now I'd better go to bed. G'Night...
Camp GLOW
I spent the last week at a Peace Corps-run camp for girls called Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World). It was even more fun and rewarding than I had expected. More tiring, too. For five days I was "on" from 7 am till 10 pm, taking breaks while the girls were in sessions.
About 15 volunteers brought 12-17 yr-old girls from their schools or communities, about 50 in all. The girls were hand-picked, so most were smart, serious, and really nice. We stayed on a University campus in Porto-Novo which was probably the most manicured and stately place many of them had ever seen. One of my three girls had never been to Cotonou, the biggest city which is only 1 1/2 hours away, and none of them had been to PN, their country's capital.
There were many guest speakers and activity facilitators. The girls had 2 hr sessions on hygiene, nutrition, puberty & reproduction, financial planning, gender roles and professions, factors which keep girls from finishing school (specifically teachers who sleep with their students-more common than you might expect), children's rights, a panel with women professionals, the importance of education and study habits, a computer class, crocheting with plastic bags, necklace-making, a talent show, an american-style campfire (very bizarre) a dance party with a DJ, visits to the National Assembly (Beninese Legislature), a museum and the Centre Songhai, an impressive facility where people come for training in gardening, fish-raising, mushroom cultivation, composting and many related skills. Yes, in five days.
Of course, mixed in was free time for sports and games, origami, singing, and hanging out.
The first night, since none of them have watches, and they were so excited to be there, they were up at 3:30 am sweeping their rooms. A volunteer told them it wasn't time to get up yet, but an hour later, they were at it again with their brooms.
On a whim I taught them "Tomorrow" and "I'm Singin in the Rain" while killing time while waiting for a late speaker. They and a few other songs became the theme songs for the week, and a handy way to deal with dead air between other stuff. There are few things more endearing than 50 Beninese girls earnestly singing Broadway tunes.
It was so "Peace Corps" its not even funny, which, of course, is a good thing. I really think it was an unforgettable experience for most of the girls, and most of them came away with some concrete, useful knowledge that they hadn't had access to, as well as more confidence and ambition.
I was very impressed by the talent show skits. We asked them to deal with themes we had covered during the week. They wrote sketches about child trafficking and abuse, sexual abuse in school, villageois fathers who prefer that their kids work in the fields, and most of them acted with flair and spunk, improvising to great effect. A number of these girls had me guffawing at their goofy antics. It was very cool that they had a chance to just look squarely at some of the issues they deal with in a safe, supportive space.
Today on the way home I asked one of my girls what her favorite part was, expecting her to name an interesting session or trip. She told me the best thing was having no boys around for a while. And this is coming from one of the most out-spoken, confident, aggressive girls I know. I can only imagine that the more shy girls felt that even more strongly.
I really liked the girls and I miss them...I can't wait for next year!
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Today riding along the dirt road towards my house, I saw a beetle rolling a brown ball almost an inch in diameter. It was about eight times his size, and he changed direction alot as if the ball itself were deciding which way to roll.
I was told years ago that the scarab beetle in Egypt would roll a ball of dung and lay its eggs in it. Hence "dung-beetle". Their was a faint fecal odor near this fellow, but I guess I didn't feel like getting off my bike to investigate further, i.e. stick my nose in it.
Any time I see something fascinating or amusing like that, there are inevitably people nearby who find my amusement or fascination in turn amusing. I suppose a white guy is more interesting than shit-rolling beetles, circus-like feats of human transport, young children doing big things, bleating goats which sound ridiculously child-like, and any number of odd things.
It has been a big blow to my ego to deal with heat rash (at least that's what I hope it is). For about a month I have had these red dots which recede but never completely go away on my chest, back and forearms. Sometimes they become more prominent and feel prickly, especially when it's hot, or if I'm flushed with emotions such as shame or nervousness, and I get nervous and tell myself I'll go see the doctor right away. Then they lay low for a while and I chill out.
Heat rash is for wimps. For people that get asthma and can't eat spicy food. For people that need air conditioning and two showers a day. For those who sunburn easily and wear a bicyle helmet when nobody tells them to. I thought I was more like Tarzan than Rick Moranis, but I guess I was wrong. I'm gonna see a doctor this week and hope it's not something creepier like a fungus or bed- bugs. But first we'll see if a day or two at the beach can take care of it- I can't help but have faith in seawater for all things skin-related.
Speaking of skin, did you white folks know that black skin is firmer and less stretchy than ours? When Beninese people started telling me that, I found it ridiculous until I pinched my arm-skin, and theirs. Big difference. Great, another emasculating discovery.
The new-jacks arrive friday. Sixty clean, nervous, excited, idealistic, extremely American men and women who don't really have any idea what their life will be like a week from now are frantically shopping and reading books to prepare themselves. We volunteers are eagerly awaiting this transfusion of energy, personalities, and of course, date-able singles.
We will go to the airport and applaud their arrival--it's the most exciting moment of the year for our PC family.
I heard some interesting stuff about Kerekou, the ex-president of Benin, last night, hanging with my friend at a buvette. He said Kerekou never finished primary school. I should have asked if he became literate by some other means. Anyway, he came to power through a coup, and many insist that he got and kept power through gris-gris (a spell). He was always saying "the branch will never break in the hand of the Chameleon" and carried always a stick with a carved Chameleon.
My friend was there in Cotonou one day in 1989 when there was a mob in the streets waving machetes and calling for his head. (I think I was at a Bar-Mitzvah party at some Beach Club). His car stopped and he got out, holding his stick. The people ran away. He called them back and told his bodyguards not to shoot. He walked about 2 km, my friend tagging along, got back in his car, and that was that.
Then again, my friend, whose motives I strongly trust, also told me that the whisker of a Panther is deadly, and can even kill thousands of people. Dry it's harmless, but stick it in some water or any liquid and it creates a deadly poison. It's not gris-gris, but the natural property of the whisker. Of course, since Africans are forever seeking the downfall of those close-by, there are those who collect and sell the whiskers for use as a poison.
Oh yeah, another Panther fact I never knew- apparently, they don't eat the flesh of their prey like lions do, they attack at the neck and suck the beast dry of its blood. Hmmm, that one is interesting but a bit hard to swallow.
My point is you gotta take everything with a grain of salt.
Now I'd better go to bed. G'Night...
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