Thusday, July 19
I'm sitting in historic Philadelphia, having survived two days of icebreakers, vaccinations (neither of which were as bad as I feared) information sessions, and preliminary clique-ification. My group is 59 predictably nice, friendly and interesting people, mostly just out of college...a few exceptions, but I hesitate to talk about individuals since our blogs are linked up like a bunch of non-swimmers clinging together in the ocean...
Sat, July 21
I'm now at PC Head Quarters in Cotonou. Last night we arrived sweaty and exhausted at the airport, having endured a mile-long trail of sweat and tears at the Philly airport when we were left at the wrong terminal. Then came about 20 hours of travel with only movies-on-demand and some really delicious french meals (salade avec pates de saumon, du pain frais, du bon cafe, yaourt, toblerone etc) to comfort us from our fatigue, sadness (other's, not mine) and stench (mine).
Leaving the airport we were greeted like celebrities by about ten current volunteers (Seth, you would have loved this scene), only to be driven to our compound where a couple dozen more were waiting to cheer us. Apparently fresh meat is exciting to those who have been in-country for a year.
Some of the info sessions are excruciatingly slow, but as new york slowly loosens its grip on me, and if I am smart and drink a bit less coffee, I think I will quickly slow down to the Beninese pace of life (we will see...)
All the Beninese training staff seem extremely nice (huge smiles!) and I am very excited to get down to the nitty-gritty of learning french etc. We will continue to stay at our base in Cotonou which is a quiet, removed, lush oasis in this somewhat dirty, energetic city, for another 4 nights, before we split up into our respective sectors for 9 weeks' training. TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) will be in Lokossa, about 15-20 of us, many of whom have already become my prototypical "friends". It's pretty amazing how fast you can meet and get to know 58 other like-minded (relatively) people...
Oh, on the plane from Paris, I sat with a Beninese man from Lyon who is visiting his family in where?--LOKOSSA!--so I got his number and we may have a chance to go out. I have met other frisbee-heads and even a few fellow crocheteers, not to mention a few guitarists, a flautist and a mandolin player with whom to pass some free time...although we haven't had a free minute to jam yet...
I got fitted with a nice shiny Trek mtn bike and helmet replete with tools, lights, etc, and I think I will take the chance to explore a bit of my region, wherever I happen to go (I think I will try to be in the South so I can plug into the Cotonou music scene, but posted in a smaller village without electricity...we'll see what they can do for me).
I was quite emotional the last day in Philly and on the plane, I almost cried once during a short promotional video the PC uses--it just cut to the heart of my intentions and hopes for this experience--and then again on the plane during this sweet French film with G Depardieu about an Algerian boy who is adopted for a time by a French couple from a xenophobic community (called Michou D'Auber)
Well, I gotta go get some shots for Typhoid and Meningitis, the second round of about 10 between my arm and the nurses here... Hope all is well with all of you, thanks to everybody for sending me off in a bubble of love, I will update probably from Lokossa where there is a cyber-cafe...
Peace, David
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Summer in Brooklyn
I am developing the romantic eyes that immanent departure often gives... With less than three week's time before I leave NY for quite some time, i see everything through this lens--"this is new york, appreciate this or that thing, since although it seems very ordinary, soon you will look back with longing for this or that little thing".
As I sit here writing, there is the sound of gushing water on the street below--nearly every day somebody opens up the fire hydrant under my window and neighborhood kids and teens play happily in the street--providing free car washes for the neighborhood, carrying female victims into the intense spray, i even saw them trying to surf the street with a boogie board...
At first, a couple months ago, this bothered me, all the wasted water, and what if there's a fire? The first time I saw it, I even tried to report it, calling the local police station and firehouse, neither of which answered my calls... Walking around my Bushwick neighborhood, I quickly saw that every few blocks there was another open hydrant, this is just how things are in Brooklyn in the summer.
Ice cream trucks' tinny songs, endlessly repeating, become an unheard backdrop over which hot people live out their hot evenings. Sometimes one song will call from one direction, and another from a different direction, creating an unintended but well-appreciated avant-garde duet. An unrehearsed urban Charles Ives composition.
In this time of immanent departure, Basketball-Man, the Union Square superhero who created a short one-man street act out of goofy antics, impressive ball-handling skills, a silly costume, and witty improvised banter, is all the more charming--could anybody as entertaining be performing in the streets of Cotonou? Is there an audience ready to fill a basketball with bills to encourage that sort of thing? I hope so...
New York, I can't live with ya, can't live without ya... will I find another place which stimulates me and sets me at sets me at ease, all at once? Another place with enough diversity to make me feel among my own?
As I sit here writing, there is the sound of gushing water on the street below--nearly every day somebody opens up the fire hydrant under my window and neighborhood kids and teens play happily in the street--providing free car washes for the neighborhood, carrying female victims into the intense spray, i even saw them trying to surf the street with a boogie board...
At first, a couple months ago, this bothered me, all the wasted water, and what if there's a fire? The first time I saw it, I even tried to report it, calling the local police station and firehouse, neither of which answered my calls... Walking around my Bushwick neighborhood, I quickly saw that every few blocks there was another open hydrant, this is just how things are in Brooklyn in the summer.
Ice cream trucks' tinny songs, endlessly repeating, become an unheard backdrop over which hot people live out their hot evenings. Sometimes one song will call from one direction, and another from a different direction, creating an unintended but well-appreciated avant-garde duet. An unrehearsed urban Charles Ives composition.
In this time of immanent departure, Basketball-Man, the Union Square superhero who created a short one-man street act out of goofy antics, impressive ball-handling skills, a silly costume, and witty improvised banter, is all the more charming--could anybody as entertaining be performing in the streets of Cotonou? Is there an audience ready to fill a basketball with bills to encourage that sort of thing? I hope so...
New York, I can't live with ya, can't live without ya... will I find another place which stimulates me and sets me at sets me at ease, all at once? Another place with enough diversity to make me feel among my own?
Monday, June 18, 2007
New Do
My roommate Risa recently gave me a brand new hair-do for my trip to Africa. I'm lucky to live with a girl who actually studied hair-dressing. So what if she only learned to style older ladies' hair...In my book, a nice hair-do is a nice hair-do, regardless of who is carrying the thing around.
I mustn't get addicted to weekly wash-n-sets though, that could get pricey, even in Benin...
I mustn't get addicted to weekly wash-n-sets though, that could get pricey, even in Benin...
Monday, May 21, 2007
how to say "Benin"
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.
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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