Bisous du Benin!

(written 24Oct2010)

Free oranges
Instant coffee
MY DOG WHO I LOVE!
Rain
Visiting Americans
Jam

I love you all, I hope you have a great week! I finally have my picture software- but the wi-fi isn't working in the bureau this week. So next time I get a wi-fi connection: picturepalooza!!
<3

(written 24 Oct 2010)

I've always had a sweet tooth, that I've never been able to rid myself of. In the States I eat fruit to combat this, and it works. In Africa....I eat sugar. Nutella, candy, honey, juice powder that's added to water (please send more!), cookies, condensed milk. Hmm, anything you can think of. Sometimes I eat chips.

I've also always really liked bread. Oh so, so much. In the States I eat bread with cheese, sometimes salami. In Africa....I eat fried balls of dough. They fry everything here- it's a good method of preserving something. Real bread is kind of hard to find. Fried dough is delicious.

I can literally feel my body deteriorating around me. I am quite quickly becoming addicted to sugar and fats. And what's more- I've begun eating both out of boredom and emotional distress (thank you Oprah). But the only real meals I can put together without forethought are pasta-based. And after I eat a big pasta dinner, it's really only right to follow that up with some sort of dessert. Don't you think?

Food, you are hard to find! No wonder the Beninese life expectancy is like 50.

(written 24 Oct 2010)

I have not been sleeping well. I get in bed at around 8, hoping that this will be the night I drift away. I am contending against four major issues.
Animals in my ceiling
The songs playing from the buvette stereo
The children crying next door
Atticus' schedule

The animals in my ceiling come and go. I'm not sure what kind of animals they are. I had convinced myself at one point that it was a war between rats and lizards. Sometimes there are a whole bunch of them, and sometimes there's only one, whom I call the King Rat. The King Rat runs raids with his rat posse when the lizards get to powerful. Sometimes when the King Rat has nothing to do he sits up there and he eats what must be cardboard. I hit the ceiling with the broom and he'll stop for a moment and then go back to it. The King Rat has no fear, and that's why he's King. Duh. Sometimes there are really loud dropping sounds that are hard to describe, and can't be made by one rat or the King Rat, but many many rats tied together and dropped from somebody on top of ladder. Last night I woke up around 11 at night, and I convinced myself that the King Rat was dragging behind him: a old school boom box- and the entire Celine Dion discography in cassette tape format. He had a party to get to. Why was I convinced it was Celine Dion?

This brings me to the buvette. The music coming from the buvette is not loud. But something about it does not lull me. It's constant. There are some nights I wake up at four in the morning and it's still going. Why? I have no idea. I think that the buvette must have been playing Celine at the time of the loud dragging noise because Celine and the Rat have been linked in my mind inseparably.

Usually from about 8 pm, to 10 or 11 pm, my neighbor baby will cry. Isn't she tired? If she's not crying, then her dad will be talking to some other important men till around the same hour.

When I do get to sleep. I wake up. I go to sleep again. If this repeats itself long enough, it will shortly be between 5:30 and 6 in the morning, which is when Atticus needs to be let out to pee.
These four elements ensure that if I sleep, I am woken shortly after. Or that I will awaken in the morning semi-bewildered having just entered a deep sleep. Or that I will simply write a blog post expressing my general bitterness.

I do use ear plugs. But I take them out in my sleep.
I am thinking of Benedryl...but that seems like a slippery slope.

(written 24 Oct 2010)

So I may have mentioned that for the first three months, I'm not supposed to be working, and I'm just supposed to be getting to know my village. Wellllll... Reine got me started doing mini-sensibilizations the first week in. And I call them mini, cause it's really just me giving a speech while she provides most of the meat of the presentation. If I were doing what I would consider a real sensibilization it would be longer, and interactive, and include a game, and it would generally be awesome. Soo... I'm working on that.
A couple weeks ago I mentioned that I wanted to start a girl's club, and Reine got a group of girl's together in like a day. And now I have a girl's club. And these are all projects that I want to do, and have big plans and visions for in the long term. But I had my first real girl's club meeting this week (there were two others that were just logistical). And it was hard. I had flashbacks to my Lynhaven Elementry school days, because there were girls talking over eachother, and my structure was kind of weak, and I wouldn't say it was a disaster, but it wasn't necessarily the inspirational “Dead Poet's Society” type moment I envisioned. And I realized- I'm not ready.

The reason they give us three months without work is so that we can develop our plans fully and get to know the village fully. But the issue is- that that's awkward.
Here's the Peace Corps volunteer! Yay, she's finally here!
Why isn't she doing anything.... Wait, she isn't even allowed to give injections?

So here's the problem now. I can't really back out of girl's club- I mean I could- but I hear from other volunteers that these things are much more successful if you start them at the beginning of the school year (which is what I did), rather then try to do them second semester. And I do want a girl's club. So do I just hold on and attempt to do something not totally lame for a month or so until I figure out what the hell I'm doing?
There was a volunteer (Naima) before Heather in Penessoulou and her girl's club was hard-core. I've been helping Heather start her's up in Penessoulou, and working on mine in Penelan, and a lot of the girls we're working with are girls that were in Naima's club for the last two years. They have songs, and games, and they know what's going on. But this is an issue for us, because they don't get why we aren't ready, why we aren't Naima, and why things are the same as they were when Naima was here. Naima knows those songs. Naima used to dance with us. You should wash your dog like Naima did.

Poor Heather is teaching her English classes four days a week, and running Naima's old girls club and English club, which are each once a week. And those are just her activities at the school itself. It's too early and it's too much. But how do you let what an old volunteer started just drop? As a new volunteer, I have to deal with the stares in village. As a replacement volunteer, Heather has to deal with not being Naima.

(written 24 Oct 2010)

Oooph. The last couple weeks have been rough. The main problem is that I really want things to be progressing more quickly than they are.
About two weeks ago I realized I was in quite a rut. It is not an exaggeration to say that I am mildly frightened to leave my house- just because anytime I do anything I am treated with celebrity status. People are sweet as can be, but I can't go out on the main road without being followed by children, and having to saluate every single man, woman, and child I come across. And there are also those who want to have extended conversations with me about my health and how my local language (Ani) is coming along. And it's emotionally exhausting. It's very difficult to understand what people are saying, in French or Ani, and reading each situation is draining. So for the most part, I stay indoors.

Which is also bad, because each moment I spend indoors, I am telling myself that I should be outside. Or I'm anticipating that a visitor will come by any minute and interrupt what I'm doing to do something really nice, like bring me a bag of oranges.

It doesn't sound like this celebrity thing is that big of a deal, so let me try to put this in an American context. Imagine walking down the street to buy a latte, and every single person stops you, knows your name, wants to ask you a question. You don't know them but you are obligated to be nice to them, and at least say hello to each person. When you find the latte and buy the latte, a child insists on carrying it back to your house, while another chases your dog with a stick. Rumor starts spreading in the village that you like lattes. People want to have conversations with you about what kind of lattes you prefer. They suggest your dog drink lattes. People come to your house bringing lattes at inappropriate hours when you would like to be taking a nap.
All these individual actions are quite sweet and lovely. Together.....difficult.

So about two weeks ago when I realized that I was living a rather unfufilling life of sheer cowardice inside my American hideaway, I had a long heart to heart with Heather (from Penessoulou) and my friend Eric who lives further away in Pelibina (and who I don't see very often). I came away with a renewed sense of purpose and motivation. I got ideas for more projects I would really like to be doing, and that got me raring to tackle the issue of my village situation. The only way to improve the situation is to leave the house. Obvious, right? So I decided I was going to make a village map- of every house, every cornfield, every well and shop. Which is actually a great idea, because it forces me to go to every single part of the village. It's a big project, and will probably take me about a month. But I definitely have the time.

So for the past two weeks, I've been going out for maybe forty five minutes a day and I make my map. People bombard me- I am courageous and courteous, and it's good! I'm making friends, I found a bunch of new areas I didn't know about. I've actually started talking to my neighbors. But here's where I start feeling a little worse. Because I've made this major shift in my mentality, I'm putting a lot of effort into this, and I'm working towards fixing something that literally plagues me by the minute. And I'm not really feeling a change. I'm still afraid. And I want this map to be working. I was counting on it working. And I know more than anything else that I know, that it will work. But I can see now that it's going to be harder than I thought- that I'm going to have to leave my house in a state of fear every day for a month or two months or three months, or how ever long it takes for me to not be afraid any more.

I did not expect my adjustment to village to be this gradual and this draining. I must say, that a lot of it is due to the fact that I'm the first volunteer at my post, which makes me the first white person for a lot of people. So it's sort of understandable. When we say that the Peace Corps is “hard”, everyone quickly thinks that doing my dishes in a bucket, and having no electricity are the things that will affect me most. I thought so too.

What's hard is making a friend in your village, and trying to explain Jello. And knowing that this person will never ever have any basis to understand what you are talking about. When you are new in a place. And alone. Jello becomes important. Being able to communicate your thoughts about politics and art becomes important. Speaking English is important. Privacy is important.

Nothing is more dear to me then the days I go to Penessoulou to see Heather. She talks about her problems, I talk about mine. We come up with plans and give each other pep talks. We eat bread with jam and make American macaroni and cheese. But at the end of the day, I go home and my house feels even emptier. And when I wake up, I'm exactly where I was before. My bed. In my house. In Africa. And the things that were hard yesterday, are just as hard today. And it starts all over again.

Something that's been helping me these few weeks:
“Courage delayed is fear embraced”
Take this and do something brave for yourself today!
We can all use encouragement.



I've added link to the blogs of some of my friends that live near (and some far)- if you wanna check out what other people are doing they're on the right side of this page!

(written 10Oct10)

Hey ya'll!!! Sooo... there are some developments that have developed. I have a laundry girl! Most volunteers have laundry people, because laundry was created for the strong of heart and knuckles. The way to go when you get a laundry girl, is you really want to find someone who can't afford school. You pay for their school year (which is only like 10,000 cfa or $20, but most families don't have that much at one time) and then they come once a week and do laundry for you. I'm also paying for my girls' school books and pens. Pens are a really big deal here- they are expensive! Anyway, so I knew this girl previously because she's one of the chicks who is going to be in my girl's club. She's really not a girl, I think she said she was 24, but it takes a long time to get through high school here because of financial reasons. Anyway, since she became my laundry girl on Monday, I think that she also kinda became my best friend. She comes to my house twice a day to hang out and we look at magazines. She asks me questions about America and science and where is Pakistan, and what does the first lady do? I really like her a lot. Sometimes she brings friends, and I try to feed them whatever I'm cooking at the moment. She helps me with my awful awful French. And I think she must feel indebted to me over this whole school thing, because girlfriend is allllways bringing me things.

Let me pause for a moment and talk about gifts. Our third day in Benin, a return PCV came and gave us a lecture about the importance of gifts in Beninese culture. And I was like “Whatever, dude. I'm not giving anything to anybody. You crazy.” Of course now I don't think I can really describe how important they are. If you are a volunteer that doesn't buy into the gift system, it won't necessarily hurt you within your community- but if you do the gift thing- you are in sista. Let me try to explain what gifts people give me. Everyday people stop by my house. I have one neighbor who brings me food at least once a day- fried dough that his wife makes, or yams with sauce, or grilled corn or peanuts. I have another neighbor who checks in with me to see if I need my laundry done (although I do have my laundry girl). If I am at a fete or any kind of gathering, I will be sitting on my ass and people will bring me oranges and candy. One of the other girls in my girls club gave me a cute little vase of fake flowers like 30 minutes ago. My entire village is covered with corn, and I've talked with several people about how in America I like to eat the corn fresh from the stalk. They think this is crazy because that's how animals eat corn- here they always grill it. But now that they know I like corn, people are always bringing me corn, both fresh and grilled. Constantly.

I understand the importance of these gestures. These people do not have a lot. Being part of a true community means sharing what you have. Shannon was telling me last month about how bats are the only mammals (I'm assuming besides humans) that truly share their food. Every bat brings back as much food as they can to the den, because they know that some of them had better hunting trips than others and they want everyone to eat well. They do not have a formal system of exchange, but they trust that when they will be hungry, another will step up to help. It's hard to keep up with all these gifts, because I really don't have a lot, but whenever I bake something (every other day), I bring a piece to my main homies. I go and saluate them. I thank them profusely and invite them into my house. I answer their questions about the world. I bring them back fruit when I travel. I feed whoever's in my house. It's fun. It's like Christmas always. Nothing feels better than giving, why not do it every day of your life?

Back to my girl. Today she brought me bananas, the day before she brought me cornstarch, and on Wednesday she brought me A PUPPY! Apparently her mother got it for me! I never told anybody I wanted a dog although I've been secretly thinking about it for weeks. Beninese dogs are meant to be watch-dogs, and a lot of villages will get dogs (or cats) for their volunteers so the volunteer will be looked after and protected. They sort of just assume we want them. So it's a good thing I actually did, 'cause if you turn down a pet, they sometimes get eaten. (Sad fact!)

SO! I have a dog! His name is Atticus! I absolutely love him! We had a prrretty rough start- he was really fearful (I don't know if he was getting beaten or what). He whined all night the first night (of course), and then the next night he completely disappeared in the evening and didn't come back till morning. I think he finally decided that we were a pack on Friday, and has been doing so much better since. He's already pretty well housetrained if I do say so myself, and he's doing really well with coming when I whistle, but he doesn't really know his name yet. I have a basket that he sleeps in, and I'm having the carpenter make him an American-style dog crate. I've watched a lot of Caesar Milan in my time, and I think I'm doing really well as a pack leader! My laundry girl has been giving me training advice and sometimes brings food for him when she visits. She keeps talking about me needing to give him some kind of cake that she is going to buy. Whatever that means. So I'm really glad I got him so far, It's nice to have someone to talk to in English. He makes things much less lonely. I told him all about the Kardashians and mozzarella cheese. And my friend Heather who lives 2 miles away has a dog also and we got them together for a play date yesterday. (And then we biked 25 miles round trip to a marche in the next town. Which was awesome and awful, and will probably be repeated). I put Atticus in my bike bag and he stuck his head out while I biked. That was a lot of fun. Biking, with Americans, and dogs, listening to music on your ipod, on your way to buy stuff. Is there much anything better than that?

I'm gonna run out of battery soon! If you are reading this- congratulations! You made it through another post about Africa! I know what you're thinking, you just want to finish this so you can get back to Glee, and doesn't Shelly know that the new fall seasons have started are there are shows that won't watch themselves? I love you. Have a great day! I hope you use a dishwasher today. And eat Thai food. (And I'm not saying that to be sassy, I really hope you do! It makes me happy to think of American things.)

P.S. I just remembered. I hope you are all watching this season of Oprah, 'cause it's her last and lord knows she's gonna step up and do some crazy shit! Bye!!
Happy birthday mom!

(written 28Sept2010)

I guess I should tell you guys a little about swear-in! I think it'll be short 'cause I'm running out of writing energy. So we had swear in at the ambassador's house in Cotonou- it was very fancy. The ambassador has a lovely lawn, and this like Native American art collection in his sitting room. And big fancy couches, and air conditioning, individually wrapped American flag dessert mints, and official matchbooks with the United States seal. I stole two. His wife is just midwestern and lovely. Apparently they both lived in Niger for like 5 years working as anthropologists with some random tribe. They are cool peoples. There were camera men, and important members of the Beninese government, lots of Peace Corps officials, and our host families at the event! Except my host family didn't come even though they told me they would. They suck. When we repeat the official swear-in oath, I got all misty eyed, and it ended up meaning a lot more to me than I thought it would. We were all elated and giving each other hugs and congratulations. The whole thing was even better because each sector had their own matching tissue, and what is better than having a matching outfit with twenty of your dearest friends?
Afterwards there was a little cocktail hour and we got free sodas and beer, and there were tiny pigs in a blanket and cheese sandwiches, that got eaten up in about three minutes. It started absolutely POURING, and the beautiful lawn turned into a swamp, and a couple of us took off our shoes cause it was just too squishy. It was a really fun day.
For lunch me and Shannon and Matt went to “DFC” which is like crappy Beninese KFC. I got a hamburger, and the bun was made out of a waffle. A waffle bun. Think about that. It was not that good, cause it was just so dense, I couldn't finish it and gave the rest to Matt.

A note about the goodbye to my host family: there was no dancing, dancing, exhaustion, like my dad claimed there would be. My parents gave me a beer and I read a book in the living room while my aunt got her weave changed. And when the time came for me to leave in the morning, I never got to say goodbye to my dad because he went and took a shower when it was time for me to go. They suck. And even with all their sucky-ness I am very grateful to them. They were my family, good or bad. And they always will be.

MY CONTACT INFO HAS BEEN UPDATED!!! (as has the list of things i want mailed) Please don't forget about me, I love to hear from you guys, and I miss you all so so much! Write me!
Sending lots of love.

(written 28sept2010)

My day to day generally consists of doing a lot of chores, which is pretty much what African people do all day, so I'm feeling pretty bien integre. I've really liked the cooking I've done, but that requires a lot of dish doing. I finally figured out how to set up my cot in my little backyard and I've been drying my dishes in the sun on that- which is working really well (P.S. Totally Shannon's idea). I've set up a clothesline back there too for my underwear. It's culturally unacceptable to let other people see any of your underjunk, so you have to find a secret place to dry it. The regular laundry can go in the line in front, and there's always laundry I should be doing. Sometimes...I do...some of it. I sweep my house about three times a day, because now that I actually have control over my surrounding I'm absolutely obsessed with keeping things clean (and more importantly bug and animal free). There's water to boil for drinking. There's water to get from the pump (which in reality Reine's domestic does for me, but I have to go find her and ask her to do it.) There are sometimes bugs to kill, but it hasn't been that extreme. My favorite is sweeping and finding tiny bugs that are alive and then just sweeping them up in the pile. Because there's nothing they can do about it. And then I just throw them outside! Sorry little men, there's a war on here. Either rally your troops or prepare for annihilation.

Each day brings somethings new. I've been meeting friends in village, going on bike rides to Heather's house, saluating old people in Ani (sometimes). What's interesting is that I never really know what expect- what a shock- TIA (this is Africa). Today I had a little bit of a lazy day in the morning, and then Alassane came by (surprise!) and dropped off some curtains he bought for me in Togo (surprise again!). He and Reine are always just giving me things, I love how they see me and Heather as family already. And family is just how it feels. Anyway, I ended up having a longish conversation with Reine about what we want my role to be in the village, and what projects I'd like to do, which was the first time I'd really talked with her about it. When we were chatting some teenage girls came by (surprise!), and I got to talk to them a little bit about how I want to start a girl's club. They were really into it, which made me all the more excited. The girls brought me to this wedding party that was happening down the street- more dancing! I can't ever predict how the day will go, and that usually means it will go somewhere awesome.

I've been working really hard the last couple days on getting started with my actual work- trying to identify the resources in my community, trying to figure out community priorities, and what it is that they really need most. I've been reading a lot of Peace Corps books about how to get started on your projects and how to ensure sustainability. It's fascinatingly complicated, and the more I spend time here and educate myself on aid systems in Africa, and what actually works and does not work, I better understand the mess this whole continent is in the begin with. Aid is one of the most complicated and intricate issues of our time (in my humble opinion). What's more important than what you do, is how you do it. It may seem simple to come in and build a latrine for a poor African school- but what does that latrine mean to the community? Will they use it? Will they maintain it? You have to a arrange the resources and provide the opportunities for the community to do things for itself. If they want a latrine that is sustainable, they have to build it themselves. And your job is to make that possible, all the while, handing over leadership, encouraging them to work within their own resources, and basically making yourself as invisible as possible. So interesting. And hard!

My main goal in my village is going to be working on decreasing teen pregnancy and school drop-out rates for my girls. What an impossible problem! I'm excited to get started!
I feel like the main thing holding me back right now is my French...it's hard to be patient with myself because I have so many ideas about what I want to do, and I feel like my village must think I'm an absolute idiot because I can't express opinions or ideas. Arg!

(written 23Sept2010)

So I'm officially in village! I've been doin the real deal since Monday (the 20th) and so much has already happened!! My homologue is keeping me super busy, and I feel like it'll be a while before I get the Peace Corps boredom. Let me apologize in advance, cause this was kind of hastily written, and might be a bit of a chore to read.

Sunday was my moving day. I somehow managed to be magically assigned a taxi all to myself, which was good because I had a lot of stuff to move around. After driving like 6 hours up from Porto-Novo, I had to stop in Basilla, which is Shannon's town) because a volunteer whose post has closed left a lot of stuff for me: two tables, two chairs, a cot, a giant water basin, general tupperware type things for food storage. We brought all that stuff to Penelan, and unloaded, and then backtracked 2 mi. to Pennessoulou (which is where my friend and closest volunteer Heather lives) to pick up the bedframe and giant food chest the carpenter made for me. The food chest is like an armoire with mosquito netting on the doors so that mice and bugs can't get to your food. It's super rad. My best purchase. A bunch of old ladies showed up at my house out of nowhere to help me move, and wouldn't let me do anything- they kept taking bags out of my hands and carrying them in. Heather's neighbor Alassane (he's a dude fyi) zemmed over with Heather to check out the house and for a brief visit. After they left there was a mini “welcome-Michelle” dance party in front of the health center! And they sure do love a dance party. The dancing isn't that hard core, there's mostly just like 4 or 5 women swaying, but they really really like it when I come dance with them. And I really really like to do it! We went to the buvette (bar) after and had some dinner, and that was pretty much it. See! Totally busy!

Monday I tried to unpack most of the day. I don't think anything really happened in the morning. In the afternoon Alassane and his wife brought Heather to town again because Penelan was apparently having some sort of fete in celebration of women? Which was just another dance party in our marche area. But this one was bigger! And you give candy and Nigerian 5 dollar bills to people who are dancing well, which really means everybody. So the candy keeps getting passed from person to person. And why were we using Nigerian money? We all went to buvette again and had Malta, which is Guiness' version of near-beer. It kinda tastes like molasses. They made us drink two bottles each.

On Tuesday I saw my very first, real life, not kidding, human baby, BIRTH! My homolouge had told me that I had to give a speech on vaccinations around 8:30, and when she wasn't at my house by 9ish I decided to mosey on over to the health center. A baby had just finished being born, and they were cleaning it off! I thought that was exciting. And all the villagers kept telling me “Good job!” and “Thank you!”. And all I did was show up late and hold the baby. As soon as the first mom got settled, one of the women who actually works with us at the health center, and has been ready to pop for a while, started going into labor, and I got to see that sucker beginning to end! I gotta say, for being in the middle of the bush in Africa, my midwives really did a great job. There are a couple weird things they do here though- mostly they will not let the woman cry out, and some mommas get whacked by a midwife if they get too loud. But that's pretty much how Beninese people react to everything. Once the baby came out it got a little on the whiny side, and the midwife that was cleaning her gave her a few good whacks. That's right old African lady, get 'em started early. They pierce the ears of all the girls, and they do it right after birth. The ears are so soft, they just push the earring right in. That was cool. The moms also have like zero rest time. I saw both of the mothers from that morning walking around at the vaccination event later that afternoon. Mothers generally go back to the fields like pronto. Hmm, what else? The weirdest thing about the birth to me was the placenta, because I guess I had never really seen one before. It looked kind of like a heart because there was just so much blood in it and it was all veiny. Cindy! I thought of you carrying your placentas at the hospital!

Anyway after all that, the vaccinations were supposed to happen and I was supposed to give my speech. But my homologue disappeared probably to do something important, so I hung out at the event for a couple hours, and some women showed me how to more efficiently shell peanuts. It was fun! I never did give a speech. Which is probably really for the best.

Wednesday we had a mini Peace Corps reunion! There are five of us that live fairly close together (fairly, not super). Jared (english teacher), Shannon (environment), Eric (health like me), and Heather (english teacher too). Shan and Jared came to my house in the morning and we made kick ass mac and cheese from the Peace Corps cookbook. We didn't have any onions, so I went to ask my homologue (I'm just gonna call her by her name now, because homologue is a lot to type out- her name is Reine). Instead she just gave me a bowl of onions and tomatoes and and eggs from her chickens. Fresh eggs, yum! That woman is such a gem, I'm telling you. Anyway, the mac was made with vache qui rit, which they have in the states (laughing cow)- it's like those little triangles of “cheese spread” in the refrigerated section. It was sooooo f-ing good. My first taste of almost American food since I've been here. Oh man. Let me relive the moment for a second. So good.
After that all three of us decided to walk to Heather's house 'cause that's where we were meeting her and Eric. It's about a 2.5 mile walk, and it was pretty awesome, because we were really walking through the African jungle. We saw a hornbill (like Zazou from the Lion King) and I just about lost it. Near the end of the walk we got caught in a giant thunderstorm, which was very wet, but beautiful. I'm glad we all got to share it together.
When we got to Heather's she made us hot chocolate and I charged my stuff! We didn't stay long. But it was lovely to see everyone and touch base after out first couple days!

Apparently every Thursday my health center holds prenatal consultations. So I went to a batch of them yesterday and Reine showed me how to fill out the Beninese maternity health cards. So I gave a little speech to the ladies about the importance of attending all their prenatal exams, and matched up their health cards with our maternity cards. Then I sat in on six of the exams, and Reine dictated the measurements, and I filled them out on the cards. I was really proud of myself, 'cause it was pretty complicated, and totally in French, and I learned a lot about the Beninese health system, pregnancy warning signs, and the different tests my center is capable of doing. It was fascinating. We sold mosquito nets to the women who needed them, and I learned how to fill out the mosquito net sales notebook. I really enjoyed it a lot, and I think it was really helpful to Reine cause she could go three times as fast with me there.
After all this, I made BREAD! Which was soo sooo sooo good. So good. It was yeast based,. I let it rise twice, which was super fast because it's always 90 degrees out. In the P.C. we use dutch ovens. You put your loaf pan or whatever into a large soup pot. You have to have like a can or something on the bottom of the soup pot so that your loaf pan doesn't touch any of the sides of the pot. And you put the lid on and just set it on your stove on low. It produces dry heat and will just bake anything you want! A thunderstorm hit just as the bread was coming out of the oven and I sat on my mat and ate warm bread with butter and honey and jam and nutella, and listened to it rain like crazy outside. It felt so nice. And I did it all myself!
I think I might get in the habit of making bread every week or so, because they just have Togolese bread in my village, which is kind of like Wonder bread and is bordering on super lame. It gets kinda stale quickly, and just has no ummph.

(written 14Sept2010)

So this week is swear in! I'm getting ready to move out of my host family house and mosey my way up to village. This is going to be my last blog for a while- probably. Or maybe just like two weeks- it depends on how quickly I settle in and get desperate for the sweet sweet smell of big city pollution and the internet cafe possibilities that accompany that. I'm pretty anxious about the move, because I don't see how two people are going to fit all their worldly belongings into a regular sized taxi. And it's like a regular move in the US, which is generally sucky because there's a lot of box lifting involved. Swear in is Friday, move in day is Sunday, and apparently my host dad is throwing a giant fete on Saturday, which he described as “dancing, dancing, dancing, and exhaustion”. That makes me nervous.
The swear in will be a lot of fun, everyone is staying over at a hotel in Porto-Novo and I'm assuming it's just gonna be a giant dance party. It'll be nice to be a real volunteer, and get the perks of real volunteer- like money, and replacement glasses, and alone time, and generally the ability to make one's own life choices. We're throwing the swear in at the Ambassador's house, and he's a cool dude. He likes volunteers and opens his pool on Saturdays so we can take a dive. I saw him on TV last week talking about September 11th and felt kindred.

I have just realized that the internet I was going to use to post this as I'm writing it right now is down- so this will probably seem really old when it is put up. Since there is no internet, I've sort of lost my motivation to write any more, but I hope you all are doing great!! Talk with ya soon!
Xoxo