Bisous du Benin!

(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 from 25July to 6August)


Soooo. I'm at host family!! This post is going to be really long, and I hate reading long blogs so I'm gonna try and cut it up so you can skip to the part you care about. A lot of this is going to sound like complaining- mostly because stuff is straight up harder here than in the US, and I'm trying to tell you things that highlight the differences most clearly so you can imagine where I am. I want you to know, I'm happy, I'm healthy, these stories are not meant to indicate that I am not loving my time here, and learning ever so many wonderful things! So don't listen to me, listen to me.


Host stay has been....difficult are rewarding. I have trouble communicating with my family, and often it's not the French that's the problem, it's that they say something is going to happen and it doesn't. Or they say the evening is free, but really stuff is planned. There was a little bit of drama at the beginning, there was no lock on my bedroom door, they were using my gas (which is like the biggest sin imaginable), I wasn't getting fruit with any of my meals, I was being driven late to school. But once I complained, the PCVTs like totally stepped in and straightened everything out for me, for which I am ever so grateful!!! So if you guys are reading this- thank you, thank you!!! My family is really quite sweet, I'm not quite sure why they're dropping the ball, 'cause they've had two volunteers before me, and know the drill. Regardless of these complications, we get along great. My dad really pushes me to work on my French, and is just generally jolly. He's convinced I'm just gonna be the best PCV ever, and “do the best on the exams” (of which there are not really any). My mom I don't see as often, I'm not quite sure why not, but she likes when I hang out and cook with her. And she likes to dance! My sister spends like hours at a time braiding and un-braiding my hair. Which feels pretty awesome. She's also my go-to resource for errand running, and will usually walk with me to find whatever I need to buy. There are two younger brothers, who are alternately whiny and wonderful. They've taught me cool Beninoise card games- which are super fun. The kids do tend to like get their paws in my stuff, so I've hidden a lot of my more exciting technology (aka laptop and ipod) and keep my room locked tous les temps.


My dad is a doctor, and apparently has founded like two different schools. The details are a little hazy, but he's an important dude. He's trying to plan a visit to his health center, because I'm in health, and he's really psyched about that. Anyway, there's like two living rooms in my house, one is nicer than the other. I hang out in the less nice one cause it's downstairs near my room, and because I never know when the upstairs one is locked. So anyway, it's like also a sitting room for patients who come to get IV's at my house. So often there will be a hysterical child or some sort of sick person just chillin' down there while they get juiced. Last week, I was sitting downstairs eating lunch and my sister got a suppository while I was just sitting there.