I am slowly acclimating to the heat and humidity over here. I went to the beach town of Gran-Popo and spent a day or two in a hammock on the beach and fully realized the effects of having an equatorial sun. I have quite the tan now, after just one day. My hair is in a perpetual state of frizz and curls (send some hard core conditioners!!!) and I leave the shower area and my house to be immediately coated in sweat – actually it reminded me a lot of exactly the way I felt when I visited Genevieve in New York during the summertime. Except with no air conditioning… EVER. My bed sheets are constantly damp from the humidity and all things wood (including my rosary and necklaces and food packaging) are covered in mold. It’s really impressive how short the shelf life is of most things here without the aid of air conditioning. Luckily, since it’s not the hot season yet (ha, ha!) I can sleep pretty well at night with the windows open and breeze blowing through, but a lot of other people have had to take some time to get accustomed to sleeping without a sheet on top – most nights a pagne is sufficient for a sheet/blanket which makes traveling a breeze because you use the almighty pagne as a towel, dress, beach blanket, and sheet to sleep in!
TISSUE
Now I want to step back for a moment and address an issue that was brought to my attention – the issue of tissue. I am going to explain how tissue works a little bit. Amazingly, almost whatever you could possibly want to wear you can make here and it only takes an impressive amount of patience, photos, pen, paper and at least one or two translators – no matter how great your French skills are. I have seen people have Banana Republic quality trousers and collared shirts made; girls with stretch fabric babydoll dresses; and boys that have Bumbas (like ponchos) with hoodies over long shorts. First step is to find a fabric you like – and they can get pretty crazy. I’ll start taking pictures to show you examples, but just for a taste: I’ve seen cuckoo clocks; spindles; typewriters; wallets with money falling out; UFOs; pictures of the president of Benin, YAYI Boni; Jesus, etc. all in patterns covering someone’s body in the most ridiculous and obnoxious of color schemes. It’s a game for most PCV (Peace Corp Volunteers) to see who can find the most bizarre or ugly of tissues and make it into something great to wear. So, once you have found the tissue you like and have argued for at least a good twenty minutes over the price, you take it to the tailor or couterie (if you’re a girl). The big difference being that a tailor can make pants and a couterie can make dresses and the two rarely ever cross over to the other. I have had four outfits made so far and that probably one of my favorite things to do: we’ll see if I have a future as a fashion designer. I’ll send you more photos as they come. It takes a lot of time to make sure that the seamstress really gets what I want down and that the measurements make sense (my weight has already fluctuated so much since arriving), but it’s so rewarding to have something flattering and made perfectly tailored to your body and needs (i.e. riding a bike in a skirt or hopping on the back of a zemi with a tight dress on).
ABOMEY TECH VISIT
Last week from Thursday until Friday I was in a town called Abomey located in the middle of the southern part of the country. It's rich in Beninese royalty history and was once the home to all the great mud palaces of the Beninese kings. In fact, it is in Abomey where one can see the “walls made with human blood,” which is actually tiny and in a weird museum that it was expensive and painful to get into. Basically I had a rough time of it all. Our group of 14 was split into groups of 4 (who went to the beach town of Ouidah), 5 (who went to the beach town of Gran Popo), and 5 (who went to the crapshoot of Abomey). We were going for “Technical Visits” which was our time to visit a location and witness, first hand, the tourism industry in Benin, it's advantages and shortcomings, and use our findings to write a recommendation on how to ameliorate those shortcomings. First of all, the three men we were scheduled to go see (the Director of the Department of Tourism for Abomey, the Mayor, and the museum curator) either weren't aware that we were coming and weren't there when we arrived; didn't know what we were supposed to be doing and so didn't allow us entry to the sites; or didn't know when exactly we were coming and didn't set aside sufficient time to speak to us regarding the matter. We spent a lot of time walking around in the hot, hot heat, not really seeing anything and being angry that Abomey was so poorly organized even if we had wanted to see some tourist sites we couldn't find them if we tried. We, as Americans, were expecting brochures, easily viewable hotels with signs, knowledgeable staff (our hotel couldn't even tell us where to eat or how to get to the Mayor's office), and a curator whose office was located inside the museum. None of these were present and it made for a very frustrating two days. I did, however, visit the marché at night (one of my new favorite things to do) and got some awesome pictures of the mosque and other sites in Abomey (attached). Friday night we all went to the awesome marché in nearby Bohicon and got stuff to make dinner back in Azovè. After a very, very hectic discuter session with a taxi driver and his two friends (no one really drives back to Azovè from Abomey and it's usually necessary to take a zemidjan the entire hour long trip) we finally got our goods back to the house and made a wonderful dinner (“what's at the marché is in it” casserole). My baking hands are still going strong, too, and I presented a delicious apple tarte for everyone afterwards. Then we went to Gran Popo and the real fun started. If anyone actually plans on visiting, this place is like a real resort to visit. Complete with delicious chocolate mousse that tastes like brownie batter and real steak! Peace Corps paid for it, so I enjoyed every bite. All the stagiaires remaining in our original group of 60 were there (well, 59 as of Philadelphia) and we had a great time hanging out on the beach. Pictures of my post mate and others in my stage are included.
DR. SAVAGE AND THE LONGEST DAY
This past Monday was my last day of administrative mumbo-gumbo. I still have to figure out the banking system, but I have no more health, safety and security, or “this is a cultural exchange” junk to listen to! I am finally, seriously, really going to be a volunteer in two days!!! Part of the administrative day in Lokossa (a nearby town to Azovè – about an hour away), was the regional medical officer's talk. Dr. Savage, yes, that's his real name, went into a lengthy discussion of how Peace Corps Benin is actually considered the “Posh Corps” and that we're big, whiny babies compared to the volunteers in Mauritania. The only real reasons he could give for why was because Mauritania is an Islamic republic and therefore alcohol is not allowed at all and it's the desert. I personally think Peace Corps is Peace Corps and it can't be all that easy for anyone – but I guess, seriously, we have it a lot easier than some other country's volunteers. Working as a Small Enterprise Development volunteer means I am in an ever better position that most of the volunteers within Benin itself. Even after saying all that, I have to say Dr. Savage's talk was a little harsh at times. It was to the point, which is necessary concerning health issues, but then he launched into a full frontal attack on the previous years of volunteers having “thick dossiers” in the med unit. Meaning, we complain a lot, as a country. He read through an anonymous file and I have to admit, a lot of it was superfluous, but by the time he was done talking I felt like going to Cotonou (the med unit) for my intestinal bacterial infection was a sign of weakness and that perhaps I wasn't fit for the Peace Corps. Yeah, it was that rough. He even told us there was a very, very small percentage of “Super Star” volunteers that you see at swear-in and never hear from again because they've adapted into their community, are doing well on their own and having tons of success in projects and work. He said yet another small percentage is “unfulfilled” volunteers that go home early and he credited them with having the inner personal strength to see that they just weren't fit for the Peace Corps and that they should go home. The in-between, he said, was the rest of us; the volunteers who just kind of get through their two years partying and doing some work and mainly just wasting resources. I think I talked to three people after that talk to convince them not to early terminate (E.T.). The man had a great sense of humor; he mentioned that he would love it if we all contracted some great sexually transmitted diseases that were curable (“Get Syphilis, make my day”) because it makes it more interesting for him and they're really easy to cure. The context was in encouraging us to not contract Hep C or HIV – two slightly less curable diseases. All in all, very painful day – glad it's over.
My new address, for all your wonderful, wonderful people out there sending me Reese's pieces and M&Ms and other goodies, is:
HENDERSON, Allison
B.P. 126
Azovè, Benin
Afrique de l'Ouest
Be sure to put “par avion” on your letters because it makes it easier for the postal workers to see that it's going to need to get across the Atlantic Ocean,too.
Hope all is going well, please send some recent photos, or just photos in general as we spend a LOT of time looking at them and describing loved ones at home with one another and it's just a lot easier with pictures.
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