There is Health

There's a very old man who every morning sits under the same tree, wearing the same long robe, with the same walking stick. He sits in the tree's roots like he's reclining in a lazy-boy and every morning we say the same greatings to each other in Lokpa:

Me: Did you wake up well?
Old Man: There is health. Did you wake up well?
Me: Yes, there is health.
Old Man: And your efforts?
Me: There is health.
Old Man: And your husband?
Me: I do not have a husband.

[at this point--and I swear this is every morning--a look of hurt surprise crosses the man's face]

Old Man: And me? Am I not your husband?
Me: No.
Old Man: But we will be married.
Me: No, I do not want to.
Old Man: You do not want to? No, I am your husband.
Me: No.

At this we both burst into laughter, I tell him I am on my way to the health center and we say goodbye--until tomorrow morning when the entire exchange is repeated all over again.

This is a snapshot of what I've been doing for the past three months. Greeting people every single time you see them, no matter if it's the exact same interaction you've both had millions of times before, is so incredibly important here. Its a way of recognizing the presence of others, giving them respect, and cementing your relationship with them. It is something I will be doing for the rest of my service.

In a week I leave for Porto Novo to finish the final two weeks of stage afterwhich (I'm promised) we can begin in earnest whatever projects we might currently be thinking of. My homologue and I have been kicking ideas around like starting a mutual health aid society, a sanitation/trash pick-up campaign, and composting for fertilizer. My postmates and I want to hold information sessions on birth spacing/family planning and sex ed for International Women's Day and we've also begun planning a girl's camp for this summer.

All-in-all I sound pretty busy. Some of these projects may never get off the ground or eventually prove inappropriate or ineffective in my community. And then there's the one or two that really seem to work, that I'll spend the majority of my time on. But there will always be that ever-present, never-ending giant project: greetings. Going out into the village everyday and talking to people. And refusing, every morning without fail, to become the wife of one old man.

Excuse me as I make myself into a liar...

Well, a surprise meeting in Nattitangou (the nearest big "city") has led me to the world wide net so....hello again!

Post is....amazing! Normal day:

Wake up at 7 am (or earlier if I hear the call to prayer around 6), boil water for drinking and for oatmeal, eat and get dressed.
Around 9 or 10 I leave the house (after having done some housekeeping such as washing dishes or doing laundry by hand...) and I start walking around and "saluating."

This is an elaborate process: number one, it's in Lokpa a pretty hard, local language that is really only in this small corner of Benin. Also if I happen to be saying hello to an older person, especially an older man, I am required to crouch down/remain bowing for the entire time which could include such questions as: did you sleep well? did you wake up well? how is the morning/afternoon/evening/night? how are the children? how is your house? how is your work? how is your husband?

This last, when posed to me, is responded with "I do not have a husband." This, without fail, is met with peals of laughter and then wild pointing at the nearest man, or the speaker if he is male (thus indicating that I should marry him). At this I emphatically say "no!" and wag my finger in their face which we both laugh hysterically at for a number of minutes. We then look around at other people, passing animals, baobab trees, and then I say "ok, I'll see you later!" and I move on to the next person to start the entire process over again. This is so incredibly fun!

Life's little essentials:

Water-->I pay a minimal amount for some neighboring girls to bring me pump water which I then have to filter and boil for three minutes before I can drink a glass. Like I said earlier I do laundry by hand once a week, and I take fairly regular bucket showers (i.e. I pour freezing water over my head with a bucket).

Food-->I desperately try to cook edible meals for lunch with varying degrees of success but for dinner I always eat over at some welcoming neighbors' house. The food: something called yam pile (pee-lay) which is DELICIOUS! I'm not sure how to describe it...think of mashed potatoes but the consistency of something akin to clay accompanied with sauces/meats/or cheeses, sooo good!

Buying things-->Market! The big market at a town called Kassua is every Tuesday and it's amazing! Just about everything you could want (ok, no spices really, or vegetables to speak of...and some fruits..but this will change depending on the seasons..) and its chaotic and loud with vibrantly dressed women who want to bargain with you in Lokpa. Fabulous.

Ramadan will end soon and there's going to be a huge party in my village that everyone's going to, but before that I've promised my neighbor that I will "do the fast" with him for one day--no food or water from sunup to sundown, plus praying five times a day....this will be interesting....

End consensus: this is going to be fun.

Two Years Left

Well, stage is winding down just as Ramadan begins--everyone here for the most part has passed their French language exams (myself included) and on Friday we all swear-in as real, live Peace Corps Volunteers!

Looking back, these past nine weeks have flown by, even if it feels like we havent really done all that much (this according to my 'normal' coneption of what constitutes work...but let me just say that holding intelligent conversations in a second or third language is incredibly hard work, thank you very much). On Sunday I leave for post and for the next three months we are all mandated to remain there as a sort of lock-down, hard core integration, sink-or-swim sort of deal. This is both exciting and terrifying but in reality its sort of like a 24 hour hang-out bonanza. This will also mean that I wont have internet access until basically December so if youd like to know whats up, call my parents (also if you would like to call me directly, get the info from my parents: 269.651.3833).

Post visit was really fun--the area is *gorgeous,* I met a few of the people who work at the health center and I had a long conversation about development, poverty, and slavery with one of my neighbors who also happens to be a zemidjan (motocycle taxi driver person). So that was pretty great. Also I have some fantastic post mates, just an excruciating bike ride away, and a fairly decent cement house given that it has no electricity or running water.

Im about to run out of time here so I guess I'll write again in December as an actual volunteer!

p.s. Sending me stuff: please do:) apparently that first address I posted is the final one so use that...also if you want to add some religious warnings on the package to discourage theft that can never hurt (write: 'Dieu vous regarde' which means 'God is watching you'). Ang, about sending me money probs not a good idea just because it could get lost and I dont want to deal with exchanging it and I get enough cheese as it is, but thanks for the thought!

p.p.s. visiting me: if you are so inclined and have the extra cash please do:)!!! Just talk to me about it so we can plan way ahead of time. I would love to see any one of you out here, let me know!

Tu es enceinte?

Sample interaction (in user friendly English):

Beninese woman: Are you pregnant?
Me: No, no Im not.
Woman: So why is this fat? (points to my stomach)
Me: Uh..I just ate...

Besides that delightful conversation, last Saturday I helped kill a chicken (which we then plucked, cooked, and ate) and yesterday my papa took me and two other stageaires to his home village to "walk" around and say hi to people. In actuality this same village is flooded for three months out of the year so we ended up boating around on small, slim vessels called pirogues.

Ive found out my post, its a small village in the northeast, close to Togo. I am replacing another volunteer who did a lot of work in building latrines, weighing babies, and community education. I will have no running water or electricity, and the local language is Lokpa (gna nelim--good afternoon). Next week we all go to our posts to check everything out, meet with our Beninese counterparts, and see what we need to buy in terms of furnishings. Then its just two more weeks till swear-in and we all become actual Peace Corps volunteers (insert the exclamation point that I cant find here)

A Long Post, or My Beninise Life So Far...

The other day my host papa drove me to "class" in sheets of rain, so much so that it made the dirt roads nearly impossible to navigate, all the more because his car is equipped with non-functioning wind shield wipers. Then--in the middle of the road--we stopped. "C'est fini" he says. We've run out of gas. So, he goes to look for some telling me to wait in the car. But don't worry, all was safe--the Beninois know better than to go out in the rain...funny that...Fifteen minutes later he returns--drenched--with gas, we laugh for a bit, and continue on our merry way. C'est la vie.

Well, despite (or because of?) such minor incidents as the above and the daily bike ride of terror, complete with goat-dodging, I'm loving every minute of life the Beninese way. Stage (pronounce this with your best French accent) is going great--today we weighed some babies at a village just outside of Porto Novo and this weekend we're going to Ouidah to visit a Python Temple.

My host family is amazing I currently live in a baller house (just as nice as anywhere in the US except for no running water--bucket showers anyone?) My mama is a diva hairdresser who claims that I don't eat well (or at all in her opinion) and my papa, as you can already, tell is pretty much awesome. There are ten children in the house ranging from 2 to 23, although it is not clear if they're all from the same mother or even biologically related.

Regardless, we pass the time by watching tv (yay for spanish soap operas) and dancing to Akon, Akon, more Akon, and maybe some Michael Jackson if I'm lucky. So in summary, I'm happy, I'm healthy, and I'm terrified to be doing this on my own au village. But hey--I've got two years to figure it out...

Just Another Day in Cotonou...

So we arrived fairly on time in Cotonou (a large port city in southern Benin) on the 4th to a massive, living, breathing monster that was the Cotonou Airport baggage claim. Two hours later we entered St. Jean Eudes, a Jesuit/missionary/convent school thing where we're staying until Wednesday afternoon. So far we've been doing a lot of orientation, collecting needed essentials (e.g. bikes and helmets), and beginnning French classes.

Cotonou itself is incredibly chaotic, loud, and dirty--there's tons of pollution. Also, of course, traffic here is insane especially with thousands of zemijdans (motorcycles) zipping in and out of cars and trucks, apparently immune to traffic rules (if there are any). On Wednesday we leave for the capital, Porto Novo, where we'll meet our host families and really begin training. I can't wait!

Quickly: toilets are all squat, I've already had to take a bucket shower (since water and electricity cut out frequently at St. Jean Eudes, and the food is pretty good!)

Staging!

Does anyone know why they call two days of orientation "staging"? This remains a mystery for me. Regardless, it's already over--the past two days have been packed with awkward ice breakers, group projects, and self- and "official" terms and definitions. But despite all that, I immediately felt at home here, everyone is a blast and what's more they're not what I expected. Of course, there are representatives of the "traditional" Peace Corps volunteer (think...hippie...) but no one fits exactly into any one box or category, I love it. Tonight we went to an amazing sushi place then on to just a local bar..I wish we had more time to explore Philly but I suppose we have bigger fish to fry. Tomorrow we get malaria medicine then catch a flight to Charles de Gualle at 6pm. As my last night in America for two years, I have to say that this was a pretty good one. The next one will be in Cotonou, Benin!

Nuts and Bolts...

forgot to mention: my mailing address in Benin for the first few months will be:

Heidi Kershner, Peace Corps Volunteer
Corps de la Paix
B.P.971
Cotonou, Benin

Feel free to mail me stuff...it may take a while to get to me but that's alright. Also, if you're thinking of sending care packages make sure that they're not too heavy..it's expensive to pick them up from the post office!

Also, a word about this blog--I've included on the right some links to a wiki I created with just a few facts about Benin and Africa in general (some of it is a little on the ranting side), and pictures. I have a link to Benin pictures, I'll try to update that as much as possible but who knows what that'll be like..I also included pictures from my trip to Tanzania last summer (for the benefit of relatives without facebook!). Enjoy:D

Leaving on a jet plane..

So as of last Wednesday—when summer classes ended—I am officially no longer an undergraduate at Michigan State, and am now well on my way towards acquiring (as one gentleman I know put it) “more degrees than a thermometer.” But since on-line courses are…on-line…I’ve actually spent the majority of the last two months alternatively watching the Golden Girls (the best show ever made) and trudging through the free Rosetta Stone trial the Peace Corps provides like I was storming the beach at Normandy. Soon however all that excruciating language learning will be put to good use since in just a few short days I will be flying out to serve for two years in Benin, West Africa. Staging, a sort of orientation deal thing, is going to be held in Philadelphia and will last for two days before we fly out for Paris then Cotonou on the 4th. Right now they’ve said that my position will be one of several “community health advisors” (delightfully vague…) and once we arrive, me and the other trainees will be paired with host families and undergo training until September. And that’s for the most part all I know—Peace Corps loves to keep you on your toes and guessing!

Everyone has been asking lately how I feel about going and if I'm excited or not...I always answer with something like "up and down" or "sometimes excited and other times scared out of my mind." But mostly I think I feel ready--to see what's going to happen, what it will be like, and what I'll do. Anyway, I hope you'll follow along (I promise not to be too christmas newsletter-y) and feel free to email my parents at tkershner@charter.net or me at hkershner@gmail.com with questions or whatever (although I can't promise I'll get back to you in any sort of a timely manner)! And thank you so much to all my friends and family for their incredible support, I wouldn't be here without it or all of you!