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.