Gobble

Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you are all enjoying the cold weather in the States. It has moved here from really hot and muggy to really hot and dry, so I guess some change is better than none. Since my last blog a lot has happened.

First of all, thanksgiving. I headed up to Dassa to celebrate with the other volunteers in the area. Tony, who is the volunteer that we visited, has the most picturesque Peace Corps post I can imagine. It is set at the foot of what is arguably a mountain, although some might call it an enormous hill. We got the chance to climb it and check out what is by far the best view that I have seen since I have been here. I don’t think the camera really does it justice, but let’s just say that I started singing “Lion King” songs when we got to the top. I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

Tony also has a German volunteer that lives right behind his house, so he gets to have a dose of that clear German thinking that I love so much (I know what you're thinking "But Rich! It’s not natural...having another volunteer nearby"). He works at a butterfly sanctuary, whose justification for existing was “because all the other animals are already protected and people would just kill butterflies for fun”. I got that explanation from an employee there. Quite honestly, as a tourist, which is what I was, I wouldn’t have cared too much if it was a sanctuary for albino pigeons as long as they had a fridge and helped us to prepare the turkey. As a volunteer though, I can’t help that there was probably a better use for that money…say, maybe people? Anyways, we made the turkey Beninese style; indiscriminately chunked and fried with onions.

Surprisingly, it was delicious! I made mashed potatoes when some of the other volunteers brought stuffing, cakes, and other goodies. Because egg beaters were in short supply, I used this giant plunger looking thing to squash all of the potatoes. I got to lick it afterwards too! It was a wonderful break.

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As for my work, things have taken an interesting turn. It turns out that the women’s groups that I have been working with indeed just wanted to see an American there, because every time I would ask them if they want to start the accounting formations, they’d always say that they don’t have the money to buy the supplies. This left me in a bit of a pickle as I’d have to bring these supplies every time to the meetings yet they would remain unused. Pretty much, I have given up on trying to teach them for now because they don’t seem all too interested, not to mention that keeping books on 3000 CFA of bread that is sold for 3500 CFA might be more effort than it’s worth. I’ll keep helping Madeleine with the savings and credit part, but I’ve begun searching elsewhere for work with accounting.

On the brighter side, I have my first real formation with the artisans next week which I really think will be interesting…as the artisans actually seem interested. The only disadvantage of working with the artisans that they have no concept of punctuality and proper planning. This characteristic follows through the ranks all the way up to the president, who is 1.5 for 5 on planned meetings right now. The .5 is for when all the artisans were present, but at a different location listening to a different presentation. I clutch to hope though, as I was told that the first thing I needed to put in my mental suitcase was patience. The only thing that worries me about all this is that this sort of behavior is rubbing off on me. I have recently lost 2 notebooks and a pair of cheap sunglasses. Maybe its just the malaria medication…

French lessons have continued in full force. I have officially finished my first book in French called “Under the Storm” am headed off to my next one by a French man called Balzac. It is dense… The great part about taking French lessons still is that it forces me to save my money, because every Franc I give Pierre is a Franc I have to wait at least 3 weeks to spend. Also, it forces me to venture into the world of excessive vocabulary that even my teacher isn’t familiar with.

As for my secondary project, things have really come together. The Parisian, or Baba Oyingbo as the locals call him, offered our group his car to head up to Ouesse to see the Center for Children in Difficult Situations which was built with the help of a PC Volunteer (Sebastian) who oddly enough got the largest part of his funding from my cousin’s wife’s grandmother. Because it was recently built, we thought it would be valuable to see what sort of obstacles we could avoid, not to mention that we could see what sort of work we could do together, assuming that a center of sorts is built in my town. Well after this trip, Mr. Djosse (my French teacher), Mr. Waaby (a community member who helped the last volunteer), and Mr. Urbaine (the Parisian) were all pretty much convinced that this was going down in our town as well. It was funny because I was still thinking about whether or not these guys were sold on the idea, but Mr. Urbaine just said one day, “when we build the center etc.”, and since then it has moved into the planning phase.

Sebastian's Center for Children in Difficult Situations

We will form an association with the help of the said members as well as Ms. Saka who works at a local NGO for UNICEF and Madeleine, the woman with whom I do savings and credit groups. The purpose of the association will be to protect vulnerable children by supporting them so as to obtain the bare necessities (food, clothes, school, lodging). The function of the physical center will likely be a place for the kids to stay until a suitable family can be found to take them in. Basically, it will be to let the kids be kids, so they don’t have to worry about anything but what a kid should (homework, friends, fun). Currently, we are working on drafting statutes and rules, all of which have French that I do not completely understand. I have to take everything home and read it with my dictionary to understand completely. Don’t worry,though I know what “Richard nous donneras tous de son argent” means. Really, what we are doing was explained as somewhat of a formality. The one part that worried me was when we arrived at the part concerning the powers of the Executive Director, who is hired by the General Assembly (much like Universities have Presidents and Chancellors). The reason that it made me nervous was because my French teacher, who has hinted at wanting to become director, was not satisfied that the Executive Director could not vote regarding committee decisions. The Executive Director is paid, while the others aren’t. I don’t think that he completely understands that Executive Director doesn’t mean “Supreme Ruler”. For me, it was fun to see people getting heated about things like this, just because I feel like truth isn’t always given a chance here. It’s more just who can seem right. In a setting like this, it is pretty much on the table. I think my teacher needs to learn the phrase “conflict of interest”.

Church Ketou paved

So anyways, the statutes are done, and next we’re off to make rules and visit other orphanages. I’d estimate that by the end of January I’ll have put together the plan to apply for cash and start fundraising. As for the name, they threw around about 20 different versions of Center for, Center of, Center concerning , the support and accommodation of vulnerable children and families. Creativity isn’t really their strong point here. I threw in the idea of choosing something that represents our goal. So….I present to you all…LE BOUCLIER. (Go get your dictionaries out, you’ll laugh). It’s cheesy, I know, and is still subject to change, but they were all so excited that they didn’t even want to try another name. I think it gets the idea of protection across…even if the TV show stars a man puts the hurt on evil men.

Things to look forward to:

1. My new house. I didn’t tell you I’m moving? Oh, well I am. Running water, kitchen, shower, AND TOILET. So much for getting my water out of a well and pooping in a hole. I have enjoyed it, but it’ll be nice not to have to worry about getting bit by mosquitoes while I’m doing my business.

2. Mobile banking. Fraser and I have been brainstorming, and I’m about to flex my ever illusive networking muscles.

3. CHRISTMAS! I bought a baby tree and put singing lights on it. It’s just like home!

4. World cup?

Prayer Requests:

Guidance with all work, especially with Le Bouclier.

Patience with the general absence of punctuality (and attendance) for the majority of people here and the sense to not let it rub off on me

Continued good health for all the volunteers

A rejuvenation of faith during this holiday season

In the Groove

Eka Ro and Bonjour! Figure I’m due here for a quick entry. Things are going well! This week I got to start my formations for accounting for illiterates AND literates. I’m also in the early stages of planning out whether or not I’m going to build an orphanage. I’ve been keeping relatively busy also with my French lessons. I’ve been doing them for 2 hours, 4 days a week. Honestly, I didn’t realize how beneficial the Peace Corps would be in terms of my own education. For 1500 CFA and hour, a little more than 3 dollars an hour, I get my own personal tutor. Considering that I paid about 35 dollars an hour in the US, I’d say that it’s a pretty sweet deal. I’m also learning a little bit of Nagot from him that I’ll be able to use at my formations.

Trombone lessons

In an attempt to not forget everything that I learned in college, I’ve decided to start a science club. I thought it was a good idea after I ran into this kid at church who has been trying like crazy to build both a model airplane and model helicopter. I’d like to get a consult from my fellow alumnus of U of I Engineering: Please look at the attached pictures and let me know your professional opinion about why these craft aren’t flying. Please ignore the cords that are attached to them. Funny as it is, I’m actually really impressed with how crafty this kid is and even though there is no way these things will ever fly short of having a rocket attached to them, I admire his curiosity. He even managed to rig up motors that he took out of radios to make the propellers turn. He powered them using either an adapter plugged into the wall or a stick of about 6 D batteries taped together. He says he “kinda” likes math, so sadly I don’t know if I’ll be able to recruit another enginerd.

As for the formation, I guess it was more of just an introductory thing. Normally, Madeline(pictured here) and I go to the formations together, but this time she was running late. So, because I had done 2 lessons of Nagot, I felt confident enough to do one on my own. Ha. What really ensued was me standing awkwardly in front of a group of confused women while frantically searching for the Nagot word for blue, red, green and the different denominations of money. I guess my only saving grace was that I was actually speaking some Nagot, which amused them. Once my friend did finally show up, my group seemed a little tired from counting colors, circles, squares and converting them into numbers. I went into showing how they could use this, but because this wasn’t really an official session, I quickly noticed that they weren’t to content listening to me speak French (which they don’t know). When all was said and done, I’d say it was a partial success, I just hope they stay interested.

My house is doing alright, but I’ve been having problems with bandits stealing my bread in the morning (I think it’s just the girl next door). So, as any responsible Peace Corps Volunteer would do, I’ve hired a guard for my bike. I think people will think twice before trying to get through him. His name is Fauzad and he is 3.

Last weekend I headed to Porto Novo for a nice lunch and a gripe fest with all the volunteers. Andrew, who is the guy that I visited on my Tech Visit, and I just kinda stayed out of it. I’ve started to realize how easy going I can get when it comes to red tape and fun things like that.

It being Halloween, I guess that it wouldn’t be fair to not have a scary story to tell.
So after lunch, it was getting close to 3pm, so we figured we’d go hang out the local buvette and have a beverage. Well it started getting closer to 4:30 and I realized that I’d probably need to get going soon if I wanted to get home before sunset. When I got to the taxi station, I was informed that I was the first person to show up for a 9 person taxi and that the 5 person taxi had left literally 2 minutes before I got there. I wasn’t thrilled, because I had to leave my friends, beer, and English, and not to mention that I’d probably end up waiting another 2 hours to leave. Luckily, it was only an hour, but that put me leaving at 5:30 when the sun goes down at 7. So per usual, we crammed way too many people into the taxi and got underway. The man sitting next to me was a Pentecostal pastor that spoke English, so while it made for good conversation, I constantly had to defend misconceptions about Catholicism. Regardless, I still made another friend in town. I found out about half way through the trip that my new friend had come to Porto Novo on a moto which had broken down. This meant that we had to stop for another 30 minutes to strap this thing to the roof, and we weren’t even close yet. When we came over the top of a hill, I noticed that there was a wall of clouds coming in from Nigeria that was flashing like the 4th of July. Though beautiful, I was a little unhappy to notice that it was coming straight for us. As we started to get closer, I just sat in awe of nature’s beauty blah blah blah. It was really pretty neat, but as soon as we got to my town (which was at about 9:15) and everyone was out of the cab except for me and another lady, the skies opened up.

Really, I’d never seen a rainstorm like this before. There was lighting all around us and the rain drops felt like they were going to break the car open. Just as we were on the way to drop this lady off, the taxi stalled. As we were sitting there waiting for the storm to stop, I couldn’t help but notice the driver and the lady in the front say “Zangbeto” while they were speaking Nagot. Just what I would need is another run in with the Vodun in the middle of the scariest rain storm of my life. So it was nearing 10PM, and I started wondering when this storm was even going to end as water was quickly pouring into this 30+ year old Peugot. I realized that my headlamp, which I had debated buying before coming, was waterproof up to 1 meter! So I handed it off to the driver who pointed it straight at his nose after strapping it to his forehead, which I think effectively blinded him. He must have known the engine pretty well because he managed to fix it and we got underway. After dropping off the lady at her quartier, we headed back up the goudron to my place. The driver refused to pull up to my quartier since it is nestled back in the woods. So, I strapped on my headlamp, rolled up my jeans, and said a little prayer. Just as I was about to step out, a lightning bolt crashed about 200m up the street and knocked the power out. The driver looked at me kinda funny, and I gave him a “here it goes” look and I hopped out. At first I was a little confused because I didn’t remember there being a river in my quartier, but I guess that it only shows up during torrential rain storms. As I was sprinting back I just remember frantically repeating “Jesus don’t let me die” over and over again in between flashes of lightning. The last river I needed to pass was literally about knee deep and I almost got knocked over trying to ford it. As I recall, fording the river was always the thing that got you killed in The Oregon Trail, but there were no ferries or caulk handy, so I was forced to take my chances. I lost 4 oxen and Timmy drowned L . So after drying off, I managed to get some sleep. Probably the scariest Halloween I’ve had since the Hambone Haunted House. Needless to say, no more traveling at night.

Alright, that does it for me. Happy Thanksgiving if I don’t get a blog up by then! Odabo!

Prayer Requests:
Continued guidance with the possible planning of an orphanage.
Continued diligence with French and Nagot.
Safety and happiness of all the volunteers.

My Eyes Are Up Here, Yovo

Getting close to 3 months now. It’s been quite a ride. Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time with the women’s savings groups. Madeline, who is the woman with whom I go to these groups, speaks French to me but Yoruba to everyone else, so most the time Im left pretty clueless as to what is going on so I have started reading or studying French vocab words. Occasionally I help fill out the cards saying how much the women have saved at each respective meeting. As for cultural differences, most the women have babies, and wearing shirts is not mandatory for them, so to put it simply, there are boobs everywhere. Id liken it to guys having to wear shirts in the states; people feel more comfortable when you are wearing one, but it isnt mandatory. Needless to say, I get blindsided about 4 times an hour because Ill be reading a book and then look up to see a baby breastfeeding.

The CLCAM, which is the savings and credit institution that is sponsoring me, has already started about six different groups that get loans from the CLCAM contingent upon their saving 3000 CFA a week, giving 600 CFA at each of their five meetings. With that, each member can receive a loan of 30000 CFA, or the equivalent of 60 dollars. In order to receive this loan, each member also pays 2% interest back to the savings group and 1% interest to the CLCAM. So in order to receive 30000 CFA, each member ends up paying 900 CFA. Each one of the meetings, 300 CFA goes to the personal savings of each member and 300 CFA goes to paying back the loan of each respective member. Finally, the last stipulation is that each member must have some form of business, which is simply verbally confirmed. There is no need for any sort of documentation to prove this fact, which I kind of found funny seeing as how this sort of lending policy is what created the mortgage crisis and worldwide recession. I guess the only difference is that the individual loans are only about 60 dollars, as opposed to 200k, and the members in the groups are supposed to keep each other accountable so in case one member misses a payment, the other members will be able to make up for that loss. It works very well with the communal living that is the way of life here. The cool thing about this model is that each group is also taught the value of saving their money during each of the formations.

So you might be wondering why this is useful for me. Most of the women in the city here aren’t educated at all. Meaning, they don’t know how to read or write, much less speak French. It really is a perfect area for me to start doing formations of accounting for illiterates. All I really need to do is find a person to translate for me. In addition, I think I’m going to do a little experiment by doing one formation where I try to teach basic addition and subtraction, then go into accounting. With the other group, I’ll go straight into the basic system that was developed by the Peace Corps. The reason that I want to do this is because it’s really easy to make mistakes using the illiterate system, whereas with the number method, a calculator could be used (and calculators aren’t expensive at all). I just want to see which one is quicker in the long run too. The artisans also look excited to work with me, and I think that their counsel is starting to realize that America is not going to foot the bill for their new meeting hall. Although, I do think that they see the opportunity to take out a loan from the CLCAM in order that they can build it by themselves.

As far as secondary projects go, I am still on the lookout, but my French teacher has informed me about the amount of orphans that there are in my town. It’s actually pretty appalling; 20% of just one of his classes have lost at least one parent. He told me that they typically only go to school for about 6 years and then drop out. He added that there is really no center in town for orphans. Before I came to Benin, I was in contact with another volunteer who built an orphanage at his post as his secondary project. Obviously, this is the classic “saving babies” example that you hear about in the Peace Corps, but if the need exists, there is definitely a potential for me to do some real good in this town.

As far as my personal life, things have gone well. I made pizza at my house on a stove!!! It’s not as hard as you might think…just no cheese. I’ve had the opportunity to hang out with other volunteers once a week. Not much new about that. On Friday, I went to confession. It was my first confession in French, which proved to be very interesting. It’s the first time I’ve had to use my dictionary to look up a whole bunch of sins. The cool thing about learning new languages is that all new experiences present opportunities to build your vocabulary, so now I know how to say “I swore” in French, among other things. So the way confession works is pretty much the same in the states. I guess the biggest difference was that they confessional was in open air, and the priest faced the crowd, which kind of defeats the purpose of having the screen that keeps him from seeing who it is because he can see everyone as they approach. Not that it would matter for me anyways; I was probably the only person who did his confession in French out of the whole group, not to mention my accent. I spent the first 20 minutes at the church before my confession reviewing my conscience and dictionary, writing everything down in my notebook so I wouldn’t forget when I got up to the confessional. While the confessions were going on, there was also an adoration happening in Nagot. As I was waiting in line, I just quietly observed the priest scrambling from the confessional to the altar and then back again after he left the Eucharist on display. When it came to be my turn, I nervously walked up to the confessional, and sat down. I explained that this was going to be my first confession in French, all the while noticing the priest had to lean in with his ear pressed against the screen to try to understand me. At the pauses in my confession, the priest started to talk, and I had to kindly remind him that I wasn’t finished yet. Each time he’d softly laugh. I could tell that he was in a hurry once it was his turn to speak, and I could also see that things were wrapping up by the alter. He kinda scrambled through advice, and then I read my act of contrition in English though because I always keep one of those in my wallet. As soon as I finished, he sprung out of his chair and quickly navigated his way to the altar. To this day, I still don’t really know what my penance is, so I just did what I always do. It was a pretty cool experience, and has definitely helped get my faith back on track.

Last Sunday was the festival of Saint Theresa of Avila(maybe), which is the patron saint of our church. After a 3 hour mass with 3 different choirs and languages, there was a party with music, dancing and food. It was a blast and I even got a chance to have a beer with the head priest of the church who speaks English fluently, Father Agnude (really not sure about spelling). He was probably the most educated man that I’ve had a conversation with since I’ve been here that was not affiliated with the Peace Corps. I imagine though if there is anyone who would know the needs of the poor in the community, it would be him. I’m sure that he and I will definitely be working together for the next few years. Unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures L. Don’t worry; it was exactly what you imagine.

On my way home from the festival, I was passing the dirt park that is by my house. The men who own the corn field right next to it had just pulled up the dried stalks and piled them up in the middle of the park. There was a group of little kids who were playing in it, jumping in like I did as a kid with leaf piles. That event really stuck in my mind because during stage, there was an activity we did where we had to describe something that was unique to the US, or at least Europe, and leaf piles was one of them. I got bachelor parties…I’m sure those of you that know me can imagine the awkwardness that ensued from me describing that. But anyways, leaf piles. Not to be too cheesy, I guess it was just one of those simple events that reminded me of our common humanity, which is one of the things that drew me into coming in the first place.

I’ve also been taking French lessons and have had the chance to have some more intelligent conversations. One of the more controversial things that came up was whether or not women should have an education, which led into the question of whether or not there would ever be a female president of the United States. First off, even though I like my teacher, I really couldn’t believe how far back he dialed the civil liberties clock by saying that it is better to have women uneducated because then they don’t argue with you. I tried to explain that in addition to having a spouse that is your equal, you can both have interesting conversations, and at the very least, I tried to explain to him that children that have smarter parents are typically smarter too. He just kinda held his position that women should stay at home, make food, and take care of the children. As far as a female president is concerned, I kindly reminded him that Hillary Clinton (even though I can’t stand her) was a few super delegates away from getting the presidency. Continuing to hold his belief that women are too irrational to run a country (what about Margaret Thatcher?), the conversation started to trail off into other politics.
I guess what I took from this is that in a town like mine, I DON’T AGREE WITH, but can understand how the men could think that there is no way that there will ever be a female president of the United States; there simply aren’t many educated women here. I think with the younger generation, which still isn’t 50-50 boys to girls at school, people will start to realize what the rest of the world started to realize decades and centuries ago about women; they are just as capable and intelligent as men; not to mention prettier ;).
Alright, that’s all I got. Feel free to hit me up with some emails, but the internet card that I bought really sucks so I can only check my email once or twice a week.

Prayer Requests:
-A continued attitude of tolerance and understanding in my conversations with the people that I encounter
-Continued good health
-Success in finding a secondary project for the community as well as success in my primary projects

Well I’d like to start off by apologizing for just disappearing. It’s what some here call “Peace Corps Dark”. But, since my arrival at post, I’ve been a little preoccupied with just getting myself into a normal routine. Though my house is finally setup, I still think it could use a little work as it kind of has….how do I put this…a “jail cell” feel to it. At first it’s a little unnerving, but I must say that the whole sense of my experience so far has just been learning to humble myself and deal within my means; being okay with settling for something that isn’t as great (materially) as I’d hope it could be. Swear in was neat. There were some imortant people there whom I cant remember, but I will let the pictures do the talking when I get the uploaded. But with that, I’ll just start off with a brief summary of what I’ve done since I got here.

The Sunday I showed up was pretty shocking for me. I had to go back to the other volunteer’s house, which was filthy, at best, to retrieve some of his stuff. I later explained to one of the other volunteers that it reminded me of a post-apocalyptic video game I played as a kid called “Fallout Boy”, where you had to go around rummaging through the ruins of abandoned buildings to find things that, if repaired, would be quite useful. Well that’s pretty much what happened. I got 3 book cases, an armoire, a kitchen table, 4 chairs, two little end tables, and then another large table, which proved to be quite useful after I got rid of the mound of mouse poop and dead cockroaches that had accumulated over the last two years (the last volunteer didn’t cook). Needless to say, I’m a little surprised that I don’t have the plague now, but after refinishing the big table and washing EVERYTHING that I got from his place in bleach, I think that I’m well on my way to not having diarrhea for another 2 years.

That night I headed to church with my neighbor, Charles, who plays in the choir there. I told him that after I get settled in, I’d love to start playing in it as well (or at least sing, but I have a guitar now). The mass was completely in French, and actually tolerably short. Maybe that’s because the power went out and a giant storm was rolling through, but either way, I couldn’t understand the priest. Kind of a mumbler. After the mass, Charles and I walked back to our neighborhood while I stubbed my toe on probably about 10 camouflaged rocks along the way. Once we got off the main road, it was more like walking on the bank of a river than a path. I guess rain washed paths will do that to you. Falling a sleep that night was pretty terrifying. I was fortunate to find out that I’m not the only one living in my house; I have a colony of ants that continually burrow through cement, a family of pet mice, spiders and then the always popular cockroach. Thankfully, the last volunteer left me a few mouse traps and they have thus far caught 4. Apparently the reason I have so many pets is because nobody has lived here for 6 months, so they have had time to grow. I remember on my post visit seeing the tallies on the wall of how many mice had been killed there. He got up to 33 and then stopped counting, so thank God that I’m not at that house anymore! So after waking up a few times during the night to the sound of tiny feet scurrying across the floor, I finally got some solid sleep and woke up the next morning ready to kill. Needless to say, that was probably the worst night I’ve had since I’ve been in the Peace Corps.

Setting up the house was a gradual process. It was kind of difficult deciding where to put stuff because after the carpenter came, a lot of things were going to change. My self diagnosed ADD definitely showed up here as every task was interrupted by another task, which was interrupted by a mouse, which was interrupted by a cockroach, which was interrupted by someone coming to visit. After all was said and done, I think it took me about 7 days to get everything put away where I wanted it. When the carpenter came, my main goal for him was to make a hole in my table for a sink, which would just be a basin with a hole cut out of the bottom connected to a poorly fashioned hole in the wall that is not the lowest point in the kitchen area. How anyone washed dishes here before without taking a bath is beyond me!

As for food, I have been getting off to a slow start. Preparing beans here is a lot more difficult than the canned “Bush’s Baked Beans” I used to have for supper every night last year. I’ve turned into somewhat of a vegetarian after seeing how much effort goes into killing and cleaning a chicken. Quite honestly, it’s just not worth the hassle. Still, it’s better than eating everything fried or pat in snot sauce. I do miss good meat though, a lot. I’m sure as soon as my slap chop shows up here, I’ll be a cooking machine!

So you might be wondering, “Rich, it’s nice that you’ve moved in and are comfortable now, but when are you going to start doing something with your life?” That’s a fair question; one that I’ve asked myself as well. Well fear not, because the Artisan’s Association is in the process of trying to convince me why you, my fellow Americans, should help foot the bill to build them a sweet new meeting hall. At first, their plan was hurled because, in their opinion, the place they had wasn’t big enough to house all of the artisans. True as that may be, the plan for the building quickly changed into a training center for orphans and children after I told them that Americans would be more keen to donate their money to people who are really in need (i.e. orphans, single mothers, children, homeless people). Basically, because the last volunteer had helped to construct a handball court for kids and Americans had paid for about 65% of it, they assumed that the same would happen for them simply because the Peace Corps works with them. So, to humor them, at the second meeting, I brought a blank feasibility study with me to leave with them so that they could start to get some concrete ideas. The last question that I wrote was, “why do you believe that your project is more important to the community than other potential projects that could be funded”. That to me is the most important question, and I gave them that feasibility study because I wanted them to realize that if they took my time and resources to build this building, they would potentially be stealing from orphans, sick children, single mothers. If they don’t have a problem with this, well then I guess I’m just going to have to be blunt with them and say I don’t think that it will work, but at least this is helping them to get their ideas together while showing them that I am not just a black check with “USA” signed at the bottom. When it comes down to it, they just don’t need this building to be better artisans, they just want it so that when other artisans come to visit, they can think, “wow, these guys are ballers”. And I guess that brings me to my next lesson that I’ve learned time and again about relativism and capitalism: if some guy has a nicer thing (even if it isn’t that nice from a worldly prospective) someone else is going to want it or something better, or they won’t be satisfied. Oh ya, and nobody will ever really be satisfied as a result. It’s just human nature.
Sorry for the rant. Anyways, to wrap it up, these first 2-3 months won’t have too much intensive work, rather, I’ll just be finding out what the bigger needs are of the village as well as getting acquainted with local artisans and women’s groups so as to be able to facilitate effective formations. In addition, I’ll be trying to find what sort of secondary projects I can do, like the handball court, so I can involve folks at home too.

Don’t forget “Dieu te Regardes” J . Take it easy!