Ma Famille Nouvelle!

On Wednesday, I moved in with my family. We got the picture of the families before hand, and as you can see from the pictures, not too many people smile here. Needless to say, the whole “not smiling” thing had me a little bit worried. My family is called Agnide. I have a Papa, Mama, three brothers and three sisters. My brothers; Fauzi is 22, Faraj is 20, Sabour is 9, then my sisters; Firdaus is 16, Mandjidath is 12, and Chade’ is 2. When we left Cotonou, we traveled to Porto Novo to a development center, which is where we met our families for the first time. When I was looking for my family, I had my Mama in mind, who, as you can see from the picture, is very visible (don’t worry, that’s actually a very good thing here. All of their soap opera stars are a bit on the plump side.) After wandering a bit, Firdaus tapped me on the shoulder and showed me to where Fauzi was sitting. After speaking in some pretty terrible French, I found out how old they were, and we eventually got in the bus to head to their house.

Now there were some rumors that some of us would be staying with some pretty “rich” families, at least by Beninese standards. I pulled up to a gate and immediately some of my family was waiting outside to try to help me with my bags. As I headed to their house, I started to notice that our definitions of “rich” are different Hopefully, I’ll be able to take a video of where I’m living, but just to describe, we live on the bottom floor of what I’d consider a condo complex. As I walked towards the house, mama was outside cooking (which she always is), and as we headed inside, I saw my littlest sister sleeping like an angel on the couch. My other brother Faraj and my sister Mandjidath were also waiting to greet me. I was immediately shown to my room.

My room has one magnesium bulb for light for the whole room. Other than a desk with a chair and a mattress on the floor, I don’t have any other furniture. I have to admit that I definitely got a little bit of culture shock with this. I just kept on thinking “whoah…this is really happening! This is my life for the next 2 years!” After being shown the bathroom, which is a normal bathroom without any running water, dinner was up. They left me to eat by myself, which is apparently customary here. Dinner was great; some sort of potato, pasta, onion, tomato, and chicken mix. After thanking my Mama for dinner, I saw Mandjidath walking Chade’ around. I said in French, “Where’s my little sister?”. Mandjidath held her hand as she sleepily fumbled around the corner. As soon as she saw me, her eyes opened wide and she let out scream and started crying. Apparently I’m the first white person she’s ever come in contact with. The volunteer who was here last year was black and I think Chade’ was too young to know the difference anyways since she probably couldn’t talk. Well needless to say, she’s still pretty scared of me, though she does shake my hand sometimes and she even gave me a kiss on the cheek once. I told her that by the time I leave, I want to hold her in my arms…we’ll see!

Soon after the cryfest, Papa showed up. I warmly greeted him as Papa, and he smiled and said in broken English, “How can you call me Papa? You just met me!” I don’t remember what I said as I was about to make one of the worst first impressions of my life. He asked me, “What is your surname?” and I replied “Pasquesi”. He said, “No no no, here, in Benin!” I couldn’t remember…just kinda said “ahhhhhhhhhhhgg” with a smile on my face. He gave me a pat on the shoulder and walked away. My brothers tried to reassure me that it wasn’t a problem, but with all the business training sessions I’ve been to in my life, the first thing that came to mind is that first impressions mean everything. Ever since then, it seems like Papa is constantly evaluating my French, which I appreciate, but I’m still trying to figure out whether or not he actually appreciates that I’m here. Again, time will tell. I unpacked a little bit and then gave Sabour the soccer ball and pump that I had brought from home. He seemed really happy and the whole neighborhood has been using it ever since. Papa hurt his knee playing with it and kinda gave me a dirty look about it when he told me, but I hope he understands that it’s not my fault that he tripped on my ball when I wasn’t there, nor playing. For all my friends in Italy, this would be the first time I just smile and say TIA (this is Africa). So after teaching them how to play hearts, I headed off to bed.

They all stay up later than me and wake up earlier, so I really don’t know what to think about it. All I can say is “THANK GOD I lived in a fraternity!” because they are probably the loudest, albeit friendly, but still loudest people I’ve ever met. On top of that, the well/cooking area/hangout area is right outside my window which is always open, so I’m definitely reemploying the old “headphones routine” from college. The next morning I woke up to the call to prayer, which for all you non-Muslims out there, is one of five times a day the cleric at the Mosque gets on the loud phone and sings praise to Allah. In Saudi Arabia, everyone would hit the ground and pray every time they heard that, but the Muslims here have been described to me as “Friday Muslims”, likened to “Sunday Catholics” in the states. I guess that’s a good representation of my family as I have yet to see anyone praying. I did express interest in seeing their Mosque sometime though and maybe fasting a bit with them during Ramadan. Anyways, after another hour of interrupted sleep due to roosters and people at the well, I got up. After taking a bucket shower/bath, I had a breakfast of a whole baguette, margarine, and coffee tea (ya they mix them). I headed off to school after that with Faraj.

The school is a compound of about six open air buildings. We don’t use their chalk boards, but rather big sheets of butcher paper. I’m in the middle level of French, but I’m hoping that I’ll move up in the coming weeks. I have been doing pretty well with it. For anyone in the USA who thinks that our schools are inadequate, ours’ here don’t have lights, rarely electricity, and the only air conditioning we have is the wind that blows through the slotted windows that are on the outside walls of the building. We need good teachers first, then work on the buildings (Props to Teach for America). Anyways, the first day was pretty simple, but pretty funny as there are a handful of us with digestive problems (thank God not me) who were running in and out of the room all day stealing the toilet paper from the front of the room. During one of the breaks, one of the local Vodun tribes showed up called the Zambeto. The specific “god” that showed up was the guardian, which was a man that was under what appeared be a stack of colored hay. Apparently, its’ responsibility is to guard the streets at night. We were advised that if anyone sees them at night and they don’t know their “secret”, it’s possible that things can get violent. Only last night did I find out that their patrol consists of a parade of loud drums and horns, so I assume that it’ll be pretty easy to avoid them should I hear them coming.

After school, our bikes showed up (which are totally rad), and Mama showed up to walk me home. After getting home, I talked with the family a little bit about my day, what I learned, and then had dinner. After dinner, they asked me if I had a camera, and though I was a little reluctant to get it out immediately, I took some pictures of the family present. They just love seeing themselves on it! It’s kinda like some women in the states…”Lemme see…ewww I don’t like it…take another one” (inside joke for those of you scratching your heads). I was still suffering from some jetlag, so I headed off to bed. Friday was pretty standard, but I got to hang out with the family a little more. My brother asked me if I wanted to play some soccer, so I agreed and headed over to their field.

The field is really just a half road, half open space. Their goals are comprised of 2 rocks and an assembly of sticks and are misaligned by about 20 yards. This is why soccer is the most popular sport in the world; all you need is people and some sort of ball. Anyway, all the kids in the neighborhood wanted to see what the Yovo could do (that’s what they call white people). Before going my Papa made a big deal about me wearing shoes, but it wasn’t until I got to the field that I understood why. Everyone was either barefoot or wearing flip-flops, and they were doing this while playing soccer, very well. One kid got a piece of glass in his foot too. Well needless to say, this big Yovo was sliding all over the place, and after about 20 minutes (it was prolly more like 10) of running my butt off, I called it quits. I’m just gonna use the excuse that I was jet lagged, but the PC has a game on Wednesday so we’ll see how that goes.

After dinner and a bucket shower, I spent a lot of time just talking with my siblings about French, trying my best to absorb as much as I could.

Saturday was interesting too. I got the chance to get my exercise equipment out and get a quick workout in. You would have thought that I was a professional athlete because it seemed like every kid in the neighborhood was over watching me workout and playing with my jump rope and elastic band. I kept hearing “ Oh Rich, tu es forte!” and apparently my performance has earned me the title of “Rich d’or”, or Rich the Golden (or something to that effect). I joke around saying that I’m “Rich d’eau” or “Rich the Watery”, as I down about a gallon of water a day. I didn’t really realize how much of a stereotypical American I am though. Blond hair, blue eyes, athletic, and my name literally means “rich” in French. Hopefully I’ll leave a good impression of what stereotypical Americans are like.

Apparently my family is really popular around here, and there are people in and out of here all the time who are just friends of the family. It also makes me a bit weary because I don’t know if everyone respects my stuff as much as the family here does, so I lock up every time that I’m not at the house.

Faraj took me on a “promenade” yesterday, where we just walked around town. Every little kid I passed would say “Hey Yovo!”, and a lot of times, I’d hear it from adults as well. The walk helped a lot to start to build a mental map of the city as well. Things are just starting to feel a little bit more familiar, but I have a lot more work to do with the language.

Last night I helped out Mama with making dinner. Normally, she’ll cook over a charcoal stove, and for some reason, she doesn’t use any sort of candle, lamp, light…just the moon and the steady glow of the coals. I thought that it was pretty silly, so I went and grabbed my head lamp and strapped it on for her. She seemed so thankful, and I sat there with her the whole time she cooked for me. I’ve told her and my sisters, who pretty much take care of me, that I can’t let them continue to do everything for me. I think it’s pretty appalling how chauvinistic the culture is. Though I still consider my brothers friends, if they want a snack, they will send their sisters around the corner to go buy them something and not even say “merci”. Mama and my sisters do all the cooking, washing, and cleaning that there is to be done, while my Papa, brothers, and uncle just sit around watching tv or playing video games. I plan on using the excuse that “I have to learn how to live on my own” so that I can help them with stuff. I’ve started out by cleaning up after myself (thanks mom) when I eat, which they wouldn’t let me do before, and it will hopefully turn into me helping to cook and preparing my own breakfast. We’ll have to see how that goes. I’m confident that by the time I leave, I’ll be doing everything on my own short of cooking.

Sunday consisted of biking around with the other volunteers. It’s nice to get a nice dose of English once in a while. One of the trainees, Eric, was doing tricks on his bike and somehow managed to bust the frame on one of the wheels. I guess that means no stunts for me.

So overall, I really like my family. They are generally warm, curious, and protective of me. There is always something to do around here, and if nothing else, I can always study. I feel that we’re really growing closer. My situation here is funny too because in the states, I am the youngest and have 2 brothers, whereas here, I have 3 sisters and brothers and I am the oldest. Hopefully, in time, Chade’ won’t be so scared of me. Life is slow around here. Nobody is ever in a hurry to get anywhere, yet they are always curious about your life and how you’re doing. I have a feeling that I’m really going to enjoy myself here and I hope that my time here will continue to be as rewarding as it’s been.

If anyone is ever curious about calling me, my number is 011-229-96-35-39-68 from US lines. If you’re calling with Skype, just select Benin on the country and then enter 96-35-39-68. I’m always happy to talk, and the best time to call me would probably be from 11 am to 4pm central time. Anyways, I gotta get moving. Take it easy and I hope to hear from some of you soon!

Prayer requests: Continued good health and good health of the other volunteers. Also that I can continue to get closer with my family and learn French quickly. Thanks!