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!