My last 24 hours (plus four hours) turned out to be surprisingly representative of my time here in Benin.
The Simplicities of Life
I had already sold my computer to one of my friends in Djakotomey who had been eyeing my computer for some time now. So, I had a lot of free time to read books (I finished Breakfast of Champions and almost finished Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil) and walk around my empty house. It was nice being able to read for extended periods of time and to lounge on the floor of my newly austere home (due to giving most of my furniture to Meredith and some to my friend).
Cultural Differences
My proprietor, who is also my neighbor, told me the night before my last night that he wanted to eat dinner with me tomorrow (which was my last night at post). He said it was 'obligatory', meaning of course he wanted to have dinner since I'd be leaving, indefinitely. I was excited for our dinner since my mama next door is a good cook and I really enjoyed chatting, talking about politics, trying to explain my views on development, and practicing my French with my neighbor. So when 19:00 came along, I figured we might be eating sometime within the next two hours. I had an early lunch (10:30), but ate enough to tide me over until dinner. I waited. And waited. Talked with my proprietor and sent him an email using his computer/internet key (cause I didn't have a computer) so he could 'keep in touch' and around 21:30 he turns to me and says, “So, mama is in Cotonou! This is why we are in the situation we are in.” I assumed the 'situation' was the lack of food. He then told me he'd be back. I went inside to read. He came back and went into his home. I heard the turn of the key, locking their door. My stomach grumbled.
Around 22:30 my mama came home. She sounded tired and went straight into her house. I thought I heard the familiar *thump,thump,thump* of the wooden paddle mixing the pate inside the cauldron. But when I looked outside, the exterior light of my neighbor's house was turned off. Meaning, they were in bed, sleeping. The tricks your mind can play on you when you are hungry.
So, my last night at post, I ate nothing.
The Generosity of the Beninese
The other day I had bought some sweet potatoes (my favorite!) from a lady who never sold them before and I noticed that she was pulling the deep fried potato wedges out of the oil with a plate. She would corral the wedges to the lip of the wok and then dump the pieces into the colander to dry. I noted that this lady needed something to help her not burn her entire leg. Thus, I swung by to drop off a slotted spoon I had laying around my house. She was so excited by this small gesture that she called over her entire family and energetically told the story of how she received this spoon from me. I started pedalling away (I felt awkward) as a trail of 'Merci's followed behind. I raised up my left arm and pointed to the sky, the symbol for 'Thanks be to God' (since they seem to love to say that here).
The Simplicities of Life
I had already sold my computer to one of my friends in Djakotomey who had been eyeing my computer for some time now. So, I had a lot of free time to read books (I finished Breakfast of Champions and almost finished Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil) and walk around my empty house. It was nice being able to read for extended periods of time and to lounge on the floor of my newly austere home (due to giving most of my furniture to Meredith and some to my friend).
Cultural Differences
My proprietor, who is also my neighbor, told me the night before my last night that he wanted to eat dinner with me tomorrow (which was my last night at post). He said it was 'obligatory', meaning of course he wanted to have dinner since I'd be leaving, indefinitely. I was excited for our dinner since my mama next door is a good cook and I really enjoyed chatting, talking about politics, trying to explain my views on development, and practicing my French with my neighbor. So when 19:00 came along, I figured we might be eating sometime within the next two hours. I had an early lunch (10:30), but ate enough to tide me over until dinner. I waited. And waited. Talked with my proprietor and sent him an email using his computer/internet key (cause I didn't have a computer) so he could 'keep in touch' and around 21:30 he turns to me and says, “So, mama is in Cotonou! This is why we are in the situation we are in.” I assumed the 'situation' was the lack of food. He then told me he'd be back. I went inside to read. He came back and went into his home. I heard the turn of the key, locking their door. My stomach grumbled.
Around 22:30 my mama came home. She sounded tired and went straight into her house. I thought I heard the familiar *thump,thump,thump* of the wooden paddle mixing the pate inside the cauldron. But when I looked outside, the exterior light of my neighbor's house was turned off. Meaning, they were in bed, sleeping. The tricks your mind can play on you when you are hungry.
So, my last night at post, I ate nothing.
The Generosity of the Beninese
The other day I had bought some sweet potatoes (my favorite!) from a lady who never sold them before and I noticed that she was pulling the deep fried potato wedges out of the oil with a plate. She would corral the wedges to the lip of the wok and then dump the pieces into the colander to dry. I noted that this lady needed something to help her not burn her entire leg. Thus, I swung by to drop off a slotted spoon I had laying around my house. She was so excited by this small gesture that she called over her entire family and energetically told the story of how she received this spoon from me. I started pedalling away (I felt awkward) as a trail of 'Merci's followed behind. I raised up my left arm and pointed to the sky, the symbol for 'Thanks be to God' (since they seem to love to say that here).
The morning of my departure I walked over to my bread/egg lady (who was featured in my biking around Djakotomey video) to say my farewells. The day before I had brought over a few pots to give to her in thanks for the two years of free eggs and other treats. As I stood saying good bye to her she grabbed a 400F loaf of sweet bread and a packet of margarine (800F?) and gave them to me. I gave her a big marche mama hug and when I looked in her eyes I could see tears forming. She and I couldn't communicate that well, but we got our points across. She was a lovely lady.
The Ridiculousness of the Beninese
As I left my bread/egg lady's house I had a warm feeling in my stomach. With a bounce in my step I decided to give my final regards to the local police (the 'gendarmes'). I said my farewell to the man on duty and as I walked out a kid lingered by me. I immediately noticed that this boy seemed very very familiar, but from where? And why? As he trailed me he asked me if I was leaving to the states and if he could request something from me. Then it dawned on me.
This boy looked much like Bryce, the kid who stole my camera (and other stuff).
As this boy continued talking I realized that he was asking for things that he wanted me to get him from the US. At this point, I stopped walking and looked at him and said, “I believe your brother did something bad to me.” (pretty much a direct translation because I momentarily forgot the word for 'to steal' in the heat of the moment) He looked at me with a sheepish grin, “Bryce? Yeah, he's a joker.” I rolled my eyes and told him, “Au revoir.” I think he got the point that I was not too happy by the actions of his kin.
Some Things I Never Got Used to (aka I don't like) About Benin
The Ridiculousness of the Beninese
As I left my bread/egg lady's house I had a warm feeling in my stomach. With a bounce in my step I decided to give my final regards to the local police (the 'gendarmes'). I said my farewell to the man on duty and as I walked out a kid lingered by me. I immediately noticed that this boy seemed very very familiar, but from where? And why? As he trailed me he asked me if I was leaving to the states and if he could request something from me. Then it dawned on me.
This boy looked much like Bryce, the kid who stole my camera (and other stuff).
As this boy continued talking I realized that he was asking for things that he wanted me to get him from the US. At this point, I stopped walking and looked at him and said, “I believe your brother did something bad to me.” (pretty much a direct translation because I momentarily forgot the word for 'to steal' in the heat of the moment) He looked at me with a sheepish grin, “Bryce? Yeah, he's a joker.” I rolled my eyes and told him, “Au revoir.” I think he got the point that I was not too happy by the actions of his kin.
Some Things I Never Got Used to (aka I don't like) About Benin
I walked into my concession at 8:30, holding my bag of sweet bread and margarine. My mama asked me if I had received presents from people. I said yes. She responded, “I am waiting for my presents. Which is why I have yet to set up my fabric shop.” I responded, “Oh, haha, yes.” But I didn't really understand exactly what she said until I got into my house. I figured I waited long enough to give all my remaining 'stuff' to my neighbor, so I called them over and showed them all the stuff they'd be inheriting. They were happy.
My taxi driver told me he'd be doing maintenance on his vehicle (even though he knew two weeks in advance that I'd wanted to leave at 7:00 on Friday, September 10) in the morning so he wouldn't arrive until 9 to 9:30. I figured he might show at 10. When he didn't come at 9:30 I called. No answer. 9:45, no answer. 10:00, “Hello?” “Hey, where are you?” “I'm already on my way!!! (almost annoyed sounding)””Well, I've been waiting 30 minutes...” Network connection lost.
I figured if he was on his way I didn't need to call him. 10:30 “Where are you?!” “You told me to wait 30 minutes so I am here.” “WHAT?! I said I was waiting for 30 minutes ALREADY! I told you I wanted to leave at 7:00, you said you had maintenance till 9:30, why aren't you here?” “Okay, I'm coming.” 10:45, no answer. 10:55, no answer. 11:05, no answer.
I was pretty steaming by now. Then the main gate of our concession opens up. My driver! No, the ex-president of the artisans, probably the biggest politician I've met in Djakotomey (besides the current mayor). Just my luck. “Dennis! I heard you were leaving and I wanted to wish you well!” (I have not seen this man or talked to him since I first came to my post visit during training in 2008) “Oh, thanks. Yes, I am finished.” “Us artisans thank you for your work and look forward to another volunteer.” “What? I didn't even work with you. You aren't getting another volunteer. It isn't necessary.” “Oh, don't say that. We love the volunteer.” I won't continue with the quoting because you get the drift of where my tone and this guy's tone was at. We continued for five minutes and I was tired of everything, so I called it quits and called up my moto friend. He came to pick me up and we went looking for a taxi.
At 11:30 I had all my gear in the new taxi I found and was sent-off by three people, two of which I had little contact with during my two years. My other taxi driver wouldn't call me for another 30 hours, but I would miss the call. I should have known better...
My taxi driver told me he'd be doing maintenance on his vehicle (even though he knew two weeks in advance that I'd wanted to leave at 7:00 on Friday, September 10) in the morning so he wouldn't arrive until 9 to 9:30. I figured he might show at 10. When he didn't come at 9:30 I called. No answer. 9:45, no answer. 10:00, “Hello?” “Hey, where are you?” “I'm already on my way!!! (almost annoyed sounding)””Well, I've been waiting 30 minutes...” Network connection lost.
I figured if he was on his way I didn't need to call him. 10:30 “Where are you?!” “You told me to wait 30 minutes so I am here.” “WHAT?! I said I was waiting for 30 minutes ALREADY! I told you I wanted to leave at 7:00, you said you had maintenance till 9:30, why aren't you here?” “Okay, I'm coming.” 10:45, no answer. 10:55, no answer. 11:05, no answer.
I was pretty steaming by now. Then the main gate of our concession opens up. My driver! No, the ex-president of the artisans, probably the biggest politician I've met in Djakotomey (besides the current mayor). Just my luck. “Dennis! I heard you were leaving and I wanted to wish you well!” (I have not seen this man or talked to him since I first came to my post visit during training in 2008) “Oh, thanks. Yes, I am finished.” “Us artisans thank you for your work and look forward to another volunteer.” “What? I didn't even work with you. You aren't getting another volunteer. It isn't necessary.” “Oh, don't say that. We love the volunteer.” I won't continue with the quoting because you get the drift of where my tone and this guy's tone was at. We continued for five minutes and I was tired of everything, so I called it quits and called up my moto friend. He came to pick me up and we went looking for a taxi.
At 11:30 I had all my gear in the new taxi I found and was sent-off by three people, two of which I had little contact with during my two years. My other taxi driver wouldn't call me for another 30 hours, but I would miss the call. I should have known better...
0 comments:
Post a Comment