September 30, 2003

It must be impossible to express exactly why the past seven days have felt like months. I was dizzy at the realization my staging roommate gave me just hours ago that we have only been here for our first week. And that's not even the first week in Benin. It's two days of PA, the day and a half of travel and four days in Benin!

For those of you who receive Ben Chen's emails, he's exactly right the people here are amazing. Travelers, ambitious, idealistic yet still down-to-earth, diverse, interested and fun. In Philadelphia, I met the group of 38; 17 of which are in my Small Enterprise Development (SED) program. We've been getting to know each other over Philly cheesesteaks, our staging introduction in PA, our 3 hours to New York, 2 hrs of waiting, 7 hrs to Paris, 7 hrs of waiting, 6 hours to Benin and now our time here in Cotonou. Uuugghhh.

On the last plane I got to test out my rusty French with a Beninoise man who is a doctor in Paris who insisted I take his card to email him in case I had any questions about Cotonou. I've begun to experience the desire to help and to be hospitable is a regular trait found in the Beninoise.

My first night in Cotonou, we had an introduction to the life of unreliable electricity as we arrived at the airport after dark. The scuffle to find our bags was quickly forgotten as several current volunteers welcomed us with Bon Arrive, Bon Arrive! Again, a new realization I have come to find common is that the French here is often times translated directly from the local languages and so when in France I would hear "Bienvenue," in Benin it's "Bon Arrive." And the Beninoise accent almost makes them sound like Texans speaking French, which surprisingly makes it more difficult, not more clear to my Texan ear. The current volunteers took us out and I felt like I was at Crown and Anchor but in the fourth dimension. American music, long wooden tables, surrounded by familiar faces, having good conversation. Randomly, we had a Michael Jackson dance contest between a Beninoise and a volunteer: hat, gloves, the moves, everything!

But something was off and with the morning, the light showed exactly what it was. The infrastructure originally constructed by the French has drastically deteriorated over the years. As the Beninoise still have a socialistic and communistic mindset due to their recent history and so they lack initiative and the know-how and the resources to better their environment. The pollution chokes down your throat; a few cars and tons of zembijohns (mopeds) driving in every direction with little attention paid to traffic laws or pedestrians. When they seldom do, and you see the zembijohns get backed up at a red light, it feels like watching Roice and Cole at a track day on their motorcycles with everyone vrooming at the starting line. Pedestrians are pushed off the sidewalk by piles of dirt overflowing into the street, women cooking and selling behind tables full of goods, beggars who are lame, piles of trash, etc. Women carry huge loads of fruit, vegetables, brightly colored fabric and products to sell in the market in huge baskets probably the diameter of a tire on their heads. In the market, we kept getting asked where we wanted to go by the taxi drivers and getting yelled at "yovos!" No one flinches at the chaos.

We ventured to the beach for a day even though it was forbidden to swim because the tide is so strong (especially on that day) and the beach so steep that even if you are in waist deep, it can suck you under and the best swimmers don't get out. Clear skies, long sandy beach, huge waves. Small straw huts lined the beach for shade as we read, played football and volleyball, and drank from coconuts. On our way out, I opened the window of the car as I was trying to position my camera to get a good picture of the endless forest of palm trees. We passed several people lounging against a stone wall. A woman saw my camera and thinking I was trying to take a picture of her, she jumped up, her pagne (dress) fell below her breasts, screaming at the car. One of her sons (~5 yrs. old) threw a handful of sand at the car just as I was able to shut the window. Another (~7 yrs. old) jumped up with his cutlass and began running after us. Startled and glad to be in a car, I found out another important rule here don't take pictures unless you ask permission. They believe that you are taking a part of their soul with you with each snap.

So enough of my gradually diminishing ignorance and on to that other thing I'm here for. I've received much more information on options for my job over the next couple of years. I actually have a lot of input on what I end up doing, where I end up going and what my lifestyle will be like. I still won't find out until half way through training. So I'll let y'all know then. After a French interview, I thankfully got placed in the advanced group, which means I get to start learning Fon (the most prevalent local language) right away. I'm looking forward to moving in with my host family in Azove on Thursday for the duration of training. I think they've been easing us into new food and too much exposure in the "big city." But I promise plenty of recipes for anyone who likes to cook in the somewhat-near future.

Sorry this was so long winded. I'm never offended if you just skim or even delete, but do let me know how you are doing every now and then:

It was good to see everyone before I left even though it got a little hectic towards the end. I miss you all!

Bisous, Sara