Sweet Magoumi

First impressions are pretty funny, right? I remember first rolling into Magoumi thinking, “This is so small and isolated and why aren’t there any normal roads? These houses seem placed at random in a maze-like labyrinth. Oh my goodness!” But after one and a half months my thoughts about Magoumi are “What a sweet magical town nestled gently between rolling hills and fields of corn, yams, rice, and PEANUTS!”  Magoumi has a couple big open spaces, but a lot is packed with houses. And the houses aren’t in walled concessions, but clustered together, which means I walk into random peoples’ living spaces and invade with my foreign bizarreness!

After studying anthropology, I’m a firm believer that a culture and lifestyle are inherently tied to the language. Thus, it’s really important to me to make big efforts to learn Idaasha (I-daaa-cha). The people get so excited as I scramble my way through basic greetings. Here’s a sampler during the morning:

A: E kooni (Good morning)

B: Awareni (How are you?/I’m well)

A: E mon fe? (How are the kids?)

B: Awa. (They are well.)

A:E koanan. (Thank you for yesterday.)

B: EE. E koanan. (Thank you for yesterday.)

A: E surereni? (Did you sleep well?)

B: E. (Yes)

A: Odibokpinde. (See you later.)

B: O. Odibokpinde! (See you later!)

I have no idea how to actually spell any of this, but that’s what it sounds like. It’s really fun to unravel the inner-workings of a new language. And the moments as I stumble my way through Idaasha are frequently filled with laughter and hand slapping. Good times.

The last thing I want to mention is the children in my concession. I live in a cluster of houses with a handful of children faithful to me. Everyday I hear “Madame! Madame!” I watch them play and sing, drum for each other on empty bleach bottles while the really little ones dance the shoulder-shakin’ Beninese dance. I like to refer to them as my body guards whenever any gentleman stops by to greet me. The kids are HILARIOUS. One day they followed me to school. It was before classes were actually in session, so I was just kinda going from room to room, maybe writing notes, etc. If I stopped at one place for a moment, my pack of 7 body guards ages 10 years and younger, would stop and play hide and seek in the various classrooms. But the moment I transitioned across the school yard, I would hear a flurry of Idaasha sprinkled with “Madame, Madame!” I interpreted this as “Hurry up! Madame is leaving! We must follow and protect her in this new and foreign land!”

One of my favorites is a three or four year old named Sharif. He’s such a trouble maker, but such a little charmer. If I shake my finger at him and tell him in French not to do something, a clever grin breaks on to his face, followed by a mirror image of myself, one hand on hip, finger shaking, and garbled French.  SO CUTE! Another favorite is a 12 year old Latifa who was one of the previous volunteer’s good friends. She lives in the house connected to me and is incredibly hard-working and helpful. She’s got a joyous smile and is always curious and eager to learn more. Together we’ve made banana bread (I made her celebrate her birthday complete with candle blowing, fellow girlfriends, birthday song, and cake (banana bread = gateau.).  We’ve started English tutoring twice a week, followed by the Go Fish card game. I’m settling. And nesting. At moments it’s lonely. And exhausting. But then little Sharif will run up to me and hug my leg. Or Latifa breaks out her grin and welcomes me back home. And the world spins madly on. (I am listening to this song by the Weepies and could not help but incorporate it!)