Sunday, December 25, 2011

The Stars


The heavens by night in Benin are breathtaking. The lack of electricity in my village certainly helps, but it’s a small price to pay when you look up at night time. There’s one family in town (the family where the father passed away) who I like to swap stories with. So far I’ve recounted fairy tales such as Rumpelstiltskin, Little Red Riding Hood, the Tortoise in the Hare, even a Harry Potter tale! Haha.

The 24 year old daughter Vivianne told me the story about the stars during my first month at post. Here it is.:

Long ago, there was a great famine in the land. There was not nearly enough food to feed all the families. Sun and Moon, who had many, many children decided that something needed to be done.  The population had to be reduced and a huge sacrifice had to be made.  Someone must sacrifice their children.  But who? They would both throw their babies into the ocean, drowning them in order continue life on the land. This was not an easy action to fathom, but the famine was ravaging the land and causing much suffering.

On the designated day, Moon and Sun arrived on the shores each carrying a large sac filled with their children.  Sun pulled her arm back and threw her children into the water, extinguishing their bright light forever. The sac of Moon was a little different.  For she had tricked her friend Sun. Instead of placing her children in the sac, she had filled in with stones. Moon also quickly threw her sac into the waves. But come nightfall, Moon’s children were seen shining brightly in the sky.

This is why today we can still look up at Moon’s children, but Sun’s children are nowhere to be found.

Football Game aka Party Planning


On my arrival to Magoumi, I inherited a Girl’s Club with a dedicated president named Benedicte. The girls had done some discussions on Health, etc., but the core of the club was a football team. So now, every Sunday and Wednesday, I meet up with the girls for practice from 3-5:30 PM. Practicing and scrimmaging is fun, yes, but it’s nice to have a goal in mind as well. Thus, I promised the girls that we’d organize a match against a nearby team just before winter break in December. Ha! Easier said than done.

I had hoped to play a game against Ouedeme, a village within walking distance of Magoumi that already has a girls club called “Les Etoiles Brillantes.” Unfortunately, they never got organized, so when a volunteer, Mark, in a town about a 40-50 minute car ride away mentioned the girl’s team HE’d inherited, we quickly made plans for a game.  Mark had the great idea that the girls would also give a short speech on a topic relevant to the club. Game plan: Pay for a car to transport the team to Magoumi, girls give short speeches, and then play the game.  Done and done.

Oh wait. The girls require food and water as well. Ok, that makes sense. In the U.S. we give kids orange slices at half time and snacks after the game. But in Benin, food means preparing rice and sauce and cauldrons the size of the pots in Disney’s Fantasia. We’re preparing sauce with fish that is.  We MUST give them fish. It wouldn’t be good if we didn’t. What would they think of us? Ok, ok, sounds good. Done and done.

Oh wait. The girls in Magoumi also want to but ice and sugary packets to make juice. This mentioned in passing while interrupting my lesson with a 6e class.  Oy. Ok, ok, done and done. AND, there are some teachers who’re coming to the game. They can’t eat just rice and sauce like the students. We need to make them sandwiches. With the more expensive fish. Oyyyy.

On Marks end of transporting his team he found a driver to take the girls from Dassa to Magoumi. Great. Done and done. Wait, now the drive wants MORE money. Ok, ok. Done and done. Wait, now the driver is 2 hours late. Ok, Ok, here he is.  Wait, now the police guard en route wants a bribe to let the vehicle pass. Oyyyy.

I was slightly overwhelmed at the increasing demands of each day. But, the girls also showed significant motivation. They got together and petitioned the teachers to contribute money for the food, collecting a total of 6,000 cfa. We made our shopping list:
Tomatoes (fresh and canned paste), Hot pepper, 2 L of peanut oil, lauriat leaves, garlic, Chicken Maggie Cubes (1000 cfa worth!), 10k rice, onions, bread, ice, sugar, orange drink packets, carrots, 1k of salmon fish, and 2k of Sylvie fish.

I feel like that list looks remarkably simple on paper, but in reality it involves walking round and round in a market under the beating sun, hauling around a cement bag of heavy ingredients, greeting people and bargaining. It also involved the day of the match, a trip by me to buy the frozen fish, pick up 30 small loaves of fresh bread, and two slabs of ice the length of my arm. And then holding this while riding on a motorcycle. Not too complicated. Haha. I guess it’s not that remarkable because that’s just what everyday life is like, but it feels mildly stressful at times.

It was really fun to go to market with the girls, watch them make decisions about what to get, if the price was alright, etc. It’s a big responsibility to cook for around 50 people and they did a marvelous job. I was so proud of them!

The day of the game, I delivered all the foods to Benedicte’s house (her mother graciously offered her house for the preparation of the feast!) They worked all day preparing, carried the food to the school and around 2:30 pm, the other team rolled in. Picture twenty girls packed into the back of a semi-covered pick-up, singing songs, bursting out of the truck with their energy and happiness. It was SO exciting.

The girls ate well and then their club president spoke about girl’s leadership qualities followed by a talk by my girls on sexual harassment at school, how to avoid it, and what they can do to combat it. At 4 pm the match began and it was SO SO exciting! There were so many people watching, cheering, and coaching the girls. Girls supporting girls, papas and brothers cheering! It was exhilarating! The second half consisted of my Magoumi girls dominating with lots of shots on goal. But alas, no goals were scored. The match ended with 0-0. I would have LOVED to win, but it was still incredibly fun and rewarding.

There are many kinks that still need working out. Some of the younger girls never got to play despite my many attempts at encouragement and sometimes yelling that the girls who actually CAME to practice consistently should be playing more than those who came only once of twice. Throughout these 3 months, I have also struggled with my role as a facilitator. It’s ultimately their club, they need to make decisions themselves, and do drills at practice of their own volition. Americans won’t always be in Magoumi, so it’s the girls who are the leaders and decision-makers. But at the same time, I feel like they need to apply a little more discipline to their practices.

I hope the game was a fulfillment of the hard work they put in, but that it will also serve as a motivator for them to work even harder. All in all it was very rewarding and felt like an amazing Christmas gift to the girls of Magoumi and myself.

P.S. I’m 24 now!!!!!! Wooooo! Also, football in this post refers to soccer…but I’m sure you got that. Also, if there’re any topics you’d like me to cover, let me know!

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Struggle (Collected from my and my fellow volunteer experiences)

Struggle is not eating enough/well balanced diets.
Struggle is every time we get in a taxi and a big mama takes up tons of space and/or places her baby on you lap for the four hour ride ahead.
Struggle is every time we leave the house.
Struggle is wading through seasonal streams (washed from the bushes where people defecate.)
Struggle is getting on motorcycle taxis wearing traditional outfits and trying not to expose the knee.
Struggle is buying onions, fabric, or a watch and figuring out how much they should ACTUALLY cost.
Struggle is suffering with Mr. D (diarrhea) and knowing you have six hours of class ahead of you.
Struggle is waking up to sweep the goat poop off your porch.
Struggle is staring at the large spiders on the wall that build webs at remarkable speeds, but are potentially advantageous at eating other bugs.
Struggle is riding your bike and not seeing the primary school child wearing khaki and lying on the ground. (He was ok, don’t worry)
Struggle is constantly being asked for money. Or candy. By children. And grown men. And women.
Struggle is being clean.
Struggle is breaking the ear piece off your glasses and wearing them crookedly on your face (this has happened to me and a dear friend.)
Struggle is going to market the day after it rains and getting your foot stuck/covered in mud every time you take a step towards the vegetable lady and then being offered piggy back rides from random men.
Struggle is cooking dinner and sweating like you've just run a marathon.

Joy is speaking the little amount of local language we’ve mastered and seeing the shock and delight on a village woman’s face that you know her language.
Joy is being hugged by a 2 year old kid and having him say he loves you.
Joy is teaching neighbors to make chocolate cake (…so that they can make it for you!)
Joy is having a motivated and creative work partner and students who care about your class.
Joy is finding the tofu and peanut butter mamas in village.
Joy is seeing the kids in your concession start playing empty bottles as drums and start doing the classic shoulder shakin’ and cool chicken winged dance by the even smaller children.
Joy is the girl’s soccer team voting on the name La Lumiere Magique!
Joy is the pineapple or banana lady throwing in an extra piece of fruit fo’ FREE!
Joy is having a family that you’re close to in village and having them open up, share pictures, stories, and folktales.
Joy is feeling too lazy to cook lunch and then a neighbor magically bringing over food!
Joy is students walking out of their way to greet you with big grins on their face as they declare, “Good morning Madame!”
Joy is picking up random people's children and making them laugh. And joking about taking the cute kid home with you.
Joy is being in Benin for FIVE months with amazing Peace Corps volunteers.
Joy is carrying a 10 foot mat, rolled, and balanced on my head as I walk around my market town and feel well integrated.
Joy is the motorcycle taxi man (zemidjan) giving you the correct price the first time you ask.
Joy is cooking tortillas and chocolate chunk cookies with fellow PCVs dedicated to deliciousness.
Joy is stretching out on a big mat in the cool night air and gazing at the stars.
Joy is leaving village and realizing how much you miss it.
Joy is feeling like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.
Joy is being a Peace Corps Benin volunteer.