**I wrote this on November 9th**
Hello Everyone!
Another week draws to a close, and even though I am pretty
sure that I won’t be able to post this for a little while, I want to share with
you this week’s adventures.
Probably the most noteworthy event of the week is one we all
actually got to share: The presidential election. Some volunteers in the area
planned to get together and spend the night in Banikoara, so that they could
all hear the results together. I really wanted to join them, but I already spent
my two ‘mental health days’ in Parakou for Halloween. Still I was able to hang
out for a bit on Election Day itself, and it was nice to see everyone, catch up
a little, and generally share in the anticipation.
For my part I made sure my shortwave radio had fresh
batteries and set my alarm for 5 am (11 pm Eastern Standard Time). It turned
out to be pretty ideal timing. When I found the BBC’s broadcast, the race was
still neck and neck, but after about 20 minutes, one new station after another
was declaring Obama the winner. As I got ready for the day, I listened to
reactions, Romney’s concession speech, and Obama’s victory speech.
It was a little strange hearing American political news
brought to me by the BBC, but I think it was a good strange. I was so grateful
and excited to get to share that moment with everyone who was listening-in and
watching back home, and to hear the news and speeches in real time. I won’t
deny that I got a little misty eyed at a few moments, one of them being Obama’s
last line, “we are and ever shall be the /United/ States of America.”
Regardless of how you feel about the results, I hope you
also got a moment to feel like you were participating in American politics.
That kind of thing tends to lead to a little introspection, and I couldn’t help
thinking back to the election 4 years ago. That was the first election in which
I could vote, and I remember watching the news come in from one of the lounges
in the dorms at Gordon. That was an exciting time, and I don’t think I ever
gave a thought to where I would be during the next election. I definitely
didn’t guess Founougo! I have no idea where I will be for the next election,
but I hope it’s a good surprise. I hope election time brought back some
poignant memories for you too.
But ok, ok we aren’t really here to talk about my political
inclinations, we are here to talk about Founougo!
This week I thought that my program director, Salomon was
going to visit, and I had kind of planned my week around that. On Tuesday I
learned that it was actually the assistant director, Gbaguidi, who will be
visiting me on the 20th! So that changed my priorities for the week,
and I have been reeling a little bit to get organized. I am winding down
observing classes, but not quite ready to start working with the kids yet. The
lack of fence around the school garden is one big reason for that. When I
thought that Salomon was going to be visiting I reviewed a lot of the notes I
wrote just before coming to post, and it was actually very helpful to see what
goals I have really achieved (gardening and composting at home, getting to know
the schools, working on my map of the community) and what things I still want
to focus on more (learning about latrines here in Founougo, learning more
details about the status of the trash organization, and establishing strong
relationships with community members).
For your amusement, I will share a journal entry which I
recently re-discovered, but wrote the week before I moved to post:
“I am kind of dreading going to post. I am worried it’s
going to be hot and I will have nothing to do, especially nothing productive,
and I will be angry with myself for that, and lonely, and will have nothing to
eat but carbs.
I feel like if I had an easier post I would feel differently
and because of that I kind of complain proudly. If I felt confident that I
could get good food, and if I had electricity and could easily communicate via
the internet, I would feel differently. Those would be a safety net, which I do
not feel like I have.
I must imagine it going great. I want to make friends with
everyone.”
That last sentence is sort of an in-joke. When I was little
I once said, very seriously, that I wanted to be friends with everyone. Now in
general, I was pretty harsh in this journal entry because it was private, and
it can be good to vent. I am sharing it now for a little bit of 20-20
hindsight.
In fact, when I first re-read this entry, I had to laugh to
myself. The thing is, it IS hot here, and sometimes it is lonely, and sometimes
I don’t feel like I have much to do (and I certainly eat more carbs than I did
in the States), but the thing is, it is o. k. I am learning to make the
challenges (like lack of electricity) work for me, and for every moment of
anxious frustration there is ay least an equal and opposite (if not greater)
moment of feeling lucky to make an unlikely friendship, or the satisfaction of
communicating effectively in a different language and culture, or just the joy
of appreciating a sunset or a night sky that is new and different and
beautiful. I think the anticipation of challenges during training was much
worse than working through challenges has been now that I am finally here,
living my life. And yeah, I hope and expect that more work is going to build up
gradually as I get to know people and needs better and better.
And on that note, a few anecdotes: Summer (the volunteer
that I replaced) had the local nickname of Maimoona (may-MOO-nah). People very
regularly call out her name when they see me. Some of them still think that I
am her (though I think that is getting less and less). I think some people,
especially little kids, don’t really know what else to say to reach out to me
and say hi. It’s seems like a pretty good place to start, I guess.
Of course, where I am wanting to establish myself as a new
and unique person here, and as I want people to understand that I am actually
not fluent in Bariba, the “maimoona, miamoona!”’s can get a little wearing.
However, in the last week I got two ‘miamoona’s that I was happy to accept.
There is a woman who sells beignets, or fried dough balls,
close to market, and I always say hi to her. She was one of the first people to
pick up my local nick-name (Bake – BAH-kay) and she always likes to chat with
me a little. I recently resolved to learn her name, which is Subaila (zoo – BAY
– lah, sorry I have no idea how it should be spelled). It took me a couple
tries to remember it correctly. When I finally got it down, I made a point to
call out to her, “Subaila, good morning!” and without looking up she said, “Oh!
Maimoo-er, Bake, good morning” I just grinned, if I can be mistaken for a
person who had two years to learn everyone’s name and the way to greet them, I
will take that!
Another small legacy from Summer is biking. She famously
once rode her bike from Founougo all the way to Kandi in a day, some 80km! I
feel no need to make such a marathon, and in fact I have been kind of staying
off the bike. I am pretty intimidated by the flooded road and the general craziness
around the market. However, there is a long dirt road that leads away from
market, and the other day I decided to get a little exercise (and bike practice!)
and take that road a ways. As I was heading out the door I greeted my landlord,
and with a smile of familiarity he also said, “Good afternoon Maimoona – Bake!”
If I remind my landlord of Summer because I jump on the bike every now and
then, I am ok with that!
Incidentally, right after saying good-bye to my landlord,
one of the kids in my concession came in on his bike. When he heard that I was
going to ‘bike for sport’ a little bit, he said, “We will go together!” I was
more than happy to get in a little unexpected neighbor-bonding time. I hope we
get to bike together again soon. He was also very helpful when the road was
crowded with cows. He knew just the right clicking noise to tell the cows to
move aside. Apparently I need to learn a little bit of cow! (And in case you
are wondering, biking in the Sahel just at the beginning of dusk is beautiful.
I will try to take some pictures.)
To close out anecdotes, some of you have asked about the egg
ladies. Awkwardly enough, the price of eggs actually has gone up right now. I
can’t stand to risk being tricked into paying too much a second time, so for
the moment I have been skipping the eggs. There is always something to navigate
culturally. That one is still to be continued.
As I was thinking ahead to this post, I really wanted to
make a quick comment on my developing perspective on effective aid (also known
as, advice for Christmas donations!). Here is what I am noticing: There is a
place for direct relief aid, or the giving out of things that are very much
needed. The aftermath of a hurricane is an unfortunately poignant example of a
time when food and supply just need to be shuttled to people asap. However,
Benin is not in that type of situation. There certainly are significant needs
here, but the country is stable. It’s been my limited experience that people
are only as foolish, and only as innovative, as people in the United States,
they just don’t always have the opportunities (or safety nets) that we tend to
enjoy in the United States.
(Just today I was doing a food security survey with my
homologue, Baron. There was a section that listed different possible challenges
for farmers, and one of them was ‘inability to get credit’ Baron was confused
and asked me what that meant. In Founougo, there isn’t even a legitimate bank
from which one could ask to get a loan.)
So, if hand-outs aren’t really the answer for capable, smart
individuals who want to improve their station, what is helpful? First, I would
say education. Any money that can be (reliably) put towards scholarships, or
more teachers, or more resources in schools is absolutely money well spent. It
is so exciting already, to see a generation coming up that is more fluent in
the global language of French, and therefore is going to be more capable of
networking, traveling, and gaining new information throughout their lives.
Anything to aid and increase that seems positive to me.
After that I would say the more small scale and specific a
project is, and the more grass-roots, local support and involvement it has, the
better. Cultural translation can be very, very tricky and I am afraid that we
in the West have lost a lot of time and money trying to impose our ideas, (because
they worked for us), in situations that are just not the same. If we can
support people who have good ideas for their own communities, I think that is
going to go a long way for sustainable improvement.
If I can take that one step further I would say that also
gives a lot of weight to supporting artisans and Fair Trade type organizations.
Being a conscientious consumer can take some time and effort initially, but
every thoughtful choice does make a small step towards a better world. How cool
would it be to do an entire ‘Fair Trade’ Christmas, where you knew that for every
gift you bought, the people who worked to make it received a fair pay, which they
could use to support their family. Now, I know those sorts of changes happen
gradually, and it would be tough to completely change one’s buying habits in
one gift-giving season (for my own part I I don’t think I will be succeeding
100% this year). I also haven’t really done my homework on Fair Trade, and have
been pretty carelessly throwing that name around. Not For Sale, Global
Girlfriends, and Equal Exchange, are other organizations that I know try to get
fair pay to craftspeople in developing countries. Like I said before, each and
every thoughtful choice does make a small step towards a better world.
Ok, I hope this all has been entertaining and interesting. I
am sure my perspectives on development are going to keep evolving as time goes
on. I hope I get to keep sharing my ideas with you as I go.
Thank you so much for reading. Being able to share my
experiences with you motivates me to stay focused and to see the humor in the
tough times, so thanks for being on this journey with me!
With love,
Lauren
