Tur-Duck-Tard-ed

Happy late Thanksgiving to everyone. And Merry early Christmas.

I spent my Thanksgiving in Parakou with other volunteers. We had a huge meal and a lot of fun. We bought a couple bottles of Tchook (I don’t know how to spell it), or millet beer, which was pretty good. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do the experience justice when I say I had Tchook. So I will say, I had it in a tin shed on the side of the road. We all sat down on wooden benches on a dirt floor. We each ordered cent francs (100 CFA), which amounts to twenty cents, or a shell full. The vender then walked to the other side of the room, dunked a big bowl in a bucket full of fermenting beer and filled our wooden bowls. We sat there exchanging what little local language phrases we knew, sweating and drinking. It was nice to go in there again later and have the venders get really excited to see me.

I don’t know if the novelty ever wears off. Not so much the novelty of Benin for me, but the novelty of seeing, serving, and talking with a rare white person. It is entertaining, but also incredibly sad. It’s nice to see how excited people get that you are there. But it’s sad to know that too often, all you are is a novelty, like a new interesting toy to play with.

I went to eat pate at a buvette near my house in Klouekanme the other day. I don’t know much Fon, but I tried to greet the non-French speaking vender as best I could. She invited me in and paid for my food. Then she proceeded to run outside yelling in Fon. All I could make out was the word, “Yovo,” meaning white or foreign. She was yelling to everyone outside that the white person in town was eating at her restaurant, that I was her friend. I think the implication was that I was not their friend. She then invited people inside to watch me awkwardly eat really hot food with my hands.

So here we arrive at the novelty of me. Oftentimes, the novelty is all I can expect out of people. Serious friendships so far have been too much to ask.

Anyways, at Thanksgiving, I killed a pentard, which is basically guinea fowl. That was nice closure for someone who was a vegetarian for as long as I was. Although, gutting it was less redemptive. We also killed a turkey, a duck, and another pentard. Then we crammed a pentard inside of the duck, crammed that inside of the turkey, and ate well. Hooray for tur-duck-tard. I’m not too superstitious, but it seemed like a bad omen to kill a duck before the Oregon v. Oregon State game. All in all, I think I made the right decision.

Thanksgiving caused me to contemplate my morphing palate here. For example, I never thought I’d say to myself, “Damn, that needs a lot more mayonnaise,” or “They didn’t use nearly enough oil for this.” One of my favorite meals on the fly has been beans and spaghetti inside a loaf of bread with a hardboiled egg and a hefty helping of mayonnaise.

Avocado sandwiches are good, but few and far between. Also good is buying a wheel of Vache Qui Rit, and smearing a couple slices of that over bread. I haven’t been eating breakfast, but I talk about it all the time, and how much I miss oatmeal with peanut butter and some fruit. So now I think a couple volunteers are slicing bananas into their oatmeal and peanut butter. I really should go find that stuff.

Food here is a bit different than in the States. It’s good, and I like it, but it’s taken some time. It’s not just the taste, but also the temperature. I have calluses all over my fingers now from eating ridiculously hot food with my hands. It’s nice to cook for yourself while at post, but a lot more expensive than buying a plate of beans and rice for twenty cents. I’m getting pretty good at making pizzas from scratch, as well as pastas. I am also getting fairly good at making tacos from scratch, although some of the ingredients are scarce. We can find tomatoes and onions; but cheese, and lettuce are difficult. Ground beef can be found, but I try to stay away from the beef here. We’ve been using pork, which works well. I imagine, though, that not many people would be game for watching the butcher kill and slice up the pig in front of you whil you drink a beer across the street.

The tortillas are from scratch, and beans have to be cooked and mashed and refried by hand, which isn’t all that fun in the heat. However, when those tacos are finished, and loaded up, it’s totally worth it. Ça commence, le food coma.

Anyways, veering away from my daily and extracurricular diets…I just got back from our Peer Support Workshop (PSW) in Parakou. I REALLY like Parakou. At the workshop, we all went around the room to share stories from our classes and work out strategies for success, as well as discuss proper TPS report submission. It was decided that me and two other volunteers are basically teaching in the Beninese inner city. None of our disciplinary tactics learned in model school have worked in our classes at post. Kids fight in class, they yell at teachers, they swear, they don’t do their work, the list goes on… It was nice to hear it though; I thought I was just a terrible teacher. This is much easier on the ol’ self-esteem.

So now I have a few strategies for controlling my kids. Time will tell if they actually work. The good news is, another volunteer taught here before. His name was Eric, so that’s a step in the right direction. There is hope.

While making my way around Parakou, I noticed a sign for the Church of Eckankar (I don’t remember exactly how it’s spelled), which I thought was really interesting. Eckankar was the name of a cult or of a cult leader started by Paul Twitchell, I believe in the 70s. I was hoping that someone might be able to send me some information on the emergence of Eckankar in West Africa. I’d be curious to do some research on that, but any background information that anyone could send me would be helpful.

On another note, it doesn’t look like our annual girls camp in Porto Novo will be funded by the NGO that usually sponsors us. So we will be starting a PCPP, which means that you will all be able to donate lots of money to a good cause. The camp is called Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World). It is a way to bring young female leaders from all over Benin to a camp with other girls to discuss good hygiene, female empowerment, sex education, and the importance of education. Lectures dealing with empowerment and education are given by successful Beninese women. If you are interested, go ahead and donate! Even $5 helps. Here is the process:
1. go to www.peacecorps.gov and click on "Donations"
2. at this point, you can search by the last name, "Hurst", OR click on "view all volunteer projects" on the right side of the page
3. you can then search under "Benin"
4. click on the Camp GLOW PCPP. You can then read a short description of the project, see how much of the total has been raised, and make a donation.

Remember, all donations are tax deductible!

FYI: Every kid I’ve met here named “Dieudonne” (God-given) is a total jerk, adults also apparently. What a weird irony. *The more you know*

I can't help but mention one last thing. I scored a copy of Wall-e the other day. Yesterday, when the sun went down and I couldn't grade papers anymore, my power has been out, I decided to watch it and kill the rest of my computer battery. I was sitting in my house watching this movie about a developed country that becomes too developed, and collapses under the weight of it's own consumption. I was watching this in my house in West Africa, where I work to facilitate development. I can't help but laugh at the irony of working towards development in a country that idolizes a country that contemplates it's own destruction from over-development. Food for thought from Benin.

Peace