You Don't Like My Head?

I'm not fluent in French, but I'm definitely functional. I can never remember where to place my reflexive pronouns when I'm conjugating a verb in the past tense, and I can never keep straight the genders of most nouns, but I can still converse with the people around me just fine. But a lot of people like to throw in slang phrases directly translated from the local language, Fon, which make little sense outside of the Fon context. I've tried having people explain to me what they're asking whenever I hear a new phrase, but I've stopped doing this since they usually just repeat exactly what they just said, assuming I'll start to understand them if they repeat it enough. And if I do this with kids they increase their volume with each response. So as entertaining as it is to have a kid shouting a confusing phrase over and over as loudly as possible at me, my new tactic is to provide a noncommittal response, and ask someone later who I know will be able to give me an explanation.

Some of the phrases I've learned are:
“Tu as fait un peu?” (Have you done a little?)- This is a greeting, and a way of asking someone if they've worked today.
The first person to ask me this was a stranger I passed while walking home, and I couldn't figure out what he was asking I had done a little of or why he cared. My next dilemma was knowing how to respond. Does someone actually want to know if I've worked today? Will they think I'm a liar if I say yes, and they later find out that I've done nothing today, not even a little? Apparently, there's an expected response, like answering “fine” when someone in America asks how you're doing, and I've learned how to both ask and answer this question in Fon.

“Tu es en train?” (Are you in the process?)- My boss always asks me this when she walks into the office and I'm working at my computer. At first I expected her to finish this question by indicating what specific process she was referring to that I would be doing, but since then I've figured out she's just casually asking me how work is going, and answering with a simple “yes” satisfies her.

C'est gratuit. (It's free.)- The first person to tell me this was a staff member at the orphanage as he handed me a plate of papaya intended for me to eat. I told him thank you, and he responded, “C'est gratuit,” which led me to wonder if I should normally be expecting to pay for food offered to me there. I've since learned that that's just a way of saying, “No problem/Don't worry about it.”

I also get asked questions that catch me off guard, but not because they originate from Fon. The most recent question I've been asked that I didn't understand, I will hopefully never be asked again, because I still have no clue how to answer it.
My neighbor three doors down from me, Geraldo, was nicely offering his services as a tour guide for my parents during their stay in Ouidah, and I was politely declining said services, when suddenly he asked me, “Ma tête ne te plait pas?” I looked at him, not knowing what to say, so he asked me again, this time in English, staring at me forlornly, “You don't like my head?”

What did that mean?! I could see nothing obviously wrong with his head, and I tried to provide a satisfactorily vague response that wouldn't get me into trouble as I mentally analyzed the situation.
There's so much involved with a head! Was he asking me if I questioned his intelligence and didn't think he was smart enough to be a tour guide for my parents? Was he asking if I thought he was crazy? Was he asking me if I thought he was ugly?

A few nights earlier his sister had invited me over to their house, where I discovered that her actual intention was not to hang out with me, but to set me up on a date with Geraldo, so I endured an exclusive dinner and conversation with him in the living room for what felt like an eternity, as the film Hotel Rwanda played in the background and the rest of the family, of which there were about 10 of them, barely said a word to me. Awkward. Very, very awkward.
That being said, I didn't know what or how much was being implied in that question, and therefore I didn't know how to respond, because if I offended him, I would still have to deal with him each time I saw him, which is fairly often since he's my neighbor. But if I assured him that I thought his head was fine, he might have taken it the wrong way, and the awkward date might have a sequel.
I couldn't think of a good answer, so I used the ever-successful, and slightly cowardly, tactic of changing the subject, and told him that since my parents had lived in Africa for a while, they would be fine, and didn't need a guide. Thankfully he didn't press any harder for my opinion of his head.

The language difference can also be seen in the music, which comes from all over West Africa and is rarely in French or English, so my roommates and I can't understand it, but that doesn't keep us from enjoying it. There's music playing all the time, flooding out in excessive volumes from either houses, restaurants, or hand-held radios, giving the city a festive and care-free feel, which I love. Here's the “music video” (there's no actual music video for this song, so it's just a slideshow of pictures of the singer trying to look cool.) of my new favorite song, which comes from Côte d'Ivoire. It's a call for peace in response to the violence that has accompanied the recent Ivoirian elections. Fortunately for me, it's also the favorite song of most people in Benin, so I get to hear it anywhere from two to twenty times a day. The song starts slow and dramatic, and if you're with friends, it's customary to wave your hands back and forth in sync together, and when it speeds up about a minute later everyone starts dancing. Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIWmkJM9ukU&feature=related

(If the link doesn't work, go to google and type in "Rien Que La Nation" and the video should show up. The artist is Debordeaux Leekunfa.)