The End of the Bénin Blogging

It’s my personal belief that you have to be somewhere for at least a year before you can claim to have lived there. Any time spent before that is just “staying” somewhere. So after having stayed in Bénin for only 2 months, I’m hesitant to write as an authority on the culture, the country, or even working with a Béninois NGO (non-governmental organization). All I can relay to you is my experience and what I learned from it, and I hope I’ve done that through the last few months of blogging.

I’ve been back in the U.S. for almost 2 weeks now, and in that time there have been many things that have made me happy. Seeing my friends is the first to come to mind, but fast and free internet is a close second. I can actually upload every web page in its entirety and look at my friends’ facebook pictures within seconds. I also like being allowed to wear shorts in public without offending anyone. I appreciate being able to speak fluently with those around me, especially my co-workers. I love coffee shops, indoor plumbing, and blackberries. I enjoy having a job where I actually feel like I’m accomplishing something. But most of all I love anonymity. I fit in everywhere, I can walk anywhere I want without children announcing my arrival, men harassing me, or people asking me for money.

But I miss populated streets, where my ten minute walk to work consisted of greeting at least 25 people, sometimes more. I miss how alive the streets are with mechanics, women selling food, neighbors sitting outside their gates watching the world pass by. In Bénin everyone is part of the community, but here in Arizona, while most people are incredibly friendly, there isn’t much interaction between strangers. Life is individualized.

I also miss the bright colors. Clothes are usually muted here (the majority of my wardrobe is unfortunately not an exception), but in Bénin the clothes were almost as beautiful and vivid as the tree-covered hills.

I miss the kids and their enormous, sincere smiles.

I miss the music. Everywhere. Pouring out of restaurants, bars, hair salons, and houses at excessive volumes. It’s almost always upbeat, especially at church. I was sitting in church last Sunday and couldn’t help but be distracted and disappointed by how slow and boring all the songs were here in America.

I daydream about the fresh tropical fruit- the mangoes, the pineapples, the bananas, the coconuts. I loved that there was food everywhere, and that it was always flavorful, natural, and homemade. It’s all so fresh and organic that it doesn’t last very long, prompting one of my roommates to make the insightful observation of, “It’s nice that when you’re hungry you just have to go outside to find food, but it’s annoying that when you’re hungry you have to go outside to find food.”

Those are a few of the things I loved while I was there, but what did I learn?

I learned about the realities of NGOs in Bénin, which may provide a fair representation of NGOs in Africa as a whole, but I’m not positive about that. A lot of people who manage NGOs are actually working full time jobs elsewhere and tend to their NGOs on the side. Projects and programs are created once funding is found, rather than looking for funding to support projects and programs that have already been put in place. I learned that with my personality, I wouldn’t feel fulfilled working in a local NGO if it were similar to the one I just worked in, since I was viewed by my NGO as more of a resource for getting money than anything else. I didn’t really learn any skills, since the staff I was working with barely had enough training and experience to run the NGO. But I gained invaluable experience, so I’m not too disappointed.

In fact, I left Bénin with very mixed feelings about NGOs, foreign funding, and the development field in general. NGOs like the one I was working with wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for foreign funding, so should they even exist at all? An entire system has been created that revolves around training Africans to adhere and submit to the whims and methods of European/America/Canadian donors. But at the same time, there are lots of foreign and local organizations who are doing a lot of good within that system. So for the majority, it’s an unnatural, one-way relationship, but not one than I can write off as being solely villainous. But now I’m not so sure I want to go into it as a career.

Also, it was reaffirmed for me that I will always be a foreigner in Africa, simply because my skin is white. Even if I become accepted as a local in the community or town I’m in, any time I travel outside of that group, the people I encounter will see me as an outsider. No matter how much I try to dress and speak like the people around me, my skin will always set me apart.

Despite several frustrations, I’m inexplicably glad that I spent the last two months in Bénin. I got two more stamps in my passport (Brussels & Bénin), as well as a realistic idea of what working in a Béninois NGO is like. I got acquainted with another region of Africa, improved my French, and acquired a better understanding of the development field.

Thanks for following my adventure and I hope you’ve been able to live vicariously through me at least a little over the last couple months. The blogging is now officially over, since I’m not going to attempt blogging about my life in Arizona. If I did, I would only publish posts sporadically and they might not even be interesting, because as a grad student, surviving an insane schedule and remembering to eat/sleep/maintain basic levels of hygiene take priority over having an interesting life. I would write things like, “I went to class, and then I went to work and sat at a computer, and then I went to the library and ploughed through some of my readings for class, and then I went to bed.” But in May I graduate, and am off to the next adventure. So, check back in a year, if you feel like it, and hopefully there will be interesting news up there.

-Jenn

p.s. I have full albums of my pictures from Bénin up on facebook. If you would like to see them, the link for the first one is:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.730608447928.2249484.27711297&l=659339dcd7&type=1

and the second is:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.738907616328.2253204.27711297&l=0958410b14&type=1

The Trip Back To America

When traveling, especially internationally, you should always give yourself a cushion of time if you can, and carry lots of cash. My original itinerary last week was: Leave Cotonou 8pm on July 12, layover in Brussels, layover in Newark, arrive in Atlanta 5pm on July 13, drive to Lillian, Alabama with friends on July 15 for our friend’s wedding on July 16, have a great time, fly to Phoenix July 17, and start back at work July 18. That sort of happened.

Last Tuesday, I left Cotonou and arrived in the Brussels airport the next morning, where I thought I would only be staying a few hours, but instead, thanks to a bird getting caught in the engine, I was given a 24 hour layover. At first I was irritated at the change of plans, but then the adventurer within rose up, and I mentally thanked that poor bird for sacrificing his/her life as I got another stamp in my passport and set off to explore the town. This was my first time in Belgium and I didn’t know anything about Brussels, so I spent the afternoon wandering around aimlessly, impressed by ancient architecture and eating waffles. It was lovely.

Exploring Brussels

The next day was frustrating because when I got to the Newark airport I had to get a new connecting flight to Atlanta. And I discovered that my suitcase had decided it wasn’t done hanging out in Brussels. And my credit card didn’t work, because I forgot to tell my bank I was leaving the country. And I was going on 6 hours of sleep in about three days. But around 2am on July 15^th, I finally showed up at my friend’s house in Atlanta, and after a few hours of sleep, we were on our way. Instead of trying to chase down my suitcase for the next few days, I had the airline send it to Phoenix, and I grabbed a few essential items at Target and enjoyed hanging out with my friends.

About to leave for Alabama

 

So, when you travel, you should always carry extra cash, because if you don’t, you might show up in America and have no way to buy toothpaste or contact solution. Or you could just call your bank before you leave, and let them know about your travel plans. It’s up to you. And you should always give yourself cushion time, because otherwise you might miss your friend’s wedding, because you never know when a bird might fly into the engine of the plane you’re supposed to go on. Thankfully I made it to my friend's wedding with plenty of time to spare, but I was on the verge of stressing out a few times along the way.

When I showed up in Phoenix on July 17, was my suitcase there, since the airline said it would be? No, of course not. Clearly, four days was not long enough to get it from Brussels to Phoenix. (Not that I’m still irritated to the point of being sarcastic or anything). But it showed up the next day, with all of its original contents, so everything ended up ok in the end.

So, here I am, back in Arizona. My suitcase is here, my credit card works again, I’m mostly recovered from jetlag, I’m back at work, I’m mostly settled into my new house, and I even managed to cook last night. It looks like life has strangely returned to normal, which is a hard adjustment after living in semi-survival mode for the last week. There are some things I already miss about Ouidah, like my fellow volunteers and the fresh fruit, but at the same time, I am very thankful to be working in an office again with indoor plumbing and I can't get over how fast the internet is.

I’m going to publish one more post in the next few days as a wrap up to my trip, but for now, the

Porto Novo

Like many countries, Bénin has an official capital, Porto Novo, where not very much happens, and then it has the real capital, Cotonou, where everything important, such as businesses, embassies, and the airport, are located.

My roommates and I visited Porto Novo on Saturday with the intention of seeing three things- the Da Silva Museum of Afro-Brazilian culture, the park with monkeys in it, and a mosque that our Lonely Planet guidebook claimed to be “the most colorful mosque in West Africa”. We also decided we were going to walk everywhere since our agenda wasn't packed and we wanted to see as much of the city as possible.

We left our house and walked a few blocks to the “international road”, which starts in Lagos, Nigeria, crosses through Bénin and Togo and terminates in Accra, Ghana. We started walking along this road and as we walked by a few people sitting on an unmarked bench they asked us, “Cotonou?” We nodded in agreement, and they greeted us and motioned for us to wait with them. A few minutes later a van pulled up, the three of us were herded into the back row, followed by another person, and the four of us shared three seats, as is custom. The rest of the van gradually filled up and we were on our way with 11 people in the 8 person van. Fifteen minutes outside of Ouidah, one passenger was dropped off, and there were two people waiting on the side of the road to take his place. Since the van was “full” the apprentice (the teenage boy who collects everyone's fares, runs errands for the driver, and is in training under the driver to one day become a driver himself) gave up his seat and took his new place in the back with the luggage. We made a few more stops like this along the way, and eventually got to the station in Cotonou where we took similar transportation to Porto Novo.

Our first destination was the Da Silva Museum, since we actually knew the name of it. We took a tour, took a few pictures, and then headed off to find lunch.

(Two of my roommates and me- left: Natalie, center: me, right- Makeda)

Down the street we found a place with tables and chairs, and a few women sitting next to some cooking pots. When we asked what there was to eat the response was, “There's rice, there's pâte (paste made from ground up corn and manioc), there's sauce with fish, and there's sauce with sheep”. Then lids were lifted revealing that the rice was actually gone (which they already were aware of, so I don't know why they told us there was rice in the first place, but I've decided to stop trying to solve that mystery), so we settled for pâte and sauce with fish. After lunch we asked the cooks for directions to the mosque with lots of colors, and got our first taste of the confusion that we would be dealing with the rest of the day. We got only blank looks, since there are many mosques in Porto Novo, and the idea of one of them being known for its display of color didn't register with anyone, but as we explained it more they finally understood what we were talking about (or at least gave the impression that they did), and their first response was that we should take zems (scooter taxis) because it's a long ways away. After we explained that we wanted to walk there so we could see the city, they finally gave us directions.

It wasn't long before we were lost, and had to ask for directions again. Same procedure. Blank looks at first, and after a lot more explaining on our part, we were told we should take zems, but after we explained we wanted to see the city, directions were willingly provided. We also asked about the park with the monkeys, and since that seemed closer, we headed over there first. We arrived just as it began raining, and as we took cover under their gazebo were informed that since the monkeys were free to roam wherever they wanted, they had sought protection from the rain somewhere out of site, and no one knew when they would be returning and visible. So when the rain let up, we left the park a little disappointed, but with new directions to the most colorful mosque in West Africa, after, of course, going through the direction-asking procedure we were getting really accustomed to by now.

10 minutes later we were lost again. We asked a man guarding a government building, and went through the same directions-asking procedure, and then went on our way. After getting distracted by a wedding, a shop selling fabric, and a few other fun sites, we ended up in the middle of a market, where we tried getting directions again. Same procedure. After we went through the directions-asking process with three more groups of people we finally gave up on our goal of walking, since we were running out of daylight and our legs were tired. We found a few zems, which is what everyone had been telling us to do all day long, and after going through the same directions-asking procedure, they gave the impression of knowing where they were going, and we were on our way.

But they didn't really know where they were going, and we showed up not at the most colorful mosque in West Africa, but at the headquarters for Islamic culture. Two of the men who were in charge of the headquarters were standing outside, and after asking them for directions to the mosque, we went through the same procedure, which surprised us a little considering that these men were involved with the Islamic culture of Porto Novo. They gave the zem drivers directions to the biggest mosque in Porto Novo, which they proudly described as having 4 minarets, and which we were hoping was the same as the most colorful mosque in West Africa.

It was not. While it was an impressive structure, and very nicely painted, it was in fact only two colors, and was clearly not a building that could be described as the most colorful mosque in West Africa. We decided that the Lonely Planet guidebook must have deemed the site far more significant than everyone in Porto Novo did.

(The biggest mosque in Porto Novo, which is not the most colorful mosque in West Africa)

 But it was starting to get dark by this point, so we finally gave up completely on our mosque quest and decided to get home. How does one get from Porto Novo back to Ouidah? You get back to the international road, which passes through Porto Novo, and wait on the side of it until a van going to Cotonou drives by. Once you get to Cotonou, you walk a quarter of a mile down a crowded street until you reach a place with a gas station and a bunch of vans, and try to find a van that's going to Ouidah.

I've also included a couple pictures from church, since I finally remember to bring my camera this week. After much insisting, I convinced the woman in charge of the seating to let me sit in the back, so my camera and I wouldn't be too distracting. Here's the view from the back row:

How Béninois Are You?

 

I've created a quiz that will allow you to assess your inner Béninois, and see how well you would fit in here:

1. You have just opened a hair salon, and are deciding on a name for your new establishment. After much deliberation, you decide on:

A. Good Clips

B. Hair Salon

C. (Insert your name)'s Hair Salon

D. The Joy and Peace of our Great and Loving God Hair Salon

2. You are a taxi driver, and make your living driving a car that was created to seat 5 people, including yourself, and you make continual trips all day long from Ouidah to Cotonou. On an average trip you transport:

A. Up to 4 passengers, but they must be in the car and prepared to leave on time. Time is money, so you will leave promptly when you planned, regardless of whether or not your car is full.

B. 4 passengers and yourself, making 5 in total, because that's how many the car was designed to hold.

C. Usually 4 passengers, but if a fifth one wants to come along, you can squeeze him/her into the middle section between yourself and the other passenger up front.

D. A minimum of 6 passengers, 4 squeezed into the back seat, and 2 up front with you, and you won't leave the station until your car is full. The extra $1.20 you get from each of the two extra people more than covers the $1.00 fee/bribe the gendarmes (highway police) might charge if you get stopped for having too many people in the car.

3. You just inherited a TV from your uncle, and would like to receive a few channels on it so you can keep up with some of your favorite soap operas and watch the latest music videos. You acquire these channels by:

A. Buying a cable that you plug into the cable access already built into your house.

B. just watching these shows online on your computer, since you have internet in your house. You save the TV for watching movies.

C. Buying a satellite dish.

D. Attaching a metal receiver and some wires to a very long bamboo shoot, which is connected to your house and your TV. Why pay for an overpriced satellite dish when this is cheaper and works almost as well?

A whole community of bamboo satellites.

4. You are an elderly woman and you run a fruit stand where a customer has just purchased a coconut, which she has asked you to open for her because she doesn't know how to do it herself. You:

A. Refuse, not wanting to violate any federal health codes, insisting that she should open it herself at her house.

B. Gently cut it open with a kitchen knife.

C. Grab a machete, and chop it open with a few swift and efficient strokes.

D. Cheerfully comply, and repeatedly slam the coconut on the sidewalk (which many people have used as their bathroom) until it finally cracks open. Then you take a knife and pry out the meat from the shell, and place it neatly into a plastic bag. Your method has just motivated the customer to become self-sufficient and start opening her coconuts at her house, in order to avoid having them opened on the sidewalk/public bathroom.

5. You need to type up a document and print it out. You perform this task by:

A. Turning on your personal computer and printer, and doing it all yourself.

B. Heading over to the local library where you can use the computer for free, and print it yourself afterward for a minimal fee.

C. Using a computer at the cybercafe, which may or may not work.

D. Going to the nearest “Saisie” where there will be a woman with at least a middle school education who can type up your document for you as you dictate it to her, and then print it out for you afterward. But since the electricity just went off city-wide, you'll have to wait for it to come back on before you bother going over there.

6. You are a Béninois child, and are playing on the side of the street when a yovo (white person) walks by. You react by:

A. Ignoring them, as you are very self-involved and don't care about what is happening around you.

B. Being uninterested, since there are white people everywhere, making this a common occurrence, and nothing to get excited about.

C. Smiling politely and waving as you great them with a “Bonjour”.

D. Interrupting what you were doing and frantically announcing this person's presence by shouting, “YOVO!!” at the top of your lungs and waving as hard as possible. This is the most exciting thing to happen to you today, and you don't want anyone within a half mile radius to miss this wonderful moment. Then you and all your friends who are with you start grinning and singing a song you and every other child in Bénin seem to have known since birth, “Yovo, yovo, bonsoir! Ca-va bien, merci!” (White person, white person, good afternoon! I am fine, thank you!)

For every question you answered as “A” or “B”, give yourself 0 points, for every “C” give yourself 1 point, for every “D” give yourself 2 points.

If you got a score of 0, you're adjustment to Bénin is going to be pretty rough.

If you got a score of 1-6, you'll have a good time, but you'll probably still get frustrated occasionally.

If you got a score of 7-11, you'll fit right in.

If you got a score of 12, you've reached “local” status, and if you're not already living in Bénin, you should be!

Dahomey

On Saturday, my parents and my roommates and I visited the city of Abomey, which formerly served as the capital of the Dahomey kingdom, whose power lasted almost 300 years- from the beginning of the 17^th century to the end of 19^th century. In fact, after gaining its independence from the French, Bénin was originally named Dahomey, but ultimately it was changed to Bénin for the sake of unifying a country whose citizens' did not all trace their lineage back to the Dahomey kingdom.

After enduring a three hour car ride, half of which was on very rugged dirt roads, the six of us and our driver gratefully pried ourselves out of our 5 person taxi that we had been “cozily” wedged into during the ride, and began our tour of the Historic Museum of Abomey. As we were led through a maze of courtyards and ancient buildings that had previously served as the kings' royal court, our guide explained the purposes of each one, as well as the significance of the artifacts stored inside some of the rooms. As it always is with historic sites, it was hard to imagine such a serene and vacant location had been teeming with life less than a hundred years ago. There were also some pretty cool artifacts, such as 11 of the 12 original thrones for the kings, the oldest one dating back to the early 17^th century.

Some of the interesting facts I learned about the Dahomey Kingdom:

There were corps of female soldiers in the king's army known as the Amazonians. They were so good at their job that they were often favored over male soldiers when going to war. One of their most infamous tactics: if they were in danger of losing a battle, they would seduce the soldiers of the enemy, sleep with them, and then kill them.

The Dahomey Kingdom was bloody, brutal, and very involved in the slave trade with the Europeans, causing them to be disliked by neighboring kingdoms. Most of their slaves were captives from wars with groups to the east, in the area now known as Nigera, and the Dahomey kings would frequently offer these captives to the Europeans in exchange for canons, guns, and bricks. The practice of human sacrifice was also favored, of which the prisoners of war were generally the unfortunate victims.

There were 14 kings of Dahomey in total, but two were banished after selling their own relatives into the Transatlantic slave trade, so only 12 are represented in the museum.

The founder of the Dahomey kingdom was originally from the kingdom of Ashanti, which was located in the region now known as Ghana.

Despite being defeated by the French, the tradition of having a Dahomey king has been upheld through the present. Our guide was a descendent of King Glèlè (who ruled from 1858-1889) which allows him the privilege of living in the current king's house, which is located somewhere in Abomey.

Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take pictures in the museum, but here are a few from the trip back to Ouidah, which was just as cozy and rugged as the trip to Abomey. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures capturing the dirt road on which we spent half the trip: