Post Pastimes

Alright, sorry I didn't post anything in the month of November. I got really busy with things.

Here's what I've been up to:

PCV Pest Control

Recently, I've noticed an offensive amount of termites in the kitchen of the workstation at night time. Last night, Veronica (my new postmate) and I decided to investigate. What did we find you ask? That termites had made a home behind an outlet, in the wall, in the kitchen.

Well that

couldn't stand. Bug spray in hand, we attacked the outlet...doused it really, in aerosol bug spray. Pretty sure that all I have to do is point at bugs and the residue bug spray on my index finger would kill anything in it's path.

What happened next is definitely somebody's worst nightmare. Termites began (quite literally) to pour out of the outlet. I realized that the bug spray must attack their nervous system because it looked like they were going crazy, convulsing and curling up into little termite-balls. A small part of me felt bad until I remembered that one time at post when a termite bit me. Yes, bit me.

Their death was very kamikaze-esque. They'd come out of outlet and dive into the sink, practically jump off of the outlet.

For those of you who know me, you won't be surprised that I decided to fumigate other parts of the kitchen now that I had the guts to face and kill insects. I was on a roll, why stop?

For some time, I had noticed that bugs were going in and out of drawers where we keep powered milk, sugar, flower (in containers of course) so Veronic and I decided to investigate. This part was actually gross because roaches are my weakness. We cleaned out a drawer and sprayed bug spray at nothing in particular--just to see what would happen. There were more bugs than we thought.

We decided to take the whole drawer outside, dump everything and stomp on whatever crawled away. Seemed like a good idea until the big roaches came out.

Can someone please tell me why a cockroach needs to be 2-3 inches long? I mean, that serves no biological purpose. Spiders eat insects, snakes eat insects and small animals, ants even eat insects; they all serve a purpose. What purpose does a 3 inch cockroach serve? Hm? The only plausible reason for the existence of a roach that size is for the sole purpose to be disgusting. I love nature, I really do, but like most other things I love in this world there are parts of it that seriously, seriously irritate me.

In any case, the guard heard us shrieking, yes I shrieked, and came over to help us kill the roaches.

We had ourselves a roach stomping fest.

No worries though. Just all part of the job. I'm going to be so brave when I get home. Those puney American cockroaches won't mean anything to me. Score!

To answer your questions (which I like by the way. More, more!!) : I am pretty much always that creative although I'm not sure it took creativity so much as the ability to use a ruler, pen and markers to color to create the monopoly board.

In regards to my weight, I'm a solid 70 kilos. That's where the scale goes everytime. I think this is roughly 154 lbs and I've seemed to level out here. Parasites, I assume they're gone. All the plumbing runs smoothly, wink wink.

And finally, yes I can use satellite internet here at the workstation. It was recently installed and it's amazing. All we need know is a hot water heater. Of course if we get that we go from Peace Corps to Posh Corps ;)

Monopoly in Benin

Robert and I were playing Monopoly virtually every day before I came to Benin. It's only natural that he should bring the pieces to play here. I made this board from cardboard and markers.

I haven't lost any of my skill. I'm still the champion of Monopoly ;)

The Adventures of Rob and Clay: The Case of the Heavily Flawed Mousetrap

12:30 a.m. the other night, I go into my kitchen to brush my teeth and what do I see: a mouse scurrying from one floor cabinet to the next. Recently, Robert and I saw it dart from under my bed into my "closet area" but couldn't find it--or kill it. Naturally, I was irritated and said outloud, "this ends tonight!"
I called for Robert...

I came immediately, closing the door to the bedroom behind me and barricaded the entryway to the kitchen with a marker board. I perched myself atop a stool to assess the situation as...

I began to remove almost everything from the cabinet in which the mouse was hiding, saying curses the whole time. After removing everything I proded the gas bottle in the cabinet, connected to my stove. The mouse shot from the cabinet to another gas bottle beside my sink. In the bottom of the gas tank are small holes that I decided to tape up to trap the mouse inside/underneath but I needed tape so...

I retrieved a roll of packing tape from my suitcase (why would I have packing tape in my suitcase? that is irrelevant to this story). Remembering the sticky mouse traps from home - in which the creature was cruelly stuck until it perished - I put a strip of tape along the outside of the doorway to the bedroom, and to the kitchen. Then...

I taped the holes in the bottom of the gas bottle. Of course, by this time, Robert and I forgot that we needed to watch the gas bottle the whole time so I wasn't sure the mouse was still there so Robert brought me a flashlight and upon inspection I saw two beady eyes.

Now we had it trapped but we didn't know how to kill it or get it outside or anything: we were stuck; trapped if you will, by our own machinations.

I was willing to free the mouse so I wanted to get it into a trash can. To do this I decided to turn the trash can on it's side and tape folders to it and the gas bottle, creating a little tunnel that would guide the mouse. Meanwhile...

I once again turned to my favorite intervention, the packing tape. I taped the folders to the trash can--and all over the floor in the kitchen--so they would not fall. However, after lengthy discussion - including much doubt - about how this would unfold, we changed plans completely.

Outloud, I pointed out that if we had a trash bag we could justslip the gas tank into it to guarantee that the mouse wouldn't get away. Robert said "I have a trash bag." (why would Robert have a trash bag? that is not relevant to this story.)
We slid the bag under and over the gas tank. "On the count of 3", I said, "you will lift the gas tank and I'll close the bag."
FAIL.
The gas tank was too heavy to lift quickly and there was a huge hole in the bag from sliding it under the gas tank. The mouse ran away. The tape at the doorways didn't phase it.

You might be forlorn, Reader, with how this tale ends. I'm sure from the start you assumed our complex enterprise would eventually prove to be a success. However, the moral of this story lies not in the outcome, but...

In my willingness to set the mouse free. The true moral of the story is: when a mouse is in your house and you catch it, you must kill it. I should've just lifted the gas bottle and crushed the mouse with it.

Jus d'orange

A month ago, I promised pictures and recipes for food volunteers make here.

Here at the Natitingou Workstation, we have a lemon tree, a banana tree, and an orange tree.

From the lemon tree volunteers can make: key "lime" pie, lemonade, lemon merangue pie, lemon bars, citrus french vanilla ice cream and marinades that require lemon juice. From the banana tree volunteers can make: banana bread, banana waffles/pancakes, banana beignes (ben-yays) and so on. And from the orange tree volunteers can make: orange juice, orange icing, and probably orange marmalade if they (I) knew how.

I'm sure for each fruit there's a ton more things that could be made.

The other day, I decided to make fresh squeezed orange juice which is, believe it or not, a true testament to my ingenuity. We have these trees here but they do not get used very often. They just smell good and prick you when you grab the branches (except the banana tree). Usually, we just stare at the trees and comment on how much fruit there is and how big it is. Baffling.

To make fresh squeezed orange juice, I simply remembered the Florida Orange Juice commercial. You know, "18 oranges squeezed into every box."

Lies, lies, lies.

I squeezed 18 huge, juicy oranges and got MAYBE 5 jarsfull (jars that were filled with jelly, that we use to drink from) of juice.

It took 2+ cups of water plus 1/2+ cups of sugar to make it taste like "orange juice."

Fresh squeezed orange juice is good but the oil from the peels gets pressed into the juice giving it a bite and, at least in Africa, it's unavoidable. However, I can claim that my orange juice is 100% organic AND nature friendly. Those two qualities are not mutually exclusive. The orange tree is fertilized with a compost pile, the sugar was from sugar cane, I didn't destroy other plants to plant orange trees and I'm not owned by Coca Cola :)

Recipe
18 oranges

2+ cups water

1/2+ cup sugar
Might I just say: season to taste.

Enjoy!

...The things you'll see...

I promised I'd post some photos.

Here they are.

I haven't forgotten about the Lemonade recipe--I'm waiting to remember to take pictures of myself making it :D

The scenery is what I see when I walk outside of the workstation.

The spider.....I discovered today. What kind of spider is that? Why does it look fake? Can we talk about the suspiciously thick, yellow strand of web and can the spider kill me?

Responses welcome, I have to live with this thing.

Milk, Milk. Lemonade. Here in Nati, fudge is made.

After deep reflection, I've decided my blog's gotta change; it's gotta grow, evolve, become something. It's gotta do something; be something meaningful.

My life as PCVL is great but slightly less adventurous. I mean, who really wants to hear about how I had to go to the water company to pay the workstation's water bill 3 days in a row because the first day the cashier was sleeping on the floor and didn't want to get up to deal with me and the second day was the day before a holiday and the water company wanted to close at 10:30 because here in Benin every working day before a holiday is a half-day (it was somehow irrelevant that I was there at 10 o' clock, by the way). Who cares if I have to deal with questions like: should I increase our laundry lady's-- who only comes when she's asked, by the way--salary by 1 mille fcfa ($2) more a month even though volunteers have to pay her to do their laundry, and she's always sick?

Who cares, right? Heck aside from utterly absurd and therefore absolutely hilarious the daily, mundane experiences of my life can be--those things are irrelevant...except the tons of seeds I planted, that is not irrelevant and when the sprouts all push, I will photo document as with my garden at my old post.

So I've decided: aside from posting pictures of the garden, and maybe speaking about some of these hilarious experiences, I'll post recipes with pictures!!

As PCVL, I bake a lot. Why, my first day here I spent all day making chocolate chip cookies. When I say all day, I mean 6 solid hours. Yeah, all day. On a daily basis, I make key lime pie, ice cream--which is fun because I can experiment with flavors here and volunteers who haven't eaten anything that awesome in a year aren't concerened with flavor, and I'm adding cinnamon buns to the stock.

Here in Benin, we call these goodies Chez Chose La and there's a price to pay if you want to enjoy them. Not some moral price, aside from gorging yourself with their awesomeness and then feeling fat and sad, but a real monetary price. We use these funds to buy cool things like Hookah and the tabacco for it and ultimately ingredients to continue Chez Chose La.

Here at the workstation, we have an orange tree, and avacado tree (not yet producing), a lemon tree, and a mango tree. So, we always get at least one of the ingredients from right outside the door.

Frequently from friends and family at home, I hear "I wish I could experience what you're going through." or "Gosh, this experience is just so amazing, I can't begin to comprehend." And, food is so, so important. I can tell you, regardless of that disclaimer, that every Peace Corps Volunter in the world, worships good food. To give you an idea, no volunteer in Benin ever buys just one pack of 4 cookies or one slice of key lime pie when they come to the Natitingou Workstation. It's impossible. It's practically a religious experience when we bite into these non-starchy, non-bland, non-msg loaded, packed full of sweet deliciousness goodies. Food is here, like religion, both the bane of human existence but also the way to heavenly sweet salvation.

And so, I felt compelled to share this experience with you. I'll post the recipes with pictures and you can choose to indulge or not to indulge.

Mainly this is for fun :)

Tomorrow's recipe: Lemonade :)

An Attempt to Explain Away my Lack of Blogging

It's been a while since I blogged huh?

The past 4 weeks and some-odd days have been super busy for me. I came down to the south to work Stage (read: train the new volunteers, a.k.a. stagiers) in Porto Novo the capital city of Benin, August 5th.

I've been stuck in southern limbo ever since.

I worked two solid weeks of Stage then came back to Cotonou (40 minutes southwest of Porto Novo by taxi) and had my mid-service medical examination. Despite my 26 pound weight loss and a parasite living in my intestines, I'm in perfect health. My kidneys, liver, and blood are all normal.

Yeah, despite a parasite, I'm in perfect health. I'm not sure of the name of the parasite. The doctor old me in English but his French accent is thick. I'm pretty sure it had the word....blasphoma or something similar to it in the name....The name reminded me of a really complex form of cancer. But, when I asked if I needed to take something for it, the doctor said it wasn't serious and I'd be fine.

I assume my body will do it's thing.

I didn't think to ask if this could be the reason why I've lost so much weight.

Speaking of weight, I've gained 4 lbs :)

After mid-service, I went back to Porto Novo to work one last week (not the last week) of Stage. The TEFL stagiers are doing great. They're a good, level-headed (seemingly :)) group.

And now we're at today, September 5th.

Interesting facts:

I have been in Benin for just over 13 months, and am half way done with my service

In 23 days, I will have been a PCV for 1 year.

ROBERT WILL BE HERE SOON!

Okay, I'm pretty sure that's everything from then until now. Until next time.

I'll post some photos of things soon.

Beninese cheer.

Beninese cheer, at the camp. The boys taught us this.

There is espoir after all...

This past week, I participated in Camp Espoir; a camp for young boys aged roughly 12-15.

I was counselor/helper to the Red Team aka Les Tigres, les champions du camp! aka The Tigers, camp champions!

The boys participated in workshops designed to exopse them to topics that they would, excuse my certainty, otherwise never have the chance to discuss. We covered all topics including: gender roles, male/female health and sexuality and new types of courage. The over all theme of the camp was gender equality so all workshops included some kind of sketch or role play and discussion about the female experience.

I was so touched at how these boys who had rarely spent time reflecting on these issues, were so willing to explore them. During role plays with female parts they dressed up as females, and during discussions which often turned into debates they answered honestly and thought, well, thoughtfully.

The end of the camp was sad and almost drew tears when we read what some the boys had written on their feedback sheets.

"I want to thank the volunteers of Camp Espoir because I never knew that girls worried about so many things and now I know."

"I see now that girls can do all the things that boys can do and are equal to boys."

This coming from boys who are taught that it is okay to degrade women; that women are in no way equal to them; that women are, in a nutshell, here to serve food and produce children.

Awesome.

Around these parts.

3 of my students.

Can you see the arc en ciel (arc in sky, rainbow)?

What insect is that? It flies like a hummingbird and even looks like a mini hummingbird but is definitely an insect.

My Secret Garden: Raw

So, I recently begin shooting in RAW.
Merc (slang for Merci=thanks), MW.

More editing power. These pictures are the same old thing as before. Flowers and Insects around my garden.

I tried messing around with shutter to get a good shot of bees in action, pollinating a sunflower but I was only mildly successful.

The process is: focus, 1, 2, 3, hold your breath, focus again, wait for a good shot, snap, gasp for air with the sun at only 9 degrees beating down on your back.

Those bees as you can see are pretty tiny. They're smaller than flies and they buzz about that sunflower for roughly 9 hours a day.

Morbid nursery rhyme time.

There once lived 3 little pigs.
The 1st little pig snuck into Clay's yard (because I left the gate cracked--cracked!!) and decided to feast on Clay's plants.

Said the extremely irritated and fed up with wild animals Clay, "Little pig, Little pig don't come in!"

"I will if I want to because I roam around with no one to watch over me all day and my owners don't care if I destroy anyone's property. Besides I have hair on my chinny chin chin!" Replied the 1st little pig.

So, Clay took extra care to make sure his straw gate was always closed because, in the end, it was his fault that the 1st little pig snuck into his yard.

But the 2nd little pig, he was much more determined than his brother. He tried the gate.

"Little pig, little pig don't come in." Clay taunted from his bedroom, proud of himself for locking his gate.

But just then, Clay noticed that the 2nd little pig was still trying to get into his yard. He went to investigate.

To his absolute blindingly rageful extremely irritated and, now literally, fed up with wild animals horror, Clay saw the 2nd little pig trying to knock down his fence to get to his plants.

"I'll grunt, and I'll squeal, and I'll push your straw fence down!" Oinked the pig.

"Not if I have anything to do with it or by the hair on your chinny chin chin." Muttered Clay.

Clay walked over to the fence, made a noise to scare the pig but to his shock, the pig continued. This time, Clay picked up a stick and beat the fence, still the pig grunted and squealed and tried to push his fence down.

So, Clay did the only thing he could think of: paused to apologize to the universe, told himself he wasn't a bad person, and gave the pig a swift kick in the head through the fence.

That did the trick, the pig went squealing away.

Little did Clay know, and this is in large part due to the fact that he doesn't under stand Pig Latin, the pig was actually saying "I'll get my revenge. I swear by the hair on my chinny chin chin!"

The next day, literally THE NEXT DAY, Clay left his house, he securely locked his gate and looked back at his garden. He went about his village doing Peace Corps Volunteer things, and yes this included going to the market. When he arrived at his house he was happy to see that the gate was still securely locked, the fence seemed to suffer no damage. With a smile he opened the gate and what he saw next threw him into a great rage, so quickly in fact that he now, after some reflection, thinks he might be an emotionally unstable person.

There, across from him, on the other side of his garden, was nothing.

NOTHING! Nothing but the ragged bits of a plant his students had lovingly given to him, 2 fully grown and FINALLY BLOOMING cosmo plants that looked as if someone had gone over them with a lawn mower and a pushed-in fence. In the distance, he noticed, the 3rd little pig running away, squealing delightfully.

Instead of doing anything rash he said a few cursewords, wished the pig an awful death, and decided to reinforce this specific area of the fence with sticks. After staring at the fence, Clay realized that sticks wouldn't be strong enough. So, he decided to reinforce the fence with, you know what already, brick. Clay patiently staked the cosmos, praying to the flower growing gods to work their magic, and threw stones at any pig that came near his garden for the rest of the day.

And he is currenly living nervously ever after, waiting to see if the brick is in fact too strong for the 3 little pigs to knock down.

The End.

Notice my "care packages" section.

AND, my body thanks everyone for sending me delicious processed, American, goodies. [no sarcasm] My sanity thanks you for the seeds:D Also, my soul thanks you for your love<3

Around My House....

...is a misleading title because I bet you were thinking I'd be showing you the inside of my house! But, you should pay attention to the preposition of place that I used: around not inside. ;)

I decided to snap a few extra shots of what I could see from my porch. In that moment, the things I could see were: goats grazing, and really big beautiful puffy clouds. Also, there was an arc en ciel (rainbow, literally: arc in sky) but I couldn't get it to show on my camera.
Also, I can see shooting stars every night....those of you who want to see should take this however you want it to...just remember that if I had a tripod I could do night photography :):):):)

My Secret Garden: Flower Power

I'm gonna toot my own horn and say. Yes, these were taken by me, on manual setting and focus :)

My Secret Garden: The Blooming of Sunflowers

Woo!!!

This photo set is actually incomplete. The sunflowers are pollinated and seeds are already starting to form in the center. It's really neat and exciting to see! I will Take a picture and post soon.
Also, that last picture is fuzzy in the center (boo) so I will replace it.

My Secret Garden

So

these next few blogs are just for pictures' sake but I have a story.

You saw from the video I have cosmos (which may be zinnias, MW and I are in the process of figuring this out) in my yard.

I was riding my bike one day and happened to glance over and there they were, growing wild. The flowers that you see are from the seeds of the wild ones I found. I just scattered the seeds around in front of my house and waited. Neatly enough, the wind took a few of the seeds, and by a few I mean more than 50 but less than 100, and dropped them right out front of my gate. It was very pretty. I walked out of my gate every morning and there waiting for me was a tiny field of budding flowers.
Here in Benin, there's something called sacle-ing. I probably spelled that wrong. Basically, in villages, the school has kids go around with hoes and destroy the Earth; personally I find it offensive because what's left is barren ground and sometimes the kids hoe up trees. It's worse than when locusts pass through.

The school, for my safety, told the students to sacle around my house and yes, they DESTROYED all of the flowers. Apparently, if there's too much green stuff growing in one area all sorts of evil serpents and reptiles hide there waiting to STRIKE!

f-ing annoying.

I now walk outside and feel like there was a tiny war right in front of my gate. I call the area death valley. I don't have pictures of it.
But, here are some pictures from my garden--which in every way, is holy ground. Noone is allowed to come inside the gate and the flowers are somewhat of a wonder to the kids of my village because they're not use to cultivated beauty in that way :)

Usually, things are planted are for practicality; squash, corn, etc.

Enjoy.

3 Dead Mice and other morbid interpretations of Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes

I haven't had to deal with mice in a while. The other week, I heard one rummaging around and decided to "get it."
I chased it from my kitchen to my storage room and hunted. In my storage room, I have a spare screen door. The mouse started to climb the screen door and I whacked it square on the head. It fell to the ground convulsing. I felt bad only for a second but then came to my senses and said a little prayer for the mouse:
"I'm sorry I killed you but I guess you shouldn't have been in my house."
I decided to clean the whole room.
A few months back, I had chased another mouse into my storage room and thought it went behind my lock-box. Out of frustration I kicked the lock-box against the wall. As I was cleaning my room, I pulled out the lock-box and found the mouse I chased behind it a few months before, squashed flat against the wall. It looked like a cartoon character when they fall on the ground off of a ciff--splat!
Totally hilar.
Then, I pulled the lock-box further out and...there was...ANOTHER MOUSE! Squashed flat underneath the lock-box.
3 dead mice, 3 dead mice, smell how they smell.

I wrote a while back that I would kill all the chickens in my village if they ate the plants in my garden, again.
Yesterday, I came home from visiting a friend and sure enough there was a hen eating my morning glories. I got my broom and swatted the hen--really really hard. It sqwuaked. I noticed that I had broken it's right leg as it hopped away. I felt so guilty. I mean, I wanted to hurt the chicken because it was destroying months of hard work, but I immediately regretted and felt immoral.
I went to find the owner of the chicken who was a Puhl man. The Puhl are a very quiet people. They're nomads so they don't settle down in one place. In my village there's a little camp of them. As I approached the man to talk about his chicken, he was dressed in all white from head to toe...praying. I literally felt like I was confessing to god-incarnate, my sins.
He was incredibly understanding and reminded me that I've given up a lot to come to Africa to teach children who are different from me and that he is extremely grateful for that. He told me not to have fear about the chicken because her leg would heal itself and suggested that I could make it up to him by teaching him English.
I was touched.
Hope you enjoy the garden video. The sunflowers are so beautiful!

Give and take.

Here are just a few ways I know I've adjusted to life in Africa. These aren't arranged in any order of importance.

1. I get a cold when the temperature drops below 75.
2. 75 degree weather is an excuse to sleep in a hoodie and pajama pants.
3. Babies screaming bloody murder doesn't phase me.
4. 30 year old body stench don't phase me.
5. I've lost 35 lbs in 8 months and look emaciated but I'm considered healthy.
6. Finally, holding hands with another male doesn't feel like cheating. Love you boo :)
7. Eating nothing but starch in 1 day doesn't make me feel unhealthy.
8. Riding in a car with no door handles, rearview mirror, or locks doesn't cause anxiety.
9. It isn't abnormal to delay class an hour to wait for rain to stop.
10. I was literally shocked when I found worms in my garden.

Garden Tour :)

a few comments:
:31, except the one I'm showing you. you can get a glimpse of the white one a few seconds before.

Sunshine and rain, get 'em up get 'em up now!

When you last read your Peace Corps Volunteer's blog, he was fighting the evil chickens of Toucountouna.
*!BAM!*

*((POW))*
The evil chickens of Toucountouna mercilessly attacked and killed the helpless sprouts of the Peace Corps Volunteer's garden.

chickens: cock-a-doodle-ha-ha-ha-ha. we will eat you pathetic sprouts!

sprouts: nooooooo, help us Clay, help us. ggghhhuuuhgggggg.

So, I was pretty sad because Africa provides the perfect conditions in which to grow both cosmos and sunflowers. They can survive drought, need full sun all day and can thrive in poor soil. WOO WEST AFRICA!
I replanted to sunflower seeds and reminded the next-door neighbor boy to make sure the door to my gate is closed well. I had to leave post for 2 weeks for PCVL interviews--by the way, I got the position--and to design the stage for the new volunteers who will be here IN JUST 2 MONTHS!
I got back to post last, last Wednesday and......guess what!
All of my cosmo seeds sprouted. In 2 weeks, they grew so much and 4 of the sunflower sprouts survived and are already a foot tall! We got a pretty heavy rain last Tuesday night and I'm pretty sure all of my flowers grew inches overnight. I collected some white stones and outlined the areas where I planted flowers so my front yard has some semblance of beauty before bloom.
I replanted, again, 8 more sunflower seeds and am anxiously awaiting their arrival.
The gate stays firmly shut but I've noticed chickens don't come around as much anymore. I hope it's because they fear me.
A point of personal pride: Last Thursday, I invited the kids who live next to me (5 of them with no parents, the oldest about 15) into my yard to wonder at my garden. They were truly awed. I gave them a few sunflower seeds, helped them plant them, and taught them how to water them daily. They stand over their own little garden for hours everyday, inspecting the ground. It is perhaps the most heart-warming thing I have experienced here in Africa.

You may remember a photo of cattle walking by my house, I posted it a few months ago. Well they're back and with them comes a fresh supply of purely organic, all natural cow manure that I can spread around my flowers. I have my next-door neighbor boy collect it--he puts it in a carton for me with his bare hands :)

I haven't had my camera at post because it was the dry season and it worried me to have it sitting around at post. Soo, I don't have pictures. I promise I will get pictures of my flowers soon!

Free-Range Food isn't Always a Plus

A while ago, I got a fence made of dried grass put around the front area of my house. It's really nice for privacy and (shh) sleeping outside during this time of year, the hottest time of the year, when the electricity is cut.

I had Robert, and his mother--thanks Phyllis!--send sunflower seeds, cosmo seeds, morning glory seeds, and scarlet runner bean seeds so that I can start a garden. My plan is to use the morning glory to cover my fence, plant the cosmos in front of my porch and along side of my house, and to have the far end of my front area covered in sunflowers!

I recently planted the sunflower seeds and taught a boy who lives next door how to water them for the times when I'm away from post.

I was away from post for a week and when I came back I was excited to see that one of the sunflower seeds had sprouted!! I asked the boy what happened to the rest of the seeds and he explained that the chickens that roam around my house got into my yard and ate the sapplings!

UUGGHH I HATE CHICKENS!

This is not the first time they've done this. I had wild cosmos growing in my yard and they'd sneak in during the dead of night and eat the newly budding flowers.

My sister witnessed the extent to which I despise chickens. I literally go insane. I pick up a broom and run at the chickens, swinging madly, screaming obsenities. My goal is usually to whack one full force in mid-air. One time I was almost successful but I missed the chicken by just a few centimeters.

So, I replanted the sunflower seeds. Thankfully, I only planted half just in case they didn't sprout. The soil is very poor. This time, I told the neighbor boy to guard my yard against chickens. If they destroy these sapplings I will literally kill every chicken in my village and have a big chicken feast. Fried chicken, chicken stew, chicken pot pie, chicken tenders, baked chicken, the list goes on and on.

Little do the chickens know that I may be getting a puppy soon. If I do, I will train him to chase and kill chickens :) Problem solved.

I will post pictures of sapplings if they survive. Pray for my sapplings...and for the lives of those chickens.

Duck Gracefully or, Just Risk it and Take a Taxi to Cotonou.

This...

Plus this...

(notice the slight discoloration on the corner.

You can tell how far it went into my head.)

Equals this!!

This week has been busy for me :)

I got back from Cotonou on Monday after seeing my sister off.

DIARRHEA!!

Literally, I've been a chocolate milk factory since

Monday. Gross I know, but part of my life here. Up until this point, I had managed to not get any stomach whatevers and now I have one and it's here in full effect!

By the way, to take the African gamble means to think you have to toot but surprise...

Today though, proved to be the icing on this week's cake. First let me describe the workstation. It's a normal house-ish structure. There's a side part with two outside bathrooms, real bathrooms with toilets for when you have to do something particularly smelly and/or noisy. This is an ingenious setup because the people in the workstation don't have to be burdened with your intestinal problems. A cement wall outlines the workstation property, running against the farther of the two bathrooms. Out of this wall, maybe 5 feet from the door of the bathroom, juts a metal pole to which a laundry rope is tied. The pole is one of those 'L' shaped poles and is positioned on the wall so that the L is upside down...kind of like 'r'.

I was coming out of the bathroom against the wall, was bombarded by some flying creature and ducked to keep it from flying into me. When I came up from ducking, I came up full force into the bottom part of the 'r'. I saw white and was stunned but just assumed I hurt myself.

I walked into the workstation, and wiped what I thought was sweat from my forhead.

No.

Blood, and lots of it.

After talking to the Peace Corps doctor, it was decided I would need to go the hospital here in Natitingou. I did. First, I went to the wrong hospital and walked around dazed and confused. Finally, I figured out I was at the wrong hospital and found my way to the right one.

The doctor there examined me and said "you need stitches."

We went over to another room, the nurse came in, shaved some of my hair off (very sad), cleaned the wound and next thing I know, there's the needle and thread. NO ANESTHESIA!

I laughed hysterically and told them to wait while I built up the guts to get stitches in my head with no anesthesia.

Deep breath.

Okay, go ahead.

BAM!

I'm pretty sure that the only reason I didn't cry was because I was sweating from the pain of it all. I'm also pretty sure that I almost pushed one of my eyes right out of it's socket in my attempt to apply pressure to deal with the pain.

I began to curse, aloud, in English and they all began to laugh. They knew.

They did a good job. A good, painful job.

They put about 20 different cleaning agents and topped it off with what I'm sure was alcohol and a bandage.

Enjoy the pictures.

Laundry!

I discovered I can load video. Here it is. Enjoy.

I Took the African Gamble....

and lost. On to other things...

My sister visited me for 2 weeks.

When she first visited I was finishing up in the med unit so we didn't do much. We spent a few days at the workstation (where I got sick from eating a bad salad) and then at my post. Post was boring for her but awesome for me to have her there. We didn't do too much, as there isn't that much to do in village but Chanda got to experience a small sampling of my daily life. This included sitting around in the heat, and doing her own laundry (pictures to follow)!

That weekend, we headed down to GAD weekend. GAD weekend is comprised of a night of date auctioning and a formal dinner and dancing to support small projects for Gender And Development. We had a beautiful dress made for Chanda from traditional tissu! Everyone loved it, but she thought it made her look like a big kid.

The first night, the date auction, was hilarious. Chanda got drunk and bid (and won) on almost every date. Of course the volunteers who work for GAD love her (and I love her because she I get to enjoy all the lovely dates she bought for me). I'll be getting a tea party, a sleep over, a foot massage, and a full course chinese dinner complete with night looking at the stars from a watch tower. WOO!!

The second night was fun too, mostly consisted of being thrown in a swimming pool, fun dancing, and more bidding and winning of art and jewelry.

We headed back to post and just chilled for the rest of the week. Chanda, who was going crazy, helped me fixed my fence and plant sunflower seeds to start my garden! Because I knew I'd be away from post a lot in the next few weeks, I taught the neighbor boy how to water them daily. I'm so excited to see sunflower saplings (pictures to come)!

We ended with a day at the beach complete with nude men. It was a fun time and I miss her!

I'm so ready for Rob to be here now that I've had practice with my sister, I'll feel like a professional Peace Corps Volunteer host.

Also, I found out that (even though her work is more dangerous) she's spoiled!!!!!!

Occurrences or, around these parts

Suddenly, I became a Peace Corps Volunteer and time began to slip away from me. Sorry I haven't written anything in a while.

I'm not feeling very creative so this blog entry is going to be dry.

The music, unfortunately did not get better. Some one died at the very end of January, so I had to put up with music for a another week. At some point, according to PC doctors, I developed insomnia which is why I'm writing this post at 3 in the a.m. This morning, marked 48 hours of no sleep. Woo! I have been in the medical unit for 2 weeks now as the Peace Corps doctors figure out what the best course of action is.

My sister will be here is 2 weeks which is exciting!

A T.E.F.L. Volunteer is leaving which makes me sad but I've been with her the entire 2 weeks I've been here, and she's going to Namibia and, it seems, will be living in much better conditions than in Benin.

I have applied for a position as Peace Corps Volunteer Leader. Essentially, I would run a workstation here in Benin and act as a mentor, guide, and confidant to Peace Corps Volunteers within a certain region. As far as I know, 5 other people applied and there are 4 positions available. The process is very interesting because Peace Corps Administration will send out an email listing all applicants and volunteers are asked to provide feedback. I think this is super excellent because, to be honest, the administration does not have daily contact with most volunteers. There is also a panel-interview made up of the current Peace Corps Volunteer Leaders and a few administration members. Of course, I'll update when I find out more :)

There are widespread teacher strikes occuring in Benin. Most schools are not functioning because teachers are fed up with not getting paid or getting paid half their salary. I heard a volunteer say that school may get extended, which would suck because the next stage will arrive here in Benin in the middle of July, much earlier than my stage did. If school is pushed back, stage will undoubtedly be effected.

The Chaleur, the hot season, is hot, hot, hot.

I took that picture near some waterfalls after the safari. It was a very bright day.

Those are the major updates of the past month. I'm sorry this blog lacks wit, sarcasm, and is boring.

LIfe in Benin...

is schizophrenic. One day--heck, one minute, I'm in love with the country. Mangos grow on trees lining streets, the people have an exotic look, and I can see the milky way in the sky a few nights a month. The other morning I saw a shooting star. Lovely

But oh how Benin has another side, I side that--and I hope this doesn't express cultural intolerance on my part--drives me absolutely insane....literally.

Death in Benin is celebrated. If I were to beam you over here, and take you to a death fete (celebration), you'd think people were partying hard, getting drunk, and being plain ol' obnoxious and well, you'd be justified. When someone dies, the Beninese party hardy. When someone important dies, say a very old member of the community, the Beninese party hardy--FOR 30 DAYS!

Why is this relevant to me? Why should I care? Why am I so over the Beninese funeral tradition you ask?

Answer: Someone died in a concession (little community of people within a village) right across a small field from me.

Picture this: Beautiful full moon, half moon, lunar eclipse. A Milky Way so visible you're pretty sure that God took a huge paint brush dipped with Milky Way No. 32 and flicked it across the sky. Stars that actually twinkle. Cool breeze at night. Crickets chirping. And then, at 12 o'clock at night you hear the music. It's so god awful loud it sounds like your playing it in your bedroom. You try to ignore it which is impossible. Your ipod doesn't help because you'd have to turn the volume the whole way up just to sort-of block out the music.

You're probably laughing or smirking or something but I ask you to imagine this music from across a field, played so loud you can hear every word clearly, played from 12 a.m. to 7 a.m. EVERY NIGHT FOR 1 MONTH.

One night last week, the absurdity of it all got into my head. I got up at 1 o'clock, went to a bar and drank a beer hoping that it'd make me loopy enough to pass out. You can imagine my anger when I was slightly drunk, laying in bed, not falling asleep. I wanted to come home.

It may seem silly that something like that could push me to the point of wanting to come home but it was 30 days, 7 hours a night of Beninese music and people hooting and hollering. Wednesday of last night, I asked God if he hated me--and I wasn't kidding. I thought the universe must be putting me through some test of growth. You know, a "suffer this one last thing because you will have a revelation and be stronger because of it" sort of thing. I'm pretty sure I didn't do any growing but I did have a revelation; there are some things that will always annoy me no matter much traveling I do.

If you found me at the ends of the Earth, where people find themselves and save themselves and lose themselves, I'd be bitching about loud things that disturb me while I'm sleeping. :)