Qu'est-ce que ce passe?

This blog is just an update of events in the past 2 weeks since I haven't written anything.
Honestly, there hasn't been beaucoup des choses going on.
In Africa, people wear a fabric called tissue. It's essentially a tightly-woven cotton fabric of toutes les qualitiés. Some is horrid, some beautiful. It all comes with some kind of pattern or motif. The tissue is taken to a teilleur who can make just about any article of clothing you can draw. What's really great is that Western ideas of what it is to dress like a man haven't influenced Beninese culture.
No joking, men wear tissue that is bright pink with purple lace and red hearts.
All this to say: most of the tissue is not of my taste. However, last weekend je suis allé au marche avec Jamie, Erin and David and I found 3 patterns that are pretty decent. I took them to the teilleur along with my Express, vintage-fit dress shirt, and am having 3 shirts made. Pictures to follow.
Also, Erin and I are positive that we'll get to enjoy Ginger Snaps sometime in the future ;)
My Malaria medication gives me acid reflux to the max and the doctor suggested I take other medication to allow my Malaria medication to work better. I said no. I will be changing Malaria medication in the near future.
There's beaucoup des photos but Erin and I are figuring out the logistics of transfer.
Soul food was made at the last cooking session. I.....was very happy ;)
I've had some grumpy days--Rob, Erin knows your pain :)
Now that the Teaching English as a Foreign Language stagiers are in Model School we have to be at school by 7:30 and stay until about 17:30. Teaching is great! I'm still stubborn and stay up until atleast 22:30
And perhaps the most important thing, in the last 2 weeks I have realized, resented, and accepted the fact that I am in Africa for 2 years.

Excursions

Donc, Wednesday past, the T.E.F.L. volunteers left Porto Novo to go and visit the sites where they'll spend the next two years teaching.
Toucountouna is absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, beautiful. It's a small village of about 4000 people, nestled among an Appalachian-esque chain of mountains. What's more, the village itself sits on the peak of a mountain in said mountain chain. If I look in any direction, I can see clear across other mountain chains for at least 100 miles--even on rainy days.
At night, the stars can be seen right down to the horizon. The sky in general is so clear, appears so close that one gets the urge to reach up and grab a star. Even better, I can see not just one but several planets on any given night.
The homes of the villages are exactly like you're thinking. They're colored a deep tan brown with straw or tin roofs. The major highway of Benin runs right through my village, and the offshoot roads are made from a kind of stone gravel including brown and red stones. The village and the homes look exactly like the places on the pamphlets trying to entice people to visit strange and exotic lands. In fact, there's a national park about 17 miles away from my town, complete with elephants, lions, gazelle, antelope, and of course crocs, a waterfall 13 miles from my town and a huge lake about 3 miles away.
My home is on a dusty road. 3 rooms, and an external area for doucheeing and bathrooming. It's a cement structure--I will not be huddled in some small dank dark pit pooping :)
Admittedly, I had a very low point during my site visit because it finally dawned on me that I am in Africa and will be here for 2 years and the people I love are back in the States--talk about breakdown. Thank you Rob :)

Lavering mes vetements

After 6 days of school per week, I like to do nothing on Sunday. Hanging out with Erin, Jennifer or Jamie is honestly the most I feel like doing.
It doesn't feel better to talk in English--there's no great relief. I'm honestly just too lazy to want to speak in French on my day of rest.
The point is: God rested on Sunday (or whatever God's 7th day was) and so do I.
Except yesterday.
My host family is nice. Papa and mama--and yes, I must call them that--are very patient avec moi. In such a fashion, my Mama matter-of-factly told me earlier in the week that I was washing my clothes Sunday. And, wash my clothes on Sunday is what I did.
Washing my clothes, by hand, has englightened me in two very important ways.
To begin with; I know why I was born in the 21st century. If I had been born in a time where I had to wash my clothes by hand for my entire life--I would honestly walk around naked.
It took me 4 hours to wash 3 pair of pants, 1 pair of shorts, 3 t shirts, and 10 pair of socks. I have already decided I am only washing my clothes every 2 weeks because I am too lazy to wash them more often.
Secondly, I have a whole new appreciation for the saying "walk a mile in their shoes." . I walked a mile in a washing machine's shoes. I walked that mile for 4 hours. I can say without reservation that I have a new-found love and respect for words like "Spin cycle," "Rinse cycle," "Soak" and the word "repeat" will always have a traumatizingly special meaning to me. When I return to the states, the first thing I'm going to do, save hugging Robert, is hug the washing machine. Hug it and thank it and call the company that produced it and thank them. After that, I'm going to call the local paper and ask them to write a story about the genius of washing machines because I will always tear up with joy as I put my clothes into that wonderful machine and let it do it's magic.
But for now, I'll use my knuckles.

Question: How is it possible for one to be surrounded by 10 very animated people and feel completely alone and isolated?

Answer: They're all speaking french, or a local language and you KNOW they're talking about you.

We arrived at our host families' houses Wednesday night. All of us, who had spent the last 6 days and nights together, scattered about the bustling city of Porto Novo. No cell phones to call and say "this sucks" or AIM/ICHAT to IM and say "save me." For that matter; we didn't even know where any other volunteer was living. I got to my host family's house and realized that my experience would be akin to something like a duckling learning how to swim: not quite drowning, not exactly swimming but doing something in between the two; mouth filled with water, can't exactly catch my breath, all the while wishing to be back on land. C'etait trés, trés emotionale!

"Assiette-toi," my host-mama commanded (equates to plate yourself) and for 2 hours I was asked all sorts of questions in frightening speed by 5 adults. Really, the only word I uttered was "quoi?"

Of course, there is progression.

á la prochaine!

NOTICE THE CARE PACKAGE SECTION TO THE RIGHT!

The Goings Ons of Things

Up at 7, busy until 6. 7 hour plane flight. 5 hour lay over in Paris, France. 7 hour plane flight to Benin. That was my first two days of Peace Corps journey.

By the time I got to Benin, I was sleep deprived, had been wearing the same clothes for 24 hours, had not pooped in 2 whole days, and hadn't eaten anything remotely filling or healthy. Despite that, there is no feeling to describe the way I felt as we wove through traffic in a van full of 29 people--made for 15, arriving to the St. Jean Eudes compound to dozens of current volunteers screaming our names.

No traffic lights, no turn signals, no stop signs, yield signs, lane merges right or left signs, one way signs, or stay on your side of the road lines. No crashes.

Benin is AMAZING. Cotonou, a major city, is huge and dirty and polluted and crowded and absolutely beautiful.

Women carrying baskets of bread on their heads. Women and men with tiny babies strapped to their backs. Men selling huge glass vases of gasoline on the side of the street. Tons of street-side shops selling everything; bread, avacodo, rosaries, dried bananas, dried meat, even cell phone sim cards.

The trees are amazing and to top it off, the ground is all sand--no dirt. It's humid but by no means terrible. I spend my days in a sheen of liquid and my nights relaxing to fans and crickets, sleeping under a mosquito net.

The friends I have made, are definitely making this journey trés beaucoup better! Erin, Jennifer, Dave, and our little nugget Jamie are such amazing people.

No diarrhea despite new and strange food exposed to insects. No malaria despite tons of mosquito bites. No feelings of regret despite the fact that I miss Roberto so much.

Benin is where I should be.

I miss all of you very much.

Up, down, side to side.

Sitting in the car, on the way to orientation, I feel so focused I can barely pay attention to the conversation happening around me.

My stomach rumbles, partly to release my overwhelming sense of anxiety but mostly because I haven't eaten anything and it's nearly 11 o' clock. Starving, the thought of food repulses me.

Each mile we drive I feel a ripping. The image in my head is this: I'm a gummy bear being peeled off a wall. Perfectly content, I'm forcibly moved from a blissful state of suspension to something else. Sure I asked to be moved; want to be moved; can find the value in being moved but now I feel a tinge of regret. I'm making people sad, I don't want to leave the comfort of my home or Rob's embrace.

Lunch comes with fellow future Peace Corps Volunteers, and they're great people.

Time to say goodbye. I feel so guilty. Jenna's crying, Claire's crying, and Meaghan's depressed. Am I playing with fate? I found love--I have love and now I've said "hold on."

They're proud of me, I do know.

What I feel most at this point though is this: Robert Curtis Wimer Jr. I love you with all of my heart and soul. I could not have made this journey without your help and unyielding support. I will miss you terribly--more than I can ever put in words. You are literally my everything. Please don't be sad. Keep your head up. Do things. I'll see you soon.

Specifics

Alright, it's official I am going to Benin. 

My new date for orientation is July 21st, 2009. I will be headed to Benin two days later, on July 23rd.

I am still a TEFL (Teacher of English as a Foreign Language) Volunteer, and my committment to service is still 27 months--which is a little sucky because had I gone to Madagascar I would've completed service and returned home around my birthday.

The good:

Cell phone usage is more common, mail won't take as long to arrive as in Madagscar--although it's still pretty slow, I won't have to eat rice 3 times a day, I'll get to use more french, and I don't have to deal with tropical insects.

The bad: 

Benin's cool season is not as long as Madagascar's so even though Benin has a tropical climate in the south the availability of tropical fruit isn't as great, anndd....I've read that Benin is considered a hardship position. My previous assumption was that all PC experiences were considered hardship position--WTF mate, now I have to reorient myself to the insects I'll come across--or that will come across me (blekh), and NO LEMURS!!!m