The World Changes Every Day

I’ve been in Benin for a bit more than a year now.   That means, that I’m experiencing holidays and seasons for the second time.   Last year, when I went for my two week post visit, my community (and all Muslim communities around the world) was fasting for Ramadan.   It was the end of the fast, and my host mother wasn’t fasting so it didn’t really impact my life much.   I ate and drank throughout the day as usual.   This year, however, I was in village for pretty much the entire fast.   I knew I wasn’t going to fast for the entire month, but I learned that children learn how to fast by doing one or two days at a time.   Early on during Ramadan (which lasted this year from July 9-August 7), I asked Nafisa (the 10-year-old) if she was fasting.   “Not today,” she said.   “But I am going to fast tomorrow.”   So I decided I’d try it the next day too. Some background for those not all that familiar with Islam and with how Ramadan works: fasting for a month doesn’t mean you

I’ve been in Benin for a bit more than a year now, an official volunteer after training for exactly 10 months.   It’s hard to believe that it’s been so long.   I celebrated my one year arrival in country anniversary, June 27, in the best way I could imagine – welcoming the new group of 52 volunteers to Benin.   Myself and another volunteer were selected to be their trainers during orientation week.   It was a hectic time, running around making sure everyone got to the various interviews with program staff, had headshots taken, signed paperwork, got food to eat… all while answering question after question.   The new volunteers are wonderful, and their enthusiasm renewed my excitement for being here as well.   This is really a pretty neat thing we’re doing.   For now I’m back in post, but I’ll be traveling back south (where all the training takes place) in about a month to do technical training with the Environment volunteers.   In village, the days of sitting around and wondering

Off and on, I have mentioned a 10-year-old girl named Nafisa in my posts.   As the best French speaker in my concession, she’s often my translator.   She also brings me my drinking water, carrying a big “bidon” (yellow carton) of water from the pump to my house on her head for 100f (about 20 cents) whenever I need it.   Child labor might be frowned upon in America, but when I asked the mother of my concession how I should get water this is what she suggested – and I do pay twice the going rate for water.   Nafisa loves the spending money.   She is also my “bouncer” – when I walk by the elementary school and am mobbed by screaming children, Nafisa runs into the crowd of kids and clears them away, shoving and pulling them by their uniforms.   Early in my service, it sometimes felt strange that my best friend was a 10-year-old.   But I’m used to it by now.     Nafisa may be able to carry heavier loads on her head than me, work harder than me in the fields, and speak better French

A lot of you have probably heard the “Toughest Job You’ll Ever Love” slogan about Peace Corps.   I’ve been here about a year now – one year on June 27 – and have done my best to share the experience through this blog.   I think most of my posts have confirmed the “love” part of that slogan – I do love this job.   It’s a truly amazing experience.   Whenever I leave or return to my village, I ride a motorcycle along beautiful red dirt roads, through fields that are now turning green again, past herds of white cattle and groups of brightly-dressed girls and women carrying big basins of water on their heads.   Dozens of people – the girls carrying water, men working in the fields or relaxing in the shade of trees – wave and call out my name.   “Gorado!   Gorado!”   The name I’ve been given means “One who has been sent from far away to achieve a mission, and returns with a good result.”   What a vote of confidence!   I have spent much of my life daydreaming over the photos and stories o

My day as a Marché Mama* In my Women’s Group Garden, we had a large public bed planted full of lettuce.   The produce from the public beds is meant to be sold for the profit of the group as a whole, to pay for things like supplies or repairs to the irrigation.   The only problem – not many people were coming to the garden to buy the lettuce, the women said it just doesn’t sell.   People aren’t much into salads here.   I was sure they were right, but wanted to find out just how hard it is to sell lettuce here.   So about a month and a half ago, I suggested that one of the women harvest a lot of lettuce from the public bed and bring it to our weekly market on Sunday to see if anyone would buy it.   I offered to go sit with the designated woman in the market to observe how things went.   Bana, my “host mother” from my concession and also a member of the gardening group, offered that her 10-year-old daughter Nafisa could sell the lettuce.   Sunday came along.   I got back to my co

Yes, I realize that there was no Month   7 work post – time has really started to fly!   Talking to other volunteers, we find it hard to believe that there was a time when it was a major victory to find enough to do to fill a day.   Here’s a summary of where I am work-wise: Garden Since my last work post, my garden has been a bit of an “emotional roller coaster.”   It peaked in a wonderful bounty of summer squash, cucumbers, melons, lettuce, greens, basil… I was feasting, and sending bags of produce to my neighboring volunteer.   But then, the bugs struck.   Everything grows faster in the African heat, but it also seems to get attacked harder.   I had a major infestation of aphids and others on my cucumbers and other plants, having to pull out a lot of them.   I tried preparing natural insecticides using Neem (a tree with oils in the leaves that deter bugs) but these work better as a preventative measure, and can’t get rid of an insect attack already well underway.   My green

These are photos from a trip I took with other volunteers to Park Pendjari, one of Benin's two national parks.  We saw lots of great animals! Hippos! And a reminder of the love surrounding us If you look closely there's a lion in this picture

The month the heat began.   Here in Benin, they don’t say “the hot season” – they say “the heat,” as if the heat is an entity unto itself.   It really is.   It defines your schedule – work is done in the morning, until around noon, and again in the afternoon, after four or five.   But nothing in the middle of the day.   Since this is meant to be a work post, here’s what I’ve been doing in my mornings and evenings: Gardening The garden has continued to grow well.   I’m really spoiled, gardening in Africa – plants grow at breakneck speed.   I’m sure to be disappointed and impatient when I garden back at home.   During the month I continued to tend to my bed in the women’s garden, eating my first lettuce, summer squash, and amaranth in early March.   I prepared natural insecticides several times out of leaves from the neem tree, hot pepper, and tobacco leaves, and these seemed to work well for keeping bugs at bay. On an organizational level, my counterpart and I established a