Bein' in Benin

A week into my first vacation away from Niger. It's been fun, it's been exhausting, but it feels great to get away from that heat.

We crossed into Malanville, on the border with Niger, across the river from Gaya, where Peace Corps has an education Volunteer posted. There were many clauses in that sentence but bear with me. Gaya is the greenest part of Niger. It is the furthest south and gets the most rain, so it's like paradise for most Volunteers who have never left country. As we traveled south through Benin, though, through Kandi and Parakou all the way down to Bohicon, the greenery blew everything Niger has out of the water (If Niger actually had any water, this might be applicable, but again, bear with me). From the savannah grasslands, we slowly worked our way south through the Atakaora Mountains and into dense forest and even jungle. Along the way we saw mountains of mangos, both for sale and just as trash. Benin's farmers have already started planting yams and corn, something which is still at least a month away for Nigerien millet farmers. Just from a bus ride on the main highway we could tell were in the land of milk and honey.

Our first stop was in Abomey, about ten hours south of Malanville and the Niger border. We traveled Inter City bus lines. These buses are brand new and better than anything we have in Niger. Air conditioning, padded seats, leg room, and all the poorly dubbed, bad Brazilian soap operas you could want. And who could resist "Le Retour de Beyonce" (not the singer). Like I said, milk and honey. Abomey is the capital of the old Dahomey empire. The Dahomeyans were a bloody lot. Each king had a birthright to leave a larger territory for his successor. They were constantly at war, and they did a pretty good job of things. By the time the Portugese and the French arrived, the Dahomeyans were in control of most of the country, and their power only expanded with the slave trade. The Dahomeyan empire worked with the Europeans to capture slaves. The more slaves they brought, the more guns, tobacco, and alcohol the Dahomeyans received. At its height, they were moving 20,000 slaves a year through the ports of Ouidah, Grand Popo, and Porto Novo. The kings were unbelievably brutal to their enemies and to friends who no longer entertained them. We saw torture devices, chains, cannons, and all sorts of blood and gore. King Guézo's throne was mounted on the heads of four former enemies. The walls to the fortresses were said to be painted in blood. Unfortunately, not many of these fortresses are still around. Of the twelve original palaces, ten no longer exist, and the city of Abomey is on the UN's list of Endangered World Heritage Sites. The palace in the best condition is that of King Glèlè, which boasts beautiful, though grotesque, bas-relief sculptures depicting the various torture methods employed by the Dahomey empire. He was succeeded by his son Béhanzin, the last king of the last traditional empire in Africa. The French, their colonial power growing, found an excuse in the Dahomeyan "savagery" and, with superior weaponry and tactics, defeated the Dahomeyans, despite their corps of elite fighting women, the only true force of Amazons in history.

From Abomey, we headed down to Cotonou to pick up our visas for Ghana. Cotonou is a ridiculous city. It's the busiest, noisiest, smoggiest city I've ever been too, and that includes New York and London. It seems like every third person has a motorcycle, and all are simultaneously attempting to drive them as fast as possible. We've run into a lot of Peace Corps Volunteers here, even staying a few nights in their bureau workspace, and they have been so more than helpful. They helped with our Ghana visas, found us some great food (Indian, Thai, and Lebanese, it's been so long!), and just generally were great, amazingly friendly people (as most Peace Corps Volunteers are). We took day trips out to the capital Porto Novo, which is really only the capital in name, as everything happens in Cotonou, and to Ouidah, a voodoo stronghold. The south has a lot of great colonial architecture, with Portugese, French, and Brazilian influences. Also, the Voodoo around here is very prevalent. As much as 50% of Beninois claim Voodun as their religion, though I think just about everyone incorporates it into their belief struture at least somewhat.

Now we're in Natitingou in Northern Benin after renting a car for the day with three other Volunteers. Natitingou is in the mountains, and it's beautiful here. It's so much cooler and less humid than anywhere else we've been. Today we took a day trip out to Tanguieta and then to Tanougou to see the waterfalls. The falls are just south of a major safari destination in Park Penjari, but we cannot go because of the expense. We did have a good time exploring the mountains and swimming in the pools, so despite not seeing lions or elephants, we can't complain too much. Tomorrow we'll be heading out for Boukoumbé, on the border with Togo to see the traditional houses of the Betamaribé people, also known as the Somba. They successfully defended themselves from Dahomeyan slave traders because they live spread out in their fields in fortress-like compounds. They store all of their food in granaries within the towers of their houses, so they could hole up for months without any problems. In short, they were too difficult to capture for most slavers. From there we'll cross the border into Togo, and the second week of our vacation will commence. Until then, au revoir.

Isolation and Vacation

Hello all. Apologies for the inexcusable lack of posts lately. I've been back in village hiding from the terrorists. Would you know it, the village hasn't gotten around to installing wireless yet. Lazy is what I say. Though maybe they need the electricity and the running water before they start worrying about checking their email.

I never introduced the restrictions, and for that I apologize. I actually lost the sheet that spelled them all out. What it basically comes down to is that I have to maintain as low a profile as possible. That means, to the American embassy, that I cannot leave my village more than once a month. I can go to market because it is only a kilometer away. I cannot go to any of the other villages along the road, or go to see my friends at the French government site. I'm not allowed to go north or west of the paved road, which is unfortunate because it means I cannot explore the mesas looming over my village, and I will have to find new fields come rainy season. (But I have been cleared if I farm with my villagers, which could be fun. I might take that into consideration.) Only Nigerien staff members can visit my site, and only if they take a bush taxi. No American government vehicles are allowed to go up my road. This includes diplomatic missions, Peace Corps, and USAID. In addition, no Volunteer is allowed to visit, and the two younger Volunteers, my closest neighbors were both forced to relocate villages in the Dosso region. So I am now 120km away from anyone, not allowed to go anywhere, nor allowed to see any other Americans for weeks at a time. It's just me, my village, and my villagers.

So how's it been? Surprisingly, not as bad as I had thought. My integration has skyrocketed. Indeed, it had no choice but to get better as I never see anyone else. I only speak English when my family calls or when I talk to myself (which happens disturbingly often these days. I really hope my villagers don't think I'm schizo or possessed by spirits or something). My Zarma has gotten pretty strong. I'm confident in it, and I've begun relearning French. This is a bit harder because the African accent tends to chew all the words together.

I've also started real work in village. My gardens all died while I was away because my gardener friend didn't bother to water them. I guess he thought I wasn't coming back. But I've been working with my women's group to improve their large garden, and I have also started work on a school garden. By July, I'll be teaching small children gardening, health, and nutrition. I don't know why they allowed me near children, but it's pretty hard to warp minds in a different language. Rainy season will be busy, what with the women's garden project, the school garden, and my fields.

But for now, it's hot season. It hasn't been too bad, but the seasonal calendar basically eliminates any work for an agriculture Volunteer at this point in time. If my gardens hadn't died I could still have tomatoes and peppers, but there's no use crying over dead plants. I've not been doing a whole lot. I occasionally take morning walks around Damana, but it's getting too hot for much activity. I had one run-in with heat stress which basically shut down my body's internal thermostat. Not too fun. So I've just been chillin' in the shade, visiting my friends, and chatting. I've started playing soccer with the teachers and older students in the evening. You want a workout, try playing football/soccer with anyone in a developing country. They're so freaking good. Playing in the desert is about like snorting sand, but you get used to it. Anytime a large chunk of cow sh*t can change the outcome of the game, well you know you're bound to have fun.

And now I'm in Niamey because I'm going on vacation in three days. I'm so excited. This is my first vacation. I've been in village for over a year now. (!) My how time flies. Three of us are going down to Benin, Togo, and Ghana, with a return trip through Burkina Faso. We'll escape the Nigerien heat, as all these countries are cooler because of the coast. We'll also be in the mountains, on the beach, in Ghana's lake district, Togo's coffee country, and Benin's voodoo regions. All this and slave history to boot. Don't you wish you could come along?

Well that's about all I have the patience for right now. Hope everyone out there is safe and happy. Until next time.

Sterling