Since Rachelle has limited access to the internet I am posting a few pictures for her. I will post more later when her mother can help me decide what pictures to post. I just recieved these pictures so I have no idea for captions. Rachelle's Dad
Friday, December 28, 2007
Au Village
I know it's been a while since I wrote an entry; it's not that I don't have Internet access, it's just when I do, I don't know where to begin. A few people have been asking about some details so I'll try to describe things as best as I can (and I'm sure you are aware by now I am a terrible writer, so things might be a little random).
My house is a triplex; I live on one end, the principle of the high school lives in the center and my landlord with his many children lives on the opposite end. It is made out of cement bricks with a tin roof and we each have a little front porch. There is one window in each of my two rooms and until recently (I just painted the front room) it resembled a prison cell. My shower is a cement box located behind my house along with my latrine. I don't have electricity so around 7:00 each night I light my lantern and/or use my head lamp to finish making dinner or open a book to read. I spend most of my time reading.
My water is bought to me by a women who is expecting a baby and pretty soon. She carries the basin filled with water from the pump (the village's only source of clean water, yet I still have to filter and boil it before I drink it or else I'll get sick) to my house where she tilts her head just so and pours the water into a large garbage can in my front room without spilling it over the edges. She usually comes with her son who is about 3 or4, shy, and a little scared of me; he waits for her by the mango tree in front of my house, he won't come any closer.
My house does not resemble those of my neighbors. Very few homes have front porches, latrines, decent sized windows, etc. A home the size of mine might have a family of 8 or more. Children share 2-3 to a bed (if they have a bed) and 4-6 to a room, they might share a room with their parents (so if one family member is sick with a cold, they all have a cold). Some are made out of mud brinks and few have thatch roofs. The shower boxes are scattered throughout the village and only come up to the person's shoulders, so you can see who's showering if you were to be walking around.
Walking around you would also see the women at work. Carrying water from the pump or well, hand washing laundry (the basin is set on the ground and the women bend at the hip resting one arm on a knee as they scrub the clothes while their strong backs are kept straight- I also wash my clothes this way, however not as gracefully), preparing meals, selling vegetables they brought back from the fields, or working as a tallier with their sewing machines set outside. The women most likely have a baby strapped to their backs (I get nervous when I do this, but the baby's really don't go anywhere) or a toddler alongside them, or both.
On Fridays, the women set up booths at the market. This is where you buy your food, house accessories, fabric to make clothes, etc. Prices are not fixed, so you have to bargain (I am not good at bargaining and usually end up paying a higher price). You can even buy american style clothes which look like they came from the 80s and were once donated to the salvation army. The women in village usually wear a t-shirt of this style with a pagne (translated to loin cloth), faded from years of use, wrapped around their waste. If they are travelling or want to look nice for a celebration, they will either wear a boomba or a model (I'll try to get pictures). Men wear western clothing or the traditional boombas. The more imporant the man the more elaborate his boomba.
The food here consists of starch, starch and more starch served with a thin tomato sauce. Vegetables are hard to come by. There is la pate (pronounced pot) made from corn meal and has the consistency of jello, you eat it with your fingers and dip it into a tomato sauce that is most likely spicy from hot peppers. Yam pile is pounded yams, it reminds me of a thick mash potato. It is also eaten with your fingers and dipped into a sauce, sometimes it is a peanut sauce. (Yam pile with peanut sauce is my favorite here.) You also have your rice serve with beans, I eat rice here with a spoon, but again a lot of people use their fingers. Meat here is tough and hard to chew, and the whole animal is eaten. Just the other day my neighbor's kids were dividing up pieces of a rat, it wasn't skinned, looked like charcoal, and they even ate most of the bones including the head. I'm glad they didn't offer it to me, somethings I'm willing to try (like goat and bushrat which are not so bad), but other things I'm not. They also eat snakes here. (Speaking of snakes I saw a green tree snake that was scared out of it's tree, killed and burned and a cobra. I didn't see the cobra until my homologue reacted by grabbing my arm to pull me away. His response was anti-venom is very expensive.)
Well, that's the highlights of my village. I'll try to write again sooner than later.
My house is a triplex; I live on one end, the principle of the high school lives in the center and my landlord with his many children lives on the opposite end. It is made out of cement bricks with a tin roof and we each have a little front porch. There is one window in each of my two rooms and until recently (I just painted the front room) it resembled a prison cell. My shower is a cement box located behind my house along with my latrine. I don't have electricity so around 7:00 each night I light my lantern and/or use my head lamp to finish making dinner or open a book to read. I spend most of my time reading.
My water is bought to me by a women who is expecting a baby and pretty soon. She carries the basin filled with water from the pump (the village's only source of clean water, yet I still have to filter and boil it before I drink it or else I'll get sick) to my house where she tilts her head just so and pours the water into a large garbage can in my front room without spilling it over the edges. She usually comes with her son who is about 3 or4, shy, and a little scared of me; he waits for her by the mango tree in front of my house, he won't come any closer.
My house does not resemble those of my neighbors. Very few homes have front porches, latrines, decent sized windows, etc. A home the size of mine might have a family of 8 or more. Children share 2-3 to a bed (if they have a bed) and 4-6 to a room, they might share a room with their parents (so if one family member is sick with a cold, they all have a cold). Some are made out of mud brinks and few have thatch roofs. The shower boxes are scattered throughout the village and only come up to the person's shoulders, so you can see who's showering if you were to be walking around.
Walking around you would also see the women at work. Carrying water from the pump or well, hand washing laundry (the basin is set on the ground and the women bend at the hip resting one arm on a knee as they scrub the clothes while their strong backs are kept straight- I also wash my clothes this way, however not as gracefully), preparing meals, selling vegetables they brought back from the fields, or working as a tallier with their sewing machines set outside. The women most likely have a baby strapped to their backs (I get nervous when I do this, but the baby's really don't go anywhere) or a toddler alongside them, or both.
On Fridays, the women set up booths at the market. This is where you buy your food, house accessories, fabric to make clothes, etc. Prices are not fixed, so you have to bargain (I am not good at bargaining and usually end up paying a higher price). You can even buy american style clothes which look like they came from the 80s and were once donated to the salvation army. The women in village usually wear a t-shirt of this style with a pagne (translated to loin cloth), faded from years of use, wrapped around their waste. If they are travelling or want to look nice for a celebration, they will either wear a boomba or a model (I'll try to get pictures). Men wear western clothing or the traditional boombas. The more imporant the man the more elaborate his boomba.
The food here consists of starch, starch and more starch served with a thin tomato sauce. Vegetables are hard to come by. There is la pate (pronounced pot) made from corn meal and has the consistency of jello, you eat it with your fingers and dip it into a tomato sauce that is most likely spicy from hot peppers. Yam pile is pounded yams, it reminds me of a thick mash potato. It is also eaten with your fingers and dipped into a sauce, sometimes it is a peanut sauce. (Yam pile with peanut sauce is my favorite here.) You also have your rice serve with beans, I eat rice here with a spoon, but again a lot of people use their fingers. Meat here is tough and hard to chew, and the whole animal is eaten. Just the other day my neighbor's kids were dividing up pieces of a rat, it wasn't skinned, looked like charcoal, and they even ate most of the bones including the head. I'm glad they didn't offer it to me, somethings I'm willing to try (like goat and bushrat which are not so bad), but other things I'm not. They also eat snakes here. (Speaking of snakes I saw a green tree snake that was scared out of it's tree, killed and burned and a cobra. I didn't see the cobra until my homologue reacted by grabbing my arm to pull me away. His response was anti-venom is very expensive.)
Well, that's the highlights of my village. I'll try to write again sooner than later.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Petite a Petite
Things here have been going well. My day typically consists of alot of reading, entertaining children that stop by and going down to the health center where I sit under a tree with my homologue's wife or some of the boys that work at the health center. I have also started teaching English to a few girls after school. I have no idea what I'm doing, but it gives the girls a chance to hang out and not have to worry about chores. Village is really started to feel like home. It seems like everyday I am learning something new about the village or meeting someone new. I am no longer nervous about walking through the village and the people have really warmed up to me. They love when I try to speak the local language, I only know a few of the saluations and how to say "I am full" when offered food, but it's enough to make them smile.
The villagers wake up early to do their chores before the day begins and the children go to school. Most of the villagers make a living by selling charcoal or other various things. Looking out from my porch you will see many women walking by to sell who knows what carried on top of their heads, a baby strapped on their back, and a toddler walking besides them. They sometimes even come directly to my door to see if I want what they have to offer; quite convient.
Well, I'm not sure what else to say. It's hard to pick and choose what to write about. I'm going to try to post some pictures, but I'm not sure if it will work. I love to hear from people back home. I have alot of free time on my hands and often wonder about how everyone is doing, so try to keep in touch.
The villagers wake up early to do their chores before the day begins and the children go to school. Most of the villagers make a living by selling charcoal or other various things. Looking out from my porch you will see many women walking by to sell who knows what carried on top of their heads, a baby strapped on their back, and a toddler walking besides them. They sometimes even come directly to my door to see if I want what they have to offer; quite convient.
Well, I'm not sure what else to say. It's hard to pick and choose what to write about. I'm going to try to post some pictures, but I'm not sure if it will work. I love to hear from people back home. I have alot of free time on my hands and often wonder about how everyone is doing, so try to keep in touch.
Monday, October 1, 2007
In Village
Last Monday I left my host family and moved to my post, a small village in the department of Collines. Collines translates to hills and on the way here I passes many of the collines which are oddly grouped in 3s or 4s and displaced throughout the region. It*s quite scenic and a change from where I had my training in the south, which is completely flat, yet still beautiful.
When the taxi pulled into my village I was greeted by about a dozen children who seemed to be waiting for me all weekend. They eagerly helped me unload the taxi and move into my house which is set up kinda like a duplex. I have two rooms on the end with no electricity or running water, I also have no privacy for my shower, latrine and kitchen are all outside; I can actually wave to my neighbors as I take a bucket shower. Fortunately, my community has offered to build me a fence and construct a back door (not quite sure how that*s possible considering my walls are cement, but we*ll see how things go).
However, I do have a porch and two gorgeous mango trees out front. I have already spent most my time here sitting on my porch reading or watching the goats, chickens, and pigs search for food. Some of the children randomly stop by, say a word or two, then just stare at me in silence. It sounds awkward, but it*s nice to have the company.
Now that I am in my village, I*m not supposed to start working at the health center for the first three months. It*s supposed to give us time to integrate into the community and assess its needs. I plan on using the time to explore the region see what*s around and find where I can but some food. There is a market in my village, but it only comes on Fridays, even then it has little to offer. I was only able to find tomatoes, onions and pasta when I went. So, I will probably make trips to nearby towns, unfortunately I know I won*t be able to find cheese, chocolate or ice cream.
Settling into my house has also been keeping me busy. I only have two rooms, but I can*t seem to sweep enough in one day; sand comes from no where. I also had to get a couple of bats out my front door. I*m not easily startled by critters, but bats flying around my head was enough to make me cringe. Since then, I had the opening where they came in covered, so hopefully, besides lizards and spiders, I won*t have anymore unwelcome guests.
Overall, I think I*m going to like life in my village. I still have some adjusting to do, such as getting used to the transportation (it took me over two hours to get to the Internet cafe), but that will come with time. Hope all is going well with everyone!
When the taxi pulled into my village I was greeted by about a dozen children who seemed to be waiting for me all weekend. They eagerly helped me unload the taxi and move into my house which is set up kinda like a duplex. I have two rooms on the end with no electricity or running water, I also have no privacy for my shower, latrine and kitchen are all outside; I can actually wave to my neighbors as I take a bucket shower. Fortunately, my community has offered to build me a fence and construct a back door (not quite sure how that*s possible considering my walls are cement, but we*ll see how things go).
However, I do have a porch and two gorgeous mango trees out front. I have already spent most my time here sitting on my porch reading or watching the goats, chickens, and pigs search for food. Some of the children randomly stop by, say a word or two, then just stare at me in silence. It sounds awkward, but it*s nice to have the company.
Now that I am in my village, I*m not supposed to start working at the health center for the first three months. It*s supposed to give us time to integrate into the community and assess its needs. I plan on using the time to explore the region see what*s around and find where I can but some food. There is a market in my village, but it only comes on Fridays, even then it has little to offer. I was only able to find tomatoes, onions and pasta when I went. So, I will probably make trips to nearby towns, unfortunately I know I won*t be able to find cheese, chocolate or ice cream.
Settling into my house has also been keeping me busy. I only have two rooms, but I can*t seem to sweep enough in one day; sand comes from no where. I also had to get a couple of bats out my front door. I*m not easily startled by critters, but bats flying around my head was enough to make me cringe. Since then, I had the opening where they came in covered, so hopefully, besides lizards and spiders, I won*t have anymore unwelcome guests.
Overall, I think I*m going to like life in my village. I still have some adjusting to do, such as getting used to the transportation (it took me over two hours to get to the Internet cafe), but that will come with time. Hope all is going well with everyone!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Finishing training
The second half of training has flown by. I have been busy with classes as well as travelling around Benin. I am having trouble accepting the fact that it is already the month of September.
Almost a month ago I visited my post, a small village in the middle of the country. During my visit I was introduced to many of the villagers including the king (who I was informed is content with me). I stayed in one of the rooms of the hospital where I will be working. I noticed that not too many people speak French in my village, they speak a local language called Nagot. So the first few months living there should be interesting.
After my post visit, we went to Ouiddah, which is the biggest tourist area of Benin (which is not saying much). There we went to a sacred forest, the python temple, which is just a house full of snakes, and the beach where thousands of slaves were taken from Benin. It was a great way to learn about the history of the country.
This past weekend we went to another beach, but it had a completely different vibe. We went to Grand Po Po and spent the whole day lounging on the beach overlooking the ocean that's too dangerous to swim in.
It hasn't been all fun and games though. These past two months I've been able to improve my French just enough to pass the exam. My host family held a celebration for me with a bottle of champagne and a present. They have truly added to my experience so far.
So, tomorrow I swear in as a volunteer. Yay! and I move to my post on Monday- I was told that it is one of the scariest moments of peace corps service so wish me luck. I miss everyone so much and look forward to your letters and emails.
And Happy Birthday Sara!!!
Almost a month ago I visited my post, a small village in the middle of the country. During my visit I was introduced to many of the villagers including the king (who I was informed is content with me). I stayed in one of the rooms of the hospital where I will be working. I noticed that not too many people speak French in my village, they speak a local language called Nagot. So the first few months living there should be interesting.
After my post visit, we went to Ouiddah, which is the biggest tourist area of Benin (which is not saying much). There we went to a sacred forest, the python temple, which is just a house full of snakes, and the beach where thousands of slaves were taken from Benin. It was a great way to learn about the history of the country.
This past weekend we went to another beach, but it had a completely different vibe. We went to Grand Po Po and spent the whole day lounging on the beach overlooking the ocean that's too dangerous to swim in.
It hasn't been all fun and games though. These past two months I've been able to improve my French just enough to pass the exam. My host family held a celebration for me with a bottle of champagne and a present. They have truly added to my experience so far.
So, tomorrow I swear in as a volunteer. Yay! and I move to my post on Monday- I was told that it is one of the scariest moments of peace corps service so wish me luck. I miss everyone so much and look forward to your letters and emails.
And Happy Birthday Sara!!!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Life in Benin
Most days consist of training in language, culture, various technical skills and interacting with my host family who have been extremely welcoming every since they took me back to their house. The house is located in the market, which comes every five days. It has two bedrooms, I sleep in one room and the family sleeps in the other. The kitchen is outside along with the shower, and by shower I mean an area with a bucket filled with refreshingly cold water. My host Papa helps me with my french and how to become accostomed to te local alcohol which reminds me of a cross between tequilla and vodka. My Mama has been teaching me the Beninese way of cooking, they put hot peppers in every dish, handwashing my clothes and running a household. Like all Beninese women, she does everything with a baby strapped on her back and makes it look so easy. The little girl is 16 months old and such a cutie. There is also a neighbor who I absolutly adore; he is two and always has the biggest smile when he sees me and runs to greet me, unlike another neighbor who cries everytime she sees me.
During our free time, myself and the other trainees will get together at a local buvette for something cold to drink, which in a luxury in this heat. The weather has been in the 80s and humid, it is also the rain season. We*ve also biked to the next town to visit other trainees. The bike ride was very scenic, we passed beautiful countrysides covered in green. Last weekend a few of us went to go see hippos. We went out on a very small, somewhat questionable canoe, where a guide pushed us along the shallow lake that was isolated except for a few fishermen who fish naked for luck. We didn*t get too close to the hippos, but even from a distance you can tell their vastness from seeing their eyes poke out of the water. The baby was just waking up as we were about to leave, we were informed that his name means danger. It was a remarkable experience. If anyone comes to visit Ill take you to see the hippos, there*s rumor that another baby is on the way.
Overall, life here is pretty great. I often fall asleep to the sound of the market or rain hitting the tin roof and wake up to drums playing in the distance. Not much to complain about, except for maybe the lack of ice cream.
During our free time, myself and the other trainees will get together at a local buvette for something cold to drink, which in a luxury in this heat. The weather has been in the 80s and humid, it is also the rain season. We*ve also biked to the next town to visit other trainees. The bike ride was very scenic, we passed beautiful countrysides covered in green. Last weekend a few of us went to go see hippos. We went out on a very small, somewhat questionable canoe, where a guide pushed us along the shallow lake that was isolated except for a few fishermen who fish naked for luck. We didn*t get too close to the hippos, but even from a distance you can tell their vastness from seeing their eyes poke out of the water. The baby was just waking up as we were about to leave, we were informed that his name means danger. It was a remarkable experience. If anyone comes to visit Ill take you to see the hippos, there*s rumor that another baby is on the way.
Overall, life here is pretty great. I often fall asleep to the sound of the market or rain hitting the tin roof and wake up to drums playing in the distance. Not much to complain about, except for maybe the lack of ice cream.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Arriving in Benin
I rrived in Cotonou late Friday night after a 7.5 flight to Paris, a 5 hour layover and another 6 hour flight to Benin. We were greeted by many of the current volunteers and were taken to a Church like place where we have been staying. So far it’s been a lot of training and overview of what to expect. I love Benin so far! I had my first French lesson on Sunday and yesterday I learned how to drive a zemidjan (a motorcycle like means of transportation), the training also included how to bargain the price and how to get on with a skirt and without burning yourself on the tailpipe. I also bought a pineapple from a woman who was carrying the platter of them on her head, it was the best pineapple that I have ever had. I will be meeting my host family on Thursday where I will be for the next ~9 weeks; there I will be doing more in depth training for my job and try to enhance my French speaking skills. I’ll try to keep this blog updated but between my slacking and the possibility of having not so great internet, I can’t guarantee anything so feel free to email me or write; my address is:
Rachelle St. Onge, PCV
Corps de la Paix American
01 B.P. 971
Cotonou, Benin
Afrique de l’ Ouest
(West Africa)
On the envelope write Par avion (Air Mail) and number your letters (yes I am expecting letters). I will be able to receive mail from this site for the next two years. Hope all is going well in the States!
Rachelle St. Onge, PCV
Corps de la Paix American
01 B.P. 971
Cotonou, Benin
Afrique de l’ Ouest
(West Africa)
On the envelope write Par avion (Air Mail) and number your letters (yes I am expecting letters). I will be able to receive mail from this site for the next two years. Hope all is going well in the States!
Monday, July 9, 2007
A little story by Leah Schultz
Rachelle squinted as she reached an area of unbroken sunlight. The trees forming a surrounding que as if urging her to stand stage center.
"Everything has purpose," she wispered. The trees rustled like an encouraging crowd. Rachelle squared herself and raised her voice a little louder. "Everything and Everyone has meaning. You just have to find it. I just have to find it. I,.... I have purpose." Her voice dropped to a wisper, again, as the kaleidoscope stilled and the jewels burned bright and clear. So clear.
Rachelle truned towards home. She was purpose in motion. She smiled at that. She was a biochemical reaction. Exergonic, energy liberated. She laughed and now running she saw what she could be. Breath hitched from exertion and joy she stretched towards the possibilities. Rachelle saw her future, bright and clear and she ran towards it.
Rachelle stood quiet and still. Her heart was beset by a sense of temporary, like all of this was just a suspended moment. A hushed pause of beauty before the kaleidoscope of life began to turn once more. Perhaps that's all it was. Plastic jewels trapped in a tube, set aglow by direct sunshine. Rachelle mentally turned away from the thought. She began to walk as if to put physical distance from that hollow vein.
Her dark hair glistted from the sun as she padded from sunshine to shade, sunshine to shade. Walking and thinking. "Everything has purpose," she thought. "Everything a motive, a meaning."
"Temporal thinking is wasteful." She huffed, walking still. "It robbed the thinker of heart and movement."
"Everything has purpose," she wispered. The trees rustled like an encouraging crowd. Rachelle squared herself and raised her voice a little louder. "Everything and Everyone has meaning. You just have to find it. I just have to find it. I,.... I have purpose." Her voice dropped to a wisper, again, as the kaleidoscope stilled and the jewels burned bright and clear. So clear.
Rachelle truned towards home. She was purpose in motion. She smiled at that. She was a biochemical reaction. Exergonic, energy liberated. She laughed and now running she saw what she could be. Breath hitched from exertion and joy she stretched towards the possibilities. Rachelle saw her future, bright and clear and she ran towards it.
Rachelle stood quiet and still. Her heart was beset by a sense of temporary, like all of this was just a suspended moment. A hushed pause of beauty before the kaleidoscope of life began to turn once more. Perhaps that's all it was. Plastic jewels trapped in a tube, set aglow by direct sunshine. Rachelle mentally turned away from the thought. She began to walk as if to put physical distance from that hollow vein.
Her dark hair glistted from the sun as she padded from sunshine to shade, sunshine to shade. Walking and thinking. "Everything has purpose," she thought. "Everything a motive, a meaning."
"Temporal thinking is wasteful." She huffed, walking still. "It robbed the thinker of heart and movement."
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