OKAY, I was given this Muslim name this past week when I visited my petite village, Prèkètè. I am the FIRST Peace Corps volunteer they have ever had, therefore I am Fatimatou, which means “first daughter.” I also received a name in Lokpa, the local language, “Gnon” (pronounced yohn), which also means “premiere fille.” Nonetheless, I feel pretty special but also feel loads of pressure to deliver some big projects in the next two years. There is no way I can recount all that I have experienced in the last week but I will do my best to relive it…
So, last Monday and Tuesday we had a seminar where all of us met our homologue or “work partner” who will be our counterpart for the next two years. Now I have heard a lot of interesting stories regarding homologues, in that some of them are really motivated and want to help you find work and others don’t talk to you after the first month at post because they are too busy. Well, I have the nicest man for my homologue. His name is Daudoa and he is not only overly excited to have me but also wants to follow every Peace Corps rule there is. I was so relieved to not be intimidated nor feel uncomfortable with him. He doesn’t speak great French but we’ll make it work. All the homologues went through training on Monday and Tuesday where the Peace Corps explained our roles as volunteers and also our limitations (for example we are not here to bring tons of money to the village but to help them in technical ways). I’m sure they also received some cultural pointers about Americans (and that we don’t appreciate being called “Yovo.”)
Wednesday: We loaded the bus and headed to post! Me, my homologue, and my friend Shannon and her homologue were on the same bus going north. Shannon lives just north of me on the paved road about an hour in Bassila, a bigger town. After 8 hours I arrived at chez moi (my house). Not going to lie, I had a bit of anxiety when I got off the bus and looked around at my new surroundings; it was a lot to take in. The main paved road runs right through my village which I thought was weird but there are maybe 10 cars that pass by every day, so its not really a busy stretch of highway; there are also loads of speed bumps so people go reallllly slow through town. As my homologue and I walked down the street toward chez moi, I felt the many eyes of the Mamas, kids, and the people hangin out under the mango trees watch my every step. Being the first “blanche” means that my every action will be known throughout the village; I haven’t decided if this is a good or bad thing yet J. I guess you could say I have celebrity status there…
I was greeted by what seemed like 100 people in front of my house, as well as the Chef du Village which is the main “boss” of Prekete. The Chef is a really nice man who also doesn’t speak much French but kept saying “Je suis très content” (I am so happy), which made me very happy to hear his excitement. I have never felt so welcomed before in such a new place. So, I was immediately sat down in my “living room” and given a bowl of water, from which I took a “fake sip” in fear of amoebas and passed it on to the next person. I sat on one side and my homologue, Chef, my “translator,” the “security guy,” and my backup homologue sat across from me on a bench. We exchanged a few words and then kinda just stared at eachother. Luckily, sitting in silence for the Beninese is actually a pastime and isn’t all that awkward.
I got a tour of my house, which took all of two minutes. I have a main living room, a bedroom, which connects to another room that leads to my “kitchen” area outside and my latrine and “shower.” Yep, no running water nor electricity for me! But I’m not really upset about it, I prepared myself for the worst possible conditions. I think my house was built especially for me which is nice cause I am the first to use my latrine, haha the things that make me smile these days are quite amusing to you all I am sure, like a clean hole in the ground. Anyway, my house is great. I have lots of lizards for roommates that live in the space between my roof and the bamboo ceiling; at least they’ll eat the cockroaches so I’m not too eager to get rid of them, except that they are quite loud when they scurry across the ceiling. The first thing I do when I move in is paint the grey cement walls! My house is in my homologue’s concession, which is very convenient. He has two wives and what seems like 20 children. They are all very nice though and respectful. I only received one marriage proposal too, and it was from some random young guy who I am assuming is related in some way. The marriage proposal thing gets a bit old but I usually just say that I have too much work to do to have a husband, which doesn’t really work so I usually resort to saying that I need a second husband to do my laundry and that scares them right away. Luckily, the men are usually harmless and are half-joking, half-serious when they say please take me to America with you.
Back to my village…on Wednesday I walked with my homologue and my 2nd and 3rd “go-to guys” to meet the Gendarme (military), the Police, and a few other important people in my village. We walked to Togo, yes, I said walked, to meet the Police and explain why a white girl was moving to their village and to keep an eye on me; that is the basic conversation we had with all the armed forces. Being escorted around by 3 funny little guys was quite a cite; I felt a bit like their prized possession that they were showing off. I went back to my house and had my first lesson in Lokpa where I learned to say hello, bonjour, yada-yada-yada… after that I was allowed to eat yummy pate (sarcasm) and pass out.
Thursday: The early bird catches the worm, and by bird I mean rooster, and by rooster I actually mean about 20 roosters. Basically, it is nearly impossible to sleep past 5:45 here because the cocka-doodle-doos do not shut-up. So around 7, I jumped on the moto with my homologue and we went to visit a few of the quartiers (mud-hut neighborhoods) that make-up Prekete. We took a back road out into the countryside, which is so beautiful. It was kinda foggy and a little chilly as we passed through the jungley, green countryside; there are some crops out there like peanuts, soy, corn, and tomatoes. It was awesome to meet the “village people” too and see the way people outside of Porto-Novo and the city live. The main thing I learned is that my French will be pretty useless in village, unfortunately. We went up to Bassila and met people in the Mayor’s office, the Gendarmerie national, and the Police up there too. Basically, I have met every major security officer within a 30 mile radius of Prekete. After getting back I got to rest for a bit with some Mamas, who were peeling sesame seeds under a tree, while my homologue went and prayed. Sidenote: Most of my town is Muslim, which means they pray about 5 times a day and right now is also the time they fast during the day because of Ramadan. So, every time I was taken to eat, I was the only one who ate. They can eat and drink from 7 pm to 5:30 am. Anyway, I felt a bit like a torturer when I was eating in front of them. Luckily, Ramadan is next Friday so the fasting will be over when I move to village.
Friday: We visited the rest of the quartiers, the Health Center, and the Director of the School. In the afternoon we had a public meeting. Let me explain what happened at this meeting… So, my homologue had been telling me about this “passé publique” that was going to take place on Friday and how all of the villagers were invited to meet me and tell me about their work. I was already nervous because I didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about why I am there. I was led into this gazebo-type building where all the major people from the village were sitting and the others were standing around the outside; there were about 100 or so people there. I sat next to my “translator guy” who speaks French and a little English; he translated from Lokpa to “Franglais” for me. Basically, my homologue began by telling the people about Peace Corps and then went on to say things like “she isn’t here to marry anyone and saying I love you is not polite to her,” “she doesn’t smoke so don’t offer her cigarettes,” “she doesn’t do drugs either,” “she always has to wear her moto helmet,” “if kids are rude to her she can punish them…” it took all my strength not to laugh when I had all this translated to me. Then he went on to ask practical questions like “if she is sick, who will take her to the hospital?” and someone answered that the Chef has a car; he also asked who will take me to Bassila if I need to go since there aren’t any taxis or zems in my village and someone else spoke up. It was pretty cool to see how everyone was really serious about how they were going to make sure I could get to where I needed to be. For the next part of the meeting we went through each quartier and they described the type of work they do. This gave me a great idea of the projects I can work on too, which mainly includes reforestation stuff and gardening since most people there are farmers.
I could go on forever trying to explain what I went through last week but there is no way I can tell you all everything. The best thing about post visit was that when I left, all I wanted to do was go back. This Monday, we had a processing session and after hearing about some other people’s post visit, my sounds like heaven. Just a week and half longer and I’ll be an actual volunteer! This whole training process has been the hardest 8 weeks I have endured in quite a while or perhaps ever.
Well, thanks for making it to the end of this very long post; I will try to update y’all as much as I can but I don’t have Internet very close to me so my posts may be just once or twice a month. I do have phone service so give me a call! (229-97-79-49-76).
Hope all is well la-bas (“over there,” a common reference to the US by Beninese people). Miss you all very much. A la prochain! (The next time!)
