Wow, I've been here in Benin almost an entire month! I can hardly believe it! I'm sure I'll say that almost every time :). Last week I was in Togo and wasn't able to e-mail, so I'll try to update you on the last two weeks.
Two weeks ago I had the chance to experience just a little more what the life of an African woman is like here (although really it was only a fraction of what they do). Since we didn't have any water for four days and had used up all the reserve they keep on hand, we had to go to the well to get water, something most women do here everyday. Koudjo (I finally found out the correct spelling of his name... previously I had spelled it as Kojo) and I walked the 1km or less to the well, where women were gathered, waiting their turn to pump. Two people pump at a time, turning a big cylinder, around which the rope holding the two buckets is wrapped. One bucket goes down to fetch water while the other one brings water up. It takes quite a while to bring each bucket back up full of water. The women were amazed to see me pumping water, because they had never seen a white woman pumping water! Even though the pumping was hard work, I could do. However, you should have seen me when it came time to carry the water back to the house. All the women and especially the school girls on their way to school had a great big laugh! The container I was trying to transport held 3 buckets of water from the well, so it was HEAVY! The women here carry everything on their heads. It truly is amazing to see their strength! By the time they're 7 or 8 years old, their bones in their necks have fused together and they no longer can rotate their heads to the degree I can. Back to the water... With Koudjo's help, I got the huge "bedon" on my head and started to walk. I probably lasted 20 steps when my neck and head hurt too much, so I somehow got it off my head and tried to carry it in my arms. The entire way home I had a little group of girls following me, giggling as they watched me carry it on my hips, my stomach, whatever position I could think of. One of them offered to carry it, but I felt the need to prove myself as a woman :). And I made it all the way home! But the next day we went to fetch water, we brought the wheelbarrow :).
Another thing I had the chance to witness was getting corn ground into flour. The mill is probably 2 km away, but many people need to walk much further to get there. When we arrived at the tiny one-room building, there were already many other people waiting to get their corn ground. Of course everyone gathered around to see the Yovo, not a daily occurrence at the mill...probably even a first. I stood there, surrounded by probably 7 or 8 women and double as many kids. Since I don't speak Adja and only one kids spoke French, I just did a lot of smiling. I guess that helped since the women told Koudjo that I was a friendly Yovo since I smiled so much. Koudjo told me that he explained to him that I was at the mill because I wanted to see what the African women's life was like and that I was amazed at how hard they worked. He also told them that I had pumped and carried water that morning... and they were thrilled that I was trying to experience their lives at bit. However, the two things I did that day was no where near the amount of work they do everyday. It took probably four hours of my day just to make two trips to pump water and one trip to the mill. On top of that they are preparing food, which takes quite a long time, washing clothes by hand, taking care of the children, and all the other responsibilities at home, the women also go to the fields to work the land!! The women work incredibly hard here... I truly am amazed at what they do (and how incredibly easy my life is in comparison)!
Most of this past week I spent in Togo. (By the way, I've been told that Togo didn't get much attention in the news. The president died and his son took his place even though, according to the constitution, it should have gone to the head of the parliament, with new elections being held within two months. The constitution was rewritten (a constituational coup d'etat), the head of the parliament was refused entry into the country, and soldiers opened fire on a demonstration, killing some demonstrators. The African Union imposed sanctions, the West African Union kicked Togo out. Yesterday the son finally relinquished his claimed presidency, and elections should take place within two months. There you have a very rough summary of what the situation was). Anyway, I went to Togo with the Broyles last weekend to their other home. It was neat to visit Koudjo's village and meet his family. His mother cooked Pat and Sauce with rabbit for me and sang me songs she had composed. His father, who is in his late 70s or early 80s, was shelling mounds of peanuts with his grandkids. I also really enjoyed going to the church in that village of Ountivo. At one point I had to go to the front and introduce myself. I had spent probably an hour the night before practicing four sentences in Adja!! Adja is really difficult because it is a tonal language and it doesn't sound like any words I'm accustomed to hearing. During the church service, there was a lot of singing, call and response style, accompanied with drums. There were also a couple dances, one done by the women, one by the girls, and one by the men. Since it was all in Adja, I understood absolutely nothing of the sermon that Koudjo preached...but I'm kind of getting used to not understanding :). We were in Ountivo Saturday through Monday. Since I had paid money for a week visa for Togo and that money could be applied to a year visa if I went to the Lome, the capital, it was decided that I should go ahead and go to Lome this past week to get a year visa. It was kind of exciting to have a little adventure trip. Fortunately, they sent Koudjo with me...otherwise I might still be wandering around somewhere in Togo.
We took off early Tuesday morning, starting by zemidjan (motorbike) for the first 1 1/2 or 2 hours. I wish I had pictures for you, but you'll just have to imagine as best as you can. I'll try to help you a little: Imagine 3 people squeezed on a little motorbike, me at the back, gripping the metal bars behind me so I don't fall off as we bounce along on the dirt roads. Yes, the entire stretch on zemidjan was dirt roads. As we fly through villages, people turn to stare and watch (seeing a Yovo on zemidjan is not all that common) and I hear the now common cries of "Yovo, Yovo". In one village an entire school, conducted in a building built of sticks and palm branches, got up and waved and yelled. Poor teacher, trying to conduct his lessons :). When we got to Noche, a small town, we switched to taxi. Now, remove any idea that you may have of a taxi from your brain. This taxi was a small van, probably to old to be drivable by many people's standards. When Koudjo and I piled in, we brought the number to 15. Officially, this van has two seats in the front and two rows of bench seats in the back, each meant for 3 people. A little quick math will bring the number to 8, not 15 :). Anyway, after 1 1/2 hours of taxi, this time on paved road, we ended up in Lome, Togo's capital. Thora had said that it could take three days to get the visa, but fortunately I got it Wednesday evening, the very next day. We walked ALL over Lome, seeing the Grand Market (which is absolutely humongous, people, taxis, and zemidjans crowded in every street), the beach, the university, the border with Ghana (we tried to go to Ghana with my photocopied passport, since my passport was at the visa place, but that didn't work), a bunch of administrative buildings, and a whole bunch of other stuff. I stayed at a missionary's house (and had a real shower and got to call my parents on net!!), while Koudjo stayed with his brother. Thursday morning we returned back to Benin, stopping to visit an aunt, two sisters, and Koudjo's grandma in three different towns and villages. Koudjo had not seen his grandma in over two years, and she was so ecstatic to see him. Many of the other people gathered around to watch, and the head of the village brought drinks for us.
My French, due to all my travels, has taken a little back burner this week, although I still spent a lot of time speaking French with Koudjo. Starting this next week I'm really hoping to be more diligent about studying. This week I'm also going to start learning a little Adja, at least basic greetings. Many women and also children who don't go to school do not speak French, so I need to learn at least some. But like I've said before, my ears have a real hard to hearing it and retaining it. I've learned to read the Adja alphabet, so maybe now I will have an easier time writing down what I'm hearing. However, it's hard to first of all hear the tonal inflections, much less write them down. I did go to the center of Aplahoue (the village/town I'm living in at the moment) to try to strike up some conversations. I ended up talking with a group of men who gather everyday to play "domino" (not like the American dominos; it's actually the game I know as mancala). I was able to use some of the questions I had learned in French lessons. Of course, there was also a lot they said that I didn't understand. However, I did understand that they were trying to marry me off to one of the guys... which has become quite the common occurrence. On the way home from my outing to intentionally practice my French, I encountered a group of kids coming home from school. At first it was fine; I was trying out my French and enjoying talking with them. Soon, however, I realized that they weren't going to leave me alone. They wanted me to give them money and show them my house, which I had already explained to them I was only a visitor so I couldn't. Fortunately, Koku had just arrived home from school, so I asked his help. After probably 5 minutes of craziness, he finally chased them off with a stick. So, my first attempt at practicing my French turned a little sour with that entourage of children. I was advised not to talk with groups of kids. So, who do I talk with??
Supposedly I should be able to move across the road this next week. The owner came by last weekend and explained what he had done with his place for me. He added running water and a toilet into his house! He wasn't going to let a white woman live in a place without it. I will rent one room from him that has a separate entrance. However, there is also a door from this room that connects it to his to rooms so I can use the bathroom. Whenever he is in town (one or two days every 3 weeks or so) I'll stay with the Broyles. At this point I'm only planning on staying there for the next month, when I'm hoping to find a place in Azove, the town that is 4 km away, 4 km closer to the clinic. Although I'm excited to have my own space again and probably a lot more time to really study, I'm sure it will be a little bit of an adjustment. Fortunately, the Broyles and Koudjo, as well as my French tutor Koku and his brother Jules, will all be just across the street and I'm sure I'll see them a few times a day. Really, I think this slow transition time has been perfect. If I do move to Azove in a month, I'll feel even more comfortable here.
Well, I have to stop. The Broyles and Koudjo are leaving for Togo with the computer (so please excuse any mistakes since I don't even have time to proofread this). That means I'll have a few days to fend completely for myself. I better start getting used to it. There is still so much I could tell, but this at least gives you glimpses of my last two weeks. I think of you often and miss you much. Your Yovo
Two weeks ago I had the chance to experience just a little more what the life of an African woman is like here (although really it was only a fraction of what they do). Since we didn't have any water for four days and had used up all the reserve they keep on hand, we had to go to the well to get water, something most women do here everyday. Koudjo (I finally found out the correct spelling of his name... previously I had spelled it as Kojo) and I walked the 1km or less to the well, where women were gathered, waiting their turn to pump. Two people pump at a time, turning a big cylinder, around which the rope holding the two buckets is wrapped. One bucket goes down to fetch water while the other one brings water up. It takes quite a while to bring each bucket back up full of water. The women were amazed to see me pumping water, because they had never seen a white woman pumping water! Even though the pumping was hard work, I could do. However, you should have seen me when it came time to carry the water back to the house. All the women and especially the school girls on their way to school had a great big laugh! The container I was trying to transport held 3 buckets of water from the well, so it was HEAVY! The women here carry everything on their heads. It truly is amazing to see their strength! By the time they're 7 or 8 years old, their bones in their necks have fused together and they no longer can rotate their heads to the degree I can. Back to the water... With Koudjo's help, I got the huge "bedon" on my head and started to walk. I probably lasted 20 steps when my neck and head hurt too much, so I somehow got it off my head and tried to carry it in my arms. The entire way home I had a little group of girls following me, giggling as they watched me carry it on my hips, my stomach, whatever position I could think of. One of them offered to carry it, but I felt the need to prove myself as a woman :). And I made it all the way home! But the next day we went to fetch water, we brought the wheelbarrow :).
Another thing I had the chance to witness was getting corn ground into flour. The mill is probably 2 km away, but many people need to walk much further to get there. When we arrived at the tiny one-room building, there were already many other people waiting to get their corn ground. Of course everyone gathered around to see the Yovo, not a daily occurrence at the mill...probably even a first. I stood there, surrounded by probably 7 or 8 women and double as many kids. Since I don't speak Adja and only one kids spoke French, I just did a lot of smiling. I guess that helped since the women told Koudjo that I was a friendly Yovo since I smiled so much. Koudjo told me that he explained to him that I was at the mill because I wanted to see what the African women's life was like and that I was amazed at how hard they worked. He also told them that I had pumped and carried water that morning... and they were thrilled that I was trying to experience their lives at bit. However, the two things I did that day was no where near the amount of work they do everyday. It took probably four hours of my day just to make two trips to pump water and one trip to the mill. On top of that they are preparing food, which takes quite a long time, washing clothes by hand, taking care of the children, and all the other responsibilities at home, the women also go to the fields to work the land!! The women work incredibly hard here... I truly am amazed at what they do (and how incredibly easy my life is in comparison)!
Most of this past week I spent in Togo. (By the way, I've been told that Togo didn't get much attention in the news. The president died and his son took his place even though, according to the constitution, it should have gone to the head of the parliament, with new elections being held within two months. The constitution was rewritten (a constituational coup d'etat), the head of the parliament was refused entry into the country, and soldiers opened fire on a demonstration, killing some demonstrators. The African Union imposed sanctions, the West African Union kicked Togo out. Yesterday the son finally relinquished his claimed presidency, and elections should take place within two months. There you have a very rough summary of what the situation was). Anyway, I went to Togo with the Broyles last weekend to their other home. It was neat to visit Koudjo's village and meet his family. His mother cooked Pat and Sauce with rabbit for me and sang me songs she had composed. His father, who is in his late 70s or early 80s, was shelling mounds of peanuts with his grandkids. I also really enjoyed going to the church in that village of Ountivo. At one point I had to go to the front and introduce myself. I had spent probably an hour the night before practicing four sentences in Adja!! Adja is really difficult because it is a tonal language and it doesn't sound like any words I'm accustomed to hearing. During the church service, there was a lot of singing, call and response style, accompanied with drums. There were also a couple dances, one done by the women, one by the girls, and one by the men. Since it was all in Adja, I understood absolutely nothing of the sermon that Koudjo preached...but I'm kind of getting used to not understanding :). We were in Ountivo Saturday through Monday. Since I had paid money for a week visa for Togo and that money could be applied to a year visa if I went to the Lome, the capital, it was decided that I should go ahead and go to Lome this past week to get a year visa. It was kind of exciting to have a little adventure trip. Fortunately, they sent Koudjo with me...otherwise I might still be wandering around somewhere in Togo.
We took off early Tuesday morning, starting by zemidjan (motorbike) for the first 1 1/2 or 2 hours. I wish I had pictures for you, but you'll just have to imagine as best as you can. I'll try to help you a little: Imagine 3 people squeezed on a little motorbike, me at the back, gripping the metal bars behind me so I don't fall off as we bounce along on the dirt roads. Yes, the entire stretch on zemidjan was dirt roads. As we fly through villages, people turn to stare and watch (seeing a Yovo on zemidjan is not all that common) and I hear the now common cries of "Yovo, Yovo". In one village an entire school, conducted in a building built of sticks and palm branches, got up and waved and yelled. Poor teacher, trying to conduct his lessons :). When we got to Noche, a small town, we switched to taxi. Now, remove any idea that you may have of a taxi from your brain. This taxi was a small van, probably to old to be drivable by many people's standards. When Koudjo and I piled in, we brought the number to 15. Officially, this van has two seats in the front and two rows of bench seats in the back, each meant for 3 people. A little quick math will bring the number to 8, not 15 :). Anyway, after 1 1/2 hours of taxi, this time on paved road, we ended up in Lome, Togo's capital. Thora had said that it could take three days to get the visa, but fortunately I got it Wednesday evening, the very next day. We walked ALL over Lome, seeing the Grand Market (which is absolutely humongous, people, taxis, and zemidjans crowded in every street), the beach, the university, the border with Ghana (we tried to go to Ghana with my photocopied passport, since my passport was at the visa place, but that didn't work), a bunch of administrative buildings, and a whole bunch of other stuff. I stayed at a missionary's house (and had a real shower and got to call my parents on net!!), while Koudjo stayed with his brother. Thursday morning we returned back to Benin, stopping to visit an aunt, two sisters, and Koudjo's grandma in three different towns and villages. Koudjo had not seen his grandma in over two years, and she was so ecstatic to see him. Many of the other people gathered around to watch, and the head of the village brought drinks for us.
My French, due to all my travels, has taken a little back burner this week, although I still spent a lot of time speaking French with Koudjo. Starting this next week I'm really hoping to be more diligent about studying. This week I'm also going to start learning a little Adja, at least basic greetings. Many women and also children who don't go to school do not speak French, so I need to learn at least some. But like I've said before, my ears have a real hard to hearing it and retaining it. I've learned to read the Adja alphabet, so maybe now I will have an easier time writing down what I'm hearing. However, it's hard to first of all hear the tonal inflections, much less write them down. I did go to the center of Aplahoue (the village/town I'm living in at the moment) to try to strike up some conversations. I ended up talking with a group of men who gather everyday to play "domino" (not like the American dominos; it's actually the game I know as mancala). I was able to use some of the questions I had learned in French lessons. Of course, there was also a lot they said that I didn't understand. However, I did understand that they were trying to marry me off to one of the guys... which has become quite the common occurrence. On the way home from my outing to intentionally practice my French, I encountered a group of kids coming home from school. At first it was fine; I was trying out my French and enjoying talking with them. Soon, however, I realized that they weren't going to leave me alone. They wanted me to give them money and show them my house, which I had already explained to them I was only a visitor so I couldn't. Fortunately, Koku had just arrived home from school, so I asked his help. After probably 5 minutes of craziness, he finally chased them off with a stick. So, my first attempt at practicing my French turned a little sour with that entourage of children. I was advised not to talk with groups of kids. So, who do I talk with??
Supposedly I should be able to move across the road this next week. The owner came by last weekend and explained what he had done with his place for me. He added running water and a toilet into his house! He wasn't going to let a white woman live in a place without it. I will rent one room from him that has a separate entrance. However, there is also a door from this room that connects it to his to rooms so I can use the bathroom. Whenever he is in town (one or two days every 3 weeks or so) I'll stay with the Broyles. At this point I'm only planning on staying there for the next month, when I'm hoping to find a place in Azove, the town that is 4 km away, 4 km closer to the clinic. Although I'm excited to have my own space again and probably a lot more time to really study, I'm sure it will be a little bit of an adjustment. Fortunately, the Broyles and Koudjo, as well as my French tutor Koku and his brother Jules, will all be just across the street and I'm sure I'll see them a few times a day. Really, I think this slow transition time has been perfect. If I do move to Azove in a month, I'll feel even more comfortable here.
Well, I have to stop. The Broyles and Koudjo are leaving for Togo with the computer (so please excuse any mistakes since I don't even have time to proofread this). That means I'll have a few days to fend completely for myself. I better start getting used to it. There is still so much I could tell, but this at least gives you glimpses of my last two weeks. I think of you often and miss you much. Your Yovo
posted by The Sodjis | 2:00 PM
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