Somewhere Out There

Wow! Quite a bit has happened since I last wrote…mastering this blog-thing is going to be trickier than anticipated. Anyway. We landed in Cotonou on our first night safe and sound. The flight over was long, but I had a good travel buddy, and so we mostly played games on the screens in front of us or just talked the whole time--it was nice. Let it be known that some intense games of checkers, chess, and connect four were had. After landing, it was quite a mess to get our luggage, but we did and only one bag was left behind in Paris, which, all things considered, isn’t too bad. The best part of the arrival was when we walked through a tunnel of current Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV’s) cheering us on as we herded ourselves through. (I have found that much of the Peace Corps experience is one of Hurry Up and Wait). Buses then took our luggage and ourselves to our destination where we were greeted by more PCV’s ready and willing to help us into our rooms. We quickly dropped our baggage and made our way to the dining hall where there was a short ceremony. The whole thing was fantastic and my mind was swirling the whole time just trying to take in everything--a task that is pretty much impossible.

For the next four days of our Pre-Service Training (PST) we remained pretty busy during the day either getting shots, being debriefed on cross-culture differences, a little bit of language training (along with a language interview…ahhh), or any other informational activity the Peace Corps (PC) could think of for us to do. By far the best part for me was having a walking tour of Cotonou. It was just nice to see things from the ground versus the bus that they were shuttling us back and forth with. I did feel like we were a bit of a Yovo (African word for foreigner meaning “white person) parade, which we probably were. And also, yovo is supposed to be this horribly annoying term--and maybe after two years it will be--but right now I just find it flattering. The people don’t mean it as an insult, there are just excited and curious. Plus, I figure that I have never really had a nickname and “white person” describes me about just as well as anything that I could think of, so why not? Coming in a close second for highlights of PST was the zemidjan (motorcycle) training. We learned how to call the zemi over, how to negotiate a price, and finally how to ride the bad boy (not driving, of course). It was so fun and the zemi drivers are crazy, but somehow you don’t feel that scared to ride--sort of like riding a taxi in NYC. Like, “wow, I would never do that in my car, but they must know what they’re doing.” The zemis will weave in and out of traffic and come inches from cars. It’s fantastic. Total exhilaration. While they kept of busy during the day, the nights were pretty much free for us trainees to unleash and unwind. It was a great time to get to know people better and things even became nauseatingly movie-esque (two people playing guitar with a flute while others danced around and locals hummed to the tune, others playing Frisbee in the distance, others watching and talking while sipping on a beer or enjoying a cigarette, and still others sitting on the hard cement playing cards under the lights). It had hippie written all over it. The best way to describe the first few days was like being at summer camp…in Africa.

Now I find myself living in a small village with my host family (all the other TEFL trainees are around here too). It is nice to be here, but it was strangely difficult to say goodbye for awhile to all the other trainees from other programs. Even though I had only really known them for a few days, they were there for a huge change in my life, and it is interesting how quickly one can bond with people when everyone has similar goals, similar interests, and similar backgrounds. We had a very good crew, too. A lot of dynamic personalities…lots of very funny people. At my host family‘s house, I am still enjoying the lifestyle of Peace Corps light. I have electricity, I have running water (thought it still has to be boiled), I have a shower--with tiled floor!, I have a flushing toilet!, I have a mama to cook me all my meals…I pretty much have it made. It’s quite nice. My next adventure is going to the market tomorrow with my sister to buy some tissue (fabric). That should be interesting. Also, I need to figure out how my family washes their clothes. It seems like such a simple concept, but is very difficult with the language barrier. The language barrier is a little rough--not only because I do not know much of the language, but because West African French is different from French French--the style, the accent, etc. Official language training begins tomorrow and I am excited to begin. My family is very nice, and I really look forward to being able to communicate with them better. I feel very alien right now even though they are so welcoming. Okay. Running out of power. Love Love Love.

PS--Mom I got my letter today! I was the first trainee to receive mail!!!