Northbound 35

One week down in Manigri! One long, long week down in Manigri. Where to even begin telling the events that have passed in this last week. I guess I’ll start at the beginning of things (that’s usually a good place to begin) and then go from there. The first great thing that happened was that on Tuesday Emma (my postmate in Bassila) arrived. My director (the director of my school, and the man who is essentially held responsible by Peace Corps for my well being) came over to report that she had arrived and because he knew that I was really anticipating her arrival, he brought a zemidjan with him and put me on a zemidjan right away and zipped me off to Bassila. The ride, by the way, from Manigri to Bassila is a gorgeous forest path that really gives you your “African moment.” I hope that I don’t ever get bored of that view. Anyway, when I arrived, Emma was actually out at the market, so I had to wait a little bit, and then I could only spend about an hour with her after she arrived as I had to hurry back because I thought that my new metal doors would be arriving that night. Regardless, it was a much needed hour of seeing a familiar face and speaking English! That night we made plans to meet up the next day to go to Bassila big market and to cook spaghetti Wednesday night. Also, earlier in the week, I had made plans with my homologue (my counterpart…I help him, he helps me) to have French tutoring on Thursday and Saturday. By Tuesday night, I was so thrilled to have plans that I wrote stuff on the calendar just because I could. Who would have thunk it that I would be so excited to have plans! Before Peace Corps I had never worn a watch, and I lived day-by-day, not really caring what the plan was for the next day. Peace Corps is turning me into a “Type A” personality! I’d better be careful. Anyway, I digress, as usual. Wednesday was great and tackling the market is always so fun. I bought some corn flour among other small things, so that I could make some pancakes in the upcoming mornings. Which I did, by the way, and they were delicious, ah thank you. Emma and I made spaghetti that night, too, and it was so good. I’m really starting to eat pretty well here. Emma is a great cook, and we’ve had fun figuring out recipes. So far, spaghetti, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, biscuits with eggs (all of course adapted a bit with the availabilty of items in Benin). It’s fun to go through the cookbook that they gave us and discover all the things that you can actually cook here. I will, however, be curious to see how much meat I eat in the next two years. Emma is a vegetarian, and I have to be honest when I say that eating the meat here doesn’t interest me too much. You can certainly get it, but you have to cook it so thoroughly that by the time it’s actually edible, you are looking at one tough and chewy hunk of meat. Yum. On Thursday I had my tutoring and spent most of the rest of that day rediscovering the fact that I can actually read books. I finished Kurt Vonnegut’s last book, and I started The Catcher in the Rye as it is one of the “classics” that I never did read. I did a lot of staring at the wall that day, too. I try to get out as much as I can, but it so easy to be recluse here. I must be careful that I don’t fall into a huge mind slump because of that. Friday, I went to the market again in Manigri, didn’t buy anything, though I wish now that I had bought more oranges. I love oranges. My sister and I did go ask the guy about my doors though as they had still not arrived. He promised to bring them by later that day, which he did. However, I assumed that that meant that he would also install them. Not the case. He literally just dropped them off, so now I have three doors just chilling in my house. They should be installed on Tuesday. Should be. On Saturday I had tutoring again, and I actually decided that it would be fun to stay the night in Bassila, so after tutoring I pedaled to Bassila and spent the rest of the afternoon there. In fact, I’m just fresh back from my voyage there. I’m very sweaty. On the pervious note, of French tutoring, I can tell that learning French is going to be really difficult. I’m not really vibing with my new French tutor, and I can tell that a lot of the work is going to need to be done on my own, and I also find it frustrating that even when I make an effort to go outside, everyone is speaking the local language and my opportunities to speak French are very limited, if any. I will need to put forth a lot of effort. Enough of my little uninteresting schedule though. Here are my “big” observations so far.
*You may need to take a mental break here…I’m a little long-winded today*
First, Emma is great, and I am so glad that she is my postmate. She and I have a strange number of things in common, and if she can stick it out with me, I know that we will have some good times together. Her story is pretty interesting, too. After college, she moved to Cambodia and spent a year living there on her own, working in a health clinic. I hope I got that right. Now I can’t remember. Anyway, when she moved back, she decided that she need a little bit of a break, so she has spent the last three years living in a Zen Center in New York. Because of that experience, she has this amazing calming personality. She says that it was tough for her at first because meeting everyone was such a change and overwhelming experience coming from a Zen Center. I can’t even imagine what that was like for her. So now, the silence, the isolation, she is much more in her environment. And yet, she is still able to connect with me as she is facing the same struggles with learning the language and dealing with the African men, etc. We are a good match. Plus, she is a great cook and she makes a really great Earl Grey tea.
Second observation. Human beings are made to adapt, but human beings are not meant to be isolated. We all need to be loved (I guess that includes all living things, too, and I can explain). It’s funny to me now that what I thought that what I would miss most about the U.S. would be a flushing toilet, a working shower, running water, and all the amenities that make life “easier.” What I really truly miss, what is really driving me crazy, is not being able to communicate with people. There something powerful to be said about feeling like you belong somewhere. That you belong to a group of people. Maybe over time I will find a way to adapt to this environment, and I will be able to have a connection with the people here, but for the moment all my “close” relationships here have been only on a very superficial level. I need language. My body can adapt to using a latrine and bucket showers alike, but so far my mind has not been able to adapt to the mental isolation. It’s undescrible really how utterly alone you can feel at times. Furthermore, why I say that all living things need to be loved is that Emma has a cat that she acquired from her family, and when it was living with it’s “African” family it was this meager-looking, scared thing. It would never approach another human. It pretty much hide in the corner all day. But, after just two days with living with Emma and being nurtured and paid attention to, the little thing is a whole new kitten. He will curl up next to you, and you should hear him purr. He’s just so happy. We all need love. I am convinced that we are meant to depend on each other for help.
Third, I have come to the slightly unfortunate conclusion that all men here are pigs. They are so arrogant and awful and pretty much anytime you talk to a man you are left with this disgusting taste in your mouth. Of course, there are exceptions, but very few so far. I can tell that this will be a very hard thing for me to adjust to during my time here. Being my idealist self, I want to believe that all people are good. That all people deserve a chance. Hell, I probably wouldn’t be in Peace Corps if I didn’t believe that. But, here, here it’s different. Men will jump into conversations of marriage and children without any transition or without even knowing you. As a woman, you are nothing to them. You are nothing but a bearer of children. I don’t think I even considered myself a feminist before coming here, but now I have such strong feelings about the subject. I hate that in all the religions here (and around the world) that women are considered “dirty.” That men are considered to be the superior sex, and that women here don’t see anything wrong with that, or that they can do anything about that. I will say that instead of just being frustrated about it all the time though, I am sure going to do my best to give these women a glimpse of what else is out there. That there are options available. That you don’t have to sleep with the teacher to do well in school. That you don’t have to answer to a man if you aren’t interested. These poor women need a voice. I hope that I can at least empower one girl to see differently by the time I leave. I definitely have an uphill battle ahead of me.
Finally, I can tell that these first few months are going to be hard. Really hard. I’m hoping that once school begins, I’ll be too busy to think about anything and that time will fly by, but for the moment there is so much time to sit and think; time just crawls by during those moments. After the first day of school, though, it’s two weeks until our VAC (Volunteer Action Committee) meeting where all the regions get together to “complain,” essentially. So I will get to see a few people then. A week after that, I travel down to Cotonou for another language interview, so I’ll get to see another few people then. And then, four weeks after that is the TEFL IST (In-Service Training). That lasts a whole week and all of TEFL gets together for that, so it will be a really fun little reunion for all of us. It’s so strange to think that I have only been apart from people for one week. It seems so much longer. At home, I go weeks without talking to my best friends (you know!), and here I am dying that I can’t talk to anyone after one week. Maybe it’s because I don’t even have the option to talk to people, maybe it’s because I just need the American interaction, maybe it’s just because I want to know how other people are doing during this stressful time, I don’t know. Whatever it is, I really miss all the other volunteers. It has been a whole new experience without them. A whole new change of pace. I know (I hope) that it will get better though. Each day is already getting a little bit better. Du courage!
I almost forgot!!! I have a new address:

Carly Loehrke
Corps de la Paix American
B.P. 45
Bassila, Benin
Afrique de l’Ouest

Last thing, living in Lokossa I had pretty good access to internet, but now my access is going to be really limited, so if you want to communicate with me, snail mail is probably going to be the best way to go from now on. I will probably check my email once a month, so still feel free to write me (and feel free to write as much as you want) but just don’t expect a quick response. The keyboards are impossible. Oh, and remember to write “Par Avion” and “Air Mail” on the letters, and say a little prayer or something to hope it arrives!