Take me to the River

Two days down in Manigri. It is definitely a different experience being away from all the other stagaires. I guess I fell into a very comfortable routine without really even realizing it. It was very easy to overlook all the benefits of being surrounded by people who speak your language. Now, well. Never have I ever felt absolutely so isolated and alone. It’s a really horrible feeling most of the time, and it makes me want to just stay in my house and cry. But, I’ve found that when I actually venture outside my own walls is when I feel the best. Today I went to the market with one of my “sisters” and it was so nice. We said hello to everyone, and I do mean everyone, as we walked to and from my house to the market. We met Papa’s younger sister who seems to be part of some women’s housing project; she was living with four other women. None of them spoke a lick of French, and I, of course, being barely able to communicate well in French, do not speak a lick of Nagot (the local language in Manigri). I did find out however that if I should ever become ill while living here, that they would like me to come to them and pay them 150 CFA, so that they can “heal” me. I said okay to be polite but was definitely thinking, “Okay. There is no chance in Hell.” But I didn’t say that because that would be the American way, and I don’t know how to say that in French anyway. Otherwise, I haven’t done too much of anything here except miss everyone a whole ton. I found out that I do not have the same wonderful cell phone coverage that I once had in Lokossa, and that to get cell phone service, I have to walk outside and stand underneath the telephone pole, and even then, the reception is still isn’t that great.
Okay. I have to pause to tell you what just happened to me. Possibly the most terrifying thing in the world. First, let me preface this story by telling you that my house has an infestation of cockroaches and mice. They are everywhere. And, it just so happens that their favorite place in the whole house is my bedroom. And, they really like to come out at night. So, it’s almost 9:00 here, and I’m typing this journal in my bed with all the lights off. I can hear cockroaches scampering all around me, but I’m trying not to be paranoid because I know that I am safely hidden underneath my mosquito net. However, it appears that I have a hole in my mosquito net, because as I am sitting here typing I feel *plop* something lands on my knee. I, of course, flip out and scramble for the lights and find the little booger crawling up my net. I don’t really have any great, ginormous roach killing weapons in my bed with me, so I grab my alarm clock and wait to strike. Finally, *whack* I hit him. But since these are not average size cockroaches, he only falls back onto my bed completely unphased and scampers off. Now, I have no idea where he is, but can only assume that he is somewhere in my sleeping quarters. Rest assure that I will not rest until I know exactly where he ran off to. God I hate cockroaches. That was one thing that I was lucky not to have to deal with during my host family stay. They are officially vile creatures. And, I would think about fumigating my room, but that doesn’t seem like a very good idea for the lungs considering how poor the ventilation is. And, I have to sleep with ear plugs in because I can’t stand the sounds they make when they are scampering about. Ugh.
So, yes. Continuing. I am basically trying not to go crazy here. At first I was thinking that I couldn’t wait until school started because it would give me something to do. Then, today I really enjoyed having time to read and write and go to the market, and I thought that it was a good thing that I didn’t have to start right away. Now, I’m back to thinking that I need something to occupy my time. I can definitely see how hard it must be for the other sectors. With TEFL, we are set up with a great job, and we are immediately welcomed into the community because we already have a position of respect being the English teacher in the community. All the other sectors have to spend months if not their whole first year looking for projects to do. That would be horrible. Also, speaking of other sectors, my post mate who is a SED (Small Enterprise Development) girl didn’t arrive today as she was supposed to. That makes me really nervous as I have already heard rumors of her wanting to ET (early terminate). That would leave me high and dry without another Peace Corps Volunteer for quite awhile, which would really make me sad. Any chance to speak some English to someone now and again is a welcome opportunity, and I was hoping to share my first day feelings with someone. So I hope she shows up. I could use her.
Other than horrible loneliness, things here are going. My one bad story occurred from the first night when I ventured out to get some water because I didn’t have any filtered and boiled water that I could drink, and I could feel myself getting dehydrated. So, naturally, I biked down to the local buvette that I knew John frequented often during his service. I asked if they had any water and they said no (no Sprite or Coke, either, just beer). By this time it had also started to down pour as I had gotten there just in the knick of time, and the owner said that once it stopped raining, he would go down the street and get me some water. “Wow. Great.” I thought. So I sat down inside and waiting for the rain to stop. However, as I sat there, some gentleman came inside and decided to sit down next to me. I immediately got a bad vibe just because I know that Beninese men think that any single woman in a bar is a prostitute, and I, of course, being white am just some hot ticket item to be won. Regardless, I politely engage in conversation thinking that this will be a good way for me to practice my French. At first, it was very innocent, and I thought that maybe my first instinct was wrong, but then it started going sour. He started asking my how many children I had (and was floored when I said zero), whether or not I was married (a said I had a boyfriend in Gogonou, he assumed fiancé, and I went with it), then he asked why my fiancé wasn’t with me (I explained that he was working), then he started saying that he was single with kids and that he was looking for a beautiful mama like myself to take care of the kids and to be his wife. I wasn’t having any of it, so I finally got up and moved away from him thinking that this would slow down his bombardment of questions. It didn’t. Finally after waiting for the rain to stop and talking to this pathetic excuse for a man for about 30 minutes, the server returned with two big bottles of water. I paid and was about to go on my way when the man said that he wanted to shake my hand. I knew exactly what he wanted to do, and I think he felt my hesitation, because he said that it was just to say goodbye. “Fine,” I thought, “I don’t want to be the typical rude American on my first day into town.” So I went to shake his hand. At first, nothing, just strong, regular, I’ll see you around town handshake. But then as I was pulling away. Bam. There it was, just as I had suspected, he slipped me the dirty finger (The dirty finger is when I man rubs his middle finger on your palm as if to say, “I want to have sex with you”). I immediately withdrew and told him, “No. Never.” I should have made a bigger deal, a much bigger deal, about it, but I was just so shocked and offended and overwhelmed that I just wanted to get out of the buvette. I wanted to punch him in the face. And the worst part is that he knew exactly what he did because when the waitress came in, he started shaking his head as if to make sure that I wouldn’t tell her what had just happened. Ugh. When things like that happen, that’s when I wish the most that I had someone here to talk to, someone just to vent to when men are complete, disgusting pigs. Grrr.
But that’s a really bad story. Other than that, the people here have been very kind and bending over backwards to see to it that I am happy. I can tell that I will be happy here; I just know that it will take some getting used to. And maybe some cockroach killing sessions. Love you all. Me