Recent Photos

Our house! It's on the second of three stories. Our front door opens onto a porch which look out over the tin roofs and trees of the neighborhood. There is also an AMAZING breeze.

Behind the little chair is a bathroom (why do we need a bathroom on the porch? I haven't found out yet). To the right, through the first set of doors, is the livingroom. The second door leads to a hallway which is open to theo utside on both ends and lends itself to a very breezy home, which we love!

The double doors from the porch to the livingroom.

The livingroom, which we haven't figured out how to use yet except for laying on matresses and watching movies on the ceiling (see below).

The hallway from the porch. On the right are Sarah's bedroom, a guest bedroom, then my bedroom. Each has a ceiling fan and own bathroom with toilet and shower!! On the right are doors to the livingroom and kitchen. The floors are difficult to keep clean but are so pretty we don't care.

Guest bedroom/storage space.

Kitchen with sink!! Real coffee happens here every morning!!!

Our glorious kitchen, where we cook delicious meals centered around tomatoes and bread.

The view from the window above the sink.

Sarah's room.

My room: the whole family is here and I wake up to their smiling faces every day!

My bathroom. I'm actually smiling as I type this. Remember what my latrine looked like? Look at this place! There's a sink and a shower and a toilet and I actually feel clean when I bathe here!

My bedroom. The red design I made by taping pieces of cut-out paper to the wall. Under that is a shelf unit that I keep covered in a pagne. I made the picture collage on the wall with photos of family and friends from home. I love my little room. Still working on the bed situation- getting a double mattress from a friend and then buying a bigger frame.

Mantisfriend. He just landed on the porch one night while we were watching a movie, hung around for 1/2 hour then ook off. I wish he'd taken the ants with him...

Rich brought his projector over and we dragged matresses into the livingroom and watched "Up" on the ceiling. What a great movie! I felt that some of the themes were inappropriate for a young audience, however. They probably shouldn't have spent so much time foreshadowing the wife's death at the beginning. Incredibly sad. I'm still going through the grieving proces.

And... exhale.

At the ambassador's house for PSL 23's Swear-In ceremony!

Buying tissue at the marche. (I went with the one on the left. Her right. Our left).

You must pick only one! Choose wisely!

Independence Day: August 1, 2010. Benin's 50th Anniversary. Everyone and their mother was fete-ing!

A nighttime parade outside the restaurant we went to. No one threw candy but they sure did make a lot of noise...

Painting a mural in Tchaada. This one was about how to make your own oral-rehydration solution for treating severe diarrhea. We painted it on a paillote at the high school in Louie's village. Wish I had pics of the finished product: we did ones for malaria and AIDS prevention too!

At a Yoruba wedding in Sakete, about two hours north of Cotonou, pictured here with the bride. It was a lovely fete. I now have a keychain with her and her husband's faces on it.

October 2010

Well hello again. Been awhile...
I'm now living in cotonou. Sarah and I finally got a home, thus ending my month of living in the bureau. We moved into our second story apartment in the quartier of "Gbegamey." It's a Muslim neighborhood so I've gotten used to waking up to the sounds of praying coming from the mosque and prayer canters. There are cafeterias everywhere, people are friendly, and it's within walking distance from the PC bureau. It's also within walking distance of CARE International, where I now work every day fom 8-noon.
I lovme CARE so far. I officially started last week and work in conction with Paulin Davodoun, an MPH/MD they hired to consult for a new maternal and child health program. It looks like I'll be serving in a research-assistant capacity as we write a new 15-year plan for CARE's health program. Right now I'm assessing the current maternal and child health situations in Benin, compiling statistics to write the basis/justification for the project. In the next couple of weeks I'll start mapping all the projects currently being carried out in Benin by other major and international NGOs, UNICEF, World Bank, etc. and exploring opportunities for partnership. This will also allow us to target areas where there is currently a lack of intervention. Dr. Paulin really seems to have it together and I'm pretty sure he could easily carry this project on his own, but I'm trying to make myself useful and assist him as it is a major undertaking. The most exciting part for me will be writing and carrying out an "enquette," or large scale survey in village to further assess the current child and maternal health situation. This will help to identify both barriers to adequate care and possibilities for improvement. Also, it will get me back into the village scene, which I miss a lot.
So there's a brief update. I spend early afternoons working out (joined a gym!!) and late afternoons at the bureau assisting Geraldine with sorting mail, organizing things, informing the general services assistant, Madelon, of needed repairs and supplies, ordering things, etc. It's just a hodgepodge of random responsibilities that I try to do as they arise... and now that I'm thinking of it, the monthly report is due Monday...
Thigns have quieted down a lot since PSL 21, the stage from the year before us, have returned home to America and the new PSL , 23, are now spending their first couple of weeks at their posts. I've had time to get settled in our house and it's amazing. Sarah and I cook sometimes and other times we go out to eat. Having running water and toilets (!!) is amazing. Life is so much easier in terms of maintenance, but much busier time-wise. I like the anonymity of living in a city, but then, all transactions and greetings are less personal. I miss the community of village. I love belonging to a gym. I miss the lush greenery of the foliage in village. I love the view from the roof on the 4th floor of our building. I miss our little marche every night in village. I love being able to go to a supermarket to buy cheese and wine (though I can't afford to do this very often). I miss my old neighbors and the sense of community in Djigbe. I love meeting people from all over the world in Cotonou. There are pluses and minuses to living in any sized community, and I was very happy in village, but I'm also very happy now (due in no small part to the fact that we make real coffee every morning and eat oatmeal with apples and walnuts on our front porch), Life is good.

Merrr

One of my favorite girls and I at Camp GLOW.
Onew of the girls presenting our Camp director, Angelina, with flowers on the last day.

Let your light shine!

I seem to be rapidly losing any remaining large motor skills I may have arrived with. I can't even walk down the street without hurting myself. Case in point: the other night I was out with some friends. I went to the bathroom ("bathroom") and on my way back to the table, suddenly found myself face down on the floor. Without warning, a stair had popped up and tripped me. I don't remember how I landed, but in the middle of the night I woke with a splitting headache which was so bad I vomitted. It was scary but the pressure alleviated almost entirely when I sat or stood.
The next day I went to see the PCMO. Dr. asked about what had happened, took my vitals, then checked my reflexes. Then he looked at my face for a few seconds and said "I'm treating your case as an emergency. You will be surprised how quickly things will happen now." He then sprinted- SPRINTED- into his office to make phone calls, leaving me sitting alone on the table and feeling highly disconcerted as I heard phrases like "S.O.S. med-evac" and "very serious case" wafting into the room.
"Is everything okay?" I called to the Dr. in between his frantically placed phone calls to neurologists and PC Washington. "Yes, Kara, just hold still. Stay there. This will happen very fast- you'll see." Was this supposed to reassure me? What was he talking about? I know headaches can be serious business, but emergency medical evacuation? I decided to wait and see; after all, he's the doctor.
After making whatever arrangements he thought necessary- I didn't catch all of them because he was speaking french very quickly and was in the next room- Dr. came running back into the room and reassured me that everything would happen very fast and would be fine. He then looked at my face and gingerly touched his fingertips to each side of my jawbone. "Okay. Looking at you, right now..." he hesitated. "...Are you okay? It just seems that... your face..." Dr. used his hands to indicate something askew and eyed me questioningly. It took a few seconds, but I soon realized what he meant and why he had perceived the situation as so incredible grave. As the answer dawned on me, a smile spread across my concussed face.
"Are you talking about my crooked jaw?"
"Your...?"
"Yeah. It's been like that since childhood. See?" I showed him all my pearly whites in a big, cheesy smile. Then it was Dr.'s turn for the epiphany. I watched as he realized what had happened and slowly began to laugh.
"You mean... oh! Hahahaha. Oh! Your jaw has always been like that. Okay! That is good, I feel much much better. Because, you see, I thought you had fallen and broken your face!"

Later that day, I had a CT scan and- the best part- a BENINESE EEG. Think of every sci-fi movie you've ever seen, then imagine me as the alien. It was like that.
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In other news, we just finished the annual Porto-Novo Camp GLOW- Girls Leading Our World. 49 girls came from around southern Benin and there were about 15 of we PCVs who worked the week. The schedule was rigorous- 6:30 a.m. to 10:30 p.m., but probably felt like a break to the girls, who weren't allowed to lift a finger on chores the whole week!! Each day we started with calisthenics, songs or games. All meals were catered and the PCVs took turns with dishes. During they day, we did fieldtrips to a museum and a computer center, held nutrition and reproductive health classes, discussed financial planning and held a career panel with professional women from around southern Benin. We played sports, put on skits and made crafts like bound books and collages. The goal of the camp was to encourage bright young women and girls to stay in school and finish their educations, so at the end of every day we got together in small groups and discussed how the days' lessons pertain to the importance of education. It was really fun and also really good for my french!
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Sarah B. and I didn't get the house I wrote about in the previous blog. We have looked at abouta million of them since and all have fallen through. Hoping to finalize something next week. And that's all I have to report for now!

Some of the girls singing on the bus on the way to da Silva museum in Porto-Novo
Leading calisthenics with Lindsay one morning
Making collages
Learning about HIV/AIDS prevention
Learning proper toothburshing methods
Charlie and Miranna Darr, looking out on their bright future of junk-museum ownership
A very, very old printing press
The girls at the National Assembly, where we went on a tour
Future members of congress
Outside the national assembly





Dance Party!!! We had a DJ come play all the hottest Beninese tunes
Teaching the girls about nutrition. I had them draw pictures and them come put them into fod groups and practice making complete meals
Woo! Nutrition!!
All of us at Camp GLOW: girls, PCVs, and facilitators who came for the opening. AMong them was the United States Ambassador to Benin and our Country Director, Brownie Lee, as well as a representative of the Mayor of Porto-Novo's office




A friendly visitor to the Camp

Back in Benin

Well, here I am again. I know it’s been forever since I last wrote but between the computer-crash crisis and life in general, I haven’t thought much about blogging. Since I last wrote several things have happened.
I was selected to work stage, which is the term for Pre Service Learning, the 9-week training period that takes place in country before trainees swear-in as volunteers. I was also picked to work week one, which means I’ll get to go to the airport and greet the volunteers, then spend the first week watching their initial culture shock and answering questions. I will also work week 5, and run the technical sessions on the subjects of maternal care, prenatal care, birthing, post-natal care, and immunizations. This should be interesting considering I would have been better suited for the nutrition and baby-weighing week, but I still have the information from last year and I’m going to be well prepared. I’m so excited for July 16th when they arrive! Welcome PSL 23!!
In April, I applied for the position of Peace Corps Volunteer Leader, interviewed with the administration, and was selected on the basis of the interview and PCV comments. The position of PCVL is to serve as liaison between the volunteers and the administration. I will also manage the workstation and dues fund, help with site development, and provide emotional support to volunteers. I just finished a two-day workshop in Peer Support Network training, which I really enjoyed. I found the part about active listening especially helpful, as it reminded me about my interrupting problem and reignited my motivation to work on that. : )
I resigned from my position with AFAP but am working with them until I move to Cotonou. I helped them outline a program for an Environmental Action volunteer and worked with the EA APCD to place a new volunteer with the NGO. I also helped set up an RCH site in Vakon, a village near mine, with another health NGO called Vie et Reinsertion. I went to talk to them about Peace Corps and our mission and what their roles and responsibilities will be as a host structure. I really enjoyed helping to develop these sites and hope they work out for the volunteers who will be placed in them!
The job of PCVL is technically considered part-time so I will also continue working on community projects with the Beninese. Yesterday, I interviewed for a position with CARE International, an international NGO whose Benin offices are in Cotonou but whose projects span the country. CARE works in conjunction with USAID and is in the process of expanding its projects in country. They will be hiring a consultant to expand their child and maternal health programs, as well as leadership initiatives for young women. I will be working with this consultant to come up with innovative solutions to Benin’s development needs (if it sounds like I am not entirely sure what I will be doing, that is because I am not. But I will let you know as soon as I do!) I sent the director my resume yesterday after the interview, and he responded affirmatively, so it looks like I will definitely be collaborating with CARE! I’m very excited about this change and to become involved with women’s issues.
So I’ve been trying to figure out when I’m going to move to Cotonou. Peace Corps didn’t budget for a PCVL house until FY 2011, which starts in October, but our current PCVL is just interim and already has a full-time job, so she is eager for me to come take over. And I am eager and excited to begin! The solution we came up with is for me to live with another Cotonou volunteer until then. However, I went house hunting with my friend Sarah Binder, who is going to be working here with Catholic Relief Services, and we found one that we LOVED and had to have. So we convinced PC and CRS to share the bill and if everything goes according to plan, we will be moving in July! The house has three bedrooms and two bathrooms, running water and electricity, a kitchen with counters and a sink, a little patio, and a giant tiled living room! It is on the third floor of a large building, and a French couple lives across the hall. There is a little boutique on the bottom floor where we can buy all the staples we need, and, oh! Did I mention there’s a PACIFIC OCEAN at the end of our road? Yep. You can smell the saltwater from our deck. J J J J I can’t get enough. There are a LOT of steps to the process though so we’ll see if it works out.
I’ve also been working on helping organize our annual summer camp for girls, Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World). I finished the banner, designed and ordered our awesome t-shirts, and have been helping has out the last minute details. I’m also going to present on health and nutrition during the camp. I’m planning on including a section on how vitamins and minerals found in fruits and vegetables can help the skin and hair, because what is more important when you’re 15? I’ve got to sell this info! I’m really, really excited about the camp, which is one week and aims to encourage girls to stay in school and finish their educations. The ambassador and PC Country Director are coming to the opening on Sunday. Look for pics in the next blog!
SO. That brings you up to speed on my work life. I came home for a visit last month that was everything I had hoped it would be. I already miss Iowa City, family (Grandmas especially), friends, Frisbee golf, boating, bonfires, driving and Dr. Mario. And good beer. Nicole’s wedding was beautiful and I’m glad I got to be a part of it. Iowa, you’re the shit. Keep being flat and greenish-gold, and I’ll come back to you someday.
Back in Benin… I’ll leave off with a story. Two nights ago I ate out with a couple of friends while watching the world cup (USA! USA! Good luck tomorrow!!!) and we were ready to leave to go back to the hotel where we were staying for our Peer Support Network workshop. None of the Zemidjan drivers seemed to know where we were talking about when we said the name of our hotel. I eventually just gave up and said “Camp Guezo,” the name of Benin’s military camp which happens to be located about ½ km from the hotel. After a pleasant ride, my friends Clay, Jeff and I were dismounting and searching our pockets for change when we heard two Camp Guezo guards yell “AVANCEZ! AVANCEZ!” which, given their tone, translates into “Move your asses- this is military property!” I’ve never had a problem in this area of town before- the houses are nice and finished, the roads are paved, and the gendarme (name of the type of police that use Camp Guezo) are always friendly. But apparently at night things are a little different.
Our zems waited while we looked for their payment. This all happened so fast, or maybe it took forever, I don’t know- it’s a blur and it was night, but all of a sudden, a guard was running across the road. One zem gunned it and got away, but the one who had driven me wasn’t as lucky. The gendarme grabbed the back of the motorcycle, pulled it up onto the sidewalk, and proceeded to beat the shit out of the driver. Yelling things like “What were you thinking!?” the gendarme began to slap and punch the zem driver around the face and head. I tried to protest, “No! We haven’t paid him yet!” but quickly realized, thanks to Jeff and Clay, if I didn’t shut the hell up that would be me instead of the driver. The gendarme guard took off his belt and used it to beat the man’s face. He used his baton and fists. These things were retold to me later, as I'd had my hands over my face and was pacing in circles a couple of meters away, listening to the horrible sounds of bones on flesh. I heard the man’s glasses break and his moto tip over. What seems like minutes but was probably seconds later, the gendarme marched back to his post at the gates of Camp Guezo, my zem stumbled to his feet and got back onto his bike. I ran over and pressed a ten mille bill (about $25) into his hand, whispering “Merci.” He drove off and we walked back to the hotel, me screaming “I HATE BENIN” and not being sure what to make of the situation. Why had this happened? Why didn’t the zems move when the gendarmes told them to? Because they needed their payment from us, however minute (less than a dollars’ worth). Why had the gendarme reacted so violently? Because consequence has to be immediate here. You don’t give tickets and collect fines later. You don’t yell and you don’t go easy because that doesn’t make an impact. The only way to keep order is by swift action and brute force. I’ll remember that next time I need to go somewhere near the camp at night. I’m still kind of traumatized.
Okay, so my storytelling is rusty. I’ll work on that. I’ve been making a list of things to tell you all about, so look for more as the housing situation gets finalized, the new PSL arrives, and Benin keeps... Beninning.

Pictures Say It Better

A mother in Hondji feeding her two year old boy the soy and moringa sauce we taught her to prepare. We are tracking his health and are soon going to open another nutritional recuperation center in Hondji, near where I live.
I took this pic in my house. We were burning coals for the hooka and they looked pretty, and then I heard about the winter storms there so this pic is for you, Iowa.
Angele and I in the tissue I got us. We are going to wear it to Azolwisse on Valentine's Day.
Erika, Hannah, Kim, Me, Doug, Jennifer and Laura at Hotel Capitale during stage. I promise, you guys... I work too, I just don't take as many pictures of it.
Sometimes, when we all get together, photo shoots happen. I am rather fond of this one of Jeff and Jackie.
The hospital in Tchaada where Lou works. This is the inpatient room, which is quite nice by Beninese standards. The matresses are intact and there are even mostuito nets!
A desk in the hallway with health cards, which are individuals' health files. Each baby gets one when they are born and nurses and sage-femmes use them to keep track of immunizations, clinic visits, etc.
This is the birthing room. The blue handles are for the women to hold on to and the table is where the baby is cleaned afterward. Part of our job is to facilitate the commencement of nursing, something that is rarely done immediately after birthing in Benin.

The daughter of a woman who cooked for Lou and I when I was visiting Tchaada. They have to put on lots of powder to counter the heat and moisture, and I caught her expression right after her "dusting."
Ivy's birthday/ Rich's housewarming party in Ketou, in the plateau region. I played "Happy Birthday" to Ivy on the amazingly fabulous hot-pink recorder from Lyndi. Woo!
Scott, in the Iowa City shirt he got when we were t-shirt shopping in Cotonou.
Twins!!!!!
UPDATE! After one month in nutritional recuperation in Game, Sunday is doing much better. He had gained weight, and as you can see his muscles are starting to develop. He smiled and clapped right after I snapped this photo.
A one-room thatch primary school in Sakete where our NGO is hoping to build a more solid structure with a grant from the American ambassador.
Me with several AFAP employees in a Cacao grove owned by the Chief of the Arrondissement of Aguidi.
Marc combing my hair in my livingroom.
A family home in the village of Bembe. All the houses are built on stilts because of the water level near the river durign rainy season. This village is near mine and is within walking distance. It's beautiful!

The things that are difficult about maintaining this blog are a) conjuring the self-importance necessary to believe that my ramblings actually matter to people other than me and b) the limited medium of digital photographs and words. I want so badly for you to be able to smell the tropical and sometimes exhaust-clogged air, see the round, dewey greenness of the bulbous papayas, hear the bouncy intonations of the various local languages, taste the spicy couscous and fresh hibiscus juice… I could continue to add up the sensations for you but it wouldn’t amount to the feeling of being here. I can’t give you the first impressions, the fears, the miniscule day-to-day triumphs, firsthand. I’m not even sure if you’d want them. I’m not always sure I do.
There is nothing I can say or do to change the fact that you are going to interpret from an American perspective all of the information that I present. This is limiting only if you want to be Beninese- not really a problem. Enojy the pics, read this if you want… take it at face value. The balance gets trickier once you live here. After six and a half months (yes, I want credit for that half month, damnit!), I’m finding that Peace Corps Volunteers are faced with a fundamental problem of perspective, and it’s not something they warn us about during stage.
Here it is: I said before that having American filters is a problem only if you want to be Beninese. I live in Benin. I work for a program that pushes integration- hard. I am supposed to want to be as Beninese as possible. If If a PCV isn’t “bien integre,” they are missing what is essentially the main point of Peace Corps: we are cultural ambassadors, here to teach and learn from Host Country Nationals (HCNs in PC terms) within the context of the HC culture. In our excitement, as we learn local languages and dress in Nigerian cotton modeles and learn to cook akassa with sauce des legumes, we are filled with pride at our successful integration into Beninese culture. Can you feel the approaching “but”?
BUT: a) we’ll never really be integrated because we’re white and American and b) being really, truly, fully integrated would mean almost necessarily that one would lose his American filters. I’ve stopped noticing a lot of everyday things that are just “wrong,” in American context. They begin to fade, as the background noise of life tends to do no matter where one is. In order to be successful in a place entirely unlike your own, you have to do a serious amount of adapting, and in the process you lose some of who you were. This happens when you realize you don’t have the emotional energy to continue regarding things as “wrong” or “bad,” because the thought of having to do so a) usually obliges one to act, and one can’t act on everything one regards as “bad” or “wrong” in a place that’s entirely new, and b) makes 26 months seems like an impossibly long period of time.
So, you start regarding things as “different” instead of “bad.” That’s good. That’s much easier. That’s what they teach us in elementary school: different does not equal bad. So you let go of a lot of that moral judgment as you spend time in your new country and realize that the current micro-systems are more or less working for people and that they are more or less resistant to change. But noticing things that are different takes a lot of energy, too. This is one reason why people are so exhausted after a long vacation: taking it all in is fun and refreshing, but the process of mentally filing every new stimulus, worldly though it may make you, is tedious and exhausting. A person must either assimilate or wear herself out.
PCVs assimilate. Peace Corps selects us based largely on their determination of our ability to do this upon arrival in the Host Country (HC) and once here, we are bombarded by trainers telling us to integrate, integrate, integrate! As if we had any other choice. But here’s the catch: as your American filters begin to fade and are automatically replaced with Beninese filters, it becomes harder and harder to effect change. It’s easy to have high hopes and ambitions upon arrival, only to have them quickly dashed by the sight of people sleeping the afternoons away, owning domestiques and swindling their NGOs. You assimilate to these things, too, after all your questions are answered “That’s Benin,” or “That’s just the way it is.” It is natural for us to want to be like those around us; we’re social animals. Monkey see, monkey do.
So you do what you can to jive with the environment and your neighbors, passing the days and finding your routine until it becomes the new norm. Then you occasionally look in the mirror to see a card-carrying PETA member who barely bats an eye at the fifteen pigs strapped to the top of the bus or the dozens of chickens with their feet tied together; a bleeding-heart liberal Michael Moore-loving self-proclaimed environmentalist who wants nothing more than to live in a ludicrously climate-controlled house, label herself a moderate (gasp!) and wave her American flag cause that’s right, America IS the best damn country in the world and I have the PROOF; a rural community health volunteer who’s charged with nutritionally recuperating malnourished children but suspects that homo sapiens owe the planet their own voluntary extinction in exchange for the chance we blew.
It’s times like this I ask myself how far I am willing to go. How much of me will I be able to get back? How much am I sacrificing by staying here? Is it my job to create the desire for change? For whom, exactly, is “the greater good?” Am I actually hurting more than helping?
I do know one thing: my ability to make a difference here will come from my will to retain as much of my American perspective as possible while managing to fit in well enough to get some work done. There’s a fine line between integrating into a society and actively rejecting the parts of it you find “different” or “wrong.” This line is called “awareness” and it must be maintained if one is to have a successful experience here. Failing to integrate sufficiently will result in a lack of understanding and you will not be trusted or valued. Total integration will result in immersion to the point of failing to recognize your special status as someone with the organizational tools to improve the quality of life for HCNs. Learning to walk the line is my primary personal goal for successful service here. Knowing exactly where and when to draw the line, however, remains to be seen.
This awareness of awareness, then, leaves me with the option to either a) proceed forward with caution and try to maintain my original ambition and motives for being here while integrating sufficiently to function in Beninese society or b) forget about this blog entry, drink a beer with friends and surrender myself to the Now.
. . .b).