Lately

I’m starting the second week of IST. We’re staying at a hotel in Porto Novo. It’s exciting, because there are showers, but I’m slightly disappointed that SED and TEFL are being fed while RCH and EA are not. That means street food three times a day, and there isn’t much around here. But there is air conditioning. There are always ups and downs.
It’s strange to be trying to come up with something to share with you at home when new and interesting things happen everyday. I read once that the price of abundance is constant indecision (can’t remember the author. Sorry, author) and that applies here. It’s unclear to me which of these experiences would accurately portray what my life is like, or if that’s even the type of story which should take precedence. What would you like to know?
I fell down some tiled stairs in the rain the other day. Landed on my butt in front of ten people. That was fun, because the ensuing lack of shame indicated I’ve already lost most of my pride through activities like misinterpreting local language, contracting numerous parasites, pooping myself, losing keys and learning life lessons from eight year olds. It’s liberating, really, to realize how insignificant you are and that some people watching you fall on your ass is still in the lower echelons of Embarrassing Moments.
Christmas was wonderful. I spent it in Toweta getting drunk with nuns, so it had all the elements of festivity and religiosity one expects but with elements of the unexpected. For example, the nuns had choreographed hip hop dances to pop music (ask about the video when you next see me). This was not Whoopi Goldberg in Sister Act, these were real Beninese nuns in a remote village community in a very isolated setting, so when we asked them if they knew Brittany Murphy had died and one answered “Yeah, cardiac arrest. That was a few days ago…” I was rather bemused.
I spent New Year’s Eve at the host family’s in Porto Novo. We ate, watched TV, drank a little, then I got ready for bed. At midnight, as I was climbing into the sheets, my host sister exclaimed, “But the party’s starting! We’re all about to leave!” I passed out at 12:10 a.m. and left them to it. I heard all seven of them stumble back in at about six a.m. New Year’s Day at post wasn’t much different in terms of me not knowing the routine: people coming to my door all day asking, “Where’s my fete?” and holding out their open palms. I just wished them all a joyous New Year but some persisted. It’s always awkward explaining to someone who doesn’t speak French why you refuse to buy them something. All in all, the holidays went well. I gained the requisite few pounds, thanks in no small part to care packages (thanks, guys!!!) from the states.
Work is going well. I’m learning about a lot of possible funding sources at IST right now. I’m afraid that my ideas for projects are slightly different than my NGO’s. They want me to be in charge of nutritional recuperation and I want to specifically focus on gavage (force-feeding), but I think these two can be combined and tweaked to fit together nicely. I’ve spent the past couple weeks preparing a power point and report about my village which I’ll present here in a couple of days. I’ll put the report up on a separate post here in case any of you are interested in details about Djigbe.
I’m looking forward to seeing all of you in May!