"It's because white people always look lost and hungry, which is usually true."

First of all, I would just like to explain to you how I got to have internet today. I took a twenty minute ride on the back of a zem, or one of the taxi-motorcycles that are the only forms of transport, piled three people deep. Then I went to one cyber cafe, whose internet was down. Then I zemmed to another internet cafe and negotiated the price of internet in French. Altogether, it probably took an hour and a half to find internet. I say that not in a bitter way, because it was kind of a hilarious adventure and I managed to find some lebanese food along the way; instead I say that as an excuse for why you I have been silent as a church mouse, and for that I am sorry and have this one excuse: I LIVE IN AFRICA NOW! And I really rather like it...

Africa is so many things, all fighting and scrambling to be the first impression on your mind: hot, then vibrant, then loud, beautiful, impossibly old, wonderfully kind, dirty, alive, practical, tired, full of growing things, skinny children, the freshest fruit, trash, laughter, moto upon moto upon taxi moto. Every moment is divided into two things: first the vision with American eyes, in which I look upon the event/person/task with unfamiliar eyes and compare it to America; and then there is the realization that of all the things I know, these capable women know how to do everything better than I (except perheps be idle or make compost). I say women because, although this society is incredibly, heart-breakingly patriarchal, while the men are off looking for second wives or driving cars, the women are running and feeding and washing this entire country.

And speaking of women, I went from being an only chid to gaining five sisters, a little brother, three darling little nieces, a princess mama, a jolly old papa, three chickens, two skeptical guard dogs, a skinny little kitten, and innumerable lizards. I’ve never been very girly, which my sister’s have picked up on, and they have taken on the task of fussing over my fluffy hair (all the more fluffy for the incessant humidity), gifting me with earrings and hair bows, and making sure all my new dresses are as kick-ass as possible. (Rest-assured this is true - every dress I’ve had made is better than the last, and this is a country that knows how to do clothes. Maybe they got that, as well as their language and their school system, from the French.) My little brother likes to boss me around in french and promenade me around the village, showing off his yovo to all his neighbors and friends. (Yovo is the term for white person, which is shouted from packs of wild children every where I go, as well as from uncles and neighbors and, occasionally, the other volunteers in various shades of irony and humor. The humor is slowly being seeped out of the term, however there is no malice - the villagers just like the novelty of white people.)

I live in the village of Misserete, which is posh in that it has electricity, and some of my comrades even have running water and televisions! Imagine coming to Africa only to watch James Bond in French! My family, with it’s gaggle of women, has a television, whose sole purpose seems to hold up the sullen photos of my family. For such an alive culture, the Beninois like to present themselves as stoic and mean in their photos, which can’t be farther from the truth as I’ve never met so many women constantly shouting laughter and jokes in a language I don’t understand. (My family, along with their scraps of French, speaks Fon and Goon. I know about 5 words in either language.) For you googlers out there, Misserete is about 10 miles outside of Porto Nove, the largest city in Benin and the place where you can find hamburgers and olive oil if you know where to go; otherwise its pate blanche and palm oil, all day everyday. (Pate blanche is kinda like grits without all the butter and salt and cheese that makes it good, and more solid.) There’s actually quite a few yovos in Misserete also, which is nice. All of the Environmental Action volunteers, like me, are in Misserete for training, so we got to school for nine hours a day and learn french, french, french, some stuff about gardening, french, and french, and then we’ll go grab a beer at the local buvette (the bar) and sit under the mango tree, gossiping and unwinding and talking about how EA volunteers are the best. 

Obviously, being two months in, there are a million other things to tell, gossip and food stories and funny language trip ups and long bus rides and always being sweaty and dirty and making vegetables with my hand, but I'm afraid there is just not enough time. But, my dearies, I'm getting the hang of it and having as many adventures as I can, all so you'll know these few things about Africa. A teut a l'huere!

FAQs

One big fat week before my big fat adventure begins! AHHHHH! And because everyone knows a little bit about the peace corps, but not a lot about Benin or what I'm doing or why I'm going or when they'll see me again or if the food is tasty, I'd like to enlighten all your wonderful selves in one fell swoop.

Q: How long will you be gone? WHAT??

A: My term of service is for 27 months. That includes three months of training in Porto Novo, the capital of the country, and two years of actual service. As for where I'll be once I begin my actual service, I have no idea. I'll be sure to fill you wonderful creatures in once I get the glorious news myself.

Q: Will you come home during your service?

A: Honestly, I have no idea. From what I've googled randomly, it is very expensive to fly to Cotonou, one of the largest cities in Benin, and the Peace Corps does not pay for weekend trips to the States for air conditioning and bacon cheeseburgers. They DO however fly me home for family emergencies, so you guys need to start pretending to be my cousins and maybe plan a "catastrophe" around Christmas. And I do have the option of coming home with my own money and vacation time (which I do earn!). So if you guys want to start donating to the Camille-wants-to-come-home fund, we are now accepting donations. But as of right now, I have no idea if I will a) be able to, or b) want to use my vacation time to come home or to go traveling or both, or whatever.

Q: How can I get in touch with you?

A: Oh you! I know I know, you already miss me and my wit and charm. Obviously my internet will be spotty, as bringing wi-fi to the rest of the world is kinda low down the priority list. But I do have this here blog and my Facebook (naturally). I will be sure to keep them updated on all my shenanigans. Also, once I get all settled, apparently you will be able to call my cell phone from a skype account. For the interested parties I will be happy to pass along my phone number for phone calls from the bush. And there are always letters! I'll post my address soon but I would love love love to receive some letters, especially the kind with stickers and trashy celebrity news and juicy gossip.

Q: What will you be doing?

A: Ummm... My official title will be Natural Resources Advisor in the Environment/Agriculture sector! Yay!

Q: What does that mean?

A: Ha! I'm not quite sure, and that's where that three months of training will come in. Obviously part of that will be language and cultural immersion but that also will clue me in on the environmental issues within the country, and from there I'll know what needs to be done and how I can help. From what I understand, mostly that will mean working in schools, with kids mostly, and teaching them good environmental and agricultural habits and creating a sustainable basis to grow the country towards the future. What a mouthful! Secondly through hundredly, I'll be teaching AIDS education, language training, healthy habits, progressive gender roles, et cetera, et cetera. I will definitely fill you lovelies in on all that once I get the deets as well.

Sound like I'm still not sure what exactly is going on? Yessiree! I'm flying by the seat of my quasi-français-speaking pantalons.

That's all for now my dears! Perhaps I'll follow up with a part two soon. 

Limbo

I find myself in a very strange kind of limbo these days. I have three weeks to go before I set off for Benin, and as I've (mostly) finished working, my life has taken on a very lethargic pattern: Game of Thrones, swim in the pool, lay in the hammock, drive all over the planet, google everything Benin, and read a thousand books until the next episode of Game of Thrones. I'm trying to strike a balance between Be-As-Lazy-As-Possible (since I imagine this brand of HBO and  cheez-it laziness will soon be a thing of the past) and See-Everyone-And-Do-Everything (since I'll be hard-pressed to find baseball games and picnics with my dad in the bush). I can only imagine how different my life will be once I get to Africa, and I know these cat-nap days are numbered, but my! how they are sweet.

Limbo definitely describes the doing, but also the thinking. I've definitely come to terms with the fact that it's happening, and I am looking towards it with a kind of reverence reserved for the actual and not merely the possible. This manifests itself in minor panic attacks ("How many ponytail holders should I bring? Is fifty too many?! What about BOBBY PINS??") to a small stockpile of toothpaste and granola bars. My mom jumped on the bandwagon today by being uncharacteristically worried about the durability of my hairbrush.

I suspect I'll have to store these moments up for those long African summers, and winters that feel like summers, as I struggle and succeed and sweat and teach and laugh and cry and eat strange things and wash laundry and plant seeds and speak français and everything else I couldn't even guess at.

that's all I have for you, lovelies. can't wait to tell you about the exciting things, I just have to get there first! 

All the Words

I hate blogs, but I like adventures and writing and trying new foods and changing the world, so as a compromise to those I constantly leave behind I present this gift: all the words that enter my head as I prepare, travel, and live in Benin, West Africa as a Peace Corps volunteer.

At the moment I'm watching Game of Thrones and drinking a local beer, so my report tonight will be brief and probably boring. But hear you me, I'm in for adventures and if you think of me occasionally, I look forward to sharing them with your lovely self, my curious mom, and whoever stumbles upon this while googling "quirky, good hair, West Africa, obsessed with Game of Thrones and saving the rain forests."

cheers loves.

oh, and if you managed to find yourself here and are of the few wondering how they can help me prepare, book suggestions and REI giftcards are where it's at. A million times thank you my little darlings for your time, love, and support.