Good Evening. I am a little sick, but only a little. Nothing unexpected, and nothing a few papaya seeds won’t jettison. Tonite, I want to talk about two things I love: no, not peanut butter and chocolate (good guess though!), but jeans and basketball. I have now played two times with the guys of Athieme, on their dirt court. I feel really cool, because although these guys know how to play, they don’t really know the rules; thus enters me, the resident expert. Me, the awkward white girl who speaks funny French, telling all these 16-20ish aged guys the rules [View Full Entry]

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So… A shot of sodabe and one and a half grand Castels later… I opened my mail. Two very good friends of mine had mailed me a book of selected essays/extracts, picked by famous authors themselves. Does this mean this was the cheapest book at Borders’ that had anything to do with my interests? Well, maybe. But I like to think that no, the book was selected for me with four loving hands (my two friends, not a four handed, orange-snotted monster) in consideration of the habit I have of writing. I wrote to myself, and then even quoted to [View Full Entry]

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I have got a good story, especially for those of you who know me. I love my job. I spend most of my time working with a three-year-old non-governmental organization, started by a very ambitious and tree-loving young guy. With him and his ONG (that is NGO in French) I have ridden my bike throughout the countryside meeting women’s groups who keep their villages clean, grafted mango trees, and gathered Teak tree seeds. This is the story: Last Sunday I was with the president of the ONG, who I work with. He had told me that we would be climbing trees [View Full Entry]

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Let me give you a tour of my home. I will start at my nice new fence. As you walk in, you have to “faire doucement,” and step over the bottom board. I have a big yard; on the east side are green/yellow bushes. On the south side are my compost pile, vegetable garden, and more flowering plants, and another fence door. Through this door I can get to my clothesline and basketball hoop. Against the house are pretty red flowers, and on the other side of the steps are tall, green, leafy plants. There are seven steps up to [View Full Entry]

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I write this at the end of my eleventh day in Athieme, Benin. Thus far life has been easy because of many circumstances; 1) I live with another volunteer who will finish her two-year tenure in about a week, and who graciously shares all of her knowledge, 2) I get to make my own schedule, always, whatever I want to do, aside from anything to do with cold weather, 3) many aspects of my environment remind me of home, and I naturally feel comfortable here, and 4) I feel welcomed as a woman moving into a new home, and as a [View Full Entry]

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Here this is a travel blog, and I write about anything but my travels. Somehow, Sundays are the hardest. Sundays are when I wake up thinking of nothing but home and family and friends, wishing for easy communication, if not those people right bedside me. Sundays are when I go to church and experience the most extreme feelings of homesickness, insignificance, and love. All of these emotions during the two hours of mass, and then some. I am homesick on Sundays because Sundays have such regularity. Sundays are always beautiful, rain, sun, or snow. (Snow? What?) Waking up, reading books, [View Full Entry]

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Zelag went with me to the cyber café tonite, just to see what was what. She had never used the Internet, not even a computer, before tonite. I checked my email and then looked at Nancy’s blog and showed her the pictures of her home I had put on the Internet. She had no idea what I was doing; inserting my USB jump drive, typing quickly, copying and pasting, scrolling, etc. Luckily, though, I had 15 minutes left by the time I had finished, so I switched places with her. I typed in “Benin” and pulled up a tourism site [View Full Entry]

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I live in a fairly sheltered home. Family Asse has a home on the edge of town, down a road shared only with the Eglise du Royaume du Jesus-Christ, (which is a kick in the pants itself), and a tall wall surrounding the yard. I am very comfortable here. Usually I don’t fee like an outsider, but there are times when visitors come and I realize, yet again, what a novelty I am. I knew before I left the U.S. that I would look like a sore-thumb in this African society, but I didn’t realize how hard that would be [View Full Entry]

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I like to write in the morning, sitting at an old school desk on a bench on my porch. This morning Papa brought me two fresh baguettes; I am in the process of eating some with honey. I am not alone; Maman is sweeping in front of her door, and Papa and my “sister” Valerie are going in and out, getting ready for the day. Last night I played an endless game of UNO with Maman and Evarise, well, endless until 23h, an hour after I usually go to my room. Yesterday was a very active day for me; I met [View Full Entry]

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Funny how food inspires me: today for lunch I was eating peanut butter (which is no surprise, thanks to mom and dad!) with bread and fried bananas. I would have taken the bananas fresh over fried, but Maman beat me to it. Maman brought the bananas to my door and almost caught me living my secret life; I was dancing to Dispatch in my second room. There is no real reason why I do not ask Maman if I can play my music on the family’s stereo, except that I would attract far more attention dancing in the family room [View Full Entry]

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