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 in French and showed her how to work the mouse and that the blue words meant links to another page. I was really feeling proud of myself for being able to show this beautiful and ... read more

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 Jacy to go running at 6h30 and had a good run. We saw a hunter coming back from his night’s work, probably hunting bush rat. He was wearing a headlamp; that is, a floodlight attached ... read more

I am eating peanut butter with a spoon. Beninoise peanut butter. What’s funny is that peanuts are a staple crop in Benin, but aren’t used much in cooking, and as far as I know, not for peanut butter either. I bought this peanut butter from a woman who works for the Peace Corps. She recognized the opportunity to earn a little extra, and learned how to make peanut butter for all us deprived Americans. Of course, the peanut butter doesn’t have the sugar I am used to, so I will still appreciate some good p.b. from the U.S. Until then, this is pretty darn good. I have a latrine story for you. Excuse me if I offend someone, but I really think it is too funny to not share. The latrine is a distance from my ... read more

So this is Africa. The Peace Corps does a very good job of masking reality, to some extent, to prevent culture shock. I spent five days in Cotonou before traveling to Aplahoue with eight other stagaires. In Aplahoue, we met our host families. My name now is Asse Beth Erika. I was told I would become the eighth child of this family, but I think there are only four children actually born from my mother and father. The definition of family here is very inclusive; I think the other children are cousins or friends who have families not as capable of providing for their children, so my family welcomes them. This is a very typical family in African culture. My family Asse is wonderful, and maybe one of my greatest sources of comfort. Considering the circumstances, ... read more