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Published: September 22nd 2005
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 intelligent girl the internet where there is so much information, but at the same time wondering how, if ever, she would be able to do the same. I didn’t really teach anything, but gave her a little taste. Good or not so good, I don’t know, but I was amused to hear her tell Maman about what she had done.
And then Maman asked me how my mom in the states read the letters I sent. I hesitantly told them there is a computer at my home. Things were quite for a bit, and then everyone was talking in Fradja (Francais-Adja) about the Internet. How would I have told them that there is more than one computer in my home? Along with machines for washing clothes, drying clothes, washing dishes, toasting bread, making coffee, playing music, watching TV, cooling/heating the home, answering the phone… It just kind of hit me that whoa, we have a heck of a lot of machines. And I am living easily without them in a fairly well off family. Not that I don’t miss them, of course. I don’t think it’s bad, really, to have machines. Maybe it wastes energy, but if possible, my family Asse would have the same machines. I am vigilant in keeping my computer hidden. To my family, the number of shiny new books sitting on my desk is riches galore. I don’t know what they would say if they saw my computer too.
But I also realized, as Zelag was looking at the web site for Grand Popo, that I have already been traveling in Benin much more than the average Beninese. I didn’t realize this before because I have done most of my traveling here in a nice white SUV (ah! Stereotypes!), and the trips have been no longer than two and a half hours. Both the reliable vehicle with four working doors and seat belts for everyone, and the relatively easy distances are familiar to me because I just came from a lifestyle of road tripping. (Well, the car with four working doors was not my normal, but normal for everyone else… Oh Taurus! I do appreciate you!) Travel like that is neither easy nor normal here. I hadn’t thought anything of it, because I am so used to being able to hope in a vehicle and go until my money is almost gone.
A change in lifestyle is definitely the case here, especially for women. I have already written my thoughts on jeans and swimsuits, but tonite I can articulate a few more. I am not talking of laws, necessarily, but the lifestyle, the culture, that changes my habits. For example, people don’t stay out late at night here. Even teenagers are home again by at least just after nightfall. Those who do stay out aren’t held in the best societal light. That means trips to the bar with the other volunteers start after class, about 17h30, and end usually by 19h30. Dinner for me is usually an hour or two after the sun goes down, when it is cooler to cook by the fire.
Another example is that girls, women, don’t go out alone, and if possible, are accompanied home at night. Yet again, this is difficult for an independent woman, like me, to swallow sometimes. But if I don’t adjust, then I am much less normal. Everyone knows normality has never been one of my strong points, but in a society wherein everything I do is not normal, I like to blend in when, and if, it is a little bit possible.
Being a volunteer for the Government of the Unites States of America also puts me in the arms of other rules and regulations beyond the societal norms. If I think some are not necessary or are excessive, I have only to remember two things: I could have chosen to live in Benin on my own, not through the Peace Corps, or I could have stayed in America. In either case, I would have had liberty to do as I pleased, but I probably would not have learned how to wash my underwear discreetly, nor what boiled okra tastes like, nor to appreciate so well the society I was born in.
On a very different note, I have a good story for you: One morning I had gone running a little later than usual, pushing my luck that I wouldn’t have to get to class right at 8h. I pushed too hard. The run itself was fine, but as I was bucket bathing, one of my coordinators came to my door to take me to my local language teacher. “Je viens!” I said as I only just began rinsing off the soap… Five, okay, seven minutes later I was dressed and able to speak. At which point the coordinator said, "Oh, you haven’t had breakfast, I’ll come back later.” Right. So I had breakfast, and when he came back, I had to follow him on his moto with my bike to my informer. It was one of the first times I was pedaling in a skirt, and just as I was getting going, he stops to buy gas on the side of the road, so I have to stop too. There are people here that I see every morning and evening, selling gas, eating breakfast at the beans and rice lady across the street, among all the other comings and goings along the black-top road. As he finally got going again, somehow my skirt got in the way of me trying to pedal, and I fell. You might remember me being athletic, coordinated at lest, or even graceful sometimes, but none of those qualities came into play. I fell sideways directly onto the red dirt, into wet grass, still straddling the bike, helmet askew, and totally bewildered as to how in the world I had done that, along with being utterly, eye-closing embarrassed. How to get up was the next question. As I was straddling a bike in a skirt, ladylike was not part of the answer. I am pretty sure that many people saw more white than they had ever seen before. So, finally, among all the, “doucement, eh?” I clambered back on my bike, fixed my helmet, and started pedaling. Ugh.
Hope you laughed! I did. ebk
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Stuart
non-member comment
Hey
hi Erika! hows it going over in benin africa?i had my First soccer today. we won the score was 7 to 0 us. tell the whole family in africa hi for me and i'll talk to you l8er maybe when we call you again. Love ya