Blogs from Benin, Africa - page 12

Today I was walking out in the African cornfield with Ghislain, in search of monkeys preparing ears of corn to eat. The combination of the smells of hot vegetation, the corn and grass taller than my head on either side of me, the rustling of the leaves and the feel of the wind on my face that also made my already sweaty t-shirt press up against me, reminded me of home. I told Ghislain that if I closed my eyes, I could see my sisters and brother and dogs with me, all out in the yard, maybe getting ready to play catch or something. Once, Ghislain told me that if I want to, if I really need to see my family, I could go to the States and back in a minutes' time, just by closing ... read more

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 to basketball and really kind of messing with their game. Because I don’t want to be shunned, and even more, I want to be able to keep playing basketball, I only say a little bit. ... read more

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 my porch, a planter on either side of them, each with a pineapple plant. Three doorways and a swallows’ nest greet you at the top of the steps (and a barking dog). I only let ... read more

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, eating pancakes, and smiling are all easy things to do on Sundays. Sundays are church, family, and contentedness. For 22 years I have had that regularity, and on a different continent I keep it that ... read more

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