Pictures!

Me and my puppy!!

The neighbors, Jueslin, Gloria, and Gladys with Jasper

A couple of the TEFL girls in our meme tissue at swear-in! They had special tissue designed to celebrate the 40th anniversary, and then each sector had its own color. It's really fun to see the self-expression that comes out when everyone takes the same fabric and comes up with something different.

Last night with the host fam in Porto Novo

The Newest Addition to the Sulewski Family...

I got a puppy! His name is Jasper and I bought him at the marché last Tuesday. They randomly sell kittens and puppies in the chicken section, actually, and their usually cramped in cages with them too. Jasper was in a small cage piled on all of his brothers and sisters, but the only one up and active. He is mostly brown (better to hide the dirt I think), with white paws and tail, and a black snout. The vet says he's about 8 weeks old, which is comparatively pretty old for the dogs and cats sold there (my friend Dennis in a nearby village bought a puppy that can't be more than 5 weeks old). I paid extra because he is older actually, but it was definitely worth it. He can already eat food and learn commands. He's so smart- after 4 days he already knows his name, "leave it", "sit", "come", and is basically house trained!

The first 48 hours were horrible. I was so back and forth about getting him in the first place. A lot of new volunteers around me have gotten kittens or dogs, so I was kind of peer-pressured into it. I was at the marché with Katherine (the other PCV in Dogbo), who has a kitten, and she really encouraged me to do it. Well, that first night as I lay awake for 8 hours straight as he cried, all I could think of was how I could get rid of him and all the problems I'd have if I kept him. My neighbors hated me the next day, the neighbor's kids pestered me even more (as if that could be possible), and he would not stop peeing. Well, luckily for him he's a quick learner, he no longer cries at night, he sleeps most of the day anyway, and he's so darn cute! He loves to curl up at my feet and sleep, which of course gets me everytime. I let him sleep inside last night and he actually didn't get into anything, so I'm feeling hopeful he's gonna stay! I also can't really bear to think about what his life will be like if I gave him away. It's so sad but so true that my dog will likely have more vaccines, more toys, and eat more protein than the average Beninese child. While I have mixed feelings about that, I also feel like the least I can do is suck it up and keep him.

Despite the first few days I was tied down w/ Jasper this week I've still just been trying to meet more people in Dogbo and explore little by little. A fellow English prof took me to 2 orphanages neary my house and I'd really like to work with them in the future, even just to drop by from time to time to play games with the kids. We also toured the surroundings village areas, which were breathtaking. Despite my pretty modern amenities in my own home, I've only got to go a few blocks off the main road to find all mud huts and people performing back-breaking work all day long. Quite often only children could respond to my French because older generations didnt go to school to learn it. There are such huge differences between ways of life here, my host family in Porto-Novo, for example, compared to the villagers of Dogbo, but there is also avery strog mutual respect between them. City people are very aware oftheir village of origin and often return to visit family still living there. I hope I can spend some valuable time in the villages on some sort of project, just to get better understanding of how that major portion of Beninese society lives.

First Week at Post!

I arrived in Dogbo on Monday, September 8th, which also happened to be marché day and thus a sign of good luck. After driving through the hectic marché and dodging all the Mamas walking around with baskets on their heads, the taxi headed up & up through Dogbo to my house. I've come to learn that my house is literally the last house on the outskirts of Dogbo, and when I take a right turn in the morning to go on my run, all there is the jungle, and people walking from who knows how far to buy/sell things in the market.

Anyway, so as the taxi pulled up my neighbors all excitedly ran out to greet me and help carry in all of my things. As soon as I unlocked the door, Mama from next door sent two girls in to frantically sweep all the dust that has accumulated in the 3 weeks since the last volunteer had been here. Then Mama and the kids started bringing all of my stuff inside. I think the kids were half trying to be helpful and half just trying to get a glimpse of all the complicated and exotic stuff the Yovo brought with her. It's amazing how leaving home with 80 pounds in the US means you're leaving your life behind, but when a 9 year old Beninese boy looks at your open suitcase, all he can say is that you brought so much with you, what could it all be for? It's also weird that my house is attached to two identical houses on either side, both with 5 people in them, and both with less furniture than mine (they do both have TVs though, which is an occasional special treat for me).

Yet, despite what one might consider my more privileged position from a more materialistic viewpoint, my neighbors help me out more than I could ever possibly repay them for, and its only been a week! When they hear me sweeping every morning (which one must do to keep up with all the dust and cobwebs that come w/having screens for windows), either a child or mama will come over and insist to do it themselves. "I need to practice!" I tell them, but they explain that this is their work, they are very good at it, and it's not hard for them. Mama also says she refuses to let me find someone to pay for my laundry because she can help me do it. I remind her that she has so much work of her own, but she kindly reminds me that I can't very well do it myself if I actually want it to get decently clean. Although I am determined to do it myself, I'm still so impressed by their willingness to help and it provides such a new perspective. Americans are so accustommed to thinking of these things as chores, rather than just the natural flow of the day. These are skills they are justifiably proud of, and while they're teaching me how to shop at the marché or sweep my dirt, it's also a big lesson on humility.

Mama has also been very helpful in the way of occasionally providing me with something delicious to eat. Now, at home, I consider myself pretty confident in the kitchen, but let's just say that my culinary skills in Beninese cuisine could use quite a bit of work. After 3 pretty horrible meals in a row --> thanks to too much boullion, undercooked lentils, and wayyy too much cayenne pepper, Mama cadeau-ed (gave me a gift) of delicious rice and beans that lasted for both lunch and dinner on Thursday. I was in heaven. I know I won't starve because there are plenty of places to buy street food and I brought lots of peanut butter :-), but I'm still pushing myself to cook every meal just so I can learn little by little. I've had much more luck recently, including a delicious okra and tomato stir fry last night!

I've still got lots to learn in the way of portion sizes, though, and even more to learn about how long fruits and veggies last unrefrigerated. I definitely threw out more than a few rotten things this week! I also threw out a tomato, an orange, and a wild apple when I cut them open to find worms inside. Sick! I'm hoping it was an unlucky streak, but I'll definitely be very attentive for the rest of my time here! While it's disgusting and a big inconvenience, I guess it's the tradeoff for getting completely fresh and organic produce. I watched a gardener pull my carrots right out of the ground and I ate them 30 minutes later. It was probably one of the most delicious salads of my life.

Well, other than trying to figure out how to maintain a house and a life on a daily basis, I've just been out every day exploring Dogbo and introducing myself to people. I defintely see why others consider this area a little tougher to deal with relative to other cultural areas in Benin. I'm constantly mocked and laughed at, which isn't really typical of most more rural areas here based on what I've heard. Although it can get frustrating, I've also met some really nice people, and my neighbors more than make up for it. I really look forward to finding some great friends here. School should be starting in a few weeks and I look forward to meeting the other professors. Hopefully a few of them will help me get more acquainted.

Lastly...since I'm writing on my blog right now, it's clear that I've found internet in Dogbo! It's a tiny cyber and I don't know that the connection is working all that often, but hopefully it'll be at least fairly reliable.

Le Bebe-Foot

Every once in a while, you see a random foosball table sitting outside of somebody's house that you can play for 25 Cfa (about 7 cents). So yesterday I was out with 2 Beninese friends and, being the foosball competitor that I am, nonchalantly asked what they called it. They informed me that it's called "le bebe-foot" and asked if I wanted to play. It was kind of crazy because it was all made of wood and then the little men are actually steel. The table was kind of falling apart too, but I still managed to beat my friend 5-0.

Well after this little fun match, the two teenage boys from the house that owned the table got interested that a white woman actually beat an African man at something. So the two of them came out and both decided to take a turn against me, which really took no more than 30 seconds for the both of them before I scored twice. Wellll...let me tell you...they were shocked. So then of course, Papa has to come out to teach this yovo woman a lesson. He was actually pretty good and a formidable opponent, but I still managed to outscore him by quite a bit. By now there was definitely a crowd of about 12 people standing around, and as I continued on to beat Papa all of their laughter was just making him angrier and angrier. So then he demanded that we switch sides of the table. The other side was actually much worse, so he finally starting scoring more, but he also starting cheating by picking up the ball and moving it under his man whenever it was stuck somewhere and the men couldn't reach it. After he did it about 5 times I finally told him he couldn't do it and that it's cheating. Well everyone just starting laughing hysterically that this woman was calling out Papa on cheating and beating him at the same time. When he finally finished he just turned around and walked away, and everyone else was just eager to get to the table. In the end I have no idea what the final score was, but it was probably the proudest moment of my foosball career (except maybe for the first time I beat my brother Andrew :-) ).