August was hands down the most fun-filled month I’ve had here. My aunt and uncle (returned Peace Corps volunteers who met while serving in the Philippines) and 3 cousins visited for two weeks, one of which was spent in Zè and the other traveling up north and visiting some off the map tourist gems. Travel with the Cary family is always interesting, like a new millennium National Lampoon’s. Here are the highlights:
-Hotels! Hot showers, swimming pools, the customer service that a foreign clientele commands (and tips for), someone else cleaning up after me, etc. However, though I believed them to be luxurious I think they were comparable to a Travel Lodge. (Funny story- when I went to check in for the hotel the first night, before their flight arrived, I had just gotten off an 8-hour bus ride and looked like, well, a Peace Corps volunteer. I tried to convince the hotel reception to let me into the room so I could shower, but that my family would be paying when they came in that night. They hesitantly let me in.When I came back down, after a hot shower, they realized I was a high-class lady under all that filth and apologized profusely for treating me like anything less.)
-Swimming in the rain with the entire Cary/Fisher clan.
-Showing them my office and work partners.
-The house we stayed at (my house is far too small for 6 people) had a ton of “cute” kids with whichmy family loved to play and take pictures. I was less amused and was constantly yelling at them to not feed the kids lest all the neighborhood kids come begging for things. They probably think I’ve lost a bit of heart.
-The drum and dance circle at my village chief’s house. Uncle Tim and Ron both got in the middle and danced like, well, like no one I’ve ever seen (someone send me those videos so I can post them here). Ron even got Papa, the chief’s dad who has got to be pushing 90, out there dancing.
-My family’s (particularly Uncle Tim’s) infatuation with the tiny goats here.
-Dinner with the mayor on Ron’s birthday- the mayor’s son peed on Uncle Tim while sleeping and the mayor gave Ron an elephant carved out of wood for his birthday.
-All the markets we visited. I think my Uncle Tim could write “bargaining” on his resume under “Skills.”
-Moto biking through the forest in Zè.
-Having traditional outfits made.
-Visiting the orphanage where I’ll be planting a garden this month.
-The 12 hour voyage to the north, starting with motos at 6am, then a 2 hour taxi, a 7 hour bus (made longer because of the torrential downpour on the way which nearly forced my cousin Eve to use a GoGirl on the bus-if you don’t know what that is Google it), followed by another moto ride.
-Meeting a local artist who makes all of his paintings out of once-used canvas and natural pigments: cobalt, red dirt, leaves, hibiscus and other flowers, etc. He doesn’t even buy paintbrushes, just uses his hands. We bought a Beninese fortune in paintings from him and he gave us handmade necklaces and bracelets as a gift.
-Taking the volunteers in the north out for dinner so that my family got to hear other volunteer’s perspectives and stories (and I got a break from talking and translating).
-Going to a village on the Togo border called Boukoumbè for my birthday. We rented a car and hired a guide for the day. It was a gorgeous (if not comfortable) hour and a half ride on red dirt roads with stunning vistas and deep green hills. This area is known for its “tata sambas”: houses made by the Samba people out of mud that are very intricate-several storied with multiple rooms each serving its own purpose. Like little mud fortress mansions. We just stopped along the road at one family’s house and paid them to take a tour. Sadly because the houses are built high and there are (super sketchy) ladders all over to navigate the stories, old people have to live on the ground floor with the livestock. (Next time Grandma complains about the nursing home someone tell her about this.)
-Visiting the weaving center in Djougou where women make traditional Beninese fabrics that each take weeks to complete.
-Taking them to the airport and finding out that a guy from my village had actually driven the whole way to the airport just to say goodbye to them (again). That’s the Beninese for you.
