Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Another First

I’ve seen a myriad of funny/weird/crazy/sad images here. I’ve seen a kid with two thumbs, men and children dressed as haystacks speaking through horns and scaring crowds, rain so violent that it displaces whole villages, old men with Maxim Hot 100 bodies, and women carrying loads on their heads that would warrant a U-Haul in the US. But for the first time ever last week, I was present for a voodoo ceremony.


As part of my latrine construction project, I pass by each house to check on the progress of the work there. Last week, one family was celebrating the fĂȘte season and a profitable month in their household by killing a goat and giving part of the raw meat, along with 40 cents and a bag of kola nuts (horribly bitter nuts that people chew here for energy, I think that’s where Coca-Cola got its name) to the other families in the village. I showed up just as the heat was turning the meat from fresh to putrid, and if the fly population was any indication, the party was well underway. I was also given the meat, 40 cents, and kola nuts. I ate some of the meat but gave the rest, along with the nuts, to my neighbors. They came to me later asking who had given it to me, because they’re sure it had “gri-gri” in it (which means they think someone had put a spell on it). Unfortunately, by that time I had already eaten the meat. They said that side effects could include either sleepwalking back to that man’s house at night, or the desire to eat my own children. Jury’s still out on that.



So, the ceremony. At this same house, the father felt compelled to thank me for the latrine by putting on a ceremony on my behalf. He laid a cloth on the ground and explained some significance for it that now escapes me, then pulled out several dolls made of carved wood and goat hair, shells, animal bones, and hollowed out gourds. The dolls were all in pairs, because here twins are highly regarded, almost supernatural. There was a lot of chanting in Fon (the local language) and a lot of pointing things at the sky, and talking to the dolls. The entire ceremony, as I gather many of their ceremonies are, was for communicating with their ancestors, who I believe were buried under the ground that we stood on (that is common here, to bury family members on the property, sometimes even in the house). Finally, the man laid two dolls next to each other on the cloth and covered them with a calabash bowl. While I tapped the bowl continuously with my hands, he asked his ancestors to bring me fortune when I return to the US, and to ensure that I someday return here to bless them again. He explained that if his ancestors agreed, they would communicate that by raising the dolls to a standing position. When I lifted the calabash up, sure enough the dolls were standing! That’s not enough to convert me, but pretty cool. I still have no idea how he did it.



I didn’t want to offend him by snapping pictures, so I just managed to get this one while he wasn’t looking.



Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Latrine Update



Thanks to donations from family, friends, and a few strangers, I am able to construct 25 latrines in my community. I promised updates on the progress of the project, so here it goes.




The families are overall enthusiastic to be a part of this project and grateful for the aid. Our first steps were to pass by each house and make sure they had gathered enough sand for the masons to use (which I would see them all doing in the morning, since the route I run just happens to pass through the village where the latrines are being constructed). First the masons make cement and mud bricks, then place them in a circle and cement them together. Next, groups of diggers dig 10-meter trenches. This is the most time-consuming part. It takes each group of 2 to 3 diggers at least 5 days to dig that deep. Then the mason constructs a circle of mud and cement with a hole and a nice little marked place to put one’s feet (photos below). This latrine “top” is done apart from the latrine and put on later. That’s one of the benefits of this type of latrine: in 10 years or so, when the latrine has been filled, the family can dig another hole and place the cement top over it (and hopefully cover the hole of the first latrine!).




Every other evening, my work partner Vlavonou, a local hygiene worker, and I do a tour of the houses to ensure that work is going smoothly. I had thought we would run into problems being that the project coincides with the fĂȘte season here. No one works or does much of anything except eat and sleep between Christmas and mid-January. It has actually worked in our favor, though. I think people are eager to make some money before the holidays, so work has been completed quicker than we had anticipated and we are, at the moment, ahead of schedule. Which will hopefully put us on schedule after the holiday season.




I had originally thought that the latrines would service about 200 people, 8 a household. That was grossly conservative. There are an average of 14 people in each compound (Beninese houses are not one building with several rooms, like in America, but rather a bunch of one- or two-roomed buildings clustered together), which means 350 people will now have a safe place to defecate, even more if they share the love with their neighbors.




Visiting the families has been a blast. People get irrationally excited when I speak to them in Fon (my local language), which feeds my needy and attention hungry side that comes from being the younger child. People gift me bananas, plantains, grapefruit, corn, pineapples, and children, though I politely decline the latter. I’ve had several offers of newborns to take with me to America. Through this project I’ve come to know two young girls who have debilitating diseases: sickle cell anemia and polio. I don’t know that there is anything that can be done about the first, but I’m looking into groups who give out hand-powered tricycles for the girl with polio. That would drastically change her life. As it is, her legs are shriveled up and completely useless, so she never leaves the family compound and there is practically nothing she can do on her own. Her hands are rough from pulling herself around on the dirt ground and she will likely not be able to marry. It’s hard to say whether or not her family will continue to treat her with compassion or grow resentful of the extra mouth they have to feed. Thankfully, government sponsored polio vaccinations are available one weekend every couple months.


Back to the latrines. My hope is to get a photo of each family next to their latrine and post it next month. Below are some pictures of the progress made so far.

Vlavonou and one of the beneficiaries standing next to where his latrine has been started.
Vlavonou counting the number of bricks lay before we pay the mason for his work.

My work partners and I at one of their houses.
My work partner Vlavonou at a meeting with village families.

A digger several meters deep in the latrine hole. He loads a bucket full of sand that is then hoisted up by his partner (below).

A freshly cemented latrine top with the inscriptions for Peace Corps and the local health center.