Pictures from the Front Line Two

The Dogbo crew
Dancers at the Independence Day fete

Independence Day march in Dogbo

Baby Bjorn ain't got nothing on the ol' "sling the kid on our back and ti 'em down with a sheet" method
Fashion show in Dogbo, showing off some local modeles

Moving cattle through ParakouMemorial to a fallen Bariba king

Us at the Tchuck market (millet beer, more like wine, more stories to come)
Us in a 3 wheel rickshaw on the way to the market
Croc at the museum in Parakou

Steve on the radio (English club at the university does a show every Sunday. Steve was asked to join a debate about girls going to school while simultaneously supporting his beloved Boston Red Sox)

Jaren's garden in Dogbo. No word on whether or not any of those are cilantro for salsa...

Zemidjans and Accompanying Helmets

The bulk of intracity transport here is done by moped, or Zemidjans as they're known locally. Drivers are easily identifiable by the matching shirts (colors vary my town -- Cotonou is blue, Parakou is yellow and green, etc...).

Most of the time you see commuters simply commuting to where they're going, but it is not unusual to see whole families on board -- Dad Driving, Mom on back and three kids in between. But it doesn't stop there. Its also fairly common to see someone transport some recent purchase, be it a large bag of rice, boxes and -- as we saw once in Cotonou -- a toilet propped up between the driver and passenger.

Recognizing the essential role Zemis play in Beninese life, the Peace Corps issues each volunteer a helmet with the strict proviso that anyone caught not wearing one will be immediately sent home no questions asked. And given that we're all college graduates, every person here has spent way too much time and money filling their heads to see them emptied on the ground.

So we got our helmets last week, lovely silver ones with a host of little air vents and other gadgets. Well, needless to say leaving Steve alone with his silver helmet, access to paint and too much time on his hands could only result in one thing...

And to make things better, he will be giving himself a Buckeye for each month of service, hopefully topping out with 27 when he returns home.

Jaren of course was right along side, however the lack of gold paint makes a replica of the Husky football helmet a bit tough. That said, she did prep her helmet with a lovely coat of purple and there is already a gold "W" sticker en route from the state of Washington as we speak.

Pictures from the Front Line One

Here is an assorted collection of pictures we've taken so far with varying degrees of explanation. Enjoy!
Typical road scene
What passes for scaffolding here -- not exactly the NYC brand.
Steve doing laundry by hand

The older of Steve's two host brothers, Marius
Goats in a bar, not abnormal here

Playing soccer one evening with some of the locals(assorted PCVs and PCV-Trainees)
Steve's host father, the honorable Antoine Djohossou at the Independence Day celebration (the one seated in the brightly colored boumba)

Kickoff for the Independence Day celebration (being Yovos we got special seats right up front)
Romeo, the younger of the two brothers and a too be ladies man who will surely live up to his namesake.

Coochie Coochie - We're Moving to Tchaourou

So when we’re done with training, we’re moving to Tchaourou (pronounced Cha-ro), the main city of a county (for lack of a better term) by the same name that is actually comprised of 7 towns and assorted villages. More importantly for you geography buffs out there, Tchaourou is located 50 some odd kilometers south of Parakou, which is the second largest city in Benin and just about the country’s center point. So if I were to draw the analogy, Parakou is Chicago and Tchaourou is Gary, Indiana.

But Tchaourou is not to be underestimated or relegated to some second city status. As you Beninese political junkies know (I know you’re out there), Tchaourou is also the hometown of recently elected Beninese President Dr. YAYI Boni, thus giving it much more gravity on the national map than other cities of similar size.

As part of our two week training we were able to spend a couple of days in Tchaourou getting to know our way around, as well as allowed to come up to the Parakou workstation which will be our regional office for the Corps (thus the internet access).

So here’s a little primer on our house. Up front we need to thank the recently departed former volunteer Lisa who was kind enough to leave just about all her furniture, giving us the luxury of having it feel like home instantly. We also know it’s a luxury not all volunteers have and cognizant of karma, all West African volunteers coming through Tchaourou are welcome for a bite and a good night sleep any time the want.

The unit is one of three in a concession, or walled in compound. We will share it with the Chef d’Arrondismant (head of our part of town) and his family, as well as the woman in charge of the Public Health Center (aka Jaren’s boss). Having met all, they were all very nice and we don’t anticipate any great problems.


Here is the view of our front door and the view from it. As far as we can tell, that is a chicken tree as the only thing edible we ever see come out of it are live chickens (we also have guinea fowl who live in the concession, but no goats or pigs – yet).

Here is the view of the living room and spare bed. There is an equal size space where the dining room table and a book shelf are. We’ll probably move some stuff around to make the place a bit more to our liking, but you get the picture. And yes, the chairs are super comfortable.


Here is the bedroom complete with double bed and double occupancy mosquito netting. For those who are concerned with some of our anti-malarial precautionary measures, in a ddition to the mosquito netting all the windows have a fine plastic screen over that creates a double layer of protection.

Here is the kitchen, or at least part of it. We will be bringing up our Peace Corps issued stoves and gas canisters, as well as having another table built for prep and another small basin table for bathroom-like use (brushing of teeth, washing of face, picking of nose etc…)

And finally the two largest changes, the “shower” and the latrine. Shower in name only, it is a semi secluded 3’x3’ elevated cement platform graded to draw the water toward a small hole leading out of the back of the concession. It is semi private but located in out 100% private back porch area, where we also have sitting room and another covered room that is supposed to be an outdoor kitchen but is way to stuffy to hang out in.


And the latrine. Cement donut with a hole in the ground. At this point, we’re pretty much limited to squatting, although Steve does plan on buying a toilet seat I can carry with me back and forth. It too is newer and in very good shape, but its still not exactly a toilet. And as anyone who knows Steve knows he does his best pondering in those last two places, so with the lack of both he has gotten very little thinking done in the last month.

As for the ride up here, the short version is that a 4 hour trip took 14. But longtime readers of this blog are probably used to hearing nightmare travel stories from us so we’ll just leave it at this -- the words army checkpoints, over-packed ‘59 Peugeot 504, dropped clutch, blackout welding, Peuhl herdsman in a pink sequined boumba and mullet (complete with hobo-style "sack on a stick" luggage), rebuilt transmission rattling its way through the country night and near blind old man simply known as “Vieux” were all involved. Oh yeah, and a cute little kid.

Stylin’, Profilin’

Tissue, or fabric as we call it in the west, is a really big deal here. A veritable rainbow of color and design, it’s rare to see two people wearing the same pattern in the same style.

Two particular tissue wrinkles to mention here:

a) You can get all sorts of stuff printed on tissue, including animals, consumer goods or cultural items printed on your tissue ranging from keys to forks to birds and fish. Word on the street is there is an iPod tissue and I’ve seen one pattern with energy saver light bulbs on it (the coiled ones). Steve’s Papa has some with a container holding a whisk, spoon, ladle, spatula and carving fork in it. Even saw one with American footballs on it, but I doubt the woman wearing it had any clue what they were. The options are limitless, and from what we can discern it has something to do with displaying your ownership of something or, at least, giving the impression of ownership.

b) Families all walk around in matching outfits, especially on Sunday with churchin’ on the agenda (MUCH more on the churchin’ to come).

So with that said, before the August 1 Independence Day celebration some tissue was bought. Azove, where Steve lives, is one of the country’s best tissue markets. With the assistance of Sylvie, Romeo and Julius, he purchased a “piece,” roughly 12 sq. meters from which he and Jaren could have outfits made. Each outfit uses roughly 4 sq. meters, so there will be enough left over for sheets, towels, baby carriers or one of the millions of other things “pagnes” (2 square meter pieces) are used for.

Much like the creation of a family tartan among the Scots, this lovely number will be the first mark of the Schwartz family here on the African continent. Without further ado…


The pattern was chosen for both the color and design, particularly attractive because of the Siamese tree thing it had going on. Steve was able to sport his “Boumba” (large pullover shirt and drawstring pants) at the parade, but it was only then he made two shocking discoveries:

- It’s Seattle Seahawks colors
- The trees actually look like bowtie pasta

So there you go, the recently created Schwartz family’s first indelible impression on the African continent could is not unlike what one would imagine seeing if Shaun Alexander threw up pasta salad all over himself on gameday. C’est la vie.

In defense, Jaren does like it, although she’s not had time to have a matching outfit made (although she should in the next week) as she’s spent the last couple weekends in Azove. She does very much like the pattern though and thinks it will make a pretty addition to her wardrobe.

PS – If you don’t think you’re seeing pictures of the full Tichy and Schwartz families in matching outfits in the next three years, you are sorely mistaken my friend.

“We now return to our regularly scheduled program”

So sorry it’s been so long since we’ve updated – much to the chagrin of all our friends and loved ones we’ve been pretty out of the loop in terms of telecommunications for the past month. You see, the government and two of the major cell phone companies are involved in a bit of a row about back taxes, and most of the Internet cafés have been shut down over licensing/ profitability issues.

DISCLAIMER: As Peace Corps Volunteers, we are explicitly prohibited from commenting on politics and giving our opinion about the situation, so don’t ask why. Or if you’re going to ask why, expect a whole lot of “Because I said so”just like mom used to say.

But hey, we’re online now so let’s see if we can’t bring you, dear reader, up to speed.

First off, we are alive and well. We promise. For the past month – and for the next one as well – we will be living in the towns of Azove (Me) and Dogbo (Jaren), both in the Mono-Cuffo region of the country. For those without a Beninese road map handy (WHAT?! How could you not?), the M-C are the southernmost provinces on the countries western border with Togo. While yes, we have been living apart, we have seen each other pretty regularly on visits and official functions.

We are each living with a host family, with our own separate rooms and personal space. Broadly speaking, we’ve both been fortunate to find ourselves where we are. I am living with the Djohossou family in Azove. Papa (everyone gets family style names here, including the waitress at the bar affectionately known as “Tantie” or “Auntie”) is the sitting Primere Adjoint, sort of the head of the county commission. A very nice man, he’s been very welcoming to me and regularly takes me to his brother’s restaurant for an Awoyoo (Togolese beer, much more on beer later). Ditto for Mama, who while not speaking much French has still been a positive presence.

For the most part, I spend most of the time with the 5-8 kids (figures adjusted for status of cousins and live –in help), ranging in age from 16-4. The oldest two of the kids are Sylvie and Marius, both very thoughtful in their approach to life and inquisitive about the world. Then there is Romeo, the middle child, who since the minute I got off the bus has been buzzing around me perpetually. At 12, the kid is all personality and clearly his father’s successor in politics. We “promenade” (walk around) a lot, we asking questions and him showing off his big white friend. Seems to be working too, all the kids in town seem to know exactly who he is.

Carole and Julius are the youngest two at 8 and 4 respectively. The former plays the part of precocious young princess too a T (I’m looking at you Zoe Mosow), and Julius… we’ll, let’s just say the first time I seem him fully dressed for a whole day it will be the first time. Kid is just ALWAYS naked. In fact, my first night, I’m eating dinner on a stool outside my room, and he marches right up to me in all his natural glory and proceeds to start screaming at me in Adja (the dominant language in the M-C) while shaking his fist at me for about a minute. But wait, there’s more. When he finishes, he puts his elbow on my knee and just stares at me – still in the buff -- for the next 10 minutes while I eat. Hell of a first impression right? He’s just starting to learn French now, so maybe by the time I leave I can figure out what he said to me.

Jaren with Steve's family (Clockwise: Cousin Isabelle, Julius, Mama, Sylvie and Carole, all swapping stories about Steve washing his clothes in a bucket)

For the sake of clarity, we’re going to switch narrators now and let Jaren explain her host family.

I am residing with the Agossevi family, that is the Jacob Agossevi family. Agossevi is one of the largest families in Dogbo and many other stagieres are staying with other relatives of my Papa. Papa, he is the head of a local NGO where an environment PCV works, which means he is familiar with not only the Peace Corps, but the American culture as well. He is a busy man, so interaction with him has been scarce.

Papa also has 2 “femmes”. Mama 1, is like any other mother. She constantly wants to know where I’m going and what I’m doing. She also prepares some of my meals—the ones with more piemont (the hot peppers). Mama 2, is very sweet and I interact with her more. She is always at my door telling me to “va a la table”, come to the table it’s time to eat!

As for the kids, there are about 12 of them in total in the house. Most of them are under the age of 8. And like Julius in Steve’s family, I have 8 little brothers constantly running around naked. My brothers all think that they are Jackie Chan and show off their karate moves to me in the nude. It’s entertaining. There is an 11 year old and a 16 year old as well. The 16 year old, Chadrick, is my BFF at the moment (sorry Jadyn, you’ve been replaced for now due to lack of accessible communication). He wants to come to America, so we are having constant conversations about the differences and similarities between the two countries. It’s good French practice.


Steve again, back to explain training. So basically Stage (Italics to indicate when you should read an English-looking word with a French accent and/or attitude) is out 6 day/ week language and technical training program. The PC has rented a house for the 2 months in each training site (there are 4 towns involved) at which all instruction takes place, the current volunteers teaching us live and we have somewhat of an oasis from the overwhelming nature of the task in front of us. My French is getting better, while Jaren has had a good chance to polish her already excellent French skills. More on language and technical work to come in a future post.

Ah yes, future posts. To play it conservatively, expect a flurry of information in the next 48 hours, followed by what will likely be another month of quiet. You see, we’re now in Parakou, the major city in the middle of the country and work station for the Peace Corps’ mid-northern volunteers (Benin’s Chicago if you will). Tune in soon to find out where we’ll be posted for our two years of service and what horrible pop cultural references we’ll use to introduce our new home town…

News from Benin

As you can see we have been MIA for the last few weeks. That is because there are no internet connections in the region we are currently in, Adjah. Foruntately, I am in a neighboring town for a training and found the one internet cafe that is working.

We are alive and well. Steve is in Azove training and I am in Dogbo, which is about 20 km from Steve.

Highlights thus far, picutres and details to come but in many weeks...due to lack of internet capability:

Meme tissue
learning to make pate
learning Nagot
Marche days
Beninoise beers...and Awooyo, the Togolese beer

That is all for now.
More to come....