Making local celebrities for a cause

Child trafficking** is a major concern in Benin, specifically in cities near the Nigerian border such as Tchaourou. Why? Cutluarlly, children work here; they help run the kitchen, keep the house tidy and sell items (produce, shoes, drinks, etc) to make ends meet for the household. Yes, even kids younger than aged 6 do this. However, there are “traffickers” who exploit this culutural acceptance by telling parents that if they send their child to, lets say, Nigeria that the child’s life can be more prosperous doing the same work that they would otherwise do here in Benin. Moreover, the parents PAY to send the child away with the trafficker usually a couple thousand CFA and a few pagnes. The parents believe they are giving their child a better life; a life they otherwise could not provide. Once the child is gone, they are rarely ever heard from again and that child ends up living a life of, for lack of better word, in slavery not earning a dime. So, you see why this is a problem. And this is just one example of Benin’s problem with child trafficking.

There is a lack of knowledge about the reality of the situation here. To create an awareness campaign, I worked with local singers to create a CD of songs in Tchaourou’s local languages addressing children’s rights. This CD will be played in public areas, specifically the market where most children are either enticed or abducted to work in Nigeria, as well as in taxi cars and stores.

To create the CD, I took the local artists up to Parakou (the closest big city) to a recording studio.

Here’s a clip of one Nagot song.

Yes, that is a big poster of USHER on the back wall




After the recording tech was done, we “feted” by going to get a snack at a buvette next door.


Overally, the day was a success.


** Child Trafficking: "the recruitment, transportation, transfer, harboring or receipt of persons, by means of the threat or use of force or other forms of coercion, of abduction, of fraud, of deception, of the abuse of power or of a position of vulnerability or of the giving or receiving of payments or benefits to achieve the consent of a person having control over another person, for the purpose of exploitation. Exploitation includes, at a minimum, the exploitation of the prostitution of others or other forms of sexual exploitation, forced labor or services, slavery or practices similar to slavery, servitude or the removal of organs."

World Women's Day Fete

World Women’s Day was March 8th, but like all holidays here in Benin, it was not celebrated on the actual day but rather a week later. Preparing for this event took a few weeks to plan and countless hours of waiting. Waiting? Yes, waiting because working with the local Women’s Groups (women who all live in the same quariter who work together to process a certain product to sell in town. Ex: taking manioc and processing into gari) they have NO concept of time. This lack of punctuality was not new to me, but having to wait that long was a new concept. For an average meeting, let’s say it was to start at 9am would not start with at least quorum until 11:30 while most turned up around 12:30. Time wasted?

It gets better.

In the meetings details of the event were discussed. How many drinks were needed, what would be the parade route, what VIPs would be invited, etc. The detail that astonished me because it took an hour, yes an hour, to decided were the sandwiches. Here in Benin, there’s really only one of kind of sandwich offered at big events (or on Confort Lines Bus) and that is a purred mix of fish, onion, garlic, oil on bread. So when the discussion of the sandwiches turned into this huge debate basically about where should be buy the bread, how many sandwiches to make, how much oil do we need, and then when someone mentioned adding carrots to the mix that just set everyone off and thus the hour long debate.


Here’s a group of women the night before making the sandwiches. I helped cut onions for 3 hours. My hands smelled awful for days.

It gets better...

Check out this outfit!!!


But really, there's more waiting.

The day of the event, the parade was to start at 8am with all the women’s groups lining up at 7am. After waiting and waiting…and waiting for everyone to turn up the parade started at 11!




More of the parade:



The pomp and circumstance: Here's our Mayor (who Steve swears looks like Willie Stargel. In a housecoat. Without any front teeth.)

But after all the deliberating and waiting, the event was a big success.

Look Mom, I'm Famous

As featured in the Liberty Lake Splash a few weeks back. Check out the website if you don't believe us.



(Click pictures to enlarge)

Sign from Above

I’m guaranteeing the Red Sox repeat as World Series Champions this year. Why you may ask? Because on the day pitchers and catchers reported, I sat down in a restaurant in Cotonou and was presented with this:


Start planning the parade Boston, and I want a seat in the Duck Boat next to Papi.

Beninese Q-Tips

Plucked off a live chicken. Seriously.

Two funny stories

Funny little story 1. There is a woman in town that makes white beans in a cauldron on the side of the road, just after the post office. Very nice, and whenever we want beans she’s our first stop. She is also trying to help us learn more Nagot, and the logical starting place was the word beans, or Abobo. Every time we would walk by, we’d greet her in French and then point to the cauldron and say Abobo. After a few weeks, the French got dropped and we started using Abobo in place of every phrase with varying inflection. Below is a sample transcript:

Us: BEANS! (How are you?)

Her: BEANS! (Very good, and you?)

Us: BEANS! ( Fine, how are the kids?)

Her: BEANS! (Good, thank you for asking.)

Us: BEANS! (And the work?)

Her: BEANS! (It goes. How is your house?)

Us: BEANS! (It is well.)

Her: BEANS! (Would you like any beans?)

Us: BEANS! (No, thank you though.)

Her: BEANS! (Ok, See you later.)

Us: BEANS! (Goodbye)

I’d like to think we could have gone on all day discussing everything from Kenyan violence to the shortcomings of Collateralized Debt Obligations just by yelling BEANS! at eachother. Who knows, maybe we already did.


Funny story 2. So when kids see us, they like to sing the unibo song, unibo being the nagot term for “white skin” (just don’t know where they get the idea, oh well). Translated, it goes a little something like this:

White Skin (Unibo)
Gift Me (Cadeau)
Kala Kala (Kala Kala)
Thank You (Merci)

Well, after the 74,328th time you’ve heard it, you start to have a little fun with the kids. In our case, that includes the occasional full charge sprint at the group of kids, a move that strikes beyond the fear of god into them and they run away mortally terrified the white man is going to come devour them.

Of course, the parents think this is hysterical, but these are the same people who will take a sleeping toddler and hold him right up next to your face, then wake him up so the first thing he sees is my strange white face 4 inches away. And it is usually pretty funny as the kid turns into the Tasmanian Devil, swinging limbs and screaming indecipherably out of terror.
But back to chasing children. On our way home from the market one day on a back road, there were a group of kids by a house about 20 feet away. Seeing the opportunity we run full speed at them and they predictably scatter, but in this case we outran them back to their house.

As we were waiting and laughing with the older kids, one of the youngest, a girl of maybe three (and sporting a just spectacular of a weave) came waddling up trying in vain to pull up her pants that had fallen down while running, and in the middle of her terrified cries gives us a proper Nagot greeting, something like this:

“WWWWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH-E Ka Bo-WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!” Without missing a beat.

Funniest thing we saw all day that day.

Interracial Baseball Bonanza

Before IST, we had a gathering in Tchaourou to celebrate Steve Meyers birthday. As part of the program, we scheduled an interracial baseball scrimmage with our local crew, and here are some of the pictures.


Steve Meyers(L) and Jeff (foreground)

Around the horn
Evan taking a big hack
Aaron Z pitching
Dama a bit in front of the pitch

Batting practice
Broken play ( we get a lot of those here)

Steve being a good coach
Najeem waiting for the pitch

Train Ride

Funny thing about Peace Corps – you come to a far off country with all sorts of notions about working with the local population on development projects, only to find that the local population doesn’t always fit the demographics of what you expect.

Take for example the project Steve is working on with a couple of other volunteers related to the tourism industry in the commune of Grand Popo. Through our efforts to create a more hospitable investment environment there we have struck up a relationship with a local hotel owner Guy (pronounced G-ee), an amiable Frenchman who learned his English -- of all places --working the line at Pontiac in the mid 60s. After working in around the African hospitality industry over the past 30 years, Guy runs a group of hotels throughout Benin (as well as an ostrich farm) and has refurbished a small collection of colonial-era train cars to shuttle visitors around the country. During a recent visit to Grand Popo, he invited us to ride a piece of the railway system with him to get the experience, and it turned out to be a perfect way to see the side of the bush one misses from the highway.

Jaren took in the majestic views


A scene straight out of the Lion King
The Oueme River
A Fullani family

The train cars
View of a village en brousse

After a three hour tour (“a three hour tour”), we disembarked at Bohicon and grabbed a car home feeling all the richer for the opportunity.