Camp Afrique: Annie Goes To Tchaourou

So after Greg's departure, we loaded up onto the NTS bus and headed up to sweet home Tchaourou to show off some real Beninese living.

Arriving after dark and in a rainstorm, we luckily found a few kids who were willing to help us drag our luggage to the house and we were home. Mom did well with the setup - even the latrine at night didn't scare her too much. We slept well in anticipation of greeting dozens the next day.

And greet we did, up and down the main road, every shopkeeper and workshop had to welcome Mom to town and ask if she arrived well.

Ann in the market:

After many hours of this, we arrived at our destination - Steve's Sunday savings group/ Kasim's house for a dinner of AmiWo (pate rouge) and chicken
We were so warmly recieved and can't thank Kasim enough for the hospitality.

Sadly, the next day was Ann's last, but far be it from us to let it go out with anything less than a party. In celebration of our guest we teamed up with the neighbors for a big chicken dinner under the stars. The whole day was spent in preparation of the fest, and of course, here chicken dinner here involves a few extra steps:

Steve killed four chickens to honor his mother-in-law (and asks "what have you killed for your loved ones?") - two to be baked and two to be fried soul-food style (side note: Breaded and deep fried wasa new but VERY well received recipie).

Ann with the kids:
Giving cadeaux

Ann with Eric and Eric's card

Sadly, the next day we returned to Cotonou and said good bye to Ann, who as we assured everyone in town afterwords, arrived home safe and sound.

Good trip all around.

Camp Afrique: The Wedding

In the Tichy family lore, there is a wonderful tradition of renewing vows every 5 years in an interesting way. Seeing as how both coasts -- land and sea -- were already covered, we decided to surprise the folks on this 35 anniversary year with an African wedding.

And first the invitation the day before the wedding, in French and tucked in a box made of a hollowed gourd.

Among the elements that made up the fete were matching traditional tissue outfits, on display below. And no wedding is complete without an officiant, so we turned to one of our dearest friends here, Mr. Steve Myers, who as fortune would have is ordained by the internet (or rather by one of its specific web sites). He was honored to be asked and we were lucky to have him as he prepared a wonderful elocution for the service.

The beachside ceremony saw the bride enter from around a palm tree to the sound of African drums and singing (group pictured below post-ceremony).


Steve elocuting:
After the ceremony, we retired to the patio for drinks and a bit of dancing with the drummers.

The assembled throng

And to top things off, the wedding fell on Greg's birthday and so following a mid-ceremony serenade of "Happy Birthday" (totally unprompted and apparently the only song the drummers knew in English), we too gave the day its proper due.

Camp Afrique: Southern Comfort

Our first visitors, Ann and Greg Tichy. This was a big one as their arrival marked just about our half way point in Benin, and for months had been something we spoke about almost in abstract as something that was going to happen in a then-intangible future time. But then the day came and they were here, and merriment was had.



Arriving with bear hugs and thousands of stories from the past year (and of course "Camp Tichy" shirts), we spent the first leg of our trip in and around Cotonou, giving everyone a chance to get settled and allowing us to take hot showers (So Nice!) at Benin's Hotel Marina. Quite honestly, for the first bit of time the priority was spending time together, so if it seems like we didn't do much it is because catching up was happening.

Day one was the tour of Cotonou and dinner in town. Seeing - and smelling - the urban expanse was certainly an experience, but one that allowed for some introspection on the difference between the developed and developing world.

Day two was our trip to Ganvie, the stilt village. Built in the center of a lake by a tribe fleeing enslavement, it is now a popular destination for those looking for a unique twist on traditional village life. Touring gondola-style, we took in the sights, sounds and smells, and as luck would have it there was a funeral celebration that day which meant all sorts of over the top partying was happing on the lake.


Traditional stilt hut
Business installation
We three in the boat. Only time Greg's knuckles left the seat all say.
Taking a break from sitting in the boat


After getting back to the hotel for some more R and R, we prepared ourselves for the next day's journey out to the seaside village of Grand Popo -- with a little surprise in store. But, before the surprise, we took a day trip to visit Ouidah, the former slave port and birthplace of voodoo.

Here we are under the "door of no return"

Sign that We've Been Here For Some Time

And so it was, with all the running around our one year anniversary in country (July 21) came and went without notice on this here blog. However, a few weeks back Steve had a moment that pretty much summed it all up perfectly. In his own words.

“In the Parakou workstation on a Sunday morning and have a couple of hours to kill before going back to post. Decided to pop in a classic Sunday morning on TNT type movie and sadly neither Rocky 4 nor Shawshank Redemption are anywhere to be found. Instead I opted for the 80s romantic comedy classic When Harry Met Sally, Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan at their respective bests.

So I’m settled in, going through “Ben Small, of the Coney Island Smalls,” the overly peppered paprikash and the ever popular “So I went to her willage,” finally arriving on the legendary diner scene. You know, the one with Meg Ryan seeming to, um, rather enjoying herself and Rob Reiner’s mother requests “what she’s having” (side note: why is it always “Rob Reiner’s mother” and not “Carl Reiner’s wife” when the story of filming that scene is retold?). So I’m sitting there watching the scene and for the life of me I swear this is my internal monologue:

‘Damn, is that a sandwich? Look at that thing. Betcha its pastrami, or maybe corned beef. New York deli, gotta be one of the two. Oh god, rye bread. Gotta be pastrami, definitely. Man could I go for a hot pastrami sandwich right now. With mustard, meat piled all high, salt and garlic soaked in the meat, little cracked pepper on the edge - I can just taste it.’ young, attractive woman is in the throws of carnal bliss and I’m totally fixated on the idea of a deli sandwich.”

So yeah, one year down, one to go.

Peace Corps Benin: The Next Generation

The new volunteers of PSL 21arrived early in July, marking our (PSL 20) official debut as "seasoned volunteers." Without dwelling too much on the arrivals themselves (you'll hear much more over the coming year about some of them, while others will surely be dropping out of the program and thus our hearts), it is worth noting the impact their arrival has had on us. And no better way to do that than quote Rachel Miller, the soon to be departing (PSL 19) volunteer from nearby Guinigourou.

"It's like Super Mario Bros. - they walk off the plane and you become like Mario eating a mushroom. boopbooPboOPbOOPBOOP. Grown up in an instant."

Exactly. However, we must sadly report that we have no pictures of their arrival, so instead we're posting two pictures of highly amusing PSL21 volunteers Kyle and Dennis looking bewildered.