Finals!

This week is the official finals week! Thankfully, I only have two finals this week, two courses had alternatives to the traditional finals. My final for solid and hazardous waste management is today, the other (harder one) is on Friday. I hope to study at least 8-10 hours a day for the Friday exam in Environmental Chemistry. Please be saying lots of prayers for env. chem.!

I really liked my courses this semester, and it makes me slightly afraid of the coming Spring semester. I hope that I end up enjoying the course material as much as I have this semester. I still have one more class to select for the upcoming term, I will probably decide which course to take during winter break.

I will be staying in Bloomington, Indiana for break. I am going to try and work 60 to 80 hours a week, to help save up for a trip to Benin for the summer.

More tomorrow perhaps!

"Bad Hair"

A couple of weeks ago I was in Target getting headbands to hold back my hair. At the end of the aisle I stood in, there was a group of four teenage or pre-teenage Caucasian girls discussing matters related to petroleum-based products. One girl was explaining how a black friend used such products to do her hair - which was a cultural phenomenon to these young ladies. One girl said, I only feel bad for them, because if you have to use this it means you have "bad hair." Another girl shook her head in disagreement, and then the one who uttered the words about bad hair looked over and noticed me. Embarrassed, she covered the side of her face closest to me, and whispered to her friends. They quickly slid away, and I was left feeling personally discriminated against. It also made me paranoid about all Caucasians have latent racist thoughts like that. I found myself uncomfortable, and weary of others as I finished up my shopping. Racism hurts in personal ways.

That girl had essentially said all African American hair is "bad hair."

Good Hair, check it out.

I am back from Benin, but I think I may continue writing about what it means to be in Benin., enjoy my dear friend.

Here in Indiana, I occasionally have a day when I miss my nation (Benin) a great deal. Lately it has been the hollow pounding of tree stumps that my ears are seeking the comfort of. In Benin, Yams (not sweet potatoes, real yams) are boiled, and when somewhat soft pounded into a food called yam pillet. It is like a big doughy ball of goodness, with a flavor similar to mashed potatoes. The process of pounding the yams is the sound that I miss. The Beninese take a large piece of wood, kind of what you'd imagine as a tree trunk, and carve a large bowl, 1.5 foot plus bowl on top and a small base in left on the bottom. They then carve out a large, thick pole that is similar in structure to a cue-tip. This instrument is used to pound the boiled yam in the large bowl thing. The wood on wood makes a sound that gives one a true sense of place. While this sound was one of the things that would wake me up in the middle of the night during Ramadan, when people eat in the dark and fast when daylight comes, by the end of my service, so many aspects of living in community are associated with life around the yam pillet-ing process.

I love Benin, and miss Kalale greatly.

Three-hundred years on...

During my time in Ghana I took some time to visit the world heritage sites of Cape Coast Castle and Elmina Castle. Both really brought about an understanding of the slave trade and the experience of becoming a slave for different colonial nations. I recommend visiting there sites, they are interesting and guides do an excellent job of bringing history to life.
The castles' attributes tell something of the slave trade too, though. There are several dungeons, those that were for holding men or women slaves, the trapdoor the inten used to sneak slaves up to sleep with, the churches that sat on top of the dungeons- it all tells quite a story. But there is one attribute that stuck with me, that shocked me more than anything else that I came upon in the Castles... You see, I do not have a very home sense of smell, or I do not have the ability to smell things easily. Upon entrance into a women's dungeon at Elmina Castle I noticed this smell. It assaulted my senses, and made me want to leave the chamber quickly. But the guide spoke about the experience of the people, the hundreds of women who were crowded into a relatively small space. Like all the dungeons I'd seen, I'm pretty sure this one had the drainage system but through the floor. It was meant to allow for the excrements of slaves to flow into the nearby sea during the three months they were held before dying or being shipped off. It seemed normal in every way, except the stench. I wondered he they'd just neglected cleaning this dungeon well, and such. Soon the guide answered my mental queries. The dungeon smelled because the drainage system couldn't drain bodily fluids that well. It helped some, but eventually slaves ended up standing in their own excrements for the rest of the time they remained in the dungeons. In this dungeons womens stood upon feces, urine, and the blood from their period. I realized the latter was part of what I smelled probably- the stench of blood. He explained that even though they tried to clean the cell, the odor would not leave the space. Three-hundred years on, this particular cell still smells, reminding us of the stench the act of slavery has left upon human history. May God help up to never repeat such acts again.

My neighborhood friends - the trees

Greetings all! I just got back from my holiday vacation in the culturally-rich nation of Ghana. I enjoyed the jollof rice with say cabbage, jovial hellos from the locals, and the national pride of the Ashante... And much more. But there is something that stuck out to me, that wiped some of the glimmer away from my respective of Ghana - trees.
As I made my way northward in the nation, I find myself utterly startled by the absen nature of the Ghanaian landscape. In Benin we're always told the deforestation is a problem that affects our country. We're told that is we do not plant trees, soon winds will displace up with their force, that the sun burn upon up still more harshly. In Ghana all these possible consequences are experienced. In Benin people often forcefully shew you into shady areas when the sun's around; in Ghana, people stood in the middle of the road or next to a boutique but felt the same thing - scorching heat. Perhaps there great people were use to the sun so thought nothing of it. But with the bit of Beninese I have governing my worldview, I was startled by their willingness to stand in heat. Shade is a value in Benin, Fruit from the trees (mangoes and such) are valued in Benin- the tree has so many positive functions. The lack of trees sent my mind and heart hurrying back to Benin, and my little house, where palm and mango trees are my actual neighbors. I love Ghana, but I love trees, always and everywhere; I hope the two can work towards being united a bit more. :)
Ghana's population is far greater than Benin's, I suppose that is the cause of its people carving landscapes into blank horizons. Whatever the case I say cheers to reforestation and Benin. I'm glad to be back in a land that depends upon trees retaining life. Love until... :) happy New Year, and Merry Christmas! :)

The motorcycle men from the bush

A couple of fellows go zooming by, on a crowded, public road. I turn to my friend, bewildered a little by the speed and crazy sounds coming from the mortocycle men. He smiles and says, "They're Peuhl, they're from the bush. They so rarely get to experience the 'big' village life that they just get so excited and happy about it."
I can't help but agree with my friend - we've got to excuse they're recklessness because of their contagious joy.

But who are these men? What are the Peuhl?
Peulh are an ethnic minority in the country of Benin. They are often mistreated in parts of Benin. In Kalale, my village, the Peuhl are actually the majority. The Peuhl are thought to be 70% of the population! In my village these semi-nomadic people are often among the wealthiest citizens, with a single cow costing about 333,000 FCFA! The Peuhl provide me, and much of my region, with fresh milk, cheese, and meat. They raise livestock for a living. Young boys start following a cow herd at a pretty young age. I've seen children who look to be seven years old trotting after a cattle or two.

The Peuhl often live in rural communities, on the fringe of villages and beyond. For this reason, when they come into town for market days and such, the busy-ness of village life can't help but tickle out some giggles of delight.

New Year?

While in Niger, I didn't get the chance to post as much as I would have liked to, but fear not, I'll try catching us up over the next few days. But for now I'll bring you to my present state of being...

Tomorrow I will begin participation in a workshop called Designing Behavior Change. About ten other volunteers and accompaning Beninese work partners will be attending the conference. While I'm excited about the practical techniques that I'll pick-up at the workshop, I'm apprehensive about what tomorrow signifies. Tomorrow is like the first day of school for my work life in Benin... What do I mean by that? The day before schools starts you're excited about seeing your school buddies again, eating cafeteria food, learning new things, but you're also nervous about the new teacher, who exactly will be in your class, if you can handle the work load, and if the cafeteria will still serve diced chicken. In the land of Benin for a Natural Resource Advisor October is the month in which work bursts forth like algae blooms. October is the month when school tends to start, thus school environmental clubs become part of our schedule and we start hanging out with some amazing young people. The rains begin to cease their falling, and in their place people begin dropping seeds into their gardening terrain; people gardening means you start advising and forming gardening groups, which likely means meeting new people. In short, tomorrow will be the beginning of a busy work season. I'll go to the conference get back to post and throw myself into the start of work load October brings,whilst continuing my waste management activities. October marks the beginning of a new work year, and just like the night before the first day of school, brings shivers of excitement and fears about one's possible social or task related failing. God willing, this work year will be a-OK, as it has been each school year.