I was surprised at how much work it was and how
expensive it is to plan a trip to Benin. As a volunteer, Peace Corps takes care
of getting you your visa, money, airline tickets, vaccinations, anti-malarial
prophylaxis, and they provide for your in-country health care. Now we are on our own, and I had to arrange
for all these things myself.
Our airfare was the most significant
cost of the trip. We paid about $2000
each to get there: $780 to get to Paris
and another $1200 from Paris to Cotonou (both round trip). Just a few years ago
Air Afrique, Sabena, and Air France had direct flights to Cotonou from Paris,
Brussels, or other African Cities like Abidjan and Dakar. Today Air Afrique and Sabena no longer exist
so Air France has a monopoly and is charging exorbitant prices in my
opinion. Another reason why it was so
expensive was because the US dollar is very weak now ($1.20= 1 Euro or $1= 540
CFA), and because we went in July (peak season). Since we were paying a lot of money to get to Benin, and we had
to pass through Paris, we made one vacation into two, and we spent two weeks in
France before going to Benin. The other
less expensive possibility to get to Benin is to fly into Accra, Ghana on Air
Ghana. I think it costs between $800
and $1000 for a direct flight from New York but African airlines are not known
for reliability and safety. The other
disadvantage is that you will have to get visas for Ghana and Togo in addition
to Benin. You will also have to suffer
a very long bush taxi ride to get to Cotonou unless you break it up with a stop
in Lomé, Togo. I think it takes a full day to get to Cotonou from Accra
in a bush taxi.
After getting your plane tickets,
the next step is to get your vaccinations updated. Make sure you bring your WHO card if you have one to show your
doctor which vaccinations you’ve already received and when. Your best bet is to find a travel clinic or
a doctor who specializes in travel medicine.
If your doctor or insurance company can’t find one for you, call your
local department of health. Only
doctors who specialize in tropical medicine usually have vaccinations specific
to tropical countries such as yellow fever and typhoid. It is better that you see a doctor who
specializes in travel medicine because they keep up to date on what
vaccinations are required for specific countries around the world. If you can’t find one where you are, it’s
more likely you’ll find one in a large city.
Some
vaccinations like Yellow Fever, Hep A, and Hep B are good for 10 years or more
so I didn’t need those shots. I needed
only polio, meningitis, tetanus, and typhoid, which are good for about two
years. We took an oral form of the
typhoid vaccine, which my doctor said was more effective than the injectable
version. Your doctor will also have to
give you a prescription for your malaria prophylaxis.
When I asked my family doctor if most insurance
companies pay for travel related vaccinations, he said “no.” I called my insurance company, and they said
the same thing. I was very worried that
our vaccinations would cost us a fortune because Cara needed all the
vaccinations. Luckily, my travel doctor
informed me that insurance companies usually pay for all vaccinations except
for the diseases that don’t exist in the US.
The catch is that the doctor can’t say that the vaccination is only for
travel purposes. He or she has to
submit the claim saying that you need the vaccinations here is the U.S. The vaccinations that you need for Benin
that aren’t given automatically in the US are Hep A, Hep B, polio, and
meningitis). Check whether or not your
doctor is willing to do that before you go for an appointment, or you could end
up paying a lot of money. The
vaccinations we did have to pay for were yellow fever, typhoid, and the malaria
prophylaxis. Our doctor prescribed a
relatively new anti-malarial drug called Malarone. It’s supposed to have fewer side effects than Mefloquin, but the
disadvantage is that you have to take it every day, and it’s easier to forget
than Mefloquin, which is taken only once a week. We took Malarone and we had no problems. We had to start taking it two days before we
left and continue one week after we left.
Because our doctor did not sell Malarone or the oral typhoid vaccine and
our insurance didn’t cover it, we bought them online from a Canadian pharmacy
where we saved a bit of money over getting it at a pharmacy.
To get your visa from the Beninese
embassy you need to have your yellow fever vaccination updated. I was appalled when I found out that the
Beninese embassy increased its fee from $40 to $100 for a Visa for Americans
only, with no explanation. After doing
some research, I found out that the American Embassy charges $100 for Beninese
citizens to apply for a visa to enter the US.
I think the American Embassy increased its fee not long after 9/11, and
the Beninese Embassy is just catching up with us. Not only is $100 a huge amount of money for most Beninese, but
they are often denied a visa and their $100 is not refunded! After hearing this I was not so angry about
the high visa fee we had to pay. The
visa is good for a year and a half and is good for multiple entries. You have to send your passport, a passport
picture, your WHO card (not a copy), an application, a money order, and a
postage paid envelope for the embassy so they can return your passport and WHO
card to you. I got mine back a week
after I sent it.
Another thing I had to do before we
left was get travel and medevac insurance.
I wanted travel insurance that offered cancellation benefits because we
paid so much for the plane tickets. The
insurance cost us $200 for both of us for our month trip. If we got sick, if a close relative died, we
lost our job, or if the state department issued a warning not to travel to Benin, our airfare would be
reimbursed to us. As a Peace Corps
Volunteer I was grateful for the medical care I had available to me. When you go back on your own and you get
hurt, the embassy medical staff is not available to you. Health care in Benin is still very primitive
so it’s important that you get medevac insurance. If you break a leg, and you catch the next first class seat out
to Paris, you’ll pay a lot, but it won’t put you in bankruptcy. On the other hand, if you have a serious
head injury, you will not want to attempt brain surgery in Benin. You will want a private plane to fly you to
London or Paris with a doctor to accompany you, it could cost well over
$50,000. For that reason we got
$100,000 per person medevac insurance (and a lot of peace of mind) that was
included in the $100 per person fee.
The insurance also included other benefits such as reimbursement for
emergency medical expenses, reimbursement for lost luggage, missed flight
connections, and delays over six hours.
Our total cost just to get to Benin was a whopping $2,520 per
person: $2000 for airfare, $300 for
vaccinations and Malarone, $120 for the visa with postage and the photo, and
$100 each for travel/medevac insurance.
For more details related to planning a trip to Benin including useful
web links, see my travel page on Fon is Fun.
As you may know, one of the most popular means of
transportation in Benin is the Zemidjan (Zem or Zemi) or motorcycle taxi. Often it is the only way to get around
unless you spend a lot of money to rent a taxi. In Cotonou you may have to wait a long time to find a regular
taxi (a car) so you will invariably end up taking a Zem at some point during
your trip. Traffic in Cotonou is often
chaotic so you will want to be wearing a helmet. The Peace Corps is so serious about this that they send
volunteers home immediately if they are caught not wearing a helmet on a
Zem. When you go to Benin you should
either bring a bicycle helmet or arrange to get a helmet from Peace Corps. They often have extras and if you know a
volunteer, they can usually get one for you.
Getting money was a big problem for us on our
trip. Make sure you bring American
Express traveler’s checks, a Visa Card, and American Cash or Euro cash in case
of emergencies. Luckily we had all
three, which saved us a lot of problems.
Our money problems started with our flight that was
delayed four hours in Paris, which meant we got to Cotonou close to midnight,
after the change office had closed.
Luckily we had some Euro cash, which we used to take a taxi to the
hotel. Credit cards are accepted in
only a handful of places in the entire country. Those places are a few banks where you can get a cash advance,
and the more expensive hotels and restaurants in Cotonou. For everything else, you need cash in
Benin. We arrived on a Friday night,
and I was confident that we would be able to find an ATM, a bank, or change
office that would be able to change our traveler’s checks on Saturday.
Saturday morning we set out to exchange money: a
task that would be easy is any country that is used to having tourists, but we
found this not to be the case at all in Benin.
I heard that there was one ATM in Cotonou that took American ATM cards,
but we could not find it after looking and asking people for almost an hour. I heard that Ecobank was open on Saturday so
we headed there. We got to the main
office of Ecobank and found it was closed on Saturday. The guard informed me that several branch
offices of Ecobank are open on Saturday and he gave us directions. We found the branch office, and they told us
that the only place where we could get traveler’s checks cashed was at the main
office (where we just were) which wouldn’t be open until Monday!! Arrhhh!
I had $160 in American cash so I confidently approached the window
expecting to be able to exchange it, just to tide us over until Monday. The woman quickly told me that they only
accept $100 bills, and they could not accept my $20 bills! It seemed unbelievable to me considering how
poor Benin is to have a rule like that.
Perhaps that would make sense in Geneva, Monaco, or Tokyo, but in
Cotonou!?? I knew we could easily get
our twenties cashed on the black market in Jonquet, a neighborhood in Cotonou,
or in Dantokpa, Cotonou’s biggest market.
There are always dozens of money changers there siting on benches with
stacks of cash and a calculator in their hand waiting to exchange cash. On our way to Jonquet we found a change
office. They had a sign that said they
exchanged traveler’s checks! When we
got there the man said they will exchange traveler’s checks soon, but
not yet. We were able to cash the $160
we had luckily.
Not being able to cash our traveler’s checks was a
big inconvenience because we were planning on leaving Cotonou and not returning
until at least a week later. We had to
be in Allada for our welcoming party on Sunday, and now we had to come back to
Cotonou on Monday to get money. Monday
morning I planned on an hour and a half taxi ride to Cotonou, an hour or so to
get our money, and we’d be back in Allada by 1:00 PM or so…. Again, this was
not the case. We got to Ecobank at
11:00 AM, and we were greeted by a line that went almost out the door. I found the window that said “Change de Cheques de Voyage,” and we
waited, and waited, and waited (for an hour!).
When we finally reached the cashier, I gave him my passport and the
checks. He asked me if I had an account
at the bank and I said “no.” He said,
“sorry, we only exchange traveler’s checks for people who have accounts here.” I was dumbfounded and furious. I asked him how this could be. Why would anyone who had an account here
want to exchange traveler’s checks?
People who need to exchange traveler’s checks are from other countries
and therefore would not have an account here!”
He gave me a sorry look and could offer no explanation. I was so angry I stormed out of the
bank.
I knew other banks would accept traveler’s checks so
we headed to the Bank of Africa. I
asked where we could exchange traveler’s checks, and we were lead to the proper
window. I handed the woman my passport
and traveler’s checks. She gave me a
look, handed them back and pointed to the hours on the window. It was 12:10 and she closed at 12:00. You have to come back at 3:00 PM she told
me. ARHHH! Both Cara and I were furious and thoroughly frustrated by this
point. As a volunteer I never had
problems with money because Peace Corps always deposited my money in CFA into
my bank account, and I would then come to Cotonou to pick it up no
problem. Since nothing had to be
converted, it was much easier. Cara and
I were angry because what we had intended to take half a day would now take the
entire day, and we had only a few thousand CFA (i.e. a few U.S. dollars)
left. I knew that all the banks closed
at 12:00 or 12:30 so we had no choice but wait until 3:00.
We killed some time at the Peace Corps office and
got some lunch before arriving back at the bank at 2:55. We were first in line as the doors
opened. My frustration level had
increased to a dangerous level as well as my fear that we would be screwed if
we could not cash our traveler’s checks.
I politely passed my passport and traveler’s checks neatly tucked inside
to the cashier. She looked at them and
then said, “ Where are the receipts?”
You can’t cash traveler’s checks without the receipts.” My blood instantly began to boil. My temperature rose about 10 degrees and
adrenaline raced through my veins. I
was so angry because we were in Cotonou, and the receipts were in our hotel in
Allada. “ What!!, ” I said grabbing back my passport and
traveler’s checks, “ You don’t understand!”
You are supposed to carry your receipts separate from your traveler’s
checks because if they are stolen, you need the receipts to get them back. That is the whole idea of carrying
traveler’s checks!! If I carry the
receipts with my checks and they are stolen, my money is gone!” She repeated herself saying, “I cannot
exchange your checks unless you have the receipts.” I was so angry I yelled in French, “ You people are a bunch of
imbeciles!!,” and hurried out of the bank with Cara.
We had no choice but to continue on to the next
bank. It was 3:00 PM, and the banks
didn’t close for another two to three hours so we were going to get money if
was the last thing we did. Next we went
to Financial Bank and believe it or not, we were able to cash our traveler’s
checks with no problem and no receipts were necessary. We were elated that this fiasco was finally
over, and we could get on with our vacation.
In retrospect I can’t blame myself for blowing up at
the lady at the bank, but I would go back and apologize if I could. She and everyone else there probably thought
I was a freak, but they had no idea what we had been through, and what she was
doing to us. I felt as if our safety
and our vacation were being threatened if we could not get money. I was also frustrated about not being able
to do something as simple as cashing traveler's checks at a bank in a capital
city. I think that every westerner who
spends time in West Africa experiences similar situations where (s)he gets
progressively more and more frustrated with any given West African inefficiency
a until (s)he blows up. There is
actually a name created by Americans living in West Africa for infinitely
frustrating situations like this. It’s
called WAWA (West Africa Wins Again).
As I mentioned before, credit cards are accepted
almost nowhere in Benin and cash rules.
You know this is the case whenever you stand in line at the bank. You’ll see business owners pull huge wads of
cash out of briefcases stuffed with money to deposit, and you’ll see the
cashiers constantly doling out huge sums of cash to customers. I have definitely taken credit cards for
granted and have learned to appreciate how easy they make life, especially when
you travel to countries where they are readily accepted.
When I was a Peace Corps Volunteer I didn’t have
much money to spend, and I was only one person so I didn’t have to carry much
cash on me. While we were in Benin, we
spent about $100 a day for both of us for all our expenses which included
hotel, food, transportation, souvenirs, and gifts. This required us to have $800 in cash on us at times! Carrying that much cash or leaving it in the
hotel was unnerving to say the least. I
carried so much because it was so hard to get money changed, and there was no
other option. The only place you can
exchange traveler’s checks in Benin is in the large cities such as Cotonou,
Bohicon, and Parakou. Every night I had
to count our cash to make sure we had enough, and I had to plan carefully the
next time when we’d be able to get to one of those cities when the bank would
be open.
Our cash ran low after the first week so I had to
change more traveler’s checks in Bohicon at the Bank of Africa. The bank was packed. The teller told me to have a seat and he
would call me when he could. Every half
hour I went up to the window and say “c’est à bientôt, non?” (you’re
coming soon, right?) He would usually
shrug his shoulders and say, “Ah, oui, je viens” ( yea, I’m
coming). After waiting more than an
hour, I finally broke down and offered the man a bribe so we could get out of
there before old age set in. He refused
it politely and again assured me that he would help me “soon.” It was another maddening situation because
we had no idea how long it would take and we were thoroughly disgusted with
banks by this point. At least were
sitting while we waited. When he
finally called me to the office in the back, teller had to make a phone call to
Cotonou to get the exchange rate. The
phone was busy so I had to wait even longer.
While I was
waiting I thought I’d try to educate him about tourism. I explained in a friendly way that Benin
needs tourism to help the economy and that he could help Benin by exchanging
money for tourists faster. I explained
that tourists spend a lot of money to get here, and they usually don’t have a
lot of time because they come for only a week or two when there are so many
interesting things to do here. For that
reason they don’t want to spend several hours in the bank. If they do, they will tell their friends how
difficult it was to get money, and they will not want to come to Benin. His response to me was repeating several
times, “you’re really in a hurry ” and,
“This takes time you know. I’m
very busy. Did you see how busy I
am? You’re lucky I made time to help
you because with all the work I have, someone else may have told you to come
back after lunch.”
Luckily I remembered to bring the receipts and
despite the bad exchange rate and high fees, we had cold hard CFA’s in a little
over two hours. Not so bad for Benin I
suppose, considering what we went through in Cotonou…. Near the end of our trip
we ran out of traveler’s checks so I used our credit card to get a cash advance
at Financial bank. Luckily that was a
painless process.
The need to carry so much cash all the time and the difficulty to exchange money is a perfect reason for tourists not to come to Benin. It is sad because Benin is in so much need of tourism to help their economy. The difficulty exchanging money, in addition to the expense of airfare, visas, vaccinations, anti-malarial medicine, and travel insurance, creates a strong deterrent to tourism. The positive side to there being so little tourism is that everything you see and do is authentically Beninese. There is no such thing as “catering to tourists” in Benin.
Our most memorable moment of our trip was when we arrived in Allada at my neighbor’s housing compound, and we got out of the taxi. Almost all of my former neighbors, about 30 to 40 people, were waiting there to greet us, and they all went crazy! They came running as soon as they saw us coming in the taxi. They yelled and screamed and jumped up and down. They hugged and kissed us and greeted us for at least 10 minutes before we could even sit down. When we finally sat down, they kept coming up to touch me to see that I was really there, and to make sure that they weren’t dreaming. I too had to reassure myself that I was really there and was not dreaming. They frequently called out “Ohh Ganhado,” (my Fon name) or “Ohh Cala” (“Cara,” as best they could pronounce it) as way of continuing to greet us. They even gave us a beautiful bouquet of wild flowers. I had told them in letters several times that I was going to come back to Benin soon, but each time I had to change my plans. Plans changed due to major events in my life such as changing jobs, getting married, and buying a house, which prevented me from going sooner. Some people told me later that they didn’t believe that I would ever come back, and they would believe it when they saw me there with their own eyes.
Everyone was so excited, and I was
glad to see so many familiar faces. So
many faces looked different too, as all of the numerous children were now seven
years older. Small children had become
men and women and the toddlers had become big children. Any child under seven I had never met
before. I had some catching up to do to
find out their names and who their siblings and parents were. Later I found out that a few people moved
away, and a few died. A few girls moved
away to live with their husbands as is tradition. A few women left because their polygamous husbands were not
taking good enough care of them, which is the equivalent of a divorce. The advantage of the extended family is that
when someone dies, there is always someone around to take the kids. Pierre died of
a strange illness, and his brother Jean was nice enough to take care of his
kids, since his wife had left Pierre with the kids before he died.
They planned an elaborate welcoming party / ceremony to welcome us, which started as soon as we arrived. I had been in contact with my friend Nestor since I left, and recently we communicated by e-mail because a few years ago Allada got e-mail access! Since February when we bought our tickets, I informed Nestor we were coming, and he informed everyone else. We were grateful to him because he organized the party. He promised that it would be big, and big it was! I sent him a list of names of about a dozen Beninese friends of mine from town that I wanted him to invite, and he did.
Since they are all very poor, I promised to bring
most of the food and pay for the drinks.
All told, we probably spent only $70, and it was enough to feed 50
people because a dollar goes a long way in Benin. They offered to provide the fish, as no party is complete without
meat or fish. Meat and fish are the
most sought after foods, since the average Beninese person can’t afford to eat
it every day. To get the food, that
morning we went to Dantokpa, the biggest market in all of West Africa from what
I’ve seen. When we went it was only our
first day in Benin, and it was Cara’s first African market experience. It was like taking someone who’s never skied
before to the top on an expert slope and saying, “Come on, follow me!” Nonetheless, she did great. Dantokpa is the epitome of chaos. It is enormous and it is so crowded that you
can barely move. People were always
calling us to buy from them and occasionally tugged at our arms to try to make
a sale. We hired a pouss-pousse man to pull a two-wheeled cart around the market so we
could carry all our items around and then we found a taxi to take us to
Allada.
We bought 25 kg of rice, onions, bread, cookies,
beans, hot pepper, charcoal, and some other things we needed, like bottled
water, towels, plates, spoons and forks.
We bought towels because in all but the most expensive hotels in Benin
you are lucky if you get one worn out towel.
We got plates and utensils to use when eating street food. If the food is kept covered and is hot, you
are not in danger of getting sick, but often the plates and utensils are rinsed
in the same dishwater for the entire day, and
you can get stomach bugs from that. By
having our own plates and utensils that we knew were clean and dry, we were
able stay healthy. It took some time to
get all these things because we had to walk quite a bit to find everything
(with our pousse- pousse man’s help
of course). We had to bargain for most
items and then wait for the tanti to find us changie (change). Dantokpa
was even more busy and chaotic than I remembered seven years ago. It was so busy that we could barely cross
the road with out being killed. The
only way to cross was to wait until several other people arrived to cross with
you. Then you could stop traffic by
walking out in front of the cars and motorcycles.
When we arrived in Allada on
Saturday night, it was only the pre-party.
The real party wasn’t until Sunday afternoon. Nonetheless, everyone was
very excited and giddy. On Sunday many
women in the compound worked together and cooked all afternoon. The kids who weren’t dancing helped serve
people. We were treated to a
traditional Fon welcome where about ten kids had rehearsed and performed at
least six different dances for us, accompanied by singing. They painted themselves and put on grass
skirts that they made for the occasion.
Everyone sang and danced to drum music until about 9 PM. They sang songs in which they welcomed us by
name, and they even wrote a beautiful welcome speech for us. I was glad I brought a video camera to
capture a lot of it. Nestor was also
glad because I let him do the taping, which he said he enjoyed. We ate dinner with them (pâte with
sauce of course), and we went back to our hotel at 10:00 PM.
On Sunday they repeated the same ceremony with just as much energy. They even added a few new things such as a magic trick. One of my Beninese friends from town tried to figure out how the magic trick worked, and when he couldn’t reveal the secret, everyone went crazy. They did an interesting dance that was similar to the Conga line but more elaborate. I was surprised because I had never seen any of these dances despite having lived there over two years. When the kids were done with their dances, everyone else got up and danced too. The Beninois love it when the Yovos (white people) try to do their dances, so we did our best. All my friends from town were there and we ate rice with sauce and fish. To drink we had Beninese beer, sodabi (strong whiskey made locally from palm wine), and soda. During my seven-year absence we sent toys to the kids at Christmas, and we sent about $100 each year for the kids’ school supplies and school fees. I’m sure they would have welcomed us warmly even if we hadn’t sent gifts, but it sure doesn’t hurt to help keep your memory alive.
The
party went on from about 4:00 PM until we got tired around 8:30 PM. We left with, Patricia, the current Peace
Corps Volunteer in Allada and her two friends to debrief at a local buvette (bar). It was great to talk to them and reconnect with Peace Corps
life. It was interesting for me to hear
their stories, hear what their problems, concerns and frustrations were. They were all similar to the things I had
gone through as a volunteer and it brought back a lot of memories.
After, Cara and I took Zemis back to our hotel, which was located just outside Allada on the road to Togudo (a small village). They actually started building the hotel before I left, and I was very cynical. It was very big, and I kept asking myself, “why would anyone want to come to Allada and stay in a hotel. It’s true that the king of Allada lives in Togudo and has elaborate ceremonies at least once a year that attract visitors, but how could such a large hotel stay in business? I was sure it would not survive past a few years, but I was very glad to find out that it was still around. The hotel probably has about 30 rooms and three floors. They rooms are clean, have comfortable beds, there is air conditioning, a TV, and bathrooms with running water for 11,000 CFA or about $22 a night; a very good deal indeed. There is a decent restaurant where we ate breakfast every day, and we had dinner there a few times. If it weren’t for this hotel, we’d have to stay at a friend’s house and have much less comfortable accommodations. If that were the case, Cara probably would not have wanted to come to Benin as we ended up staying in Allada for eight out of the 13 nights we spent in Benin. I was told that the owner of the hotel often rents the hotel out for large conferences and makes money that way as there are very few tourists who stay here.
We spent Monday in Cotonou trying desperately to get
more money, and the next several days we spent visiting my old friends, most of
whom I worked with. Cara and I kept a
busy schedule making rounds visiting my friends individually. As a volunteer I gave seminars on basic
business management skills to small business owners. I then consulted with them one on one to encourage them to
implement what I had taught them and discuss their concerns. My most serious students were Jean, the wood
sculptor, Rene and Augustin the pineapple producers, Alice the weaver, Solange,
the seamstress, and Arthur, the carpenter.
Cara and I went to their workshops and hung out with them individually,
which took two days.
I was happy to see that most of them had improved their businesses at least slightly. Some had improved more than others, but I can’t say how much of the improvement is due to what I did for them. I asked them if what I did was helpful and they all said “yes,” enthusiastically, which was encouraging, but I can’t help but wonder if they were just being nice. I had taught them how to do basic bookkeeping, and I asked them if they were still keeping books. They all said “ yes,” but I did not ask for proof. I still feel I received more than I gave in non-monetary forms of course. As far as results of my work are concerned, I feel that the relationships I made had a greater impact on people than the skills I gave them. In my opinion, this is the nature of Peace Corps.
Rene and
Augustin had done exceptionally well.
When I was working with them, they were only producing pineapples. I enjoyed working with them because they
were very motivated, disciplined, and intelligent. They headed a cooperative that had several large pineapple
fields. I helped them plan their
production, work on bookkeeping, marketing, distribution, and I tried to help
them estimate their yields by mapping their fields. Now they have a pineapple-drying factory where they produce and
export dried pineapple and pineapple juice!
I can claim little credit for their advances because it was made
possible with funding from ADF, a quasi-non governmental American agency. I believe that along with the funding, ADF
or perhaps a French organization helped them make connections to get them
started exporting to Europe. The
factory is very simple with about 14 people working there. Everything is done by hand, and they have a
limited production, but it is very impressive for a private industry in
Benin. I was glad to hear them say my
training helped them get started. More
importantly, the fact that they received training from me looked good on paper
when they applied for funding from ADF.
I wonder, though if I did much more for
them than look good on paper.
Peace Corps has three goals. They are to teach Americans about developing countries, to have Americans bring that knowledge home to share with other Americans, and to teach people in developing countries useful skills and knowledge to help them advance. Peace Corps’s puts more emphasis on being a cross-cultural organization and on creating good will PR for America than it does on improving the economies of the countries where they have volunteers. This is evident by the fact that they don’t provide volunteers with any resources besides an initial three-month training, and they don’t require volunteers to have extensive experience. As was the case with me, most volunteers are just out of college and have limited experience in the fields that they are assigned to work in. They usually don’t have any experience working in the developing world either. Volunteers are for the most part, on their own to figure out how to help people when they are sent to their posts when their training is over.
For developing countries to make rapid advances, the people need capital in addition to training. Peace Corps offers only one part of that equation. It is a constant source of frustration for volunteers because there are so many other development organizations in Benin that offer training and capital. I was reminded of this because Jean, Alice, Arthur, and Solange, were still asking me to help them try to get financing from an international aid agency. I promised to send them some information on one that I know of. Often the Beninese are only looking for money, supplies, and machinery alone, which is not a good solution to their poverty. Some organizations just give money and supplies, without training, and in the long-term that money is usually not well spent because the people don’t know how to manage it. As a volunteer I had to remind myself that I was limited by the fact that all I had to offer the people was training and encouragement. I had to remind myself that due to those limitations, the results of my work would be very slow. For these reasons it wasn’t surprising to me that the people I helped for the most part made only limited progress. When I was a volunteer it was difficult not being able to see quick and measurable results from my efforts. Despite the fact that the people were not well off financially because of my work, I was still very happy to see that they remembered me and claimed that what I did for them was helpful seven years later.
I was very flattered that so many people in Allada
remembered me. I was glad my favorite
food sellers who sell on the side of the road in Allada were still there. It was great to see the surprised reaction
of my abobosato (rice and beans lady)
and that of Ali, my Shwarma man, when they recognized me. There was no one I remembered who did not
remember me. Because I was one of three
white people who lived in Allada at the time, everyone knew me, and I knew
relatively few people. When I was in a
Yovo supermarket in Cotonou, an employee walked up to me and said, “do you
remember me?” I did. It was someone I knew from Allada, and I was
shocked that in a city as big as Cotonou, I would run into someone from Allada
I knew seven years ago.
On my trip back to Benin I spoke to Fon to everyone,
and it was a lot of fun. Both they and
I were surprised that I didn’t forget much of it. I forgot how crazy people go when they realize that the Yovo speaks Fon.
Strangers did the same thing as always when they heard me speak
Fon. They would be surprised and go on
and on about how unbelievable it is that a Yovo speaks their language. Then they would all give me an informal test
to see if it was really true. They
would ask me all sorts of questions in Fon and usually I understood and could
answer correctly. Sometimes they would
lose me, but they we’re just as happy.
There were usually other people around, and they would stop and listen
or join in the questioning. When I was
waiting in line for an hour at Ecobank, I started speaking Fon to someone in
line next to me to pass the time. I
swear everyone waiting in lines (probably 50 people) were all staring at me and
listening because I was speaking Fon.
If I really wanted to get everyone going I explained to them in Fon that
I was initiated to several Vodun cults, and I showed them my magic gris-gris
ring. I also told them that I know how
to read Fah (an traditional African form of divination) and their jaws usually
hit the ground. Then they would shake
my hand and say, “Vraiment, tu es un vrai
Beninois!” (Wow, you are a true
Beninese person). After a few days it
got tiring speaking Fon because of all the attention that it draws to me. Sometimes I would just speak in French if I
wasn’t in the mood for the “Ah, e se
fongbe” (Ah, my god, he speaks Fon!) routine. Most of the time, I have to admit, I enjoyed the attention it
brought me.
Cara and I visited so many people that after a few days it got tiring. I had to say hi to my old landlord, to the old guy who always said hi to me on the road that lead to my house, to my old counterpart (the Beninese person that Peace Corps arranged for me to work with), my elder Italian friend who is still living in Allada, the veterinarian who took care of my dog, and my friend Korantin who helped me research Vodun. Cara and I felt rushed because along with visiting so many people, we wanted to see several of the interesting places in southern Benin. I also wanted her to see a few Vodun ceremonies. We had planned on going up north, but we had already lost a day in Cotonou trying to get money changed, and Cara was very nervous about traveling in bush taxis, which can be pretty scary at times. It takes a full day to get up to Natitingou (if all goes well) and a full day (if all goes well) to get back. Because of the bush taxis, the long distance, and because we would have only two days time to stay up there, we decided not to go in order to have a more relaxed time in southern Benin. We also had also promised a friend of mine that I would export to him several local Beninese dogs that are known in the U.S. as Basenjis. I knew that would take at least two days to carry out and didn’t want to be too rushed. The farthest north we got was Abomey, the capital of the Dahomey kingdom, where we spent a day and a night. It’s about an hour and a half bush taxi ride from Allada.
My Beninese friend Nestor who is 21, has lived in Allada all his life, but had never been anywhere besides the villages around Allada, Cotonou, and the village in the Mono where his family is from. We invited him to come with us to Ganvie, Ouidah, Gran-Popo, and Cotonou on our last day. Because we like him a lot, we wanted to spend more time with him and it was a good opportunity for him to see more of his own country. He also accompanied us when we took Zemis out to Dekanme and crossed lake Aheme in pirogues to visit Bopa.
Cara and I had my old Fah priest read our Fah. Fah is the equivalent to Tarot Card reading,
but instead of using cards, he interprets the way tree seedpods connected to a
string fall when tossed to the ground.
I was initiated to a Vodun cult called Ja. Since I have not been around for the annual
ceremonies, Nestor’s dad, who is the priest of this cult, suggested that I make
an offering. I paid 5,000 CFA (10$) to
have him do a small ceremony. With the
money he bought sodabi, and a chicken, with a bit left over for his
services. A few other Ja initiates and
I drank some sodabi, and then sprayed some from our mouths on the bottles
containing the powder and spirit of Ja.
He then consulted Fah using cowry shells to determine whether or not my
sacrifice was acceptable to Ja. Luckily
it was, so it was time to kill the chicken.
He slit its throat, as this is the way all animals are killed in
Benin. This way it is easier for him to
drip the blood on the bottles (the Ja altar) because animal blood is what all
Vodun gods want. By making an offering
and animal sacrifice, I appeased the god to ensure my good fortune. Ja’s powers are specifically against witches
and snakebites. Since I was initiated I
have never been bitten by a snake or attacked by a witch, so Ja must be
protecting me. My friend Korantin took us to see the Gambara Vodun dancers
perform a ceremony in a near-by village called Agongblame. A few of the dancers fell into a trance,
which was very interesting to see. We paid a visit to the king of Allada at his
royal palace, which is in walking distance from our hotel. I was surprised that he remembered me from
his Vodun ceremonies that I attended.
As I mentioned before, it was much different being a
tourist in Benin for two weeks than it was living and working there for two
years. As a volunteer I had very little
money and an unlimited amount of time.
Now we had as much money as we needed and very little time. As a volunteer I often bargained to the
death over 50 CFA (10 cents). I had to
do this because I was only paid 3000 CFA per day ($6). I also wanted to be treated like another
Beninese person since I was living there.
Now I didn’t have the time or energy to bargain to the death every time
that someone tried to overcharge me 10 cents, so
sometimes I gave in. At times I did
bargain hard, just to prove to myself that I hadn’t lost my touch. I certainly bargained hard if I felt we were
really getting screwed. Sometimes I
felt bad paying more than I should have because I knew it would make it harder
for volunteers to get the “real” price, and I also felt like I was being a
pushover. I rationalized it by saying
it’s a built in charity tax that we can easily afford.
Having more money than I did as a volunteer meant
that we could have many luxuries I couldn’t afford as a volunteer. For example, we always bought an extra seat
in the bush taxis so we wouldn’t be jammed in and lose circulation in one
cheek. Sometimes we rented the entire
taxi for short trips so we wouldn’t have to wait for it to fill up and then
wait again for it to let out passengers.
It meant we could stay in hotels and eat hotel food. I made an interesting discovery that good
health in Benin has a price. As a
volunteer I probably got diarrhea at least once a month. A few times I counted up to ten emergency
trips out to the latrine in one day, which was not fun. Volunteers often learned to live in a state
of almost constant diarrhea. If you
have the money it can be avoided. On
our trip Cara and I drank nothing but bottled water and did not eat street food
all the time. We also carried our own
plates and utensils that we kept clean and dry so I think that helped too.
Having more money also meant we could be more
generous with my friends. One woman had
a broken ankle from a Zemi accident that was very swollen, and it had been that
way for seven months! We gave her
10,000 CFA (20$) to go to the doctor. A
few days later she showed us an x-ray and said the doctor was going to reset it
for her. Nestor’s mother was not
feeling well for a few months so we gave her some money to go to the doctor as
well. As we have done every year, we
gave $100 for school supplies and school fees for all the kids in the
compound. There are about 20 kids, and
$5 per child goes a long way to keep them in school.
When you live in Benin for two years, you have to
get used to many discomforts and inconveniences, but there are some things you
can never get used to. When I went
back, some things bothered me that didn’t bother me before, perhaps because I
had gotten used to the conveniences of the United States. I noticed that I was less patient,
especially in the bank where we spent so much time unfortunately. It annoyed me that I always had to worry
whether or not I’d be able to get change for a 5,000 CFA (10$) bill when buying
an inexpensive item, and always having to plan ahead accordingly to avoid
change crises. It bothered me that I
had to pay for everything with cash, and when it ran out, I would have to go
through the arduous task of getting money exchanged at a bank. Mildew in the hotel pillows, the pollution
and traffic in Cotonou, and always being dirty grated on me. Most taxis had exhaust leaks so we would
breathe exhaust fumes for most of the ride and I did not enjoy that.
Despite those few things, I was fine with everything else. The bush taxis, garbage on the ground, and the food, bothered Cara in particular. In Benin there are practically no garbage cans anywhere, so people have no choice but to throw their garbage on the ground. When I was a volunteer I got tired of carrying garbage in pocket only to find out that I had no other choice but throw it on the ground somewhere, so I was resigned to this fact. I too threw my garbage on the ground without guilt. When I returned I could not bring myself to do this. I had become American again. Whenever I had garbage, I would ask a Beninese person what I should do with it. They would always motion to throw it on the ground so I did. When I was with Nestor, we had a routine where I would ask him where I should put the garbage. He would say throw it on the ground. Since I felt guilty about it, I handed it to him so he could immediately drop it on the ground allowing me to be guilt free. I’m sure that using a latrine and being squeezed into an over-packed taxi would have bothered me more than when I was a volunteer, but because I had a hotel with a flush toilet and could afford to buy an extra seat in the taxi, this was not a problem.
Oddly enough, a few things that bothered me when I
was a volunteer did not affect me now.
The Yovo song drove every volunteer and me absolutely crazy because we
heard the kids sing, “Yovo, Yovo, bon
soir, ca va bien? Merci!” over and over and over. Since no one has sung that song to me in years, I somehow thought
it was cute again. The kids who were
smiling and waving while singing it were especially cute, but the kids who sang
it and pointed in a taunting manner would get on my nerves had I stayed another
week. As a volunteer I hated akassa. It’s a flavorless, gelatinous ball of
slightly fermented cornstarch that you dip into sauce and eat with your
hands. On this trip I ate some and
somehow I liked it. The pâte was
pretty good and the rice and beans were scrumptious with a little gari. I must have enjoyed these foods for purely
nostalgic reasons as I can think of no other explanation.
Returning to Benin made me recall both the negative and the positive aspects of the country. In Benin you love the people but hate the country. When you visit a Western city people often love the country but may not care much for the people. Because Benin is so poor, almost nothing works efficiently. Situations such as trying to get money exchanged are is a perfect example. WAWA induced frustration is offset by the kindness of the people. When Cara and I were running all over Cotonou trying to get money changed, we needed to cross a busy road. I saw a police officer walking by, and I asked her to help us cross. She took out her whistle and gladly helped us. That same day when Cara got a sewer sandwich (a woman sells sandwiches near an open sewer), we needed a place to sit down. We were looking around and found a stoop. Some men who were working near by stopped what they were doing to dust off the stoop and found wooden bench for our friends to sit on. That reminded me how nice the Beninese people are, and I didn’t feel so bad about the problems we were having. The little things they do can really make up for the annoyances created by inefficiency that we must deal with in Benin. That same day we were supposed to go to one of my friend’s house for lunch in the afternoon, but we were held up in Cotonou. Luckily I was able to call one of the few people I know in Allada with a phone and have someone deliver a message to say we’d be very late. When we got there in the evening, our friend served us the food she had made us for lunch, and all of our friends who had intended to join us for lunch gathered around again, and their wonderful hospitality made us forget all about the terrible day we just had in Cotonou. To enjoy Benin you have to focus on these positive aspects of the people and try to forget the discomforts and hassles.
When I returned to Benin I felt almost as if I was
coming home, and I had never left. I
remembered almost everything about it.
I could still speak Fon and French. I remembered most of the people, and I remembered how to get
around. I did forget a few words in Fon and a few people’s names. I forgot many of the roads in Cotonou, and
some of the bush paths that I took when I was riding my bike out to the
villages to work with cooperatives, but these things were not significant. I never felt completely at home while living
in Benin, but I had adapted to it fairly well.
I had become familiar with the people, the language and the
culture. Despite the seven years I had
been away, Benin was pretty much the same, and it still felt a little like
home. Going back made me realize how
much I had learned about Benin and how much I adjusted to it. I was surprised that I could feel like Benin
was home because it is so different from the US, and I had been away so
long. When I went back I had similar
feelings as to when I explore the town I grew up in after not having been there
for a long time. I look for changes
since the last time I was there and recall the many memories those different
places in town remind me of.
Since
Benin is such a poor country, and I was there to help it develop, I would like
to think that in seven years there would be a lot of improvements. At best I would say there were some modest
improvements. Unfortunately they were
partially offset by an increase in population, crowding, and pollution.
No
matter where you are, in seven years many businesses open and close. Allada now has a bakery, which is great
news. The bread is absolutely
fantastic, and if they have anything to be grateful to the French for, it is
the bread. When I was here the bread
was always day old in Allada because it came from Cotonou.
It
appears that Christian evangelism is on the rise in Benin as I’ve seen a lot
more Jehova’s Witness buildings, and I saw many new churches. In Allada there is a new huge church, and
there is a very large radio antenna that broadcasts evangelical programs in
Fon. I actually heard it on the
internet in the U.S. before I left for Benin.
The
pavement going towards Abomey is a bit more potholey but not in terrible
condition. I heard that they paved the
road from Parakou to Djougou and from Djougou to Savalou as well, but we did
not go north so I can’t give more details than that. They have paved a few side roads in Allada and Ouidah with
interlocking cobblestones.
Access
to modern technology has definitely improved in Benin. When I left in 1997 there were a few
internet cafes in Cotonou, but there were none anywhere else. Today Cotonou has dozens of internet cafes
and Allada has three! It seems like
most towns with electricity and phone service have at least one internet cafe,
however connections are usually very slow and unreliable. In Cotonou and Ouidah when I was looking for
an internet café, I found that many even though they claimed to have internet,
said that it was not working. Internet
costs from 400 to 700 CFA per hour depending on the time of day. At some internet café’s they have quite
modern equipment running Windows XP.
You know the internet is wide spread when a Beninese person asks you for
your e-mail address and then gives you his.
Cell
phones are everywhere, and many Beninese use them. In Cotonou, Allada, and Ouidah there are signs everywhere
advertising boutiques that sell prepaid phone cards because cell phones don’t
use monthly calling plans. Many of my
friends who I would think would not be able to afford a phone, have one and use
it. I saw DVD players and DVD’s for sale in Ganhi. Two of my friends have one along and a video game system. Allada now has a photo-developing store that
can develop pictures in 25 minutes.
Western Union began a joint venture with the PTT, and there are Western Union
banners outside every PTT. I sent
Nestor money through Western Union once and it worked great.
New
CFA paper money and coins have been issued recently so the old money we know is
still very common. I saw a new 2000,
5000, and 10,000 CFA bill. There is now
a 250 CFA coin and a 500 CFA coin as well.
Cotonou
has many new paved roads, a few new traffic lights and they even have a
pedestrian crosswalk with a working light to cross Avenue Steinmetz near
Dantokpa. The bad news is that it seems
much more crowded and polluted. The
traffic is also a lot worse. I remember
being able to get from Allada to Cotonou in about an hour to an hour and a half
on a bad day. On the few trips I took
this time, it usually took almost two hours because traffic came to a
standstill frequently between Godomey and Abomey-Calavi. I heard that Abomey-Calavi has become an
“upscale” bedroom community for all the professionals in Cotonou, so traffic is
bad. I also remember being able to
cross the street in Cotonou without fearing for my life. Now there is so much traffic on many streets
that you have to wait a long time or get the cars and zemis to stop for you to
cross. Crossing by Ganhi and Dantokpa
is scary experience. The pollution is
also a lot worse from the many more cars and Zemis on the road. There was a huge traffic jam on the bridge
going from Ganhi (by the striped church) to Hotel du Lac. I was on a zemi and it took 10 minutes just
to cross the bridge! After that experience we decided to cross the bridge by
foot later that day. By that time the traffic had worsened and we had to dodge
zemis riding up on the sidewalk!
Luckily they are building an adjacent bridge, which appears to be almost
finished.
Cotonou
is still very dirty and the sidewalks are crowded by vendors forcing you to
walk in the busy streets. I did see
garbage cans in the street for the first time, and guess where they were? In Haie Vive, the Yovo neighborhood, of
course!
People
claim that the economy is not doing very well, but that hasn’t stopped Kérékou
from expanding the presidential mansion.
From the road it looks like a sizeable expansion. I can’t believe there isn’t a more
appropriate way to spend the money in a country as poor as Benin. I heard that he is also trying to get the
constitution amended so he can run for a third term, but most people don’t believe
it will happen.
I
had a really bad case of reverse culture shock when I came home after two years
that took me at least a year to get over.
I’m seeing now that it never goes away completely. I’ve been home almost a month now from my
two week trip to Benin, and I’ve been having similar feelings to those that I
had when I got home the first time, but because I was not there as long, they
are not as strong. Having been through
the process of going to Benin and coming back to the US made the re-entry shock
this time less also. Nonetheless there are things that are bothering me. There are things that I miss about Benin,
things that I love about the U.S. and things that I criticize internally.
I
miss being a celebrity as I was in Benin.
I’ve lived in Ossining over three years and relatively few people know
me. It bothers me a little how little
face to face social interaction one has with people here, and I think back to
just a few weeks ago, I would do almost nothing but talk to people all
day. I also think about the huge
discrepancy of wealth. A perfect
example was the tomato can versus the chrome.
When I was in Benin the first time, I marveled at the ingenuity of the
mechanics to keep their cars going with very few spare parts and almost no
money. I have seen on several occasions
where they take a small tomato paste can, poke holes in it and put it on top of
the carburetor in place of an air filter!
I don’t know why they even bother to do that because it’s useless to
keep anything out of their engine but small stones. Considering all the dirt roads and dust, I can’t believe their
engines last more than a few thousand miles before needing a rebuild. On the flip side, I recently went to an
antique car show here in New York and saw how
meticulous and perfect all the cars were.
Every nut, bolt, screw and every square millimeter of the car is
polished and waxed. They’re so clean
you could eat off of them because the owner buffed it with a diaper for an hour
before the show. Most of those cars had
air filter covers that were chrome and polished so well you’d think it were a
mirror if it weren’t on top of an engine.
The air filters alone probably cost what the average Beninese person
earns in six months! I’m sorry I didn’t
bring the picture of the tomato paste can air filter to show them. Something like this reminds me again that as
a society we’re spoiled and our priorities are much different than much of the
rest of the world. Our priorities are
often superficial such as having the baddest antique car while they’re concern
is figuring out how to have enough food over the long dry season or how to
scrape up enough money to get a seriously sick child to a doctor. So yes, I’m having a mild case of re-entry
shock, even after a mere two-week trip to Benin.
Going back was a great experience, and I recommend that every Benin Returned Peace Corps Volunteer go back if possible. Returning allowed me to put closure on my Peace Corps service and reevaluate it from a new perspective. It allowed me to share an important part of my life with my wife. Cara enjoyed it the first few days until the culture shock set in. She had some difficult days, but by the time we left, she was sad to go, and today she is still talking about it with enthusiasm. I was shocked when she said that she wanted to go back some day! It’s nice to be able to talk to her about Benin, and know she understands.
It was
wonderful to see old friends and see familiar places. I was surprised at how many people remembered me and how happy everyone
was to see me. It was reassuring to me
that although I had been gone for seven years, I had not forgotten much Fon, or
much about the culture. It was
reassuring that I could get back into the groove of living there very
quickly. It was very gratifying to hear
people I worked with say that what I had done for them was useful, and they
were still appreciative seven years later.
Going back refreshed my impression of Benin bringing both its positive
and the negative aspects back into focus.
I was reminded again how nice the people are and how they make up for
Benin’s many inefficiencies and inconveniences. It was interesting to see how the country had changed over the
years and how the kids had grown up. As
for me, I could see that some of the characteristics of my personality that I acquired in Benin have not
changed since being away: I appreciate
people more, I’m more flexible, and I definitely still appreciate the
efficiency and conveniences of living in U.S.
Saying goodbye to Benin was difficult, but it wasn’t that hard because
deep down inside I know I’ll go back again someday.