No Parents!

*spell check does not work in this country. apologies for any inconvenience.

Our first trip outside of the big cities started off with 5 of us packing into an old mercedes en route North to our hosts posting city. Once we left the rec center at 7:30 am, we quickly picked up another passenger to make it a luxurious 7. Momentarily fooled by the power windows and leather interior, I was pleasently comfortable in back with my ipod. 30 minutes later when we first pulled over for engine failure I began to think again. After 4 more of these, the driver and 7th passenger began looking at the engine. When we found the two of them pulling out 12' of rope from the engine, and discarding it on the pavement. Again my confidence took another apprehensive step down.

Further down the road, we were stopped by the military next to a banana farm. The AK-47's were doing most of the talking, since the soldier's French was muttled. After inspecting our bags and seeing that we only had copies of our passports, they became agitated. According to them, not having our real passports on hand was illegal. PC had told us never to travel in country with the real passports, since it could easily be lost or stolen. They were locked up in the PC bereau anyway. After several minutes of hand motions and grunts, we were let off. Pretty comparable to the frequent stops encountered on a trip down to Baja.

Back on the road, we were all tisks and giggles about the stopver...BAM! In an instant, the hod of the car caught a blast of wind and catapulted into the windsheild blinding everyone of the road. The glass cracked as we slowed down and pulled over. Fortunately nobody was coming the other direction, but I have a feeling that bundle of rope may have been doing an extrordinary job of keeping that hood, and engine, in working order. We all caught our breath and braced for the next malfunction.

Another 5 stops and 2 hours later we arrived at a midpoint city where we dropped of two stagiers and us three zemi rode through the city to the other gare for our final destination. Zemi is Beninoise for weed wacker engine motorcyle. They smell almost as foul as the trash they drive over. Gare is French for train station. Gare is also Beninoise for an area on the side of the road where 2-3 old peugots and men hang out until enough people say they need a ride. We began our discuté with the drivers and got the price down to 800 CFA, about 2 dollars. As we piled into the small car, we were joined by 2 large marche mommas, 2 large men, 2 children, and of course, the chauffer. Once the musical chairs had fatigued the chauffer enough to lose all compassion for passengers, the 10 of us, with the help of other drivers on the outside to close the doors and give us a push start, took of for our city.

I was positioned adjacent to the chauffer one foot next to the gas pedal, one foot on the other side of the ridge, with two men to my right, and a helmet and bag on my lap up to my chin. As you could guess, the other 6 were in the back seat. Think of Jenga with people. My head was tilted and smashed up against the roof. For the next 60 minutes, my view would be the 5' of road directly in front of us, the hood of the petit peugot, and a plastic g.i. joe figure dangling in front of my face from the rear view mirror as some twisted sense of reassurance that this little soldier would be stopping the next hook from making it through the windsheild.

Not knowing where we were going exactly and not having cell phone service, we asked to be dropped off at the CPS (local med clinic) and began asking people where the Yovo was. Lucky enough, our host lived a few hundred feet away and we could finally rest after what I will learn is a very typical travel experience in Benin.

The rest of the trip was very relaxnig, and very great to be away from the host families overprotective grip. We made vegan fajitas the first night, including making the tortillas from scratch, and also made a mango cake with a dutch oven on the stove. For the Benin Independence Day Friday, we joined the village for a parade and dancing, and then were invited into a vip luncheon with the mayor. It was amazing being treated so well, but a little part of me felt guilty accepting the invite and passing lots of people who would not ever get to join the party.

The next day while on the way back from visiting our host volunteers post-mate, we were able to witness birth. One of us noticed a goat on its side making a lot of noise, and 15 minutes later we watched her give birth to a beautiful little white goat. The stories and events keep me continually amazed.

We also had lots of down time, something we are told we will have after stage, and read a lot and talked a lot. Tao Te Ching was the main topic, since our host had the book and a few others had not heard of Taoism before. It was great to apply the ideas to our experience, and also think of how they could help the people in the village. There are many conversations being made as to the nature of peace corps, ngo's, and general issues surrounding developing countries aid. Hopefully next post I can distill my opinions and post, but I do know that what ever my biases are now, they are sure to change in 2 years. I will end this one with some great quotes instead.

''Each person has a concious self and a dark side, the shadow, which represents unexpressed feelings and longings. Everything we don't accept with ourselves. When we don't acknowledge the shadow it will manifest and control/distort conciousness.'' - Jung

''The central truths to the art of living are paradoxical only on the surface: the more truly solitary we are, the more compassionate we can be; the more we let go of what we love, the more present our love becomes; the clearer our insight into what is beyond good and evil, the more we can embody the good. Until finaly, one is able to say, in all humility, 'I am the Tao, the Truth, the Life.' '' - Lao-Tzu, Tao Te Ching

Take 15 minutes today and confront your conciousness and your shadow. You will be surprised at how simple the solutions can be.