Adjusting to Kerou

All throughout the Peace Corps application process I knew my adjustment to my village would be difficult. I knew that I had become quite habituated to my technologically advanced life with my iPhone, then NUMEROUS Blackberrys, and my MacBook that was constantly connected to the Internet—as was I through my numerous communications devices—my large, flat screen television (Thanks Lajuan and Ian) which was recording television programs at my whim, and the fantastic public transportation system that helps the Washington Metro area thrive. I also had become quite comfortable living in an area where I could dine at restaurants featuring food from all corners of the planet from Thailand to Ethiopia to Mexico. I had a nimiety of friends from all sorts of different cultural backgrounds and who hailed from different parts of the country, not to mention the world. To be quite honest, I was living the dream. With that life came a lot of temptations, some of which I wasn’t able to cede. These temptations could have led me down a path into a life and a person I didn’t want. I knew that the Peace Corps would be a welcomed distraction from those temptations and would help me to NOT become the person I had seen in my future. Also, I knew I did well at Penn State, I was involved, I got good grades, I could get recommendations from my professors, and the Peace Corps would be another assurance to help me secure a position at a top university for a masters and potentially a doctorate. (That’s right, I might become a doctor. But, not one of those save-your-life doctors, just the kind that pontificate about things they’ve spent too many hours studying. The kind that suits my personality.) I have certain goals for my future and I want to know that I’ve done all that I can to assure that future. Life rarely goes according to plan, but there’s nothing wrong with having an idea of which route you want to take and making sure there’s enough fuel in the tank to get there.

Thus, I’m in the Peace Corps in Africa; Benin, to be exact; Kerou, to be even more precise. Kerou is large enough that I have electricity, which is a lifesaver. I wouldn’t be writing this blog posting without it. It’s small enough that I don’t have paved roads, which are about two to four hours away, depending on which direction you go and the state of the vehicle you’re in. I also have to walk about two football fields to get to running water. Which, isn’t as bad as you think, I make the neighbor kids fetch my drinking water and the water I use to clean my dishes and wash my hands. I have a well just outside my door where I get my shower water and toilet-flushing water. (Side note: children in Africa are viewed a bit differently than they are in the States. They’re seen as a way to help the family prosper—as in do chores, around the house and serve the older members of the family. In America we seen them as our future, and it’s not that they aren’t seen that way here, there is just more importance placed on older members of the family to younger members. It may of something to do with the child mortality rate and or the importance placed on the paternal role in society.)

These few characteristics of Kerou should help shed some light on the difficulty I’m having adjusting to a Beninese style of living. While living in Porto Novo during training my new friends surrounded me, I had the Internet at my fingertips, there were numerous places to eat, and I could watch a television in the morning. I had markets I could go to everyday to get the things I needed, and, to be quite honest, though it was a change from my Logan Circle living (Logan Circle adjacent), it wasn’t something that made me change the way I lived dramatically. I was just a bit less “connected.”

Living in Kerou is completely different than living in the States. In the States it’s extremely easy to let your environment dictate your social development and generally happiness with your life. If you’re feeling lonely you can call up a friend, meet for some coffee or a beer, go to a movie, go bowling, sweet heaven, you can just walk down the street and find something to do. In Kerou, I have to make myself happy and actively go out and find things to occupy my time. I have to create everything on my own. As I said, American society gives you things to make you happy, here I have to find out what makes me happy and then make it happen. Essentially, I have to create my own happiness. I know it’s something we here about as we grow up, “look for what makes you happy and then do it,” but here you ACTUALLY have to do it, or you’ll go nuts, or read eight books in three months, as I have already. Taking this control of yourself and your own well-being might be the hardest and more important development for Peace Corps volunteers. I think it’s aspect that makes or breaks a Peace Corps volunteer and I hope I have the right attitude. I have realized this already and am doing what I can to address this.

Another serious adjustment is the pace of life. Life in Africa just moves at a slower pace; it moves at a slower pace because everything takes more time. It takes 20 minutes just to start cooking tomato sauce, as I have to soak the tomatoes in bleach water just to kill and parasites on the skin. Then, though it’s not hard or time consuming, I have to light the flame on my little gas stove with a match, which is far more advanced than any other stove in Kerou, I promise you. From that point, I just cook away to my hearts content. It’s the preparation that so time consuming. In DC I could go to one Whole Foods and find all the necessary ingredients, and, let’s be honest, some things I didn’t know I needed, in one place. In Kerou it’s a multi-hour adventure just to get the things I need to make dinner. I have to plan things out. I’m surprised I haven’t started making charts. (Anyone who has seen me at work knows that I make lists. I have lists for lists and lists on lists. It’s one of the tactics I’ve developed to help with my ADD. Which is non-existent here. There isn’t enough to distract me from what I’m doing to even HAVE an attention deficit disorder, though I still make lots of lists.)

Being a technophile, it’s been a bit difficult. But, there are some saving points. The phones here are interesting. I love communications technologies and just seeing the different kinds of phones they have here entertains me. Because cell phone providers don’t cover all areas and it’s cheaper to call people on the same network, there are cell phones that have numerous slots for SIM cards. I’ve seen some phones with up to three slots. (And some people who don’t spend the money for a fancy phone with three phones, which I think they think is “baller.”) Which is kind of cool. Also, most phones here have flashlights on the top. Though they have electricity in my village, and 70 percent of the areas in Benin, the current cuts out frequently, usually when a lot of people turn on their lights and when there are storms, you know, when you need electricity the most, and thus have handy lights at their convenience.

I have also been able to keep abreast of what’s going on in the world as I have befriended some people who work at the local hotel bar, which is right down the “street” (dirt path where children pee and poo on a daily basis) from where I live. The bar has a television and I watch French news and the African Voice of America channel. (French news carries a lot of American news. Everyone wants to know what’s going on in America, whether they like it or not.) But, it’s not like having the Internet in front of you and constantly refreshing my google news and CNN.com homepage. I also can’t check my “buddies” GChat or facebook statuses ad nauseum.

Some parts that have been even more difficult: for some reason unbeknownst to me, I have sudden and almost overwhelming feelings of sadness. They’re fleeting, but nonetheless there. They were more frequent when I first arrived in Kerou, and as I have adjusted, they have become less frequent. I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t ACTUALLY realize what I was getting myself into and how much I loved my life in America, or some other reason. I can only speculate. They occur at random moments and, as I can tell, have no cause. When I start to feel this way I try to get out of my house and go for a bike ride, listen to music, or go read a book at my hotel and drink a beer. We were told all throughout training that there would be some serious ups and downs through your time in the Peace Corps. You don’t really know the severity of what they’re saying until you experience it on your own. Another difficult area has been social inclusion. In America if you can’t find a social group to relate to you’re not looking hard enough. Other than Karina, I’m the only American within 75 kilometers. And the Beninese are nice, it’s just a lot easier to sit down with your peers and talk about life when you don’t have cultural and linguistic barriers to overcome. Thankfully I do have a post mate. She is definitely going to make my experience in Kerou infinitely better. (Not to mention she’s rather attractive and buckets of fun. CORNY ALERT – she’s a little bit of sunshine in Kerou on an otherwise cloudy day.)

There are a lot of things that will take some time to adjust to. And, for that matter, be difficult to readjust from when I return to the States. Which will happen, fret not. I like what I’m doing and growing accustom to Keroise life, but nothing will make you love America more than living somewhere that doesn’t compare to it.

I know I this post has been a bit “down in the dumps,” but I want people to know what it’s really like in the Peace Corps. This blog is also serving as a journal for me to chronicle the “ups” and the “downs” and the “happenings” that will help me realize the progress I’ve made throughout my “sejour” here in Benin.

Fret not faithful followers, Brandoni will make it out of his Peace Corps experience a stronger man, both mentally and emotionally. This experience will teach me the benefits of a slower pace in life. It will show me the importance of creating worthwhile relationships with people who are different from me. I hope it’ll help me find some humility, but I doubt it. But, if nothing else, it’ll help me create the person I want to be instead of the person society dictates I should be.