Eleventh Impressions

  My impressions are rarely laden with abundant feild news. Because our lives since February have been saturated with the 200km that our friends occupy west and north of Cotonou it's been hard to complete another impression. It has not been for a lack of stirring, amusing or baffling experiences.

  After our Wednesday evening study this week Rosanne and I stood for a while on the side of the highway yelling at the bright headlights that zoomed by, "Ouidah, Ouidah!!". All the taxis were full. The only other option was the minibus already full of market ladies, their goods bundled high on the roof. Just as they were taking off we ran up and found a space big enough for one of us and we both sqeezed in. As the engine revved the chatter got louder.
  Immediately the lady whose knees were chafing with mine declared that we would pay everyones fare. I told her that if we were rich we would be riding in a shiny SUV -not in a minibus!
   The conversation carried on in Fon with lots of laughter, the only word recognizable to our ears being "yovo", which means "white person". We laughed with them until they stopped with serious looks and asked "You understand Fon???" So we pulled out all the Fon we know and evidently impressed them... Their chatter turned into French and we were the subject of interest. Questions about husbands, children, and earrings made their way into coversations about recipes, favorite foods etc.
  After a lull in the conversation my knee-chafing friend told me to sing them something. I came up with "Jesus m'aime, je le sais..." To our surprise the ladies joined in for the chorus clapping and swaying "Oui, Jesus m'aime. Oui, Jesus m'aime..." and we dissolved into bemused laughter.
  By the end of the busride we had 3 phonenumbers and a visit planned for Saturday with my knee-chafing friend. She wants to learn the rest of "Jesus m'aime".  We called out "Odabo", Fon for goodbye, as they trundled on after letting us out.

  Our Gospel meetings have ended for now as we are getting ready for preps and conventions. Sundays brought some 80 people to each meeting, at least 10 of those being contacts. The Tuesday meetings were smaller, around 10 people, up to 5 of them being contacts. Kaarina and I closed our Saturday meetings a while ago as the interest there dwindled. Rosanne only returned from conventions in Great Britain this week. Today is the last meeting in the village with the lady who used to walk 4 hours to get to the Saturday Gospel meetings.

   Our weeks have been filled with long trips in taxis or on the motorbike heading either to or from a few nights in the friends' homes. I drive the motorbike now. The mob of revving motors that pushes into the flow of the roundabout somehow seems less angry to me as I find my own path through it all. I find courage in the horn as I weave around various obstacles.
  A while ago I was 9th person to pack into an old Volkswagen Golf. Three adults and a child in the front and four adults and a child in the back. The taxi is one of my favorite ways to travel here. You get the real feel of the people. Chubby, boney, sticky, damp, jovial, sweet smelling, rank, drunk, kind, tired, malnourished, proud and so on...

  In the friends homes we are treated both as respected guests and family. Often a room has to be vacated to accomodate us. A mosquito net hangs above a double matress covered with a faded but clean sheet likely bought at the second hand market. Two of mama's colourful wraps sit atop our pillows, to be used as sheets. We count it a luxury if there is a cord strung across the room to hang our clothes on or a mirror hanging against the bare brick wall.
  The evening meal is served anywhere between 7pm and 10pm. If it is any earlier it is only because foreigners eat early. Only once have we sat down to eat at 11:30pm. That evening we walked into the yard to find a surprised Mama covered in white cornflour from working in her mill all day. There had been a misunderstanding when making the plans but she refused to let us stay elsewhere.
  Some of the phrases I used on our minibus trip are what I have learnt at the tables of our friends. "Nyiwanu wo" means I love pâte which is a thick corn meal, southern Benin's favorite dish by far. In the morning, fresh Benin baguettes and oily omelettes await us.

   It has been eleven months since I arrived in West Africa. The Ontario list has come out and my name is where I expected it to be, at the bottom with "West Africa pro tem" beside it. After Dorothy went home to care for her health I was asked to stay on to fill in for her until something else works out. Gbetagbo preps start August 2. I have been invited with 3 others to Ghana for their August 12-15 convention.  Parakou convention is August 21-22 and Gbetagbo convention is August 26-29.

Until next time...  Alize