Swingin' in the Rain

The return from lunch had us energized and ready for an afternoon of gardening. We remained eager even as the sun beat down on us in the rear of the training center. You might expect as much from Sustainable Agricultural System (SAS) trainees. This SAS Squad wanted in on the action we had heard so much about earlier in the week. We spent more than an hour and a half preparing our garden with hoes and picks, pausing every once and a while to watch brief demonstrations from staff from current volunteers on digging berms, plant ecology, and mixing “garbage” dirt, charcoal, and dried chicken fecal matter. Most of the afternoon saw the swinging of hoes up and down like oil wells, but our game was infusion of organic matter, not extraction.

Faces drenched with sweat glanced up at the darkening sky. Whispers of pluie began, and the swinging quickened… but to no avail. Water poured down, leaving each volunteer sopping as they persisted in their work. Most teams finished their work, and those that did dug water-catching holes alongside the berms of those still at work. We had to call it an early day, but it was well worked nonetheless.

Without too much generalization, I find this a microcosm of the last two weeks of training and living with host families. Each have followed a bit of a formula: listen, try, work, succeed at one thing, fail at another, and learn at each and every moment. Listening is the essential first step, whether it’s to language tutors or my host mother teaching me to hand wash my laundry. Trying, learning, and working are what we’re here for with hope of success, but the key ingredient after listening is failure. Failures are part of the environment: we can’t know each and every faux pas before rooming with host families, but we can learn and navigate them. What’s more, some are out of our control like the mood of another when diving into cross-cultural situations or a little rain. The lesson I’ve learned is to lean into these moments with tools -hoe or ear- and continue good work with an ear to adaptations, like water-catching holes.

My host family has been accommodating and kind. I spend much of my time at home with my host father, Papa Kokou, or my host brothers and sisters (or any of the kids who happen to be hanging out). My Papa has two wives, Collette and Leah, who are slowly teaching me to clean, cook, and -yes- boil water in Beninois contexts. After a full day of language and technical training, I return home to my family, read, and eat dinner. I have my own room, a bed net, and a fan. We joke around frequently at home, and Papa teaches me Fon phrases while I share my Peace Corps work and experiences in America with him. Amusingly, he is also a twin, is the same age as my American papa, and has the same whistle ringtone as him as well. Overall, I have found the host family experience an enriching way to learn about Beninois culture. And overall, I count myself a lucky SASsy kid.