Sunday, November 22, 2009

Wake-Up

The sun rose sharply over the rocky hill, its luminance made less searing by the Harmattan winds billowing in from the North, which makes the atmosphere a smoggy collection of Sarahan sand particles. The trees crowded around me and the rocky crag of a colline I was on in a very African way, erasing my momentary wondering of where I was. I was in Benin, waking up on a local hill close to the village, seeing the day stretch itself and my new world awaken, life is good. Perhaps the understatement that best defines my experience here thus far, life is good.
The great outdoors is something different in America. A slogan for an air freshner, a poster in a classroom, here it's just everyday life, a fact made more clear to me by my first camping experience in Benin. Maybe that's why it was so hard to explain what we were doing sleeping out on the colline to the neighbors. "You're doing what?","What's camping?","You're bizarre, but nice." (That last one being my favourite response). It's strange to think that in America we've become so far removed from the outdoor experience that we've created an entire sporting lifestyle, complete with packaged goods and industrialized retail processes, called "camping". Camping, the hardest word to translate for me thus far. I settled on "faire du sport", as much as that falls short of the intended meaning. Either way, it was worth while. The "wow" moments seemed to multiply as the day went on, a fact owing, I think, to the fact that I was their for the day's birth, the nightly struggle of the sun against the night had been won yet again by the sun and life could go on. Marche day, Parakou bound; all facts making my day worth mention, but made all the more insignificant and wonderful at the same time by that red sun peaking over the hills. It's time to get up Brad.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Field Of Dreams

Every little boy knows the voice. The internal dialogue of an announcer calling out the name of a young sports hero as he takes the field. Practiced in school basketball courts and baseball diamonds nation wide, this young boy is no exception. Such was my delight to relive the dialogue this year at the Aklampa students versus teacher soccer game.
In my head the public announcement, after a rousing rendition of the Michael Jordan intro music to get the crowd on its feet, went something like this, "And now, from the United States of America, your new English teacher! Monsieur...MOCK...Robert!"
Needless to say, the crowd went wild as I took to the dusty Lago field for the final two minutes of the match. The air was electric as I almost was able to touch the ball while sprinting up the field, I'll get it next time boys. While I didn't get to play much in the game, a measly two minutes at the end of the game, I was happy enough to get the nod from the coach, and to show off my speed to my colleagues, the hope being that they'll realize what an offensive weapon they have to use. While I may be a bit rough around the proverbial soccer (or "football") edges, I feel that I have potential and I treated the game as a very poor man's version of the NFL combine. Look out for me next time students!
I had to squeeze into the team uniform, a blue ensemble with a corn cob on the front and "Que Le Meillieur Gagne" emblazoned on the right chest and us teachers fought those darn kids to a pretty good nil nil draw.
I was happy enough to run around as close to the sideline as possible to be further inundated with adrenaline as a result of the roar of the rabble rousers enjoying the game.
Besides my new amateur athletic career in the Collines, I also have a new roommate. Charley the lovable Beninese dog, a cute puppy given to me by a local Canadian and fellow Yovo is my new constant companion. While a bit too young to be used to harass the local neer-do-wells, he is cute enough to stop a thief in his or her tracks. That a boy Charley, kill 'em with kindness. Who needs a soccer trophy with a dog like this?