Holidays Cometh

How does it always seem that I manage to stay at the workstation longer than even I would like to? A morning turns into an afternoon, an afternoon an evening, and pretty soon its one more day. A metaphor for life perhaps? Nah, just my inner bum coming out once again. One semester has come and gone here in the Beninese school system, leaving one more for my carreer as a Beninese schoolteacher. Christmas break, always a welcome reprieve, hovers over my head as I anxiously wait for it to drop. Two more classes and it's upon us. I had never realized that vacations were more eagerly awaited for by teachers than students. I remember, as a student, always hating my teachers for not having a reason to go on vacation. As if we, as students, were the end-all-be-all of their lives. Well, for the thousands of students out there, I would like to apologize to my former teachers. I now know that you too have lives and are as annoyed with us, as students, as we are/were with you, as teachers. While the mornings and evenings find me in long sleeves and occasionally sweats, I'm sure the "winter" here cannot compete with the one back home. After watching an internet video of the Metrodome collapsing under snow I felt like a dog witnessing snow for the first time, confused and overjoyed at the same time. "Ah yes!," I seemed to say, "Snow does exist!", as if I had forgotten about the defining precipitous moments of Christmas since time immemorial for me and mine. As per usual in West Africa, no snow this year, but while driving through the bush country to visit a friend's farm I was reminded of past Christmases by the long rows of cotton interspersed amongst the yam rows and cashew trees. While the bush is rough, it is not wild. People and small villages line it's numerous winding roads and foot-trails. As we rode past the cotton fields, and bits of cotton fluff floated on by us, I was reminded of the month I was in. In spite of the heat and humidity, the dust and the dirt, it was December and somewhere in this crazy big world of ours snow was falling on my native Mid-West. While a pale substitution for snow, the little white bits flying by me could not but awaken my inner snowman. If only I could say I was there in the heartland in spirit. Alas, it seems spirit and body are here with me in Africa, Humanity's home, for this end of 2010, although Michigan, Indiana, Missouri, and Kentucky are never far from my mind. I know they'll always be there for me, as I'll always be there for them. Though distance my strain the bonds the bind, they cannot be broken, as love's connection is something reinforced by familial passion and not easily forgotten in foreign climes, no matter the heat or humidity. Africa may amaze me, as She constantly does, and speak to me, as again She does, but in my heart and soul I know my home and it's nestled amongst the lakes and hills of America's heartland. That being said, the holiday spirit is no where stronger than here in Benin. Food, non-stop, was on the agenda for the visit to my friend's farm as well as good old fashioned hospitality. I hope for some Midwestern wishes from Santa for Christmas, maybe he'll bring some African affection to my people back home.

Two Packages

Two packages were waiting for me when I walked into the Parakou workstation, my khaki shirt had been turned orange from the road and I hesitate to think of the color it had turned my skin to. While my eyes hurt from the day's sun they attempted to defy their fatigue in order to take in the Christmas decorations set up around the station. What a strange idea, Christmas trees and music while you sweat from the heat and can see palm trees, the idea doesn't seem to get easier to digest the second time around but only serves to remind you where you are. Benin, West Africa, an ocean and a world away from what had been and what is still, despite new cultural ideas and norms, so familiar to you. Thanksgiving has come and gone and I'm as thankful as ever for this experience, for new people that have changed my life and for new ways of thinking about home, family, and the world. And to finally be allowed to hum Christmas songs without feeling ashamed (as Thanksgiving is the legal limit when one can start the buildup to the Fourth of July in December that is X-mas). The packages, while from Halloween circa October, were appreciated as if they had been wrapped in gold, as missives from the other side of the Atlantic always are. The first tests of the semester have been composed and and this little reprieve away from the village was a bit of a reward to myself for completing one semester, and what a reward it was.