a hot and happy Christmas...

Did we have a happy Christmas? I will answer that question with this one-take, self-timer photo taken after our Christmas dinner...

and the winner is...

... well, no one guessed exactly ... and I'm going to put the answer to last week's mystery object into the comments section of this post so that no one reads it by mistake before looking at the last post ...

mystery object

Can anyone guess what this is? (Please don't answer and spoil it for everyone else if you actually know!)

seasonal confusion

When I was a child, my aunt and uncle were living in South Africa, and one year they kindly gave us a calendar which said on it “It's sunny today in South Africa”. This wasn't a message we necessarily wanted to hear on a gloomy November day in England. Now that they are living in England, I'm tempted to make a calendar for them which says “It's sunny today in West Africa”!

But jokes aside, I have realised that it is very odd for me, as an English girl, to be living somewhere where the weather is so stable. At the moment we never have to wonder how the weather will be the next day, as we know it will be sunny but fresh in the morning, temperatures around 32°C by the afternoon, and cooler again in the evening and overnight. It's reassuring … particularly since this kind of weather suits me very well. It may be less comfortable in dry season when the predictability means we know that temperatures are going to be up near 40°C every day!

I have at last been able to feel a little bit as if Christmas is coming. Yesterday I went to the rehearsal of the missionary kids' Christmas Presentation, and hearing them singing carols helped me believe it might really be December after all. We are planning to buy a Christmas tree this week and get it up and decorated this weekend. Fake, of course!

yellow fever jab

The Beninese government is having a Yellow Fever vaccination campaign, offering free vaccinations to everyone, this week. Anyone entering Benin over the age of one year is checked for Yellow Fever vaccination as they go through customs, so all of us except Benjy had been jabbed already. But Benjy is now old enough to have it – he is ten months and it is recommended from nine months – so we thought we'd take advantage of the offer of a free jab.

I went with Esther (our home help) who mentioned she wanted to go today and was very happy to have us come along too. Marc is in Cotonou so it was just me and the boys. We had heard a rumour about one of the places it could be done where there would be less queueing, so went there. It was difficult to find, which might explain the lack of crowds! In fact when we got there Esther was able to be vaccinated immediately, but they told us to take Benjy elsewhere and ask for the person in charge.

So we drove up the road to another dispensary, where Esther jumped the (not very long) queue to say we'd been sent there. She then called me in, I answered a few questions about Benjy, and he received his injection.

The cross-cultural confusion I have is that I'm still not sure a) why Benjy couldn't be injected at the first place, and b) whether we jumped the queue at the second because we're white, because we were sent there from elsewhere, or for some other reason, like Benjy's age. However, I'm not too bothered about not understanding since the important thing is that Benjy has had the vaccination now!

family

Time for some family news, I think!

Last week the weather shifted quite abruptly into harmattan. We had had a “short dry season” at the end of rainy season, and all of a sudden the harmattan wind began to blow and evenings, nights and mornings became much cooler. We still have temperatures in the low 30s during the heat of the day. The dust is already making itself at home in our house, so I can't imagine what things will be like in a couple of months' time!

The change of seasons has brought a cold, and we are all a bit snuffly at the moment.

Simon is paradoxically seeming more and more sure of himself but also revealing a sensitive side to his character. He is very friendly, and loves to go visiting other people on the compound, yet the slightest upset will have him wailing. He is also finding it hard to adjust to having a mobile brother, as he realises that his toys are no longer safe!

Benjy mastered crawling a few weeks ago and has also cut 5 teeth in the last three weeks. Sleep has never come to him easily, and teething has just made things worse! We have only had about five unbroken nights sleep in the last ten months! We are thankful that God has given us strength for daily life and work despite this.

I am very happy to be here living in Benin after years of waiting to get here. I can see that God had the right timing, although at times I got frustrated. We can see the way that the time was used to put so many things into place that helped us to feel more at home when we eventually got here.

I'm enjoying the language learning and getting to know our Beninese colleagues. The climate agrees with me too. So far it has never been very very hot, and I am happy to be missing out on the cold of a European winter (with just a few nostalgic pangs for autumn leaves and clear frosty days). I was re-reading “A Year in Provence” (by Peter Mayle) recently, and smiled in recognition when I read: “Socks were a distant memory.” I love being able to go barefoot in the house. And despite what those who remember me living in jeans might think, I love wearing long swishy skirts all the time!

Fortunately I have always preferred to cook from scratch, as there isn't any other way to cook out here. Occasionally in a lazy moment I do wish I had a few pots of pasta sauce in the cupboard! I have got into canning – squash, beans, pineapple and papaya so far – and yesterday we made marmelade from the grapefruits growing on our compound. The missionary who gave me the canning jars also gave me a fruit drier, and I have dried papaya and apple slices and look forward to trying other fruits!

I do enjoy having help around the house – and it would be difficult to manage without it here since all our clothes and nappies are hand-washed. We have been blessed with an extremely conscientious and cheerful house-help, who also loves the boys and is very good with them. We are going to miss her when we move!

I have always said I'd like to live more simply, and being here has forced me to do that. It is refreshing to strip away non-essentials and realise how much more you appreciate treats when they are fewer and harder to find!

Over the years I've belonged to some quite different kinds of churches, and here is different again. I love the lively music, but struggle a bit to concentrate on the sermon when the French microphone always seems to be turned down lower than the Bariba microphone – plus I'm sitting at the back with mums and kids wandering in and out, with at least one of my boys sitting on me getting bored. There is no crèche here – if your baby makes a fuss then you just take yourselves outside and sit on the steps of the church in the sun, or stand under a tree. Since Benjy's morning nap is now bang in the middle of the morning I have now missed a few Sundays. Not something I necessarily recommend – and sometimes Marc stays at home and I go to church – but I'd rather have some (oh-so-rare!) peace and quiet at home while Benjy naps than stand outside church trying to manage an overtired, hyperactive baby!

I don't want to complain, but also don't want to give too rosy a picture of life here. We do, of course, miss friends and family. New friendships are always harder work, and particularly when they are cross-cultural – which is true here of both our relationships with other missionaries and with the Beninese. Internet access – or lack of such – is also an ongoing frustration. I miss having a choice of foodstuffs in big European supermarkets. Power cuts sometimes come at the most inconvenient moments. Our boys are wonderful, but they do try our patience at times, and with broken nights we have been suffering from tired-all-the-time syndrome. Life has its downs as well as its ups, but I prefer to focus on the ups – and I think there are more of them, overall!

PS And if you are wondering why I haven't said much about how Marc is finding life here, you'll just have to go and visit his blog to find out (he writes some of it in English).

well-established

Yesterday I thought to ask Abraham where the word “Monkolé” – describing his people and their language – came from. I wondered if it was linked to the fact that “moko” in Monkolé means “man” (the “o” after the “m” is automatically nasalised) as I had read that many tribes, worldwide, have a word for themselves which just means “the men” or “the people”. But in fact, according to Abraham, in this case it has nothing to do with that.

The Monkolé language is closely related to the Yoruba language, and their common ancestors came from Nigeria. Abraham told us that the people migrated west to the North of Benin (not that it was called Benin at the time!) and then some of them suggested going back again. The others answered them in Yoruba, “Mon ko lé” which apparently means “we've already built houses”, ie. we don't want to go back as we are well established here.

Amazing what you discover through one simple question!

PS And on the subject of being well-established, today we are celebrating six months in Benin!

call a spade a spade and a "maman" a "maman"!

Marc wrote a blog post about his many names, and I thought that it was such a good idea that I would write my own about mine!

Back in 2005, when I was finishing my PhD, a friend from Cameroon told me that when I got to Africa I would find that if I had a doctorate, people would always call me “Docteur”. At the time, this didn't sound too bad to me – I felt like it would be nice to have my perseverance and hard work acknowledged! As my doctorate faded into the past though, I realised that “Docteur” had a rather formal sound to it, and I was quite relieved when I arrived here and discovered that what most of the Beninese call me is “Maman” (French for “mum”) or “Maman Simon/Benjamin”. I'd rather be “Maman” than “Madame”, and it just isn't the done thing here for someone younger than me to call me by my first name, so “Maman” suits me fine!

Of course, Benjy isn't talking yet, and Simon actually calls me “Mummy”, unless he's talking about me to someone in French, in which case he says “Maman” with a Beninese accent, making it sound more like “Mamain”.

Being “Maman” also gives me the status of being a respectable, married woman with children … and so I'm not plagued with marriage proposals as I was when I was here short-term as a single girl!

In Monkolé “Maman Simon” is “Iyayie Simon” (if I write it as it sounds) so I'm getting used to that being me too!

Marc and I rarely call each other by our first names, we usually use “chéri(e)” and were very amused when Simon started to call Marc “chéri”. I told him he could say “Papa chéri” (kind of equivalent to “Dearest Daddy”), and it has stuck, which is sweet.

The other thing we are called quite a lot is “baturé”, which means “white person”, and it is usually shouted at us by kids on the street. It doesn't bother me really, and almost as often we will be greeted by polite children who say “bonne arrivée” (“welcome”) which always earns them a big smile from me!

In Beninese families the children have their own first names but there are also names which mean “first son”, “second son”, “first daughter” and so on. So Simon can also be called “Woru” and Benjy is “Shabbi” (or in Monkolé “Sabi” as they don't have the sound “sh”). As a first daughter, I am “Nyo”. Simon knows who “Woru” and “Shabbi” are, and Benjy responds when addressed as “Shabbi” (Esther often calls him that).

How many different names do you have?

change of plans

We had a small problem at the annual conference. His name was Benjy. That is a bit unfair, but it does seem as if when we said we were going to our Spiritual Life Conference, Benjy misheard, and thought it was Sleepless Nights Conference! A change of environment or bed always upsets his night-time sleeping – which has never been the best – and this was the worst we'd had so far. The first night at the conference I only got four and a half hours sleep, in several bits. The day which followed saw an overtired Simon refusing to do anything his parents asked him to, and Benjy spending an hour in the afternoon screaming because he was so short on sleep but still couldn't drop off! The second night, Benjy didn't once sleep an entire hour without waking up and crying – and we were worried he'd wake up our neighbours so kept taking him out to the car, the only place where his screams were muffled!

All this meant that by the second morning I was at the end of my tether. I knew I couldn't possibly go on with so little sleep. The days were hard enough, but at night I was feeling really desperate. So Marc went to see our Director, who talked with her Deputy and his wife, and they agreed that although Conference is supposed to be obligatory, for our own sakes it was better that we go home. I was very relieved to know that the nightmare was going to be over, but very sad to be leaving Conference early. Despite everything, we had appreciated being with the other SIM missionaries, plus others from our partner missions, and felt like part of one big family. This was reinforced by the reaction to the announcement that we would be leaving – many people came and told us that they understood but were sad to see us go, and assured us of their prayers. Several also made a point of saying when they would next see us.

Fortunately we will be able to listen to the teaching and the individual missionaries' reports, as they are all being recorded.

We travelled home to Parakou after lunch on Wednesday with a colleague who had to leave to go to meetings in South Africa. He was glad of the lift, and we were glad of his company and a fresher driver to share the strain of driving on pot-holed roads! It took four and a half hours, and we arrived in Parakou in a thunderstorm, which was slightly weird as we thought the rainy season was over! That night we got over nine hours sleep, with only two short feeds, nicely spaced four hours apart. Such a blessing! And quite a confirmation that we'd made the right decision to leave.

We'd dropped Esther, our home help, off in Djougou (a city two and a half hours away) on our way to Togo on Monday. Funnily enough, the taxi she took to come back to Parakou overtook us while we were having a break at the side of the road, and she yelled greetings out of the open window as they zoomed past. She then turned up for work at 8.45 the next morning, which was very helpful as we had a lot of dirty washing!! She's always fun to have around, too, and the boys like to watch her work – or even help out.

international travel

Tomorrow we will get to visit our second West African country (if you don't count Libya, where we changed planes on our way here!). We are driving over to Togo, for the week-long annual conference of SIM Benin-Togo. It's being held at the SIL Centre in Kara and about 70 of us are going - SIM missionaries, TWR missionaries and a few missionaries from other missions also serving in Benin or Togo. Benjy will be the youngest there, but there are quite a lot of kids, which should make it fun for both our boys. Sleep tends to get messed up (even more than usual) when we travel, so that should make it "fun" for both us parents! Ah well, it should still do us good to get a break from the usual routine of language lessons and spend some time being taught and getting to know the others better.

Back soon!

please, thank-you and blue skies

We discover interesting things every day about the culture here through discussions with our language helper, Abraham. For example, politeness works differently. “Please” and “thank you” are used, but not in the same way as we would use them or at the same time. If you give someone something, they may thank you at the time, but they will make absolutely sure the following day to say, “Thank you for yesterday!” (When we forget to do so, they must think us very ungrateful.)

There was another example that came up in a sentence Marc had written in his “homework”. He wrote that he had asked the tailor to make him some clothes. Abraham said, “No, that's the verb 'to ask', you want to say 'I told the tailor to make me some clothes'”, with the implication that since the tailor's job is to make clothes and he obviously wants custom, you don't need to ask him to do it, you can just tell him to!

On a completely different subject, Marc commented the other day that the weather means we now feel further from Europe than we did a few months ago. In the European summer, when temperatures were in the 30s there, it didn't seem that strange to be living in the heat here. But now that Europe is heading into winter, our cloudless skies and hot sunshine do make it hard for us to believe that it is November!

verb me a verb!

If you are learning English, getting the hang of the verb “get” will get you (aha!) a long way. It is, however, difficult to grasp all the different nuances of meaning it can carry, especially when used with different prepositions as a compound verb. “Get on”, “get off”, “get with”, “get at” and so on. When I was in France, some fellow doctorate students asked me to proof-read an article they'd written about several uses of “get”. I had to disagree with them when they said that “to get through” a bad experience was the same thing as “to get over” it. (To me, “getting through” something simply means surviving it, whereas “getting over” it implies that it no longer bothers you. You could say about someone, “he got through the war, but he never got over it”.)

In Monkolé, we've noticed two verbs which have a wider meaning than their literal translation in French or English. The first literally means “to find” and the second literally means “to leave”. So they would be used in sentences such as “I've found a friend” or “I left the house this morning”. But “to find” is also used in sentences which would literally be translated as “I've found years thirty-three” (ie. I'm thirty-three years old) or when haggling over prices “francs one hundred won't find” (ie. I won't go down as far as one hundred francs). “To leave” can be used in an expression which literally means “why it left”, meaning “because”.

Abraham used another expression containing this verb which appealed to me a lot. He and I were having our recurring, good-natured argument about whether it's true that “people say various things, but what's in the dictionary is the real Monkolé”. (He says it is, I say that what's in the dictionary is an arbitrary standard form.) Anyway, he was saying something (in French), and I was interrupting him (also in French) because I was sure I'd heard him say the same things many times before, and he said, “jom a chucku titan”. It means “first let me fall [before you rush to pick me up]!”

Still on the subject of language, it is interesting to see the way that Simon's linguistic competence is developing. When we arrived in Benin he spoke more English than French (though he understood French as well as English) after having spent 18 months in England with only his Papa speaking French to him. Nowadays, though, he spends more time speaking French than English, and it is quite obvious that his French has overtaken his English (at least in production, probably not in comprehension). A lot of the time he is speaking French with the Beninese, and we have already noticed a Beninese accent creeping in on certain words (his nasal vowels are rising, to be technical!). He also knows greetings in Baatonu and Monkolé, and we are quite sure that after a few months in the village his Monkolé will have outstripped ours!

Benjy is babbling away, and rather than him learning our language from us, Simon seems to be learning Benjy's language from him. At mealtimes Benjy will say something like “da-da-da” and Simon will repeat “da-da-da”, then Benjy will say “gung-gung-gung” and once again Simon will repeat it!

verb me a verb!

If you are learning English, getting the hang of the verb “get” will get you (aha!) a long way. It is, however, difficult to grasp all the different nuances of meaning it can carry, especially when used with different prepositions as a compound verb. “Get on”, “get off”, “get with”, “get at” and so on. When I was in France, some fellow doctorate students asked me to proof-read an article they'd written about several uses of “get”. I had to disagree with them when they said that “to get through” a bad experience was the same thing as “to get over” it. (To me, “getting through” something simply means surviving it, whereas “getting over” it implies that it no longer bothers you. You could say about someone, “he got through the war, but he never got over it”.)

In Monkolé, we've noticed two verbs which have a wider meaning than their literal translation in French or English. The first literally means “to find” and the second literally means “to leave”. So they would be used in sentences such as “I've found a friend” or “I left the house this morning”. But “to find” is also used in sentences which would literally be translated as “I've found years thirty-three” (ie. I'm thirty-three years old) or when haggling over prices “francs one hundred won't find” (ie. I won't go down as far as one hundred francs). “To leave” can be used in an expression which literally means “why it left”, meaning “because”.

Abraham used another expression containing this verb which appealed to me a lot. He and I were having our recurring, good-natured argument about whether it's true that “people say various things, but what's in the dictionary is the real Monkolé”. (He says it is, I say that what's in the dictionary is an arbitrary standard form.) Anyway, he was saying something (in French), and I was interrupting him (also in French) because I was sure I'd heard him say the same things many times before, and he said, “jom a chucku titan”. It means “first let me fall [before you rush to pick me up]!”

Still on the subject of language, it is interesting to see the way that Simon's linguistic competence is developing. When we arrived in Benin he spoke more English than French (though he understood French as well as English) after having spent 18 months in England with only his Papa speaking French to him. Nowadays, though, he spends more time speaking French than English, and it is quite obvious that his French has overtaken his English (at least in production, probably not in comprehension). A lot of the time he is speaking French with the Beninese, and we have already noticed a Beninese accent creeping in on certain words (his nasal vowels are rising, to be technical!). He also knows greetings in Baatonu and Monkolé, and we are quite sure that after a few months in the village his Monkolé will have outstripped ours!

Benjy is babbling away, and rather than him learning our language from us, Simon seems to be learning Benjy's language from him. At mealtimes Benjy will say something like “da-da-da” and Simon will repeat “da-da-da”, then Benjy will say “gung-gung-gung” and once again Simon will repeat it!

communication problems

One thing which is very different about life here compared to Europe is communication. On the surface, things look similar – we have post, internet and mobile phones. But letters can take between a week and a month to arrive, parcels take longer and sometimes don't arrive (so far 6 of the 8 parcels we know have been sent have got here safely), internet is unreliable and – when it does work – extremely slow, and calling with a mobile phone is expensive. (Though strangely, it doesn't seem to cost any more to phone Europe than it does to phone someone with a mobile phone on another network within Benin!)

This can get frustrating. You think you're getting used to it, and then you realise another parcel has gone astray, or a letter has taken 3 months to arrive, or you can't access your emails for a few days … and suddenly you feel cut off from those you love. And afraid that they won't realise it isn't your fault you're out of touch, and will think you just can't be bothered to reply.

So if you've written to me, or left comments on facebook (ah yes, I do vaguely remember my facebooking days), or are wondering why I'm posting less frequently on my blog … bear with me!

confused in translation

When I was teaching English in a business school in French, my students often had to produce a kind of project as part of their final evaluation. One term, a student who had come to fewer than half my classes handed in a piece of work which immediately looked suspect. It consisted of 4 or 5 sheets of printed paper, with very long sentences and no pictures or diagrams.

As soon as I began to read, I burst out laughing, amused but not at all impressed. It was clear that the student in question had gone to a French website on his chosen subject, swiped the text, and fed it through an online translation machine to get an English "equivalent". The translation was so literal that I had no trouble back-translating the first line, googling it, and turning up the original website.

The student of course got zero for his piece of work, and I did have to wonder whether he really thought he'd get away with it, or whether he just couldn't have cared less. It would show an utter lack of understanding of language to think that a computer could successfully “translate” an entire text in a way that would fool a native speaker into thinking it had originally been written in the target language. (Or perhaps he thought I wanted to spend as little time marking it as he wanted to spend producing it, and so would just put a random grade on it!)

I tell this story because learning Monkolé has reminded me of how difficult translation can be. Concepts which exist and are easily described in one language may be impossible to render in another. In Monkolé, for example, there are no such words as “brother”, “sister” or “sibling”. Instead, one speaks of “opposite-sex sibling”, “younger same-sex sibling” and “older same-sex sibling”. Which means that I use the same word to speak of my younger sisters as Marc does to speak of his younger brothers. So how do you translate “X the brother of Y” in the Bible, if you don't know which of them was the elder?

In a similar way, you can't say “son” or “daughter”, you have to say “boy-child” or “girl-child”. Which might sound unproblematic, until you realise that if you say to a Monkolé speaker, “Jesus is the boy-child of God” (you can't say “God's boy-child), it sounds to them as if God also has a girl-child! (The decision of the translators of the New Testament was to simply say “the child of God”, since a “perfect” translation isn't possible.)

Although this creates some frustrations when learning a new language, it is also fascinating, and gives a glimpse into some of the ways in which we think so differently from people from another culture.

There are of course lots of other difficulties which are encountered when translating, and I'm sure I will be writing more about them in the future!

turn turn turn

One of my dad's favourite sayings is: “Constant change is here to stay!” and that is particularly true of missionary life. On our wedding anniversary in August I said to Marc, “Wow – 5 years, 3 countries and 2 boys – not bad!” But I am hoping it won't be 10 years, 6 countries and 4 boys (and don't even get me started on 15 years, 9 countries and 6 boys!!!).

We have moved about so much in the past 2 years that I don't know any more what would really count as a “proper” move and what was just visiting! And that isn't about to end – we have another two moves planned in the next year … and by then it will be less than a year until our first Home Assignment! But we are used to it, and by the grace of God the boys seem to be coping well.

We parents had a class on transition in our Pastoral Studies course at All Nations. We looked at the cycle of transition (belonging, disengaging, leaving, entering, belonging) and the feelings and behaviours often associated with the different stages. It certainly helps to realise that your way of reacting to things is completely normal!

I suppose the danger for us is that we are so used to moving that we never really reach the belonging stage where we feel settled … but I hope that once we are living in Pèdè we will get there at some point!

This subject was on my mind last week because of changes which Simon has been experiencing. As I said, he has always taken change in his stride, and until now, as long as he had Papa and Mummy everything was fine. During the months of August and September, however, he got used to (yet) a(nother) new routine during our morning language lessons. He had a girl called Rachel looking after him, and 3 Beninese kids (aged 1, 4 and 6) who came to play with him while their mum worked for our neighbours. We often didn't see Simon all morning as they would go out onto our (large) compound to play, sing and dance!

Now Rachel has had to go back to school, as term started last Monday. Our neighbour has moved away, which means that Simon's little friends are no longer on the compound. This big change in routine hit Simon hard. Esther, our home help, was happy to keep an eye on Simon while she works, but he no longer had an adult at his disposal or friends his age to play with. Later in the week Esther brought her sister's daughter with her, and that cheered Simon up a lot. I did feel sorry for him on Tuesday morning though, as he sat sadly in our living room looking at Abraham, Marc and myself working on Monkolé (I took pity on him and read a book with him until Esther arrived).

He is too young to understand that as a missionary kid he is going to have to get used to big changes happening fairly regularly. I am just grateful that although he doesn't necessarily like changes to his routine, he does enjoy meeting and getting to know new people. And Benjy seems to be the same!

Extra note: This post has taken a while to be posted because of problems with the internet. We have probably found someone new to look after the boys – and she is even a Monkolé speaker! We thought there weren't any others in town!! She will start with us on Monday.

oop North

Ten days ago we went “up North” for the weekend. A bit of background might help to explain where we were and what we were doing.

In 2002 I first came to Benin with a short-term mission team from France. We stayed in a town called Kandi, hosted by the local pastor and his wife. We visited churches in villages around Kandi and put on open-air events with the double objective of advertising the lending library set up by the Kandi church and sharing the good news of Jesus. During the trip I began to wonder whether God might be showing me that the next step for me after I finished my linguistics doctorate in France would be to return to Benin to work in translation work.

So in 2003 I came back to Benin on my own to spend 3 weeks with Grace Birnie, in Pèdè, a village near Kandi. Grace is a Canadian missionary who has been working with the Monkolé language for many years. She worked with Monkolé informants to analyse and write down the language, before beginning the translation of the Bible. The time I spent with her and her team made me fairly sure that God was calling me to work in Benin. At that point I assumed I'd be coming here on my own, but God had different plans!

In 2004 Marc and I got married, and in 2006 Marc came to Benin with a short-term team. He was working in the South of the country, but did visit Parakou, where our mission (SIM) has its headquarters, to talk with missionaries about possibilities for us to work here as a couple. He met a missionary who had worked on the type-setting of the Monkolé New Testament (published that year) and she told him that with Grace soon to retire, there was an opportunity for me to take her place on the translation team, and for him to work in discipleship and leadership training in the Monkolé churches.

This idea was approved by both SIM France (our sending office) and SIM Benin-Togo. Later, SIM Benin-Togo decided to keep us in Parakou for our first months, so that we could get to know other SIM missionaries better and meet the leadership of the Union of Evangelical Churches. They also felt that life in Parakou, a large town, would make the transition easier for us. So we have been living in a mission house in Parakou since we arrived here in May. God has provided Abraham, a student from Pèdè who has been studying in Parakou, to help us begin learning Monkolé. (Here in Parakou the main language is Baatonu, and hardly anyone speaks Monkolé.)

Our trip up North was therefore Marc and our boys' first opportunity to see the village of Pèdè and to meet the pastor and church there. It was also the first time they would see Grace's house, which we will eventually live in after her retirement in June next year.

The journey was wearisome, as we had to travel over a lot of what I call “Swiss cheese road”, with pot-holes sometimes 30cm or so deep, and capable of damaging your car badly if you accidentally drop into them. What took 3 hours back in 2003 when the road was newer, now took us nearly 5 hours (including a short break to feed Benjy).

Our first night there didn't exactly give us our much-needed rest. The four of us were sharing Grace's bedroom (she was in the small guestroom) and Benjy woke three times and I had to feed him to get him back to sleep (these days he is usually on just one feed a night). Then a cock started crowing outside our bedroom window at 2.30am and carried on for the rest of the night! Since the windows here never shut entirely, it was as if the cock was in the room with us, and we found it impossible to sleep!

Still, the rest of the weekend was well worth it. It was great to see Pastor Samuel again and to spend a lot of time talking with him and with Grace about our future move to Pèdè. At church on Sunday Marc introduced us in Monkolé, which earned us a very warm welcome! We were encouraged to find that we could understand some of the things people said – obviously our hard language learning work is paying off!

The plan now is that (all being well) we will move up there in January, and we will spend the months until Grace's retirement in a small house next door to her. Our lifestyle will change as much, if not more, as it did in the move from Europe to Benin. There is no mains electricity or running water in the village, so Grace has a solar power system which powers her fridge, lights and well pump. The small house has a kerosene fridge and its solar system just supplies enough power for 12V lights for the evening and small 12V fans for the night (apparently very necessary in dry season).

The biggest logistical question at the moment is whether Grace's solar power system can supply the amount of electricity needed to pump enough well water for us and her without her fridge shutting down! There may be another solution though, as a mission-owned petrol-powered pump has become available. We would welcome prayer that everything would fall into place for a January move, as we would like to have a few months' overlap with Grace.

sun, sand and sense of humour

It seems to me that language learning can be a bit like walking along a beach on a sunny day. Let me explain. When you start out, you look around and enjoy the fresh air, the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand under your feet. In language learning there is lots to discover and it's all new and interesting. As your beach walk continues, you begin to realise that walking in sand is hard work … and it would be so much easier to walk on solid ground. In language learning it seems such an effort to say anything in the new language that it becomes tempting just to use your own (or even your second, in my case!).

Another image I like is that of learning to drive a car. At the beginning you feel there is far too much to think about at once, and you despair of ever managing to put it all together and not find it a struggle. But eventually, after practice and perseverance, it comes naturally, and you don't have to think about all the little things separately any more.

One thing I have enjoyed discovering lately is the sense of humour and irony in Monkolé. We were talking with Abraham about the expression “abaa”, which means “bonne arrivée” (as they say in Beninese French) or “bienvenu” (or in English "welcome"). He said that it can also be used in a figurative sense. For example, if someone states confidently that it is going to rain, when there is no obvious reason to think so, you can say to them “abaa”, ie. “oh, you've been up to talk to God and He's told you that? Well, welcome back!” In the same way, if someone is talking like an expert about how things are in the United States, when they've never been there, you can also say, “Abaa” (“welcome back from your travels!”). If they have taken it in good humour, they will give the conventional reply, "O-oh".

Talking of travels, we did go up to the North of Benin last weekend. More about that soon...

(PS I have just been reflecting on the fact that using internet here is a lot like walking through sand … or swimming through treacle … or drowning in quick-set cement!)

tooth-ee two

Extra note: It turns out that my dentist really likes to take her time. She didn't do the final filling last week. Instead she removed the temporary filling and the other filling already in that tooth, and cleaned out the hole thoroughly. Then she put in another temporary filling, to check how the tooth would react, and only did the final filling today, five days later. But she still hasn't polished it up – I have to go back in a week's time when she will inspect the filling to see if any of it has been worn smooth, which would show that it was too high, in which case she would take a bit off. Only then will she finish it off … and only then will I actually pay anything!

language study

I have been meaning to write a post about language study for a while now … and here it is at last!

We have been studying Monkolé for six weeks. For those who are interested, it is a tonal language, with three distinct tones – rising, falling and flat. These correspond approximately to the tones used in English on the word 'right' in the following examples. Firstly, when someone wants to check they've understood and says, “You're coming with us, right?”, then when someone answers such a question with “Right,” and then when someone is giving instructions and says “Turn right at the next traffic lights.” If I have chosen my examples well, a native English speaker should recognise that in the first the voice rises, in the second it drops, and in the third it remains in “neutral”. But in an English sentence it is rare that the intonation of a single word will affect the meaning of that word, it is usually what is implied by the sentence which changes. In Monkolé the tone of a single word, or even a single syllable, is extremely important, as it can mark the difference between “house” and “robber”, “sun” and “smell”, “yesterday” and “parent-in-law”! The context will usually reveal which it should be – so if we as language learners can't hear the difference we will probably be able to guess it – but if we don't use the right tones when we speak we will be understood but probably laughed at!

Tenses don't really exist in Monkolé. Aspect is marked instead, which is whether an action is completed, continuous, habitual or potential. Words like “yesterday” or “now” are used to indicate when the action takes place.

When Monkolé is written it uses the international phonetic alphabet, but since I'm not sure I can use it on blogger, and you may not know how to read it, I am going to write approximate spellings using English sounds. I'm not marking the tones because there are so many of them and I'm not sure how to get all the accents I'd need!

Verbs aren't conjugated, instead small words are used before and after the verb to show what or who is the subject and/or object of that verb. There are several small suffixes such as -i or -u which do attach to the verb to indicate relationships like possession. So “ilaalu” is the king, “ile” is house, and “ilei ilaalu” is the king's house. But of course, if your voice goes down instead of up on the “e” of “ile” then you are actually saying “the king's robber”!

Some nouns are composite nouns. So “akoh” means car, but “akoh nla” (literally “big car”) means lorry, “akoh laylay” (“sky car”) is a plane and “akoh-i inyi” (“car of the water”) is a boat. A train however, is “pee-pah” … say it out loud if you can't work out why that should be!

Our textbook is a series of lessons produced by the missionary who originally analysed and wrote down the language, and who later translated the New Testament with a team of Monkolé speakers. The lessons are based around dialogues, which we read, repeat, try to understand, pick out grammar points, practise and replace words … and often we go off on sidetracks which mean that we discover even more vocabulary and helpful expressions. We study 3 hours every weekday morning, which would be a lot if it were just intensive language study, but we also take the opportunity to ask Abraham questions about life in the village (more posts to come about things we've found out!).

After six weeks of lessons we can construct simple sentences about everyday life, and understand them … if Abraham repeats them several times and slowly! We have the complaint of every language learner – people speak so fast in real life!! But we do have a feeling of satisfaction when Abraham arrives in the morning and we can greet him in Monkolé and pass on snippets of our news from the day before.

We are aware that we are extremely blessed to have Abraham as a language helper. He is intelligent, patient and very honest. He has a good sense of humour too, which is appreciated on days when we are feeling tired and befuddled!

We continue to be very grateful for Rachel, who looks after the boys while we are in lessons. She too is very patient, and Simon thinks she is wonderful! Benjy always looks very happy to see her too.

tooth-ee or not tooth-ee

“Severe toothache and dental abscesses are surprisingly common in those living overseas. […] Severe or recurrent toothache is a common reason for having to cut short a visit or assignment.”

So states the new edition of the “Traveller's Good Health Guide” by Ted Lankester (published by Interhealth). I can well believe it, and we deliberately had dental check-ups shortly before we left the UK. On Monday, however, after a week of constant toothache I finally got up enough courage to ring a dentist. The guide also advises asking around to find a trusted dentist and this one came highly recommended by other missionaries here. Her house (where she also has her surgery) isn't your typical Beninese dwelling – the waiting room is in a tower and the ceiling you stare at as she examines your mouth is ornately carved wood! She is very small, very sure of herself and put me at ease at once. Unfortunately, she also told me I have a huge hole in one of my teeth and need a filling urgently. So she's temporarily filled the hole – I am already in a lot less pain! - and I'm going back this afternoon to have the proper filling done.

Although it isn't much fun having a filling, at least afterwards we will be less worried about needing dental work done out here. It is always reassuring to know where you can go and who will be looking after you!

a new typical day

Our life has changed quite a lot since I last wrote about a typical day for us, so I thought I would describe the day we had today.

7am Quite untypically, Benjy has slept through the night, so at 7 he is very hungry and glad of a feed. Then while I'm showering Marc prepares breakfast and the boys play.
7.45am Breakfast. Rachel, who looks after the boys during our language lessons, arrives at 8 as her dad drops her off on his way to work. When we've finished eating Marc has his shower, I do the washing up and Rachel takes the boys. Simon falls over on the verandah and splits his lip, so I go and comfort him.
9am Benjy is already having his first nap of the day, and Simon is outside with Rachel. Our language helper, Abraham, arrives and greets me in Monkolé: “Irei ì sũ?” I reply, “Alàáfìai. Irei ì sũ yá?” We spend the morning revising yesterday's lesson, asking questions which came up while we were working on our language notes yesterday evening, and learning vocabulary to do with various daily activities. Simon, and Benjy when he wakes up, play outside with Rachel and our neighbour's home help's three children. At one point we can hear them singing together.
12pm Abraham leaves and Rachel's dad comes to pick her up. He is a tailor (and a taxi-moto driver) and has just finished a pair of trousers for Marc. I get on with cooking.
12.45pm Lunchtime. We eat a kind of Spanish omelette I've invented, and fresh banana-and-pineapple purée for pudding. While we're eating, our home help Esther, arrives. She eats then gets on with the washing.
2pm Afternoon nap. Neither of the boys get off to sleep very fast. Simon sings in his bed for quite some time.
3pm I leave Marc in charge of the sleeping boys and cross the compound to our neighbours' house where the missionary prayer meeting is being held this afternoon. I'm the one leading it (for the first time!). There are 10 of us there, and I share a kind of “Thought for the Day” before we pray for international events, for local events and for each other.
4.30pm I return home and Marc has a quick trip into town for light bulbs and envelopes. I make some bread.
6.30pm We have a light meal (toast, salad, cheese and fruit) and then it's bath- and bedtime for the boys.
8pm I make homemade granola and unfortunately burn the second batch as I get engrossed in writing emails.
9pm I write a blog post (this one!) and wonder whether once I've finished and attempted to post it I will have the time and energy to do some Monkolé revision … and I know I ought to!!

PS Yes, I have had confirmation that I passed the driving test … as did everyone else who turned up for it! Thank you to all who encouraged me!

Driving test (3)

I tried to post this yesterday but had problems with the internet. Sorry for those of you who were getting impatient waiting for news!



The test itself!! (Theory and road tests.)

I arrived for the theory test at 6.50am on Tuesday, as it was supposed to start at 7am. I had been told it would be over by 7.20, so thought that even if it ran over I would be back home by breakfast at 8. It was easy to see where the test would be taking place, as there was a crowd of about 50 people (which grew to more than 100) outside the school. These people all had two things in common – they were male and Beninese, which did make me stand out just a little! I was glad to see some faces I knew from my driving school, so I didn't have to stand alone like Billy No-Mates! Some other women turned up eventually, including one I knew from my driving school … but I can't honestly say that made me feel less conspicuous!

At 7.30 we were ushered into the school grounds, as someone official had at last turned up. He got the room opened, and started moving furniture around. Some kids were hanging about, so he got them sweeping the room … which seemed to do more harm than good when we saw huge billows of dust coming out of door and windows!!

At about 7.45 the equipment – projector and so on – arrived … and finally at 8.30ish they called us together for a quick speech about the dangers of drink driving, speeding (“we are starting to get like those Europeans who rush everywhere”) and so on. Then they started calling names out for people to come up, present their ID cards and file into the examination room. When they said, “Ok, 6 more!” I realised that I wasn't likely to pass that time round, and started worrying about Benjy, since by then it was 8.45 and he still hadn't had his morning feed. However, I didn't want to say anything to try to get special attention, as I was afraid the other candidates would think it was because I was white that I was putting myself forward.

With the stress of the test, of waiting, and of worrying about my baby, I shed a few tears, and my friends from my driving school went and told someone official that I needed to go through in the second round. I called Marc, and he actually brought Benjy down, so I was able to feed him before passing the test … though to be honest I seemed to be more worried about Benjy being hungry than Benjy himself! (I seem to be the one suffering from separation anxiety instead of him!)

The test was fine. By the end of it I was pretty sure that I had at least 15 right answers according to the manual … I was just hoping that the manual was right on them all (since at the driving school we had found some errors in it!). By the time I finally got home it was 10am and I was exhausted!

We were told that the results of the test would be given to us at 3pm, and that if there was time some people would be able to take the practical test after that, leaving fewer people to pass it on Wednesday morning. I went and joined my fellow students at 3pm … and we played the waiting game again! At least this time we didn't have the stress of the test ahead of us … but we did have the heat of the day, and even in the shade it was hot! I managed to find some steps to sit on after the first half an hour … and waited … and waited … and waited.

At last, towards 6pm, I went to where I could see the Big Boss talking with some driving school instructors, and said, “I'm sorry, but I need to get home for my baby. What should I do?”

The Big Boss said, “Come tomorrow morning at 7.” He could obviously see from my face that I was wondering if he meant I had to wait until then to find out whether I'd passed, and he said, “You've passed the theory … actually, I was just about to come and tell you that.”

Hmmm … I wasn't sure how to take that, but since I was pretty sure that I really had done well enough on the test, it seemed a bit picky to insist to see my test paper to make sure that he wasn't just pulling strings for me. And I was extremely relieved to be able to go home at last. (Benjy greeted me with a huge smile and much clapping of his hands, then his face crumpled as he realised how hungry he was … but I was happy to oblige him!)

The next morning when I arrived at 7am for the road test, I learnt that everyone had passed the theory test. Which didn't particularly reassure me that it had been marked very rigorously, but at least I obviously hadn't been subject to any special treatment!

The “road” test was actually carried out on a piece of waste ground where 3 small circuits had been organised using wooden markers. We were put into groups of about 30, one for each circuit, and the driving school cars were shared out between them. I spent an hour watching other people drive around until I finally got my turn. All that was required was to drive out of the parking space, do a 3-point turn, reverse around a corner and reverse for about 5 metres, do a parallel park and then a reverse park. Dodging other cars, pedestrians and random motorbikes as you went! When I got out of the car the official watching said to me, “You obviously already knew how to drive,” which I took to be a good sign.

I asked if I could leave then, to get back to Benjy, and was told by the director of my driving school that the results would be given that afternoon at the same place and time as the day before. I must have looked unconvinced, as he asked me, “Will that be a problem?” So I answered, “Well, it's just a bit difficult with the baby!” thinking, “I'm not spending another afternoon away from my family to wait under the sun for results which may never arrive!” So he said, “Ok, you can call by the driving school at 4, then.”

We did call in at the driving school at 4 yesterday, and were told that the results hadn't come through yet, so I was glad I hadn't gone to the other place at 3!! I still haven't heard officially, but as the secretary at the driving school said, it should be fine! I will let you know when I am sure!

So to summarise, the driving test consisted of 6½ hours of waiting, 20 minutes of theory test and under 5 minutes of actual driving! I feel my patience was tested more than anything else!!

Driving test (2)

Sometimes when you are living in another culture it is hard to figure out “how things work”. Take driving lessons, for example. In the UK, when I learned to drive, I had to book lessons with a driving instructor. We arranged a date and time, and I knew I could expect him to turn up outside my house with the driving school car at that date and time, and take me out for an hour's drive.

Here things were already complicated slightly by my already knowing how to drive … in Europe! So I had no problem knowing how to use the car, I just felt I needed to know more about specifically driving in Benin, and of course needed to be familiar with the Highway Code of Benin.

At the driving school I was told first of all, “No problem, no problem, you know how to drive! We'll just send you out with a monitor once to see the route of the exam.” “Er yes, and could I have a copy of the Highway Code?” “Oh, you don't need to worry about that!” “No really, I'd like to!” “Ok, we can sell you a copy.”

What I bought turned out not to be the Highway Code, but the learner's manual, which is actually a collection of multiple choice questions (and answers!) that could turn up in the exam. All 600 of them!

I went in to sign up in mid-July and they tried to persuade me to take the test at the end of the month. I insisted that I'd rather have more time to revise, and would prefer the end of August. I went back again mid-August and found that the director of the driving school was still very laidback, whereas his secretary was saying, “You've left it a bit late!” It turned out she didn't realise I'd lived in France and was used to driving on the right, but she still thought I should be getting some practice in.

My problem though, was knowing how to get myself a lesson. When I asked them if I should book, they said, “No, no! Just turn up, we work with the client's availability!” Having in my head the British system of going out with an instructor, I didn't quite see how this would work, but decided I'd just have to go along with it. (That said, I had seen driving school cars out with 4 learners in them, each one being driven around by someone else before having their turn, and I hoped they wouldn't make me go through that!)

But last week I turned up one afternoon, to be told by the secretary, “Hmm, they were doing theory this morning, I don't know if they're doing driving practice this afternoon...” … which kind of confirmed my idea that it wasn't as simple as they made it seem! She called the director on his mobile phone, had a conversation in which the only part in French was, “La Blanche est venue pour aller sur le terrain,” (“the white woman has come to go out driving”) and then said to me, “Ok, sit down, he's coming to take you out.”

Before the director arrived, two more learners had also turned up, one of whom was bawled out by the secretary for not being able to come to theory classes in the morning (so much for working with the client's availability!). As we left, another learner turned up on his motorbike, and so he and one of the other learners left on the motorbike, while the director said to me, “You behind the wheel!” and I drove him and the other learner to the practice ground. The only thing he told me off for was driving too fast (40km/h, so well under 30mph, on a clear road!) saying in a good-natured way, “Oh, you Europeans, you always want to do everything quickly!” He also told me that in town there is no point changing up out of second gear!

At the practice ground I soon figured out that the practical part of the driving test consists of driving the car around a (very) small circuit. There is a three-point turn, a reverse around a corner, a parallel park and a reverse park, and one of the other learners told me, “As long as you don't knock down any of the markers, you'll pass!” So in fact, it is possible to pass the test without using anything other than first gear and reverse! After spending over an hour watching 7 or 8 others practise, I knew the circuit pretty well, and so did it fine when it was my turn. But the director told me he'd still like me to come back for another afternoon to make sure that I know it well enough.

The second time was quicker, as there were fewer of us, but when I thought I'd take a taxi-moto home, the director of the driving school said, “Where do you live? … Oh, we will be driving near there, we can drop you off!” I wasn't sure how much of a favour it was to be driven home by a learner, and when the director told her to take a dirt track instead of the main road my fears were confirmed! But I did get home safe and sound, so I shouldn't complain!

I also went in twice to take past papers. Both times I got 15/20 (you need 14 to pass) and the first time I should have got 17, but for two of them I mistakenly put down the answers from my learner's manual … which apparently were wrong!! This does not fill me with confidence regarding tomorrow's exam! All the 20 questions are multiple choice, but it isn't just answers A, B, C, D or E, it can also be A and B – A and C – A and D – A, B and C – A, C and D … and so on! And they are purposely worded so that you have to think very hard about it!

Ah well. I will do my best. I am also handicapped by not being overly sure about the “priorité à droite” rule, which if I was French I ought to know very well … it is basically that in the absence of markings, the vehicle coming from the right has priority … except at roundabouts of course. And in reality, here on the road it actually seems to be that the biggest vehicle has the priority! There are also things I honestly didn't know about driving here – like that it is actually in the Highway Code that you should beep before overtaking!

If nothing else, the experience will have done me good as it's got me out of the bubble of missionary life and has also pushed me to use the taxi-motos. Not something I'm very excited about, given the number of motorbike accidents on the roads here (10 days ago we actually witnessed two accidents in the space of five minutes!), but it is good for me to do something that requires being a bit brave :o) I did obey the Highway Code and wear a helmet … unlike the majority of people on motorbikes!

Now I'm praying for non-trick and non-ambiguous questions tomorrow morning!

Oh, and last time I forgot to share two other lovely questions from my manual:

Q.346 If you have a flat tyre when you're alone in your car and don't have a jack, you can:

a. Make a hole in the road to enable you to change the wheel
b. Lift the car up to change the wheel
c. Wait for a passer-by to get help

Q.352 To help children who are waiting to cross the road

a. I stop and wave them over
b. I slow down and get ready to brake if they decide to cross suddenly
c. I don't stop if other cars are coming towards me
d. I get out of my car to help them across the road

Strangely, the correct answers to 352 are given as c and d … which leaves me a little confused (what's wrong with b?), though I do like the idea that stopping to help them is given as a correct answer!

Driving test (1)

As suggested by a friend, here is a sample of some of the possible multiple choice questions from the Beninese Highway Code theory test I'll be taking next week (my translation from the French):

Q.220 At night, to avoid being dazzled:

a. I fix my eyes on the right-hand side of the road
b. I close my eyes for a brief instant
c. I wear dark glasses

Q.310 What is the emergency stop?

a. Coming to an abrupt halt
b. Stopping to put down a passenger
c. A bus stop

Q.315 The pavement is the part of the road reserved for...

a. Street sellers
b. Pedestrians
c. Overtaking when the road is blocked by a traffic jam

Q.344 In a passenger vehicle, one may carry

a. Passengers
b. Passengers and goods
c. Passengers and animals

Q.345 In a car with passengers aboard, I should

a. Smoke
b. Chat
c. Concentrate on my driving

Q.576 The fire extinguisher may be used to

a. Put out a fire in the vehicle
b. Give first aid to an injured person
c. Cool the engine

Admittedly, these are overall rather unrepresentative of the 600 questions, but I will be praying that I get more of these questions than the ones about the functioning of the pistons and spark plugs, or the blurry pictures of crossroads asking me who has priority over whom.

The theory test is Tuesday at 6.30am(!) and the driving part Wednesday at the same time … unless we're told on Tuesday morning that it's actually Tuesday afternoon!

keeping busy!

Life has suddenly got very busy, but I thought I would give a brief update on what we've been up to!

We have come to the end of our second week of language classes. We are learning an African language, Monkolé, which is one of the 50+ languages spoken in Benin. We're following lessons put together by a fellow missionary, who was the person who originally analysed and wrote down this language. Our language helper, Abraham, is a Monkolé man in his twenties, who has been studying here in Parakou. We spend our weekday mornings, from 9 to 12, working with him. The lessons are based around sample dialogues which we repeat, practise and then alter with new vocabulary. We have some grammar notes to go with this.

It is a real challenge to be learning a non-European tonal language, with sounds that we've never had to make before, and where a rising, flat or lowered tone can make all the difference to the meaning. The grammar is completely different too, so I'm sure there will be many more posts about this! As a linguist it is fascinating – as language learners it is daunting! Yet we are both glad to be able to get started on something which is such a vital investment for our future ministry.

We have also had some contact with a short term team sent here by SIM France. They are working in partnership with young Beninese Christians to reach out to local communities in health education and evangelism. It has been great to spend time with them and to see their energy and enthusiasm! Marc was also able to play Superman the other night when their bus broke down and he had to go and rescue them!

We have also had reasons to celebrate! On Tuesday last week it was my birthday, on Wednesday my sister Ruth gave birth to her second son (in the UK) and on Friday we had our 5th wedding anniversary! The missionary ladies here gave me a surprise tea party on my birthday, which was a lovely treat.

munch munch lovely lunch

Just over two years ago, Simon began eating solids, and we decided to go the Baby-Led Weaning route (see my post here). When Benjy reached six months old, we began him on solids, and we are now doing BLW African-style. A few slight differences - the fruit and veg available aren't quite the same, and we are often able to leave him bare-chested instead of trying to cover all clothing with enormous bibs (much easier!) - but the concept is still the same. And Benjy certainly seems to agree with the slogan "food is for fun...!".

in other words...

I could describe our week at the conference in Natitingou in two very different ways.

I could tell you how the four of us shared a small room with a thin plastic mat over a concrete floor, where the only furniture was three mattresses in a row, a camping table, a row of hooks and a cord to hang up towels. Our nearest water source was a standpipe a few metres from our door, and the washroom down the hill had longdrop toilets and cold-water showers. I could describe exactly how many times we were woken each night by one or both of our boys, or our neighbours' door, or the guard dog growling at our door! I could also share with you how hard it is to entertain small children when it pours with rain all day and there is nowhere really set aside for them.

BUT by now you might be feeling sorry for us, so I'd also like to give you another version, equally true...

I could tell you about the hilltop retreat centre which looks like something out of another, enchanted world. Everyone sleeps in little African huts, surrounded by pebbled paths and brightly coloured flower beds. The water is pumped up from deep within the hill, so it can be drunk straight from taps instead of needing to be filtered. Meetings take place in a central, round, open-air hut with a thatched roof. On sunny days small children can play on the rocks by the meeting place, or can go and see the sheep, ducks, monkeys, cats and dogs that live at the centre. I could tell you about the hospitality of a family who invited parents and small children for breakfast every morning, in a hobbit house where all the walls curved and the doorways were arched, and the dining table was a slab of rock. I could also tell you about the richness of the training we received and the joy of new friendships and deep fellowship. Taizé chants and Communion on a warm evening, discussions on language learning and African culture, delicious Beninese food, chats about the trials of coping with toddler tantrums...

It was a diverse and challenging week, and we were exhausted at the end of it, yet we also came home full of enthusiasm and vision for our work here in Benin. Praise God, who sustains and renews us!

(And this week we begin learning the Monkolé language!)

cotonou

We spent the last week in Cotonou, the administrative capital of Benin, travelling down on Monday and back on Friday. Our main reason for going was to sign for our residency cards, but since it is a day's journey from Parakou we won't be going often, so we made the most of this visit to get some shopping done.

The journeys went smoothly – despite it being long the boys were very good, and they enjoyed the break at the “Auberge de Dassa” where we ate lunch both on Monday and Friday.

The administrative part of our trip went very quickly. One of the SIM employees in Cotonou, Roger, took us to the immigration office, where we were first in the queue and were processed efficiently! Our fingerprints were even taken electronically, which is certainly less messy than the traditional way!

We had a long shopping list of household items we weren't sure we'd find in Parakou, and the pressure was on to find everything in the three days we had in Cotonou. We were looking particularly for kitchenware, and there is no one shop that has everything at an affordable price – in fact often the selection of things available in one shop seems quite random! We also stocked up on a few luxury foodie items we can't find outside Cotonou, like golden syrup, cocoa powder, Chai tea bags, garam masala spice mix … but I don't feel I enjoyed that part of the shopping as much as I might have because of the urgency of finding the other things!

By Thursday afternoon we had at last found almost everything on the list, and felt that it had been a successful time. Cotonou is not somewhere we like spending time in really, as it is hotter and more humid than Parakou, and very very busy. Plus all four of us had to share a bedroom, which means that the boys wake each other and us up very easily. One night Simon fell out of bed twice quite apart from Benjy's waking for feeds! We are enjoyed staying in the SIM guesthouse though. Marc, who runs it, is very welcoming, and it's always a great way to meet and talk to other missionaries who are passing through.

We avoided the very centre of Cotonou as much as possible, as there is so much traffic – cars, motorbikes and pedestrians everywhere. We would have no chance of parking if it wasn't for men with sticks and whistles who wave at you as soon as they see you looking for a space and usher you into the nearest one with much blowing of aforementioned whistle! Even better, when you have to back out of your space they will step into the road waving their stick to stop oncoming traffic so that you can get out again. They expect a tip, of course, but it is very much worth it!

Twice we just bought a picnic lunch to eat at the guesthouse, but once we managed to find a Chinese restaurant (not the one we were looking for, but equally recommended by our guide book!) and had a very tasty Chinese meal! I could have believed I was in England ;o)

On the journey home we bought roasted peanuts, pineapples and gari (a local cereal) sold at the side of the road. Buying the peanuts was a bit of a stressful experience, as we had 5 or 6 girls run up to my side of the car and all stick their arms through the window with bags of peanuts, all shouting furiously. Trying to decide which peanuts to take and how to pay the right person, while my ears were being bombarded by their cries, not to mention working out how to close the window again when they didn't seem to want to take their arms back out, was exhausting. I don't think we'll be stopping there again next time! (Or else I'll have to ask friends if there is a better technique!)

I spent a lot of the day yesterday packing away the SIM kitchenware we've been borrowing, and washing and putting away our new stuff. It feels more like home now!

on-line at home!

One of the things we managed to get done last week was to sort out internet access at home! We have access via our mobile phone which communicates with our computer by Bluetooth. It is a slow and not necessarily very reliable connection, but we do appreciate being able to get on-line most days! At least if things are taking a long time we can go away and do something useful while we're waiting!

(See Marc's blog for more details in French about internet access in Benin.)

Beep beep!

While Marc can use his French driving licence to drive here, my English licence isn't valid because it doesn't have French on it. One possibility for me would be to get an international driving licence, but I would have to apply (and pay) for it every year in the UK, which is costly and complicated. So I have signed up with a driving school here in Parakou, and for 60,000CFA (about £80) I will be able to have 6 driving lessons (if I need that many), and take the written and road tests. It will be an interesting cross-cultural experience, quite apart from the advantage of ending up with a Beninese driving licence for life! I asked how to go about booking a lesson and was told that I should just turn up and ask for an instructor - “it's you who decide when's best for you” I was told. It seems to me that making the effort to get there just to find out there are no instructors free wouldn't necessarily be the easiest arrangement, but I didn't think they'd appreciate me arguing about it.

We went to find out about it yesterday, and the boss of the school said, “Since you already know how to drive you can take the test on the 27th!” Of this month?! I replied politely that although I can already drive I'd like to familiarise myself with the Beninese Highway Code before the written test. “Oh, you don't need to worry yourself about that!” he answered me, waving a hand dismissively. I insisted that I wasn't in a rush, and would prefer to wait until next month. We are away in Cotonou (sorting out our residency cards) next week, so I won't have time to think about it then, and since I've never driven in Benin before, I'd like to go out with an instructor once or twice just to see what advice they will give me!

So I now have a month and a half to study the 600 multiple choice questions which could come up in the test! (That's fewer than 20 a day to memorise...)

thankfulness

We now have our car! And through the whole process, we have seen how God has provided and put things into place at just the right times. First of all, we were very blessed to receive gifts from people who wanted to help us buy a car for our work out here. On arrival, another missionary recommended an agent at the Port of Cotonou who would be able to find us a car among the secondhand cars that arrive at the port every week. We didn't give a very precise description of the kind of car we wanted, as we weren't sure what would be best, yet the car chosen has turned out to be ideal for us. It is a Toyota Picnic, which is a 6-seater where the back 2 seats can either be put in for extra passengers or left out to give a huge boot. It has air-conditioning, which is very nice in the kind of temperatures we get here, and particularly on long journeys. Despite being secondhand, it is in very good condition, with few signs of wear and tear. And it is silver-coloured, which is very important in my family ;o)

Marc travelled down to Cotonou to fetch the car on Monday. He left home at 5.45am, knowing that he had to be at the bus station by 6.30 but not sure if he would be able to get a taxi-moto at that time in the morning. As he walked along the main road, someone from church (who he didn't even know) recognised him and stopped his journey (in the opposite direction!) to offer him a lift to the bus station. What a blessing!

Then at Cotonou he found out that an experienced missionary had just arrived back from Home Assignment, and was travelling back to Parakou the following day. This worked out very well for both of them. The other missionary didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn to catch the bus, and Marc had someone to help him sort out the car's insurance and had company for the long drive back to Parakou. God was obviously looking after all the details!

they don't make 'em like they used to!

Some generous missionaries with teenage sons made Simon's day a few weeks ago when they passed a whole load of toys on to him. His favourite are the tractors, but the rest of the farm and the Duplo make him very happy too.

These missionaries are currently living somewhere where they don't have mains electricity, so they said they had other things they don't use which we could have. These turned out to be an iron (and ironing board) and a food mixer. Both are Canadian, and so need to be used with an extremely heavy transformer, which scared me when it arrived by its weight and the random wires sticking out of it. But our handyman next-door neighbour put it all back together again, and I started to investigate the food mixer. I was amused to see that it had been bought in 1982 (!) but immediately won over by the enthusiastic description in the instruction-and-recipe book of all that it can do. It's a Vita-Mix Plus … which I had never heard of before, but an American I met yesterday said, “Wow – Vita-Mix are the best!”

So far I have puréed fruit, minced meat and mixed cake batter in it … with great success! And I am sure that Marc is right that if I bought a brand-new standard food mixer in Cotonou now it would probably last less time than this model will carry on working for.

I just have to remember to warn Simon before I use it, as it makes a big noise, and if it takes him by surprise he is not a happy bunny!

another update

(Written 27.06.08)

Our crates arrived just over a week ago. It had been a slightly complicated process to get them through customs and up the country, involving a clearing agent, a large sum of income tax and then helpful friends with empty cars who were driving North! We were glad to see them, and it is very nice to have more of our own things around. I am enjoying cooking with the spices my sister picked up for me in a Middle Eastern souk, Simon and Benjy have “Charlie and Lola” and “Postman Pat” decorating their walls, and we now have family photos up. I also needed the next size of clothes for Benjy, as he was fast growing out of the clothes we'd brought in our suitcases!

It also seems that we have found a car! There again we used a local agent, who works at the port and therefore sees the cars that are imported into the country. He rang at the end of last week to say that he had found a Toyota Picnic (a 7-seater – useful if we are transporting other people). After some negotiation (and prayer!) we agreed to the sale, and are waiting for the next step.

Family news. All of us are in good health, and apart from a couple of days of tummy bug for Marc and me, we have been thriving here! Simon has made friends among the other missionaries' children, and particularly enjoys being looked after by our neighbours' 8 and 10 year old girls. Benjy is showing signs of being as sociable as Simon, if not more so, and gets very cross if everyone else is sitting round the table and he isn't included! He is also very Weeble-like in wanting to sit up all the time, rather than lie down, and everything that passes anywhere near him is grabbed by his clutching hands. He is extremely smiley, and also has very good eyesight, so from the other side of the room he will try to catch his parents' eyes to exchange a grin. He has also started letting out ear-shattering shrieks when bored!

Benjy's sleep is gradually getting better. He has never been good at getting to sleep during the day (since he was about two weeks old) but it seems that his anti-malarial treatment intensified his problems. He was waking every 90 minutes or so during the night! But since we stopped the treatment he has gone back to only waking once or twice a night, which is much better for his parents! He is also taking daytime naps regularly and without any fuss.

We took the boys swimming one day, and had to pay for Simon's ticket but not for Benjy. That turned out to be the wrong way round, as Benjy very much enjoyed splashing in the pool whereas Simon refused to go any deeper than his knees!

Simon has begun to speak more French. After eighteen months in England he had realised that even the people who spoke French to him understood English, so while he clearly understands French perfectly, he had got into the habit of generally replying in English. Here, however, he has noticed that when he speaks English he is not necessarily understood, and has very pragmatically started increasing the amount of French he speaks. He particularly enjoys greeting people, “Bonjour! Bonsoir!” and is very polite, “Merci beaucoup!”

In English he is putting more and more sentences together. We have things like, “Put this one there safely!” or “Put it up there!”

We also had a historic moment recently when for the first time he told us a story of something that had happened when he was away from us. He had been playing with our neighbours' girls, Noémi and Athalia, in their sandpit. At teatime he solemnly said to us, “Athalia, eyes, sand! … Washing eyes!” I replied, “Oh dear, poor Athalia! Did she cry?” and he answered, “No!” as if that was a silly idea!

The two boys also interact more and more as Benjy becomes more interested in the world around him, and is therefore more interesting for Simon. When Simon comes to see Benjy in his bath, it's quite clear that Benjy is trying to get Simon's attention and deliberately splashing to make Simon laugh!

Reduce, re-use, recycle ... bury, burn, give to the chickens!

Before arriving in Benin, I had already wondered what we would do with our rubbish. In 2002 I had been to visit the Kandi town council's rubbish disposal department, but it was a new development and I knew that not all towns in Benin have the same facilities. Here in Parakou we don't rely on outside assistance with our rubbish.

The three “R”s – reduce, re-use, recycle – are a good start. If we can use less and get used to using things again or in a different way, then we have less rubbish to deal with. This is something that people here seem to do far more instinctively than us! Recycling in Benin doesn't mean putting things into different coloured bags and handing it over to the authorities to process, it is all done at home, sometimes with a lot of imagination.

But what about what's left? Here on our compound, there there are four mission houses, and our rubbish is all put together. Any vegetable leftovers, which at home we'd put on the compost heap, are given to our neighbours' chickens. The rest of our rubbish is burned at the other side of the compound, and what is left after burning is buried on another part of the compound.

The one very visible rubbish problem in Benin (as I suspect is the case elsewhere in Africa) is the ubiquitous small black plastic bag, which comes wrapped around everything you buy. These are not recycled – or reused – and you see them lying at the side of the road everywhere. Coming from Europe where there has been such a push in the last few years to get rid of plastic bags, it is something you can't help noticing.

a typical day (as much as any day is typical at the moment!)

Today (Tuesday 16th June) seemed a good example of a typical day, so I thought I would describe it for you.

By 7.30 we were all awake, so got up and had breakfast at about 8. At 8.30, Esther (our home help) arrived, and got on with washing clothes and nappies. It all has to be done by hand, so her work is precious! At 8.45 I was just feeding Benjy and Marc was having his shower when Esther called that we had visitors. It was a missionary couple who had just been in Parakou for the night, dropping their teenage sons off to stay with our neighbours', and they were calling round to greet us and to pass on some things, notably some toys for Simon. Simon was extremely taken by the tractors and other farm machinery in the big box they handed over!

We had arranged to meet the SIM Benin-Togo Director, Clara, this morning, but hadn't been given an exact time. So we went to coffee-and-pancakes at the South Station (where the guesthouse and offices are) and were able to greet some of the leaders of UEEB (the Union of Evangelical Churches of Benin). We went on to spend time with Clara – helpfully Benjy slept through the entire meeting, and we sat Simon in front of a DVD which absorbed him completely.

We came home for lunch, and while we were eating it Esther came back (she cooks the midday meal for another missionary) and took Benjy on her back while she worked so that I could get some rest during siesta time.

At 2.45 Marc set off back to the South Station, where he was spending the afternoon working alongside Walter, who does a lot of maintenance work there. I spent most of the afternoon in our kitchen, cooking up chicken stock from yesterday's chicken, squeezing orange juice and preparing the evening meal. When Simon and Benjy woke up, Benjy joined me in the kitchen (since he can't get in my way yet!) and Simon played either in his bedroom in or between the living room and the kitchen.

Miriam, our Swiss neighbour, called round at one point to arrange times to go shopping together – part of my unofficial orientation! – and at 5ish her girls came round to play with my boys. They left again at 6, just after Marc got home, and we ate our evening meal. Beef curry with potatoes, carrots and green beans, with small bananas for dessert.

Then as usual it was bath- and bedtime for the boys. I transferred my cooled chicken stock into the freezer and went out onto the verandah to take down all the dry washing – almost everything except the nappies. Then I just had some time for blogging before getting ready for bed … early, as the nights are very broken at the moment! (Benjy has been waking every hour or so – things are just starting to improve a little since we stopped giving him the anti-malarial treatment.)

first illness

Not being able to stand up without feeling dizzy or sick is disabling, to say the least, and I wasn’t very happy when this hit me as I tried to cook lunch yesterday. I was sick later in the evening, and was running a slight temperature. I doubt it is anything serious, and it seems to be clearing up already.

I suspect that the heat and general tiredness (due to very broken nights) made me vulnerable to some African tummy bug. It is less worrying when it is me rather than one of the boys, anyway!

bon appétit!

A few people asked me before we left England what vegetables we’d be able to buy here in Benin, and I had to admit that I wasn’t too sure. Well, I can now answer, at least in part! There is a woman who comes selling fruit and vegetables at our door, and my neighbour Miriam told me that although she is more expensive than the market, it is worth it to save the journey. Last week I bought lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, cucumber, onions, garlic, green beans, an avocado pear, potatoes, mangoes and eggs. Ok, so the last aren’t fruit or veg, but they are mostly definitely a local product! This week the same selection of vegetables was available, with oranges, bananas and apples. The same woman apparently delivers up to the missionaries living in the North, where we’re going, though charging even higher prices because of the distance. It might be worth it though, since fewer vegetables can be grown up there where it is hotter and drier.

Simon loves mango, and when we eat it he chants, “More, please! Mango, please! More, please! Mango, please!” Benjy seems very put out to still be excluded at mealtimes. I don’t dare tell him that he has another seven weeks or so to wait!

The main meats that are eaten are chicken and beef … and when I was last here I ate guinea fowl too. The beef is a lot tougher than we’re used to, and we’ve had to invest in dental floss and toothpicks! Fish is available, though this far up the country it is generally dried fish. We can also get tinned tuna, at a price!

Many Western products are available if you are willing to pay high prices. We have bought in some tinned food for now, but I am hoping that as we get used to the local produce we won’t need to use it so much. We can buy Thai rice too, in large quantities, and with Simon’s passion for rice I suspect we will continue to buy it on a regular basis!

first big challenge

I have already mentioned this in passing, but we are beginning to realise that the first big challenge for us is water. Theoretically we are well set up in this house – we have running water, and even have a filter on one of our taps. However, this compound is at one of the highest points of the town of Parakou, and as soon as there are water cuts, we are affected. When we moved in on Friday (29th May) the water had been off for three days or so. Our neighbours on the compound (Swiss-German SIM missionaries who have been extremely helpful) told us that we didn’t need to worry too much, as we have a 300 litre reserve tank under our roof. “Well, if it were just the two of you you’d be fine,” they added, “with small children you will use a lot of water…”

Three days later and we still have no water coming through. We had a bit during the night last night, but it was probably only on for a few minutes. So we are being very careful about the water we do use. We’re having “African showers” – a bucketful to lather up, another bucketful to wash it off – and then using that water to flush the loos. But of course, in this heat we have to make sure that we do drink plenty … and we certainly can’t stop washing!!

The problem is apparently not to do with lack of water, as another missionary said she’d recently been to the lake which serves as a reservoir for the town, and it is full. It is more to do with problems with the supply – faulty pipes and so on. All very frustrating, and very little we can do about it!

To move on slightly, I just thought I’d explain the compound we are living on. It contains three missionary houses, a radio studio, Parakou Christian (Primary) School, and the boarding house which also houses another missionary family (the Swiss-German family mentioned above). It is pretty big – it has a small football pitch in the middle of it, and a deer living on it (which we only saw today for the first time). There are a lot of trees around, including fruit trees which drop heavy fruits from time to time with a muffled boom.

It can be quite noisy during the day, as we have a sawmill next door … and at night as there is a very musical (!) bar open over the weekends. Plus the normal chorus of crickets and, if it has rained recently, toads. It definitely doesn’t sound like Europe!

Written 27.05.09

I don't think I said in my last blog post that the journey went ever so smoothly.
It helped that my parents and sister Ali took the train from Bedford to Gatwick with us, to help with the 7 suitcases, 4
pieces of hand luggage, buggy, car seat and 2 children! We flew from Gatwick to Tripoli, and the staff of Afriqiyah were
brilliant. There were mainly Libyan men as air stewards, and they totally cracked for Benjy. Each time one of them went
past us he greeted Benjy and tried to make him smile! We had room at our feet for Benjy's car seat and each had a
screen to watch films, cartoons or listen to music. At Tripoli the heat hit us. It was 30°C when it had been only about 20°C in
the UK. We just had a couple of hours in Tripoli, which went quickly. The airport felt like the setting of a role play on
culture shock when we first arrived, with confusing queues, signs all in Arabic and so on. With kids though, we were rushed
through to the front of all the queues!

Ours were the only children in the departure lounge, and Simon seemed to sense that this was his opportunity to burn some
energy, and ran about happily. The second plane was less luxurious, but only about a third full, so we could take up 6
seats without worrying about it. There were no TV screens this time, but since we wanted Simon to sleep that was a good
thing!

As we stepped out of the plane at Cotonou, at 10pm, it was the humidity we really noticed compared to Tripoli. Like stepping
into a steam room with all our clothes on! We got through passport control quickly, and through Customs with only 2 of our
suitcases being searched. Roger, a Beninese man who works for SIM was waiting for us with Don, a Canadian missionary who
we'll be working with up in the North of the country after our time in Parakou.

We had originally thought we'd spend a while in Cotonou, but since Don was driving up to Parakou on Saturday and had enough
room in his pick-up for all of us and our luggage, it seemed logical to go with him then. Our crates don't reach the Port
of Cotonou until the 29th, and Roger may be able to get them for us. There is no point us going to try to buy our car, as we
would never be able to negociate a good price, so there again we will probably get someone Beninese to act on our behalf.

We also wanted to come up to Parakou as the Guesthouse in Cotonou is quite small, doesn't have much outside space, and is located
in a very noisy road. In Parakou there is a very big compound ... which to Simon's delight has a wooden adventure playground
in it! This was also our opportunity to meet Erin, Don's wife, and their little girl Hayley (who will be 2 in July) before
they went back up to the North of the country on Tuesday. Grace, the missionary translator I stayed with in 2003, had also
come down with them, and it was great to see her again!

We are still in the Guesthouse at the moment, but should probably be moving into our Parakou house on Friday (today, by the time this is posted!). It is in the
other mission compound in Parakou, where there is a school for missionary children and a radio station. There are also 4 (I
think!) other missionary houses there. There is a Swiss-German family with 3 children a bit older than ours, including a
10 year old girl who is very sensible and loves looking after Simon for us (we love it too!).

It is hard to know how I feel about being here, as we are very much living in the here and now and looking at the things that
need to be done straight away. (Though we did meet with the Director of SIM Benin-Togo, Clara, yesterday to talk a bit about
the future.) I feel I have been here in Parakou so often in my head that actually being here again just feels quite normal!
It was really good to see the Matchoudo family again too - a Beninese family I stayed with for 2 weeks in 2002.

The boys are doing very well. Both of them have been affected a bit by the heat, mainly with prickly heat rash, and they are
both waking in the night thirsty. Benjy has been feeding every 2 hours or so, so we have him in our (fortunately enormous)
bed with us so that I can easily feed him then go straight back to sleep again. Simon loves being somewhere where he can
spend a lot of his waking hours outside, and he has been trying to make friends with some of the Beninese kids who play on
the compound. He hasn't yet figured out that they are more likely to understand him if he speaks to them in French instead
of English!