A Snapshot Dialogue...or "And then the Yovo leads an impromptu parade of children around Ouidah"

7/4/12

Yesterday, I had the best French speaking experience with strangers by far of my whole trip. It all started when I decided to head out of the neighborhood to the Marche Zobe right as the primary school was finishing for the day; for your ease of readng, I will translate the 6-block long conversation that commenced when an entire herd of school children started following me.

Herd of children: Yovo yovo, bonsoir. Comment ca va? Ca va bien, merci. Donnez-moi un cadeau. *Ok, this had to be in French because it is the song that ALL of the kids sing when any white person walks by. Basically, in English it would go like this: White person, white person, good afternoon/evening/ How are you? I am good, thanks. Give me a gift.*

Julia: Can I teach you a new song? About your ABC’s in French? (starts singing, all the kids scream, laugh, run away, and then come back)_

Herd: Can you give us money?

Julia: I don’t have any money. I am a student. We’re poor. Can you give me money?

Herd: No. 

Julia: Because you’re all students right?

Herd: Yes. But do you have any money for us?

Julia: Nope. But you don’t have any for me either, so we’re even. Do you like school?

Herd: Yes. Yovo, do you have any gifts?

Julia: Sorry, no gifts. It is good that you like school. If you study hard in school, then maybe you will get lots of money. And you can call me Julia instead of “yovo.”

Herd: Ok, Yovo. (sees another white person on the street) Is that your sister?

Julia: No. My name is Julia. What are your names? (everyone introduces themselves)

Herd: Julia, do you have any candy?

Julia: Nope. Do you? 

Herd: No.

Julia:(to a little girl carrying a giant stick) What are you going to do with that stick? (laughter ensues, no answer)

Herd: Ok, we’re going now.

Julia: Alright, see you later.

For the honor and glory.

(pictures will come when I get home...they take 7 years to upload here)

Culture Shock

6/30/12
I know I tend to keep it pretty light, so having two out the past three blogs be more serious might make it seem like Africa is making me a drag, but I am here to write about my travel experiences and today I went through a serious one worth writing about. 

I can really only some it up as the severest culture shock I have dealt with in all of the three countries of my tri-country excursion.

I was at the orphanage earlier today, enjoying a lazy Saturday morning with the kids. It was raining pretty hard on and off, so we were camped out under the gazebo, staying dry while reading books. Between my reading out loud and the sound of the rain on the gazebo roof, we all managed to miss the sound of someone knocking on the front gate. As it turns out, it was the director (Papa) and he was furious at the kids for leaving him in the rain. He came yelling into the gazebo and started hitting all the kids, demanding to know why they hadn’t opened the door. All of the kids in the orphanage are small, even the 11 and 12 years olds could pass as 6 or 7. The director is a big guy, and size didn’t matter when it came to the force of his hits. 

Physical punishment is not uncommon here. Even my French professor, who teaches at the university here, was telling me the other day that when not a single one of his 60 students did an exercise he assigned for homework, he hit every single one of them. Back at home, I am not exactly against the deserved spanking, when the intention is not to harm, but to check a bad behavior or attitude. I got spankings when I was little, never hard, not like my mom when she was little, learning just how many pairs of underwear she had to put on if she knew she was in for it. When Christian told me about his students, I realized that there is a clear cultural difference between here and the U.S., but honestly, what else is new? 

But actually sitting in that gazebo this morning and witnessing such a difference...that was really hard. This entire trip has been about never trying to fit the place that I am in into a frame I have previously constructed. Punishment and relationships between kids and adults are just as varied between different cultures as food or music, and I understand that.

But at the end of the day-constructs and cultures and open-mindedness aside- what I saw at the orphanage today was still just a group of little kids getting smacked around by a big man.

When I left, the director apologized to me. He said that’s how things are here, but he was sorry that I had to see him so angry. What was I supposed to say? I told him it was different than where I am from, and then we shook and hands and said “See you Monday.”

I should have told him that he missed somebody earlier.

I hadn’t heard the knocking at the door either.

For the honor and glory.