The Mamans and the Papas

This evening I had a chat with my maman in which I discovered the source of at least some of the millions of urchin/slumdog children that run around my house. Apparently, my papa here in Benin has 3 wives and they all live on different floors of this house! It is actually quite common in Benin for men to have up to four wives but I just thought that most of the women around this house were sisters, daughters, and aunts. I could care less either way but it would have been nice to know that I was living on the set of “Big Love: Africa” before now. But you should all be aware (because my maman made sure that I was very clear about this) that my maman is the first wife and the most powerful. She told me about how she is in charge of all the cooking and cleaning and the running of the house. That is a source of pride with many women in Benin and that means that the 2nd and 3rd wives don’t really get to feed their husband like my maman does so they have a different status. The husbands here with more wives typically spend two days in a row with each wife and then move to the next. Many of them have families in different houses in different parts of the city and move around to each house every few days or every week. Apparently in my house, the papa can conveniently just walk up or down a flight of stairs to see his wives.*
*I want to be clear that I deeply respect the women of my house and the family that I am staying with as well as the Beninoise people as a whole even if for some reason my comedic writing makes it seem like I am mocking. That is not my intention. I’m trying to relate their culture to you so that you can understand it a little but more and maybe also respect it. 
My maman is middle aged and wears beautiful tissue (the patterned fabric that everyone wears here). She is pretty funny and really nice. She has a few gold teeth which sort of makes her look pirate-ish but that is common here (the gold crowns, not pirates). She is going to help me hand wash my laundry this weekend which should be an adventure. The thing that I am most stressed about is having to hang up my underwear, bras, and the rest of my clothing outside for every person in this house to look at. There are at least 10 women/teenage girls who do the work of women who live/work around here and I’m sure that they would love to chat about my underclothes with or without me. Although I guess that wouldn’t be as bad as the children who run around here. I can barely get them to stop pawing at my hair, skin, and general self. I cannot imagine the amount of times they would rub their grimy hands all over my stuff if they had the chance and I wasn’t there yelling at them to stop.
Back to my maman, the first day we met she told me that since I was American then that must mean I was Christian and that she was a Muslim but she told me not to worry because, “We have the same heart, you and I” and gestured from her chest to mine. Now that I have seen her bare chest at least a dozen times, I’m beginning to wonder if I misunderstood what she said. Maybe she was pointing to her chest and saying something like, “You poor thing, I hope you are comfortable living in a house full of Muslim women who feel it necessary to cover their head at inane moments throughout the day but do not find it at all odd to sit around topless in front of strangers.” It is common (at least in my house) for the older women to sit topless in my maman’s room at night and watch Spanish soap operas that have been dubbed into French. Some other shows that might interest you: Campus (pronounced Cam-poose)-An overacted drama about a group of West African students living on some college campus somewhere in West Africa and doing scandalous things. And this other show that I have dubbed “The Fallen”-a series of old photographs of people who have just died followed by their obituary all presented in silence on the tv screen with a fancy blue background. The women actually watch this procession of the dead for at least a half hour every night. So odd. One time I watched the French Spanish soap operas with my sister in the corner while maman did her prayers right in front of us so we had to crane our necks to see if the dying grandpa was going to remember his daughter or keep calling her “Maria” and believing that she was a former lover while she sat there crying, “Papa, c’est moi, tu fille!” (Papa, its me, your daughter!). Riveting.
Yesterday I exchanged $100 USD (which is a good portion of the money that I have to my name) with a man sitting on a bench on the side of the road. Shady? No, it was ridiculously sunny and hot. I have been trying to exchange money since I have gotten here and it has proven quite difficult. The banks all close around the time that I can get to them after school and sometime the people at the bank just don’t want to exchange your money. I don’t really need to exchange money for anything because I am getting paid enough money by the Peace Corps to eat and stuff but I really want to buy a phone so I can talk to people back home. Apparently all the volunteers here have one and many of the people in my staging group already have them. I decided the other day after school that I was going to exchange my money and that my family was going to help me whether they liked it or not. I harassed my siblings until they convinced one of my brothers to go with me. We walked several miles and got the banks only to find out that they were all closed! I should probably tell you that the only other significant experience I have had so far with this brother was when I got a little but snippy with him one day after school when he kept mumbling at me and would not enunciate and then attempted to grab my arm every 5 five minutes which the pretense of crossing the street but I really think he was just trying to touch me. It’s mostly inappropriate for a man here to touch you if you are not family. And while I am a host sister, I think maman and Allah would think there is still a big enough difference between me and my brother to warrant him keeping his hands off of me. Plus, I am pawed pretty regularly by the ragamuffins around my house and I was not having a good day and he was a convenient target for my anger.
Back to the money story, I’m almost certain that if my brother (his name is Halelo) didn’t hate me before we walked several miles in the heat that he was going to hate me now. Then a Nigerian saved the day! Well, I am assuming he was Nigerian because every time I tell someone that I changed money with a shady looking person on the street they say something along the lines of, “Oh you found a Nigerian?”. We were about to give up our search when my brother said something that translated to, “I know a guy…”. At this point I was more than willing to give my money to “a guy” because it was just worthless paper in my wallet at the moment and I just wanted to stop walking and to have him quit asking me what I was going to do about “the money problem” We walked up to the guy and he was sitting on a wooden bench and leaning against a building. He had a table in front of him that held an enormous stack of West African money and a calculator. Legit. Too legit to quit! I actually got a really good exchange rate from him and lucked out. Plus, on the walk home, we ran into my brothers funny old English teacher and that was an awesome conversation starter. The teacher sort of reminded me of what Jafar looks like in Aladdin at the beginning when he is pretending to be a toothless old man and he convinces Aladdin to go to the Cave of Wonders or whatever it is called. Except this old man was wearing an impressive hat and was sporting an even more impressive beard. After that, my brother and I bonded and little and I am really glad I forced him to take me to get money.

Some things I am excited about for the near future:
1) I just bought some awesome tissue to make into dresses and I can’t wait to take them to the seamstress person.
2) I should be receiving tons of mail and packages soon (wink)
3) I find out which village I will be teaching in NEXT FRIDAY (August 6)
4) I get to visit my village and meet my school director the week after that!
5) I should be buying a phone soon and will actually be able to talk to people I love for more than 5-10 minute sessions.