I looked for the etymology to back up my thoughts, but I must not be looking in the right places. I’ve been thinking about a new french word I’ve learned. Je suis reconnaissante. I am grateful. The moment I heard this word, I was struck because it reminds me of connaitre, the word for recognition. The idea that gratitude can be achieved when we look back over and recognize something again, re connaitre, has been very grounding for me as I take in my new familiar surroundings. I look, but do I recognize? As a short amount of time passes, maybe I recognize some things, but do I see them in the proper light? It was only after I learned that word that I began to look once more, recognize once more, and experience gratitude for the tremendous experience before me.
There’s much that’s unfamiliar to me, and it’s easy to condemn interactions as indictments in my mind. If I’m not totally sure I understand, I have the bad habit of assuming the speaker has found me lacking in some way. In the past, I have blamed others for not bolstering me through this insecurity, but now, I am going to challenge myself to look, recognize, and then recognize once more.
Je suis reconaissante, I am grateful for my short time here so far. It almost feels temporary, the short time that it’s been, but day by day I am coming more to grips with Benin and am looking forward to spending more time here. I can’t wait to grow into the person who fits here.
Honestly, right now, I am experiencing a fascinating hybrid culture at the Peace Corps training center. My fellow trainees are Americans like me, but we’re all working very hard to adjust. We speak to each other in French that reflects various levels of mastery, relaying what we can but, for now, often defaulting to English when conversation gets deep or we need a break.
Benin is amazing. Already I am forming a basis of connection. In Benin, everyone greets each other, even when you don’t know one another. It’s a small action, but through it I can relay “I see you” and others can relay back “I see you, too.” It’s a low barrier of recognition, and I love it because I don’t think I’ve experienced anything like it. Even as a newcomer and a foreigner, I am seen.
Training has been difficult, even though it’s only orientation week. Days are packed from 7 AM to 7 PM. Pretty much nothing in the world is appealing when it rolls around to the third hour of sessions, head clouded from unrelenting heat and humidity. Despite the long hours, when I can recognize where I am again, reach for that reconnaissance, I regain my motivation. It’s incredible that the Peace Corps wants to send me to the field as prepared as I can possibly be.
It’s hot and humid here. I never don’t feel sweaty unless I just finished taking a bucket bath. Access to running water is inconsistent, but I’m surprised that I’ve adapted pretty quickly. If anything, I am more mindful of the way I use water because if I spend it frivolously, I have to take my bucket to our building bucket and lug it back to my room, water sloshing over the sides and onto my feet.
It’s hard, but I’m far from alone. My cohort is some of the best people I could have asked to start this journey with. They are incredibly mindful of their own needs and the needs of others. We take care of one another. We motivate each other, commiserate with one another, look for the bright side, and often find it together. Our long days are full of laughter. We have named ourselves, cohort 35, les margouillat after the lizards that run all around the training center.
I am grateful for our Language Culture Facilitators, who are locally employed members of staff. They are incredible teachers, encouraging us to speak, diligently noting our vocabulary and structure, offering thorough feedback on our answers and presentations. Being who I am, I have trouble accepting that I make mistakes. I feel embarrassed and silly when I slip up, especially when I know that homme is masculine but I still said une homme when I was speaking. Really, it’s such a privilege that the LCFs care enough to correct us, respect us enough to want to help us get it right. They know it takes time, they’re willing to invest in us because they know that we can do it.
Making mistakes is learning. Learning is making mistakes. I am empathetic and conscientious, so when these sensibilities fail me, I’m devastated. More and more, I am trying to remember to place faith in the people around me. They want me to succeed. I know this. I need to carry it with me as I move forward.
I am in Mono, a department in the south of Benin. The training center is nestled into our city, but with the walls around it, it feels almost remote. That illusion is quickly shattered when our neighbors enjoy their weekend evenings by playing loud and festive music, music that I tap my foot to as I get ready to go to dinner. Speaking of dinner: some of my favorite dinners thus far have been pâté, which is a Beninois dish that consists of a cylinder of corn starch that one eats with their fingertips and dips in a variety of sauces. Below, I will personally rank the dishes I have tried thus far:
3- Pâté Blanc: It wasn’t bad, but compared to its cousins it just wasn’t giving as much. The accompanying fish sauce was flavorful, but I was served a bit too much, all of which I tried to eat out of politeness, so I overstuffed myself a bit. Perhaps this dish is tainted by my experience.
2- Pâté Noir: A very strong showing! I wish I could tell you exactly what’s in it, but Google is failing me. I know it is an herb they have here in Benin. The accompanying fish and cheese was amazing! Many dishes here are a bit spicy for me, but either this dish was more mild, or I am simply adapting to the new palette.
1- Pâté Rouge! My love! Chicken and tomato sauce, oh my. Add in onions, and now my heart is singing. It was a messy sauce, but the meal was worth the mess. By this point, I was getting more comfortable eating with my hands (which doesn’t happen with all meals, but does with pate), so I really clicked with this meal. The spice level left a pleasant buzz on my tongue. It was also Saturday night, so that never hurts.
Don’t just take my word for it! Here’s Beninese food blogger Yemessi Fade sharing different types of Pâtés in her article “Les differents types de pate.” For English speakers, Google has an option to translate the page into English. Give it a read! I didn’t know about this food before, but it’s been one of my favorites thus far. The meal is highly adaptable! I’m looking forward to trying my hand at it in the future. If you want to try it yourself, here’s the Peace Corps’s (very bland) version of the recipe. It’s pâté blanc.
What comes next? Week 1. This last week has been Orientation Week, so language training and Teaching English as a Foreign Language professional development sessions begin in earnest next week. On Saturday, I’ll meet my host family! I’ll move out of the training center and be with my new family. I’m nervous, but overwhelmingly excited to get to live with a family. I will definitely miss the proximity to my cohort, but we’ll always have WhatsApp.
It isn’t always sunny here (literally. The torrential downpour soaked through my entire outfit the first day at the training center. I had to bust out the adult poncho), but I am learning so, so much. I am overwhelmed with gratitude and greater understanding, and I barely know anything yet. A tout a l’heure!
The content of this website is mine alone and does not reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Benin Government.
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