Wish GRANTED!

Hanging around the bureau here in Cotonou all week had been just okay until today. I've been caught up in the MedUnit trap since Monday. I've been spending the week counting my francs making sure that I had enough money to go home. But today I was cleared to leave tomorrow and I received some great news...

My grant proposal (the one I wrote on Moringa to fight malnutrition), was approved! Well it will be as soon as my work partner signs the agreement form. Whats more is they are going to fast track the money direct into my bank account so that I will have access much faster. This is great news! The people in my community will be so happy.

There is such a great need for a clean and reliable source of protein and vitamins where I live. If things go as planned that need will be filled within the year, in a financially and environmentally sustainable way! I have a lot to start doing when I get home, with school starting, the other projects I have planned and now this, it should be a pretty big year.

Morocco: Imlil and the Hike to Basecamp

We meandered around Marrakesh a little in the morning before getting out of the city. We took a mini buss to a small village named Asni that serves as a transit hub for several mountain settlements in the High Atlas mountains. In Asni we ran into a Czech tour guide that brings groups over land twice a year from the Czech Republic. He was nice enough to offer us a ride to the village we were destined for, so we didn't hesitate. The climb along the mountainsides was amazing. In Imlil Oran, our new friend, hooked us up with a couple of his local colleagues and they got us a great room.

Cafe Soleil was the perfect countryside hotel. The room had a really nice bucolic feel. The floor was covered in layers of Berber carpets in deep reds, black, and cream. The beds in the room were extremely comfortable and we had our own shower. The view from the room was stunning. Set right off of a seasonal riverbed, and facing two mountains the hotel couldn't have been more picturesque. Down below our window a well maintained garden was framed by trees. For dinner the staff cooked us a great chicken tajine. A tajine is a traditional Moroccan dish cooked in a ceramic dish with a cone-shaped lid over coals. They are filled with a mixture of meat and veggies and are smothered with clarified butter. We couldn't believe how good the meal was, it was the perfect thing to get us ready for the next day's hike.

The next morning we took our breakfast in the courtyard looking over the dry rocky riverbed. Moroccan marmalade, bread, butter, orange juice and Nescafe, a nice start to the days walk. The fresh flavors of the marmalade and orange juice really doing justice to Morocco's reputation as a great producer of citrus.

We set off for the days walk winding through a hillside park on our way out of Imlil. Climbing a series of switchbacks led our party to Armoud, a neighboring village on the edge of a rocky graphite-colored valley floor. We made our way across the rocks following the faint trail to a neighboring hillside. On the hill we took our first break. As we ate under an gnarled, hollowed out old apple tree some Moroccan children were skipping and playing down the path. We offered them some figs and peanuts, which they gladly took as they giggled off further down the trail.

Pressing on, I watched as the landscape became more and more radical. We crossed a beautifully constructed aqueduct carved into the hillside. The structure would later symbolize a gate between a landscape influenced by the ingenuity of man and one left to the will of nature. As our progress continued the land fell away to the right to create a deep gash in the Earth's surface. At a waterfall we crossed to an adjacent hillside. There in the crook of the two peaks was a roughly constructed group of shacks occupied by vendors hoping to eek out a living on passing hikers as a “last chance” style of commerce. Thanking them, we climbed into the mountainside to eat our lunch of sausage, pita, Vache Qui Rit (cheese spread), and dates.
After lunch we continued on our way making good time. We had a long day ahead and I wanted to make it to the base camp before dark. Eventually we came upon another vendor selling cold beverages in a very inventive way. He had blocked a natural spring and attached a hose. He led the hose to a water bottle and used it as a sprinkler, wetting down an overhang. The rock would drip over the drinks making them cool and enticing. I was blown away with his ingenuity and wanted to stop and ask some questions; unfortunately we didn't have the time.

Continuing the vegetation was dwindling to mosses, tumbleweeds, and only the toughest shrub-trees. We were traveling in the hot season in Morocco, so much of what we saw was on the extreme end of the seasonal swing. Roots seemed to be minimal as the trees stretched, reached, and twisted as far as they could to catch the sunlight that poured in as the sun skipped between the surrounding mountaintops. We also encountered a crossed several local Moroccans trafficking goods and gear to and from Imlil and the surroundings. They used mules to carry the large loads. Saddled with bright blankets and harnesses the mules slowly persisted under the weight but surefooted, they continued.


Along the way we met several interesting people. A couple of Americans coming back from a small day hike recounted their travels of the last 8 years that had kept them out of the US. They seemed to have come into some money and decided to tour the world on a sailboat. “Our money is running out.” they told us; unashamedly and not disappointed, simply stated as a fact. They were heading back to the US after a couple more stops and going to look for work. We wished them luck and continued on our way. Now several hours and many kilometers into the day's hike, we were feeling rather exhausted. Luckily we soon ran into a pair of vacationing Irish. The couple seemed to be gushing after coming down from the summit that morning. The warm exchange was reassuring and sure enough just around the bend we saw the refuge where we were going to stay the night.


The “hut” or “refuge” was far from what the words conjured up in my imagination. Climbing up to the first we were impressed with the massive scale of the building. Here, more than 30k or rough mountain trails and bad gravel road, people had built some impressive stone structures. The refuge had hot showers, electricity (generator), plumbing, and was detailed in well-crafted wooden trim. We entered got our beds in a bunk-style room, and went down to shower and eat.
Dinner was more of the same sausage, fruit, nuts,etc. We added on a bowl of warm Harissa soup. Harissa is the traditional soup that Moroccans eat to break the fast. It is a thick tomato-vegetable base. Its was a great way to get back some nutrients after a long day of walking. At dinner we met a couple more Czechs, Ales and David. They were planning on climbing, but David had fallen ill. Ales asked if he might join us. We talked a while and got to know each other. Ales had finished a job as a programmer and decided to take a trip to Morocco before settling into another job. David had been living in Ireland for four years or so and was also thinking of changing careers, he was very interested in long-term volunteering so we talked a bit about the challenges and rewards of such work. David and Ales had met over the internet and only really met face-to-face there in Morocco. They made a very interesting pair, Ales being more solemn and serious, where David seemed to laugh at everything. After chatting a while and making our plans to meet in the morning, we repacked our bags for the climb and went off to bed.

Down on the Farm

I've been keeping busy 'round the village these days. I'm still waiting for school to start but I'm relatively certain classes will start next Monday. I've planted some sunflowers in front of my house, and I've got some garlic and onion growing pretty well there too. I've also been making small improvements for the coming year and hoping to make my house as nice as possible.

A couple of weeks ago I was invited out to the farm f a friend. Getting up at 7AM I made myself a pot of real coffee, listened to the news, and did a sodoku. According to the BBC the Western world is suffering a major tempest, even football (soccer) teams are watching the horizon so you know it's bad. After cafinating my self and thawing my brain, I gt on my bike and made the 9k jaunt out to a farming settlement northwest of Ouedeme.

Arriving there surprised the locals, most of whom never even make it to the paved road. Children ran around yelling "Yovo, yovo!" as children do. When I made my to my friends' family compound I was warmly greeted and quickly exhausted my minute Fon vocabulary. I came with the desire to do a little work in the fields and learn a little about Beninese farming techniques. My friend, Alban, all of the sudden seemed a little skittish about me doing any sort of manual labor. After I pushed, he said we would, but he wanted to visit his sister first. So we walked through the village, saying hello to everyone.

We sat and spoke with his sister a while, scared some children, made some others laughed. And then we had to eat. Igname pile at 9AM is not the lightest breakfast faire. Luckily, ignames are one of my favorite Beninese foods. So I dug in. After that we walked back to his parent's compound and sat down for... some more igname. This time boiled (think boiled potato) with a chili-oil dipping sauce. It was delicious, but I was full and was scolded for not eating enough.

Large-bellied and full I was sitting under a mango tree surrounded by small children. So naturally I started to entertain them. I pulled out my camera and we had some fun to pass the time. The kids here are such hams, and when they see that they can see themselves on screen they get blown away. Even the most timid children start to perform for the camera. They couldn't get enough.

Eventually, it was time to take a walk and we went to tour the fields. Alban said it was too hot to work that day, and to his credit none of the other men in the settlement seemed to be out, so I gave up on any hope of doing some real work. The family's fields were packed with lush green bushes of soybeans. Its about midway through the season now, the harvest will come in Dec. I'm planning on gorging myself on edemame.

The farming system is pretty interesting. The largest part is, of course, for the father. Everyone has a section for himself or herself. In the mornings the family members all work the father's land and in the afternoons, if all the work is finished, they start in on their own plots. It seemed like everyone had been doing a pretty good job at managing both responsibilities.

Back at the house it was time to start dinner. In my honor they decided to kill a cock. So the father called all the children and told them to go catch it. The kids scattered to hunt down the ill-fated bird, and I chased, camera in hand. There seemed to be much argument about where the chicken had gotten off to. He seemed to have heard them talk about his demise and decided to make a run for it. He was found on the outside of the settlement, and chased back in. He dashed into a dense grove of banana trees and the children were forced to go around. Slashing at the foliage with sticks they kids couldn't seem to find him. As they returned some one yelled they saw it on the other edge of the clearing, and the mini-hunter swarmed in that direction.

They chased it through a fence, knocking down a makeshift structure, and still couldn't seem to catch it. Round and round they went. Eventually I heard a big cheer. I came around the corner and it turns out there was a guy sitting in his house watching the kids and chicken from his couch. So he picked up his slingshot and killed it from where he was sitting.

Papa cut the chicken's neck neck with a pretty dull blade and Mama got started on cooking dinner. The two young boys pounded the igname when they were boiled enough and then it was time to eat. We moved into a dark mud-brick hut for the meal. The sauce consisted of sesame, palm oil sauce served frequently with igname pile.

Soon after dinner I had to get back on my bike if I was going to make it before the sun went down. So we said our good byes and I thanked them for a great afternoon. I took a family photo for them because their son is moving away to go to a higher-level school. Making my way home I felt a lot of the stress I had about my return to Benin. These types of days are why I love life here.