Tuesday, October 14, 2008

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.

1 comment:

Paul Banbury said...

nice account, nice photos, very national geographic. i am economizing on the use of capital in all areas, including writing. i just hope we don't experience a punctuation crisis, but i think we will and it will be the end of all time and everything. i did see the bbc news when in euro, and it was the most screechy, panicky, tabloid reporting. we quit watching in disgust.