"DVD Guy"

Disclaimer:
I know if I keep this type of writing up it will spoil people's image of what Peace Corps service is really like, but its been that kind of month.

In Cotonou there is a middle aged, “rough around the edges” guy that might be a little scary in a dark alley if it weren't for his huge grin and accommodating nature. He is know by volunteers as “DVD Guy.” He is in fact our mainline into the junk that is popular culture and entertainment during our two years in Benin. I know, you don't have to tell me, I thought people left the US to get away from all of that dirty consumerism and disgusting mind-numbing Hollywood drivel. When you catch some intestinal parasites, get a staph infection, or develop some mysterious rash that looks like a deity; we'll see how you cope.

For us, DVD Guy keeps us sane. He is there and happy to see us. He can spot us coming half a kilometer away and even if he's just closing up shop he'll open those boxes back up and even get you a stool to sit on while you rifle through them. He will never complain or become impatient, no matter how long you sit and look.

He's got it all. You want nature shows? How about a disk of 80 assorted episodes of various documentaries. What about the third season of Desperate Housewives? No problem. Oh and what if you meet some sad individual who has never seen an Indian Jones, Star Wars, or Lord of the Rings movie? Well you can have them all on one disk, if you don't mind taking some Harry Potter. The best part? You can make requests, he will activate his vast piracy network to find you that 2nd season of some show that you missed. And its all fresh. Yesterday I saw the new Indian Jones movie, Speed Racer, and some other things I had never heard of because I'm so villagois.

It gets even better when you decide to buy. There is no 30 minutes of discutéing. The price is set. Its 2,000fCFA ($4.18USD) per disk no matter what. The disks themselves are sent over from Nigeria, or sometimes China and they come in cellophane-wrapped cardboard sleeves that mimic the DVD covers themselves. Some disks are better quality than others but when faced with no alternative they're heaven.

Pork Fest Day 3: Thursday

On the third day we all rolled out of bed admiring one another's bulging pot bellies. Brunch was on the menu. That meant breakfast sausage, igname latkes, home made apple sauce, pit roast part 2: the return of the feast, more biscuits, and scrambled eggs. Not surprisingly we all seemed to be moving at a quarter speed in the early hours. We didn't get around to eating until nearly 1:30.

After that many of us lumbered off to grab a cab to Cotonou so they could be there on the 4th to meet the new volunteers that were on their way. So those sad few of us who were left cleaned the mess and got the house into some semblance of order. Then it was time to get ready for dinner (leftovers) and relax.

Pork Fest was clearly a huge success. It took a lot of cooperation, and good humor to make things move so smoothly and we couldn't have asked for a better group. Gourmandizing isn't in the Peace Corps handbook but it certainly seems to fit. I guess its a binge and purge life here in Benin, and as long as ribs are involved, I'm in.

Pork Fest Day 2: Wednesday

In the morning I was on scrambled eggs. We ate 36 eggs in all. In addition we fried up breakfast sausage we had ground up and seasoned the night before. Emily, another PCV baked some biscuits and made a gravy using some of the pork fat from the night before.

Breakfast took so long there wasn't much time to waist. As people were cleaning another team started cleaning intestines to make brats for lunch. Then there was the stuffing under the mosquito net to keep the flies off. We were well on our way to another day of over whelming pork consumption. Along with the bratwurst we had German potato salad (made without mayo sub pork fat) and a green salad and sauerkraut.

Eventually I got my hands on the finished brats. Threw them on to boil, then on the grill. They came out a little dry (thanks again no doubt to them being made from Beninese pork). But were delicious all the same. We didn't get lunch until mid afternoon, but that worked out well because the pig on the roast was putting up a bit of post-mortem struggle.


To tide us over we started to work on the pork rinds or “cracklins.” We had a huge basin of pork skin we had trimmed of the day before. A bit of salt and taco seasoning is all it took. It took a little experimenting, but we eventually got them right. Next time we will bake them before we boil them though.

As soon as the breakfast cleanup was finished we sent a delegation to retrieve our second pig. A pit was dug. Rebar, tin roofing, and chicken wire were bought and bartered for (with pig meat). And we were on our way to protein overload. By noon the second day we were a well oiled machine of cooking, eating, drinking, and doing our best to keep it clean.

When the 2nd pig arrived we encountered a whole new slew of questions. How does one pit roast a pig? How does one keep all the tasy bits from dribbling off? Well the answers were simple but not for the squeamish. We took two pieces of rebar, jammed them through the neck all of the way to the rear of the pig. Sliced the skin so it would crisp up really nicely. We then wrapped it like a carnitas burrito in chicken wire and finally, cut small holes through the ribcage and wove the third piece of rebar through.

There was a minor fire issue but that was quickly and easily regulated. After that we had a crack team of professionals watching (and drinking) near the pit at all times. Because the pig was to stay in the pit for 6 hours we started a second pit just for fresh coals. It went off with out a hitch. That evening we ate Pit roasted pig, more green salad, baked beans,and 3 types of pie: key lime, silk chocolate, and apple(all made with rendered pork lard).


After dinner the food comas set in and we crowded around the television for movies, around the computer screens, or under the mango tree for a bit of trivial pursuit. We all found our way to bed early after two long days of gluttony and the hard work that accompanies it.

Blog Note:
I have added an RSS option toward the bottom in the left hand column.

Pork Fest Day 1: Tuesday

People trickled into the Parakou workstation starting Monday night and continued this morning. By the time the first pig arrived we numbered 16. The first pig cost us 50,000f CFA (about 120 USD). She was a massive beauty. She arrived carried over the shoulders of another PCV who rode up to the house on the back of a zem.

We setup a table where three other volunteers and myself went to work butchering our first pig. It took more than 2 hours of hacking away at our future feast using a machete and low-quality Beninese cutlery to transform the animal into something manageable. About half way through the beer was from the distributor. We ordered 12 cases for the three days and managed to get a discount. Cooking this much pig is thirsty work. Pork bits started flying everywhere and pretty soon we had ourselves a whole lot of meat.

As soon as I could I got the ribs into a pot of boiling water. I know boiling ribs is sacrilege, but we aren't dealing with a plump American corn fed pig so sacrifices must be made. I made a rub from brown sugar, fennel seed, paprika, chili powder, garlic powder, and a couple other things I found around the kitchen. After that they went into the oven. A bit into the cooking time I checked on them and and saw that the oven was far too hot. I was misinformed about the calibration of the oven and there is no thermometer in the house. In the end they turned out pretty good, everyone seemed to love them. The ribs were supplemented with grilled pork tenderloin and cornbread and coleslaw for sides. Dinner was outstanding. I ate until I didn't think I could possibly eat anymore, then I had seconds. Eating food like this after being in Benin for nearly a year was one of the most physically gratifying things that I've ever experienced. Food is an important part of life, that is nothing new, but doing something like this has given me new appreciation of how much impact a single meal can have on one's mentality.

We had a visitor up from Cotonou. He is a student studying microfinance at Wake Forest. He heard about our pork project and couldn't pass it up. He had never visited the north before so we took him out to try chuke for the first time. Chuke is a local brew made from millet and yeast served in dried gourds. If well made the taste comes off a bit like cider, if not it has a vinegar tinge to it. The yeast is actually left in the mix so it continues to ferment as it sits in the gourd (and yuour stomach). Mostly it is bought and sold in markets, but it can also be found in shacks along the roadside. Its a PCV beverage of choice because the markets are full of interesting people and the price is right (50f CFA or $0.12 USD).

Entering into your first chuke stand is an interesting experience. Its dark, dank, and humid. The tin roofs keep the heat trapped in. Lining the walls are low set benches often crowded with Beninese men taking a break or getting out of the house. The stands smell of old chuke, sweat, and dust. The service is generally younger women who seek a meager living selling the swill at a profit margin that would make an American entrepreneur weep.

Fat and happy we spent the rest of the evening listening to music, sharing stories, and enjoying one another's company. Some people played beerpong and others started prepping for breakfast. Its nice to have some time to relax and cut loose after all the work of the past few weeks. Many of the PCVs that came the year before I did are getting ready to finish up their service and its good to see them one last time.