Just got back from Savalou. Spent a couple of days eating really good food and saying good-bye to Brook’s post. I’ll try to get the tons of pictures Bertrand took posted both here and on facebook in the next couple of days.

Indeed. I don’t really have much to say here, except that it’s been a wild ride, and I’d do it again in a second. If any of you ever have the chance, DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT.

I’ve learned more in two years than I thought possible; certainly I learned more than I managed to teach. The chance to see and do and meet and just . . . everything. You’ll never get an opportunity like this living comfortable yuppie lives in America. There’s nothing wrong with living a comfortable yuppie life, of course, but leaving it all isn’t nearly as hard as you think it is (and, believe it or not, the Peace Corps’ll let you use some of your readjustment allowance to settle credit card and student debt while you’re serving).

I’ve pushed my comfort zones further than they’ve ever been pushed before. I’ve had to work harder to just exist than I had work at my toughest, most interesting jobs back home. I wasn’t risk adverse before, and now . . . risk? What’s that?

At some point, I might write a retrospective, but I don’t feel like anything’s really ending right now. I’m staying in Benin. I’m starting a non-profit with the insane goal of changing the way Benin sees and uses information and communication technologies.

It’s incredibly exciting, and it feels far less like an ending than a beginning.

I apologize for the lack of personal emails, but internet is expensive and if I’m at the cybercafé, usually I’m working. Anyway, it wasn’t terribly romantic, but it got the job done.

No, being engaged here isn’t the same as being engaged in the States. Bertrand had no idea how important it was that he actually ask. We’re living together, which, in the eyes of everyone in Benin, means that we’re married anyway. So the ceremony is just a formality, whereas for me, these steps are HUGE and IMPORTANT and DISTINCT.

So that confusion’s cleared up now too. Haha.

In line at 6am to buy tickets. Huge lines of people shoving and pushing and yelling as the ticket booths opened an hour late. What?!?! Only the expensive tickets can be bought in this line? Canny smile. What if we buy a lot of the cheap ones? Is it possible? Fantastic. WHO WANTS TICKETS! RAISE YOUR MONEY! Great. We want 20 2000 FCFA tickets. Twenty?!?! Yeah. That’s enough, right? Okay, we’ll wait while you go get them. Finally. Who’d we buy tickets for? Get out of our way! We aleady bought ours. We want out of the mob!

Insanity.

The whole town was filled with spirit for the Benin vs. Mali soccer game. A qualifier for the Cup in Ghana in January. Yikes. Faces painted. Everyone wearing yellow, Beninese flags, outrageous hats, and of course, drinking.

The game was due to start at 16h00. We packed sandwiches at my house, and the Benino-American posse left my house at 12h30. The parking lot was packed and we were glad we’d left the motos safely ensconced in my building’s courtyard. When we got there, it was a mad rush to get in the gate to the stadium complex. Tickets waving above our heads, we ran through with everyone else. Of course they didn’t stop to check ours.

We finally arrived at the stadium proper, they tore the corners off our tickets and directed us to the 2000 franc section. What? Already full? We pushed and shoved and stepped on people until we found enough seats to accomodate our party. Three hours to go. Some drummers were behind us and the crowd was singing and dancing. Go Benin! 3-0! 3-0! 3-0! (The anticipated score.)

At 14h00, the stadium was packed. Only the expensive seats were left. At 14h30, even the expensive seats were full. What? The stadium oversold the tickets? They do that for every game! The oversold are angry, and they break open one of the stadium doors, rushing in. People are pourning over the inside walls. They’ll stand and watch the game from underneath the seats at field level.

The field was circled several times by traditional religious leaders, “charging” the field for Benin. Any advantage is welcome because the Malians are supposed to be a tough team. They even let a pigeon loose on the field.

Finally, it’s game time. The game isn’t nearly as exciting as the build-up, but there are some decent plays. The first half runs to 52 minutes. Halftime is actually half an hour, and the second half was also 50-some minutes. The game ended in a draw. One point in the series for each team.

Neither team had scored, which means that Mali didn’t score against Benin, and isn’t that something to celebreate? The crowd files out, disappointed, but not angry. We met up with friends, and wearily walked home to collapse into bed.

Was a drunken orgy that mostly, I slept through. I seem to mark all important trips, conferences, parties, etc. here in Benin with extreme bouts of food poisoning.

Other than that, the conference was surprisingly full of good information, good food, and good company.

With all of my teeth! Crazy! More details in a hot minute.

Actually, I’m in Senegal. Dakar, to be precise. Why this sudden change of capital cities? Turns out, I need to get some wisdom teeth pulled. Turns out, one of ‘em’s not growing in straight and causing the rest of my teeth go go all crooked ‘n’ shit.

So that’s that.

Dakar’s absolutely insane. I’m surrounded by multi-story buildings. There are no zemidjians, only real taxis that are ACTUAL CARS and not MOTOS. Since today’s Labor Day, and thus, a holiday, I plan to spend the day exploring the city. Yay! Fun and exciting.