The Chickens Hurt My Feelings

Whenever I head over to Suzy’s house there is always something that I can pretty guarantee will be there to greet me, the chickens. Not exactly greet me, more like run away from me, squawking and fluttering, and the babies chirping. Makes one imagine there’s a disaster about to strike that only the chickens know about. And it is this way that they hurt my feelings. Of course I am here to get to people not chickens, but those guys are kinda cool looking and interesting, if they realize I was not out to hurt them, maybe they’d warm up to me a little. Probably there Uncle Henry McCoopster told them about how all chickens eventually die a horrible death and how he barely escaped with feathers still intact. Despite the obvious ridiculousness of how the chickens keep hurting my feelings, I was reminded of Heaven. Someday not even animals will be afraid. Love will be the sentiment of all creatures, humans and animals alike! That’s something to look forward too.
But there is a whole lot more around than chickens for sure. The heat has been rising during the day, but keeping pretty cool at night. I am actually a chilled during morning devotions! Like an ominous warning of impending warning I am told that soon dry season will begin and along with it heat, dust and more dust. Suzy says that good thing for me I have a big hole in the road in front of the house, which means motorcycles won’t go flying by making huge clouds and as well I do not have any windows (except the portholes in the shower that face outside. But I will have to wait and see, although I know it must be pretty hefty on dust because the job description for coming here said you couldn’t be allergic to dust! About the heat, I am glad that I do not have to complain about it, many of the Africans do it themselves. When it’s gets hot, they say “C’est trop chaut.” (It’s too hot!) And then follow that by a comment on how it will soon get even hotter. Really the heat has not been to bad for me, nothing worse than an Albertan or Saskatchewanian (is that right Saskatchewanian) summer.
I am learning lessons everyday, some harder than others. Not that I am making a lot of mistakes, well big mistakes anyway, I am just learning as I go along, like an bird-watching trip, there’s always something new to see. Okay bad metaphor, but I tried. I can see in small ways how the dots connect from day to day. I am talking about how God makes sure things are timed just right, even when I think things are going haywire. Like last Sabbath when I went to visit a friend in the hospital. I waited an hour at his house, because his friend said he had gone to get medication at a charity house and wouldn’t be at the hospital then. After the hour I went with a lady who knew his room to the hospital. When we arrived, he wasn’t there either. So after the rain stopped which started just after we arrived I headed back home. Along the way a small boy asked if he could tag along since he had to go to Taekwondoe practice over my way anyway. He had amazing French for a little boy, and swindled me into the deal! But rain halted our progress again, actually lightning did, rain is not so bad. As we finally headed home, who should I meet walking up the street but my friend! What timing. Then the small lad came over to visit, he asked if he could stay the night, I assured him that wasn’t possible and so we decided he should go to Taekwondo practice at the Youth House, but since night was coming, he asked if I would take him to the main road instead and he’d go home. So after this long process, he headed home. Just as the sun set I arrived home to find the table I had some carpenters make arrive at my house. If I had not been there, it may have sat outside for a while! What timing. Eternally I cannot see the significance of God’s timing, but at least in the present I can see Him working faithfully. Another lesson is learning to let others help me. When I need help, that’s just fine, but there are things I can do, which some believe I can’t, specifically the market. Most Africans believe I will get ripped off if I go bartering myself, it has happened on occasion in the beginning of my sojourn here, but not so much lately. But I really want to learn the culture, learn bartering. But my one friend, Rollande, says he’ll go the market with me and get me good deals. Yet he’s a little over the top bartering for what was at the price everyone already pays. But he just wants to help, and in the spirit of building relationship I go with it. But it is tough. I do have to draw the line when he invites a seller of random goods into my house (while I am there of course) to see if anything interests me. Well I am not really interesting in spending a lot. So his help is appreciated but not necessary in that case.
One more thing, more of an observation. The other day I went outside to discard some vegetable peelings, I think, and noticed a group of men speaking just up the street. More than an hour later I went outside to the outhouse and those same men, in the same spot were there talking! I thought how different from the West. We will sit and talk for hours to talk, but it takes at least a week or two in advance to plan when we will find the time. Here, some people meet they talk. I am not really saying either is good or bad, just noticing life around me.
Again farewell for now and God bless.

In His grip,
Eric “Learner” Anderson
P.S> I have one photo up on Flickr.com, but I haven't figured out the link to it. If you can do it go for it, the account is Beninpics
Next week I'll be in Cotonou with faster internet so I'll do some mad uploading then!