Benin 2013

Two weeks have already passed in Benin and not a word written on my part, so it's time to remedy that. Generally, life has been uneventful which is great news for the productivity of this project and finishing the regional survey, but not so good for producing blog posts. We've fallen into a rhythm of fieldwork and labwork and life is good. A number of workers from previous seasons are working with us again (Bashiru, Lakosey, Valentin) and that makes things speedier and more enjoyable. The guys from Totah are keeping us fed with mangos, delivering huge bags of them at regular intervals during the week. Stranded downtown by a rainstorm the other day, Jason and I sought refuge at Yams Plus and had fries. The guy who grills meet in Fanta is still set up next door. It's nice to be familiar with things, now on my third season here.

On the more entertaining front, We went to the tiny epicerie/supermarket the other day (EcoPrice/YovoMart for you former field schoolers) for some supplies--mostly only white people go there because everyone else gets their food from the outdoor market. We ran into a bunch of Americans, which is a bit atypical. All three of them were these really stout guys, with deep south accents, wearing white and tan t-shirts and khaki pants and combat boots and keffiyehs. Very stereotypically military-looking. They asked me if I was Peace Corps, I said nope, archaeology. They were pretty incredulous and probably channeling images of Indiana Jones. So, I asked what they did and they laughed and replied, "Uhhhhhhhhhhh... Teachers..." and then laughed some more. It was pretty odd and one more up-and-down look of their get-up as well as their fancy, new Land Rover  and we concluded they were American mercenaries on their way to Nigeria or something like it--Benin was clearly just a stopover. I emailed my mother the story and her response was also worth sharing: "Oh yeah, les gorilles, we had those when I lived in Congo. Anyway, be careful with those guys, they are disguised murderers!" The nonchalance combined with the motherly sage advice pretty much sums up my family's attitude about my random travels in West Africa.

The internet is not yet accepting of the fact I'd like to upload some photos (though none of the mercenaries, sorry guys!) so those will have to wait for another day...

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One of the first days in the field...

The road in Nguéniène.

Matthew in the field.

Baobab.

The sun rising over a huge site that we found on survey.

Camel

Start of a work day.

The usual snack break, sitting on a trash pile outside a village. Not our best moment.

Survey survey survey.

Requisite research team band photo.

We ran into this man while mapping a site outside a village. He then began to give us peanuts, producing them endlessly from his pockets until we could hold no more.

Cheers to the end of a transect region.

Pirogues in Saly.

The house on L'Île de Gorée I would want to live in.

L'Île de Gorée.

project mascot

We've adopted a mascot for the project, in the form of a rather small kitten.






Its head is as big as its body and it likes to sleep in boots. No name as of yet, but rest assured we are feeding it a healthy dose of Nido (condensed milk) and fish leftovers. It's going to become a very fat toubab cat ("toubab" being the word for white person in Wolof).

In other, less exiting news, I got a nasty stomach bug and after a few days of that, became dehydrated, disgruntled, and generally pretty miserable. We headed off to Saly for the Urgent Care where they hooked me up to an IV (the nurses were horrified at how small my veins are) and I spent two hours staring at the ceiling of a lovely, renovated 1940s colonial residence as two bottles of fluids drained into me. A few days of cipro and I should be on the mend.

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Now that we're in Tataguine, the internet is a bit quicker, so here's a smattering of photos from the first four weeks of the project, with more to come in upcoming days.

Me at the most westerly point of Africa, the Almadies.


The Lighthouse of the Mamelles in Dakar.


A baobab tree laden with fruit.


Soccer on the sandbars at Fadiouth.


A street in Fadiouth, the island made of shells.

fadiouth

It’s been just over two weeks since we arrived in Senegal. With six full days of survey under our belts, we went to Fadiouth yesterday. A man-made island of shell, houses crowd together in a maze of alleys and white-washed walls. The sun was setting and we watched residents play soccer on the expansive sand bars between the mainland and the island. We had plans to go dancing that night, but work and strong sun had drained us and we sat on mats outside and drank Coca-Cola and Fanta instead.

The electricity is only ever on for a few hours a day so my ability to update may be inconsistent. I'm hoping the next town we stay in will have slightly better internet reception so I can upload some pictures of things so far. Stay tuned.

beginnings

We arrived in Nguéniène yesterday afternoon and life is starting to follow a loose but pleasant pattern. We'll begin fieldwork tomorrow, a welcome change from the lazy ways we've fallen into. The village is relaxed and life is slow. We befriended a neighbor yesterday and convinced him to climb a baobab tree and retrieve some of its fruit so Julia could try it. The flesh is chalky and dry but just the right amount of tart and sweet. Meals are eaten from very large plates, three or four of us crowded around one, eating the portion directly in front of you and working your way from the rim to the center. We sit on straw mats on the front porches of houses, the meal is as communal as possible. In the afternoon, the Senegalese students make an impossibly sweet tea, something akin to thin honey with a frothy head to it. We're looking forward to learning the town and getting down to work in the next few weeks.

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From Lipstick Archaeology

Our bush taxi to Dassa.

From Lipstick Archaeology

My lovely survey crew.

From Lipstick Archaeology

Bashiru, one of the local guys from Totah who works on survey with us. We flagged him as a marker for the car which was on its way to pick us up.

From Lipstick Archaeology

Waiting in the morning for cars to load up and head out.

From Lipstick Archaeology

A bit afraid of the hermaphroditic ostrich in Dassa.

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I've been rather bad about posting any picture of this trip so now I bring you a picture post (with another one to follow soon) of things in no particular order.


More or less how I appear each day on site: disheveled and incredulous. This is at the Cana-Totah site, which is part of the UCLA field school. I occasionally help out on the survey project they're running there.

Me in Ketou, my first solo (or sans organized group) trip in West Africa.

Team Awesome Fix-Crew McMaster 3000. Also, my coworker.

My favorite baobab thus far.

My project director in a souterrain we found on survey.

Outside the internet cafe, looking out on Bohicon.

Ganvie, the Venice of Benin.

betty, we miss you.

We've been digging about a week now and time is slipping through my fingers at an amazing rate. I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get organized but survey is a go and I have cool pottery and slag to prove it.

Today we were running intensive survey through clear fields we'd passed while digging our shovel test pits and the work was exhausting but rewarding, we found an amazing site that I'm very excited about. The best part of the day, though, was the comedy of errors that followed.

Too far from the village we started off at, we called our assistant to tell the car to meet us at the road. After relaying this, but before confirmation, my project head's phone runs out of credits. Mine is already out, as is our assistant's, as is everyone we're with. So the question now: did our request actually make it through. We head for the road and find no car, so we walk what felt like 10 kilometers to the main road. One of the crew hops a zemi to the village--no car. After a number of other errors, our car appears. We hop in, pick up our other crew... and then the car breaks down less than a mile later. We get it going again but only for about 20 feet. Next thing you know, five archaologists are poking around under the hood of poor Betty, our beat up Ford Explorer. Even with the mechanical knowledge of one staff member and despite creative use of flagging tape and bobby pins, Betty is still on the site of the road somewhere outside Bohicon. Get better soon, Betty, you can't quit on us now.

marriage proposals at the market

We're still encountering some rather irritating hold-ups so one of the other staff members and I went to the market to talk to the potters and try and gather some information for an ethnoarchaeological project she's working on. Five marriage proposals later and we felt our resolve waning. The funny thing is, even if you try to tell them you're already married, they just insist that you need an African husband, too. We've contemplated buying rings to wear on our ring fingers just so we can navigate the market more swiftly and efficiently, dodging all but the most determined. I will have to report back on the effectiveness of this ploy.

Spent yesterday building book shelves out of cinder blocks and spare wood and meeting the mayors of the towns I'll be running surveys through. Resourcefulness and patience seem to be the main things holding this project together right now. And alcohol. Nigerian gin (in a Dutch gin bottle) and fresh squeezed orange juice (as in, I just stuck a fork through an orange) are my saving grace right now. We've already polished off a bottle of Jack. Please let us start digging soon.