Soccer

So there wasn’t enough space in the last post to write the whole story, so this is part 2 of 3 part story.

Fast forward 2.5 months, to Saturday, May 2nd…

I showed up at school, around 7:00 am ish. It was way too early for me. I am not a morning person. I ran out of water, so I couldn’t even make coffee before I left my house; the wells are running dry, and they closed the pump for a few days to allow the tank to fill with water. Read, limited bucket baths every few days with brown sandy water, and having to buy water sachets by the bulk to drink. Difficult to wash clothes, and washing dishes? Ha. Another reason to not cook. Anyway, water scarcity isn’t the point here. The rainy season is coming, so life is good. Onwards…

It didn’t help either that the night before was International Labor Day, and we had a party at the village nightclub. Yes, you heard that right. The village NIGHTCLUB. THE VILLAGE NIGHTCLUB. Yes, my friends. There is a village nightclub. Teachers and community members, but mostly teachers, put on their fancy clothes. Suit pants with white or blue button Oxford shirts and for the men, and everything from white sparkly bedazzled dresses to matching fabric shirt-pants suit for the women. I wore my new thin-strapped purple patterned dress with a light ocean blue colored scarf, my silver dangly leaf earrings, and black flats. I even wore mascara and eye liner, and washed my hair. This was the most dressed up and the cleanest I have ever felt in village. It was wonderful to feel like an actual girl! My neighbor’s brother Jean drove me over to the club on his moto, as it was almost 9 pm, and the club is on the other side of the village. And when I say club, I mean a small outside area enclosed by a cement wall, with a giant mango tree in the center and a room to the side where the refrigerators filled with beer were kept. Teens were hanging out near the entrance, but weren’t allowed in as it was a teacher and local worker’ party. But it was mostly teachers. Music was playing, and people sat in chairs along the perimeter of the dance area. My homologue showed up, and we hung out for a bit. It’s nice to speak English, and to not have to try so hard to converse with someone. The wind picked up quite a bit, and mangoes were dropping off the tree onto the dance floor. People seemed apprehensive to dance, but a few people got up there to kick the party off. Mr. Dine was there, and at one point he came over, held out his hand, and asked me to dance with him. Umm what? Everyone had sat down, so I shyly got up and ‘slow-ish’ danced with him for a song. Then an American rap song came on for a few seconds, I laughed, and sat back down.

In true Beninese style, the power went out. When the electricity zapped out, you could hear the collective animated yet disappointed, but expected ‘Oohhhh’ from the crowd. Ahahaha!!! Oh Benin. Never a dull moment. We sat there in the dark, for about an hour. Then someone rolled in a generator and some extension cords (….?!?!…..), and the music came back on. The party had restarted, though some people had dipped out. Alright, Meg. Get on up. It was time. I bravely got up off the chair, and walked over to the dance floor where a few other women were dancing in a group. I started spinning around, flailing my arms, and stepping about, in what I like to think of as my personal salsa dancing style. More people got up to dance, and it tuned into one of those middle school dances where everyone is strung up on sugar and being around their friends. I would like to describe it as a flock of teachers channeling their inner birds. Ahahaha! It was fabulous. Arms were flailing about, hips were moving, and feet were stepping this way and that. Not one ounce of embarrassment was had; they confidently strutted their stuff under the mango tree. And somewhere, there are pictures to prove it because there was a teacher turned-photographer-for-the-night documenting the event. It was hands down the funniest night I’ve ever had here in village. Another math teacher friend of mine (whom I trust, is the president of the teachers, and whom I like to have ‘what is the meaning of life, and is there really a god?’ conversations with) drove me back home and gave me a bag full of mangoes. It was about 12:30 pm, the latest I had ever been out. And what a night out on the town it was! And I had to wake up at 6 am the next morning to meet my soccer girls and travel to our first game. Oy! Bring it on. I had a new blue and orange antelope fabric bedazzled dress that I was going to wear. Yes. That’s right. A bedazzled antelope dress.

Stay tuned….. for "The Very First Ever Girls’ Soccer Tournement in our commune of Kouande."

I’m going to have to rewind a little bit, and start from the beginning. This is two installments in one. Here we go…

It’s the morning of Saturday, February 7th. I’m in my house, getting ready for my first English Club meeting. My nerves were jumping all over the place, as I wasn’t sure how many kids were going to show up, if I could count on either of my homologues to show up and help out (which they didn’t. Of course. Surprise surprise.), and if the activities I’d planned would be sufficient. I squirted sunscreen into my hands and covered my face, neck and arms with the slightly fragrant watery lotion. I grabbed my backpack and my keys, and stepped out onto my porch. Here we go, I thought, as I locked my door and ventured out into the world. Nerves full of excitement and not knowing what would happen, I trudged north along the paved highway towards the school. Today would be a day full of many firsts, as it was the day I was officially starting my two new clubs: English, and Girls’ soccer.

I returned home about 3 hours later, after a so-so first English Club. If I’m being real honest, I don’t put a whole lot of effort into English Club, thought it’s a Peace Corps TEFL requirement. You learn what the important things are as you go along day after day, and for me, English Club ain’t one of them. The thing I was most frazzled about was our first soccer practice later that afternoon. The school admin went around the classrooms telling the students that we were starting a girls’ soccer team. An organization called One World Futbol donated 2,000 soccer balls to Peace Corps Benin, and in turn, the soccer balls were given to the volunteers to promote gender equality in our villages. So, I started a girls’ team.

At about 2:30 that afternoon, with my blue and neon green Nike shoes tied up, and my purple JMU baseball hat on, I left my house with my box of 10 new bright yellow supposedly indestructible soccer balls. I walked up the paved road, the box balanced first in my arms, then on my head. Women here balance everything on their heads, so I figured I wouldn’t look completely ridiculous if I tried it. Some kid saw me and insisted on helping me carry the box, so I gave in and gave it to him. We arrived at school, and walked behind the row of classrooms to the sports’ field. He set the box down, and I took a deep sigh of nervous air. I was 30 minutes early, and I had absolutely no idea if anyone was going to show up… Coaches or girls. I sat down on the giant fallen tree trunk, and waited.

About 25 minutes later, 5 minutes before practice is supposed to start, the boys’ coach rolls up on his moto. A few boys started warming up and stretching on the far corner of the field. Girls too, started showing up from all sides of the field: from around the corners of the houses next to the field, from between the trees, and from through the school yard. A few of them even drove up on Motos. I could sense their nervousness, and their excitement. A few of my younger 6eme boy students showed up, then reluctantly turned away when they realized it was just for the girls. I was just thinking that no one would show up to help me with the practice, when out of now where, another three motos pulled into sight. One was Mr. Dine, (a math teacher, who is now my 3rd homologue. I’ll talk about him later), the second was another math teacher (who I just recently found out, like last weekend, coaches a girls’ team in a village about 20 minutes away, down the red dirt road that leads to the town of Kouande), and third, was Madame LuCresse. Ha. Madame LuCresse. She was QUITE the unexpected surprise. She rolled up on her moto, in a matching blue and white Nike track outfit. She was wearing a black baseball hat, and had earbuds, connected to a music player, dangling from her neck. A larger woman, she had an air that commanded instant respect, and showed that she was a no non-sense kind of person. I had no idea she even existed, and the first thing she said to me was that Director told her to help me out. Alrighty then. Our girls’ coach. Cool! I learned that she was a PE teacher at the school for a 6eme class, and was one of maybe 4 female PE teachers in the entirety of this region of Benin. Wowzah. After she briefly glanced my way, she blew her whistle at the 40 girls cowering behind the giant tree trunk. The girls were wearing their pagnas (pieces of fabric tied around their waists) and were shy and hesitant. Madam LuCresse yelled something along the lines of: "Don’t expect to play soccer in your pagnas. Take ’em off… Now. And your jewelry. And let’s get going. We’re already 10 minutes behind schedule." Wow, this Madam LuCresse. Who is she and where did she come from?!? This is great! The girls untied their skirts to reveal everything from soccer shorts with sparkly colorful leggings, to T-shirts and tank tops, and gym uniform as. It’s culturally inappropriate to show your legs above the knee, so that’s why the girls were a bit shy. But they got over it real quick. None of them had soccer shoes, so they started running laps in their flip flops and sandals, then decided to continue on in bare feet, stopping every so often to pull out shards of stick from their feet.

I ran a few laps with the girls to warm up, and then we stretched a bit. More and more girls continued to materialize, so the girls who were warmed up went to practice passing with Coach Madam, and the two math teachers (who play on the local team. Everyone here plays soccer. From the moment they learn to walk, they are kicking around a ball with their friends. And by they, I mean boys.) and I led the stretching. For 3 hours, the girls practiced stopping, controlling, and passing the ball. It was a site for sore eyes. The girls had a grand ‘ole time, hanging out with their friends, kicking around a soccer ball, and laughing at each other. At the end of it, a total of 80 girls had showed up. We had quite a few spectators as well, including teachers, students, friends, mamas, a few dogs and pigs, a herd of cows, and the biggest fans of all: the petites. Aka the kids. At the end, the Censeur (Vice Principal) came out, and as the smooth talker he is, gave a great motivational speech to the girls about gender equality and the opportunities of playing soccer. It was absolutely fabulous, and I was so so happy at the outcome of our first day. I skipped all the way home, and celebrated with a cold coke.