the venice of africa

Family life.

Less than an hour outside of Cotonou there’s a fascinating little town, population 20,000, that’s different from all other towns in Benin. It’s built entirely on stilts.

According to local legend this town came to be about 400 years ago in an attempt to escape slavers, who either couldn’t swim or wouldn’t fight on water for religious reasons — the story is a little unclear. But the name Ganvie comes from the Tofinu words “gan,” which means “we are saved” and “vie” which means “community.”

These days Ganvie is best known as “the Venice of Africa.” That may be a little optimistic, but it’s certainly an interesting place.

With the obvious exception that it’s built on stilts and its residents get around on boats, it’s really just like any other Beninese village. There are vegetable markets. Dozens of women moor side by side and sell goods out of their canoes.

Get your tomatoes here.

There are shops, both big and small.

Playfully named Dantokpa, just like the giant market in Cotonou.

There are places to buy clothes.

Here's a store called Haute Couture.

There’s a community center.

Maybe the biggest building on stilts.

Women gather to chat as they go about their daily chores, which include waiting at the community pump where they fill up jugs with clean water for about ten cents a gallon.

Just hanging out.
Another family home.

It’s about a 15 minute row between Ganvie and dry land. This kid is enjoying the ride.

Splash guard.

Ganvie’s economy thrives on fishing, tourism, and trade with nearby Nigeria.

Casting a net.

Our tour guide explained that Beninese people are just as fascinated by Ganvie as we are. They love to come and visit and see this strange place for themselves, but they would never want to live here. They consider it too isolated. Plus, they don’t really like water.

Out and about.

But if this lifestyle appeals to you, take note. You can buy your own boat for about $200, and there are plenty of new houses under construction too. I must admit I was a little tempted after doing the math and realizing if I moved to Ganvie I could never work again.

Stake your claim now.

I call dibs on the big one.

Posted in Welcome | 7 Comments

the future

There’s a quote: “When you win, say nothing. When you lose, say less.”

Sorry for our silence these past few weeks. As you might have guessed, we received Alex’s onward assignment. As you might have also guessed, it was not what we were hoping. It is not an awful place, but it was at the very bottom of our list because it does not meet our only preference: somewhere that would make us becoming a tandem couple possible. We’re confused, angry, and sad all at once. This changes a lot for us, and we’re honestly not sure what’s coming next. We hope you’ll forgive us for not saying more until we do.

Posted in Tandem Issues | 15 Comments

snakes

How did I spend my afternoon at work? Oh, you know, no big deal. I was just out and about with a python draped around my neck.

Smiling out of fear.

The python temple in Ouidah is one of Benin’s notable cultural sites, and so a few members of the American Cultural Center team made a quick stop today before a meeting and performance at another nearby cultural institution, CIAMO. The singing schoolchildren were way cuter than the snakes, I assure you.

It would have been a pretty perfect afternoon had I not been glued to my BlackBerry anxiously watching for news about my onward assignment. Nothing yet, folks. Maybe tomorrow.

Posted in FS Life | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

the fourth

Here’s something I didn’t know before joining the Foreign Service: the Fourth of July is a big freaking deal.

Sure, I celebrated July 4th growing up. In fact, I have lovely memories of it. Watching the fireworks on the train tracks with dozens of my closest neighborhood friends. Piling in the backs of various wood-paneled station wagons to return to our block. Scurrying over to the Muldoon family’s backyard to feast on watermelon. Then enjoying another fireworks display orchestrated by the neighborhood dads.

But I have similarly lovely memories of Easter. And Christmas. And Thanksgiving. And Memorial Day. And New Year’s. The Fourth of July seemed like just another holiday until I signed up to work for the U.S. government.

At U.S. Embassies and Consulates around the globe, the Fourth of July celebration is the diplomatic event of the year. Planning meetings start at least six months in advance. There are committees. Sub-committees. Budgets. Guest lists. Protocol issues. Headaches.

Fortunately for me, my first Fourth of July experience was not at all the headache I had been warned to expect. It probably helped that we happened to be back in D.C. during many of the early planning meetings. It also probably helped that we are currently between Ambassadors at post, so the Chargé d’Affaires decided it would be more appropriate to go a slightly more casual, slightly more low key route.

Bet your Chargé d'Affaires didn't make your giant and impressive Fourth of July cake by hand.

Really, it turned out to be a nice evening. Hamburgers and hot dogs shipped all the way from the U.S. Real American corn. Interesting guests. Delicious cake. A U.S. military band. Together with Andy I manned “zone B,” making sure people in our area circulated and the space remained presentable. I also handled the press. But my main contribution to the event was the Chargé d’Affaires’ keynote address. She asked for something very different from past speeches — patriotic but also lighthearted. I worked hard to strike the right balance and was happy both to hear the audience chuckle and to later learn that the Minister of Foreign Affairs complimented the speech and asked if he could have a copy. Phew. Major diplomatic crisis averted.

Oh, and no, you’re not going crazy: I am indeed writing in the past tense about the Fourth of July before the actual Fourth of July. Our July 4 party was held on June 30. Go figure.

Posted in FS Life | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

having it all

Well, I can’t just not even mention that Anne-Marie Slaughter article you’re seeing everywhere, now can I? You know, that one in which a hot shot career woman declares that, no, it’s still not possible for women to “have it all.” When did she realize this? Why, after her stint at the State Department, of course.

You mean to tell me it’s hard to be a mom who works for the State Department? I had no idea. (Okay, I had some idea.)

I couldn’t just totally ignore this article given my own ongoing attempt to manage the delicate balancing act between career and family. As I explained in this post back when Flynn was four months old, I always thought I would be a working mom. Then I had a kid. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure. Flynn’s over a year old now, and while I’m feeling more and more confident that work is where I belong, I do still sometimes question that. (Confession: I get perhaps a little too excited about the thought of Andy joining the Foreign Service and me taking a few years off to follow him around.)

Oh to be one year old again, when your biggest internal debates were things like: "Do I or do I not put this rock in my mouth?"

When Flynn was five months old, I was trying so hard to be the perfect new diplomat that I was barely seeing my son. This made me miserable, so I finally forced myself to make some changes. Although I haven’t written much about the professional/personal tug of war since then, it continues to be a daily struggle to be both the sort of employee and the sort of parent that I expect myself to be. The vast majority of the time I fall short at both.

Given my experience — and the experiences of the many wonderful mentors I’ve met along the way who have generously shared their own stories — I have to say that I wholeheartedly agree with Slaughter’s conclusion. I don’t believe anyone can have it “all” — at least not when “all” is defined as both a prestigious career and a family life in which you play an active role.

This is not to say that parents can’t be happy. “All” isn’t the same for everyone. This is also not to say that parents can’t work.  Of course they can. Slaughter herself admits that there are certain professions that lend themselves well to parenthood, like her primary career in academia. Even within the State Department there are paths you can take that will allow you to be home most evenings for dinner and never miss a weekend Little League game. But choosing such a path also means taking yourself out of the running for future positions of real influence.

No, I don’t believe that women can — at this time, in this society — be both change-makers and engaged parents. What I do believe is perfectly summed up by the wise words of former General Electric CEO Jack Welch: “There’s no such thing as work-life balance. There are work-life choices, and you make them, and they have consequences.”

May we all make our choices wisely.

Posted in Welcome | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

bidding by number

At long last we submitted 30 bids for our second post in this Foreign Service adventure.

Our bids include:

  • 17 cities
  • 14 countries
  • 6 continents
  • 7 bids on the same city
  • 3 bids that would include living in NYC for four months
  • 13 bids that would give this tandem thing a decent shot of working
  • 2 bids that would allow Flynn to keep up with his French
  • 4 bids that wouldn’t allow us to bring Abbey
  • 10 places you would love to visit
  • 4 places no one in their right mind would visit

They do not include:

  • 2 cities that would have been perfect for us, and that both Andy’s DC oncologist and the Regional Medical Officer stationed there said have the facilities Andy needs, but that the Medical Clearances Department still refused to consider for us

If past experience is any indication, we should learn our fate in a week and a half. Fingers crossed.

Posted in FS Life | 9 Comments

our little perfectionist

You know those stories parents love to tell their grown children? “We knew you were going to be a teacher when you were two years old and lined up all your stuffed animals to teach them the ABCs.”

Such claims always seemed a little suspect to me — selective memories sifted out after the fact from many, many others that were conveniently forgotten. Except, everything changes when you have a kid of your own. Now, of course, I totally get it.

At just one year old Flynn is already flashing us very clear hints as to what his future fully developed personality will look like. He’s silly. He’s kind. Here’s one other prediction: he’s going to be a perfectionist.

It seems that most babies learn some early words like mama and dada, and then work on expressing their needs. Maybe they start saying baba to ask for a bottle, for instance. Well, not our son. He says mama, dada, bye-bye, no, and tickle. (Don’t ask about tickle. We have no idea.) We’ve been trying to teach him some other words that he might find a little more useful: up, down, food, more. But he has no interest. The only thing he has interest in is his dog, Abbey. That’s the other word he knows. He chases her around the house muttering her name. Every time we return to the house from being away he runs to the door, muttering her name. Sometimes he falls asleep at night muttering her name.

Yes, he’s a little obsessed with Abbey.

Their friendship goes way back.

The problem is that he’s had some trouble saying Abbey. At first it was Baaboo. It sounded so little like Abbey that initially Andy didn’t believe that’s what Flynn meant. But soon it became clear that it was. After a few weeks it graduated to Aaaboo. For months after that he would try to improve further. He would say, “Aaaboo.” I would correct him, with emphasis: “Aaaaaa-BEEE.” Then he would try to copy me: “Aaaaaa… [dramatic pause] …baaboo.” No, not quite.

Today, unprovoked, Flynn said the dog’s name right. Abbey. He knew it too, and he was so proud. He looked up at me and his nanny for confirmation. When we smiled and clapped and cheered for him, he ran off to say it to his dad. Abbey, Abbey, Abbey, he told his dad. Then back to chasing Abbey around the house. Abbey, Abbey, Abbey, Abbey, Abbey.

Perfecting the dog’s name doesn’t seem like the most efficient use of Flynn’s baby brainpower if you ask me. He already had a word for her. We understood it. It worked just fine. Personally, I would have moved on to figuring out new and different words that could have helped me ask for another toy or a better snack. But not Flynn. Quality over quantity from our little perfectionist.

Posted in Personal | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

foreign service fifteen

I could tell you it’s baby weight, but that would be a lie. I was back to pre-baby size a few months after giving birth, before even arriving in Benin. It was after I got to post that the weight gain began.

I doubt I’m alone in this.

You have no idea what those strange fruits and vegetables even are, let alone how to prepare them. But what’s that you see in the freezer aisle? A frozen pizza? That’ll work.

You get tired of frozen pizza, but you’re still not brave enough to tackle those strange fruits and vegetables. What can you buy online and ship from the U.S.? Mac and cheese? Okay. And throw some cookie and brownie mixes in too while you’re at it.

Navigating this crazy new life is hard. Here, have another cookie.

Before long it’s time for your first trip away from post. Oh my goodness! Bagels and real pizza and sushi and waffles and good cheese? Who knows when you’ll have access to such deliciousness again. Better cram in as much now as you can!

And before you know it you’re back at post and none of your work clothes fit, and there’s nothing that makes a person grumpier than sitting at work all day stuffed into clothes that don’t fit.

Or maybe it’s just me.

But I don’t think it is.

Unfortunately for us, the Foreign Service Fifteen is worse than the Freshman Fifteen. It hits at a time in our lives when our bodies aren’t quite so resilient. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks now, but no luck so far. Except for negotiating the purchase of a bunch of fancy exercise equipment for the house, which will certainly help. But it won’t arrive until its current owners leave post in August.

In the meantime…

What’s worked for you, Foreign Service friends?

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scratch that

After much researching and conversing and comparing and reassessing, we finally thought we had our bids all figured out.

There were three places that had good tandem prospects, allowed dogs, and just generally seemed like fine places to spend two years of our lives. There were a handful of jobs in each of these places, so they filled up a good portion of our list of 30. They also weren’t exactly dream  posts for most people, so by putting them at the top, we were likely to get one.

We were still tinkering around with the exact order of our listings, but we were feeling pretty settled in our fate. Three places. We would most likely be going to one of these three places.

Then…

We finally heard back from the State Department’s Medical Department about where Andy would and would not be allowed to go. Because of his recent health issues, he doesn’t yet have a full medical clearance and needs to get approval for each specific post. Guess where was NOT approved: those three places (and a few others too).

The thing is, Med’s rulings just didn’t make sense.

Those three cities are all much, much, much more developed than Cotonou, where Andy was allowed to come back. They are much more developed than a lot of places on our list that were approved. Quick Google searches revealed what seemed like world class medical options. When I reached out to the American doctors stationed at the Embassies in each of these places, even they were baffled. Yes,  this city has everything your husband needs at high quality, they all assured me. They sent emails to the Medical Department on our behalf.

Our case rose to the attention of the highest person in the office responsible for such decisions. He was great. He reviewed our case himself and then wrote several long emails explaining things, helping us understand Med’s methodology. He admitted mistakes had been made and apologized profusely for that. One of the three posts that was rejected initially should definitely have been approved. He would change that for us immediately. Phew. One good option was back in the running.

Some of the other posts that had been approved should have been rejected — but no big deal, those were ones that were much lower on our list as they wouldn’t have been great for us anyway.

However, the two others of the posts on which we were banking, well, he agreed with the initial ruling that those weren’t good options. He explained why he thought this and what information he was working from. I still am not entirely convinced that he’s working from accurate information. These are world-class cities. Medical tourism destinations, for goodness sakes. I don’t get it, I really just don’t get it. But he’s the highest person in the office making these decisions. There’s really nowhere else to go from here.

Fortunately he seems like a very kind and fair person, so I’m going to try to have a phone conversation with him Monday to gently make our case for these two posts. I don’t want to go anywhere that actually isn’t suitable for Andy, of course, but I’m still not convinced that these two places aren’t. I consider the conversation ongoing, but I also realize there’s a good chance I’m not going to get anywhere with it.

T minus one week until my bids our due, and we’re no longer feeling very confident about our fate.

Posted in Tandem Issues | 10 Comments

a day at the beach

Weekends in Cotonou usually revolve around the beach. This one was no different. There are a few choices for specific beach destination, though. Today we opted for the closest, just a 20 minute drive past seaside settlements and palm tree forests.

Tall trees.

Our destination was a beachfront restaurant with plenty of lounge chairs.

Here we are.

The food is the main attraction. Even non fish eating Andy opts for the fish of the day here.

Mmmmm.

After eating you can splash around in the water. A few brave people wade out or even surf, but the undertow is far too strong to safely swim with a toddler, much to one certain toddler’s chagrin.

Splish splash.
Let me in!

Want a souvenir to remember your day at the beach? No problem. Dozens of vendors will come right up to your table selling everything from jewelry to baskets to toy chests to swords. Yes, swords.

Need a necklace?

While the beach is a relaxing and lovely way to spend a day for most people, like everything, it’s a little different with a toddler in tow. As our friends relaxed on lounge chairs reading books and magazines, we shielded Flynn from an overeager puppy, shielded said puppy from an overeager Flynn, wiped sand from Flynn’s month, wiped sand from Flynn’s sippy cup, chased Flynn away from waves bigger than him… you get the idea.

We look forward to relaxing when he’s five.

Posted in Benin | 4 Comments