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My parents have been to Benin three times.
The first time was in 2008, mainly out of curiosity about where their daughter was spending twenty-seven months of her life. The second time was in 2009, for my wedding, which they learned about during that first visit when I introduced them to my future husband and my dad gave his blessing. English to French and back again, translated by... well, that is another story for another time. The third time was in 2015, when we surprised them with our fully built house in Kabole. That was such a fantastic trip, the looks on their faces as we kept passing hotels that we were supposed to be staying at, and then driving through a bush cut path and arriving at our house (because at the time, there wasn’t a great road going to our house).
I am so grateful they made the trip each time, even more so that they were able to see it more than once. It gave them context. They could understand what I was talking about when I explained things happening in Benin, see where my husband grew up, meet his family, and, in general, just have a picture in their minds when I say the word Benin.
Last week, I had the opportunity to meet in person one of the participants in my doctoral research. The first thing she said after we hugged was, “I feel like I know you already.” And all I could do was nod yes, I feel like I know you too.
And what blows my mind is that comment comes after only five weeks of an online tour. Not even an in-person visit. Five weeks of a virtual experience of Benin, and she felt like she already knew me. How incredible is that?!
My dad happened to be sitting nearby and asked her whether she would like to travel to Benin someday. She said, “Absolutely! Of course! I would love to go there.”
My dad responded, “Well, it’s different.”
I love that word. He didn’t say it was a third-world country. He didn’t say people are poor there. He didn’t reach for any of the tired connotations that would put it down or flatten it. He simply said it was different. Which is true. It is very different from the United States. And different is exactly the right word.
The Two-Year-Old’s Way of Walking
This morning, my youngest reminded me of something important.
He is two and a half, and when we go for a walk, he does not have a program or an agenda. He is not counting steps or watching the clock. He is just walking, exploring, being curious, and learning. He picks up rocks. He collects snails to carry all the way home. He stops and looks at things that the rest of us walk right past.
I remembered that each of my children has gone through this phase, and that this was, again, for the third time, a reminder for me to slow down. To remember that as humans, we are learning from the very beginning, and that no matter how fast I try to rush them, my little guys are just learning behind me, without a care in the world.
That is the mindset I would love for people to bring when they visit Benin.
Come to learn about a place that is different from where you come from. Don’t arrive with a fixed idea of what it should look like or how it should feel. You will have expectations and filters built in, we all do, we have been around long enough for that, but hold them loosely. Stay curious. Stay slow enough to pick up the rocks and notice the snails.
Because sometimes those moments of slow, curious learning become something more. Sometimes they shift a perspective in a way that stays with you long after you come home. That is transformative learning. And that is what I am designing Hello West Africa around. (Who knew you would end up talking about transformative learning here, LOL.)
Development in Benin
Benin has a new president, and chances are you didn’t hear about it on the evening news.
On May 24th, Romuald Wadagni was inaugurated, making him the country’s first new head of state in a decade. He’s a finance guy, a technocrat who spent years at Deloitte before President Talon brought him in as Minister of Economy and Finance. Ten years of steady growth above 6% later, he now runs the country I call my second home.
The new president has a focus on manufacturing, particularly cotton. Benin is one of the top cotton exporters on the continent, yet it exports raw cotton and imports finished materials to make clothes. There is a real opportunity to change that, to keep the value inside the country rather than sending it out the door. I am watching that with a lot of interest, because I’m so excited to finally see it come to fruition. These are ideas that were talked about when I was a Peace Corps volunteer. When I left Benin in early 2022, they were beginning to build manufacturing facilities north of Cotonou in an area called Calavi.
The region where our property sits, about 140 miles north of the city of Cotonou, is also growing rapidly. The third-largest market in Benin is about three miles from our village in Glazoué, and they recently rebuilt it into a large, permanent marketplace where people can sell every day, not just on the major Wednesday market day. More people are coming. More roads. More electricity.
Which brings me to something a little bittersweet.
We are selling our cashew tree farm.
We bought the property about twelve years ago when it was just open farmland, no houses, no roads, just a small path, almost a mile from our house to reach it. We planted cashew trees, peanuts, chickpeas, among other things. The kids used to climb the trees. We used to go just to sit and watch things grow.
Today, roads and electricity poles run through it. Houses and apartments are going up everywhere. There are buvettes (outdoor bars and restaurants) on the corners. The area has developed so much around it that a cashew farm is no longer practical. We can’t really control people coming and going. Funny story about that. My mother-in-law went to the farm one day to check on the trees, and she noticed a man picking the cashew apples. She let him know that this was her farm, and his response was, “The trees are for everyone, right?” Maybe not so funny, but culturally, that is just the way it is. So we are letting it go.
We spent ten years nurturing those trees. And development has been nurturing the region too. I should be happy about this, right? This is what everyone in the outside world says should happen — development. I think I still have mixed feelings about it. But there is still land available elsewhere, so there are other farm ideas in our future. And don’t worry, if you come on tour with us, we will still take you to see some cashew trees!
What Really Happened Last Week
A quieter week, with life things still happening. At times, I wonder if I should talk about those, but then I realize some things need to stay private, need to stay mine. I posted the newsletter, but didn’t spend much time on LinkedIn or Instagram.
But I did notice something that stopped me in my tracks: the Learning Lens issue Can Transformative Travel Be Designed has nearly a thousand podcast downloads!
A thousand. I almost can’t believe it. I refreshed the page a couple of times just to make sure. For a newsletter that is still finding its audience. That tells me something about what people are hungry for, and it confirms the road I need to travel down, outside of building Hello West Africa. I could talk about transformative learning and travel all day. I am so excited about where this is going.
I attended a Women Who Thrive in Travel Zoom conference on Sunday, featuring about 13 speakers, all women, discussing their businesses and the travel trends they are seeing in the industry. It was incredible. This was put on by the Travel Coaching Network, the same community where I have my very first podcast recording scheduled for June 17th. Silently saying Woohoo in my head!
I also emailed the Hello West Africa advisors to get a group Zoom on the calendar. Hopefully, we can make that happen in the next couple of weeks. Everyone in the same virtual room, sharing ideas, seeing where the business is and where it needs to go.
And I have been getting back to the brass tacks of Hello West Africa. Identifying the key tasks. Working on the pitch. Editing the business plan ahead of the advisor meeting.
What’s Coming Next
I am working on something related to transformative learning that I hope to share with the world next week. A way to help people see that it is possible to design for transformation, and to give them something practical to take away. Stay tuned.
The Learning Lens goes out next week.
And the advisor Zoom, whenever we can get everyone together, is going to be a good one. I will certainly have some good stories to tell after that!
What I’m Learning
Last week, a woman on LinkedIn posted this phrase:
An invitation into something they can only do with you, in this place, right now.
And it was like finding a north star for how I should be talking about Hello West Africa. For a long time, there has been a bit of a haze around that, but now I have that sticky-noted to my bulletin board, and I look at it to center myself when I sit down to write posts, or newsletters, or talk about Hello West Africa. Or even transformative learning.
Which is why I keep coming back to the nearly thousand podcast downloads on one Learning Lens issue.
Not because it is a vanity metric, but because it shows that the conversation around transformative learning and travel is one people are ready to have. The research is young. The field is new. And there is a real gap between the theory and what is actually being practiced in the industry.
I want to help close that gap. And I want to do it by inviting people into something they can only do with me, right here, right now.
Ooh, just writing that makes my eyes twinkle!
In My Free Time
The weather has been beautiful almost every day, except Memorial Day, when we had a barbecue anyway because, well, even when it’s raining, a BBQ is a good idea! Cloudy the last couple of days, but sunshine is back now. Not super warm, but I will take it.
Doves are cooing outside right now, which always takes me back to visiting my grandparents in New York. Hot, humid days, where I would wake up to the family sawmill next door coming to life, and walking down to the kitchen to breakfast with Gram and Pop.
Oh, how wonderful life is. Learning more every day.
There is always room for a little more learning.
Until next week,
P.S. — Hello West Africa is looking for aligned investors and Founding Supporters. If you want to be part of building this before the doors open, reply to this email and let’s talk.
By Dr. Debra Kouda | Between the Pacific Northwest and Benin, West AfricaMy parents have been to Benin three times.
The first time was in 2008, mainly out of curiosity about where their daughter was spending twenty-seven months of her life. The second time was in 2009, for my wedding, which they learned about during that first visit when I introduced them to my future husband and my dad gave his blessing. English to French and back again, translated by... well, that is another story for another time. The third time was in 2015, when we surprised them with our fully built house in Kabole. That was such a fantastic trip, the looks on their faces as we kept passing hotels that we were supposed to be staying at, and then driving through a bush cut path and arriving at our house (because at the time, there wasn’t a great road going to our house).
I am so grateful they made the trip each time, even more so that they were able to see it more than once. It gave them context. They could understand what I was talking about when I explained things happening in Benin, see where my husband grew up, meet his family, and, in general, just have a picture in their minds when I say the word Benin.
Last week, I had the opportunity to meet in person one of the participants in my doctoral research. The first thing she said after we hugged was, “I feel like I know you already.” And all I could do was nod yes, I feel like I know you too.
And what blows my mind is that comment comes after only five weeks of an online tour. Not even an in-person visit. Five weeks of a virtual experience of Benin, and she felt like she already knew me. How incredible is that?!
My dad happened to be sitting nearby and asked her whether she would like to travel to Benin someday. She said, “Absolutely! Of course! I would love to go there.”
My dad responded, “Well, it’s different.”
I love that word. He didn’t say it was a third-world country. He didn’t say people are poor there. He didn’t reach for any of the tired connotations that would put it down or flatten it. He simply said it was different. Which is true. It is very different from the United States. And different is exactly the right word.
The Two-Year-Old’s Way of Walking
This morning, my youngest reminded me of something important.
He is two and a half, and when we go for a walk, he does not have a program or an agenda. He is not counting steps or watching the clock. He is just walking, exploring, being curious, and learning. He picks up rocks. He collects snails to carry all the way home. He stops and looks at things that the rest of us walk right past.
I remembered that each of my children has gone through this phase, and that this was, again, for the third time, a reminder for me to slow down. To remember that as humans, we are learning from the very beginning, and that no matter how fast I try to rush them, my little guys are just learning behind me, without a care in the world.
That is the mindset I would love for people to bring when they visit Benin.
Come to learn about a place that is different from where you come from. Don’t arrive with a fixed idea of what it should look like or how it should feel. You will have expectations and filters built in, we all do, we have been around long enough for that, but hold them loosely. Stay curious. Stay slow enough to pick up the rocks and notice the snails.
Because sometimes those moments of slow, curious learning become something more. Sometimes they shift a perspective in a way that stays with you long after you come home. That is transformative learning. And that is what I am designing Hello West Africa around. (Who knew you would end up talking about transformative learning here, LOL.)
Development in Benin
Benin has a new president, and chances are you didn’t hear about it on the evening news.
On May 24th, Romuald Wadagni was inaugurated, making him the country’s first new head of state in a decade. He’s a finance guy, a technocrat who spent years at Deloitte before President Talon brought him in as Minister of Economy and Finance. Ten years of steady growth above 6% later, he now runs the country I call my second home.
The new president has a focus on manufacturing, particularly cotton. Benin is one of the top cotton exporters on the continent, yet it exports raw cotton and imports finished materials to make clothes. There is a real opportunity to change that, to keep the value inside the country rather than sending it out the door. I am watching that with a lot of interest, because I’m so excited to finally see it come to fruition. These are ideas that were talked about when I was a Peace Corps volunteer. When I left Benin in early 2022, they were beginning to build manufacturing facilities north of Cotonou in an area called Calavi.
The region where our property sits, about 140 miles north of the city of Cotonou, is also growing rapidly. The third-largest market in Benin is about three miles from our village in Glazoué, and they recently rebuilt it into a large, permanent marketplace where people can sell every day, not just on the major Wednesday market day. More people are coming. More roads. More electricity.
Which brings me to something a little bittersweet.
We are selling our cashew tree farm.
We bought the property about twelve years ago when it was just open farmland, no houses, no roads, just a small path, almost a mile from our house to reach it. We planted cashew trees, peanuts, chickpeas, among other things. The kids used to climb the trees. We used to go just to sit and watch things grow.
Today, roads and electricity poles run through it. Houses and apartments are going up everywhere. There are buvettes (outdoor bars and restaurants) on the corners. The area has developed so much around it that a cashew farm is no longer practical. We can’t really control people coming and going. Funny story about that. My mother-in-law went to the farm one day to check on the trees, and she noticed a man picking the cashew apples. She let him know that this was her farm, and his response was, “The trees are for everyone, right?” Maybe not so funny, but culturally, that is just the way it is. So we are letting it go.
We spent ten years nurturing those trees. And development has been nurturing the region too. I should be happy about this, right? This is what everyone in the outside world says should happen — development. I think I still have mixed feelings about it. But there is still land available elsewhere, so there are other farm ideas in our future. And don’t worry, if you come on tour with us, we will still take you to see some cashew trees!
What Really Happened Last Week
A quieter week, with life things still happening. At times, I wonder if I should talk about those, but then I realize some things need to stay private, need to stay mine. I posted the newsletter, but didn’t spend much time on LinkedIn or Instagram.
But I did notice something that stopped me in my tracks: the Learning Lens issue Can Transformative Travel Be Designed has nearly a thousand podcast downloads!
A thousand. I almost can’t believe it. I refreshed the page a couple of times just to make sure. For a newsletter that is still finding its audience. That tells me something about what people are hungry for, and it confirms the road I need to travel down, outside of building Hello West Africa. I could talk about transformative learning and travel all day. I am so excited about where this is going.
I attended a Women Who Thrive in Travel Zoom conference on Sunday, featuring about 13 speakers, all women, discussing their businesses and the travel trends they are seeing in the industry. It was incredible. This was put on by the Travel Coaching Network, the same community where I have my very first podcast recording scheduled for June 17th. Silently saying Woohoo in my head!
I also emailed the Hello West Africa advisors to get a group Zoom on the calendar. Hopefully, we can make that happen in the next couple of weeks. Everyone in the same virtual room, sharing ideas, seeing where the business is and where it needs to go.
And I have been getting back to the brass tacks of Hello West Africa. Identifying the key tasks. Working on the pitch. Editing the business plan ahead of the advisor meeting.
What’s Coming Next
I am working on something related to transformative learning that I hope to share with the world next week. A way to help people see that it is possible to design for transformation, and to give them something practical to take away. Stay tuned.
The Learning Lens goes out next week.
And the advisor Zoom, whenever we can get everyone together, is going to be a good one. I will certainly have some good stories to tell after that!
What I’m Learning
Last week, a woman on LinkedIn posted this phrase:
An invitation into something they can only do with you, in this place, right now.
And it was like finding a north star for how I should be talking about Hello West Africa. For a long time, there has been a bit of a haze around that, but now I have that sticky-noted to my bulletin board, and I look at it to center myself when I sit down to write posts, or newsletters, or talk about Hello West Africa. Or even transformative learning.
Which is why I keep coming back to the nearly thousand podcast downloads on one Learning Lens issue.
Not because it is a vanity metric, but because it shows that the conversation around transformative learning and travel is one people are ready to have. The research is young. The field is new. And there is a real gap between the theory and what is actually being practiced in the industry.
I want to help close that gap. And I want to do it by inviting people into something they can only do with me, right here, right now.
Ooh, just writing that makes my eyes twinkle!
In My Free Time
The weather has been beautiful almost every day, except Memorial Day, when we had a barbecue anyway because, well, even when it’s raining, a BBQ is a good idea! Cloudy the last couple of days, but sunshine is back now. Not super warm, but I will take it.
Doves are cooing outside right now, which always takes me back to visiting my grandparents in New York. Hot, humid days, where I would wake up to the family sawmill next door coming to life, and walking down to the kitchen to breakfast with Gram and Pop.
Oh, how wonderful life is. Learning more every day.
There is always room for a little more learning.
Until next week,
P.S. — Hello West Africa is looking for aligned investors and Founding Supporters. If you want to be part of building this before the doors open, reply to this email and let’s talk.