Been there, done that.

I spent last week in one of those questionable states that lead me to continually forget that I lived in western Africa. It was Yam Fete in Savalou, and I spent the week leading my friends from up north around the annual party held to receive a blessing from the ancestors for this year’s yam harvest. (which, along with cashews, makes up most of the agricultural economy in my area)

What was weird was that I was doing this all for a second time.

Many of the days here seems to feel like they will last forever (and lead you to do things like paint your house for no apparent reason beyond the simple fact that you can), but then suddenly, you are stuck with moments when you look back at all the time that has already past and you wonder where it went.

I’ve had my second Benin Independence Day and my second Yam Fete, all of which will now be soon followed by my second swear-in ceremony, school year and spring break.

I know now which restaurants have the best yam pile, where the MTN stage will be set up during the festival (and how to win free t-shirts) and which bar has the coldest and cheapest beers.

It’s just that it only feels like yesterday I was doing this all for the first time.