Slumber party

It was late Saturday night. Not after midnight, but when you’ve spent the day at a workshop with 28 secondary-school-aged girls, any time after 8 p.m. seems late. My night, though, was just beginning.

I was at this workshop to help out one of my friends who is in charge of one of our GenEq programs that gives scholarships for female students selected and mentored by volunteers across the country. That night, she and I would be supervising the girls until the next morning, meaning I would be sleeping on a mat on the floor, but also, that I would not be sleeping until these girls were sleeping. And, right now, as I waited for her to finish up some work in another classroom, the girls were not interested in sleeping.

I turned on some music to try to make the time pass faster. When a popular song in Benin came on, I noticed a few of them starting to dance.

I turned the volume up and a few more of them started to dance.

I took the speakers outside and a group followed me.

When my friend showed up 20 minutes late, she found me and a group of five girls outside the classroom where they would be sleeping, dancing away the fatigue.

How Rihanna made me realize I was really living in Benin

It’s early for the US, but late for Benin. My calves hurt from dancing the past hour, and I am daydreaming about the bucket shower that awaits me when I get home. 

A fellow volunteer is talking to the DJ, trying to communicate a request for Beyonce over loud music and non-native languages. Across from me is another; his arms are flailing around to the opening thumps of a Rihanna song.

When I hear a specific song, especially one that I am familiar with, I can normally tie to a specific time and place in my life where that song had some meaning, whether it be dramatic or small. “True Colors”: a retreat I went on my senior year of high school. “Let it Rock”: sophomore year, dorm room, trying to write a paper for sociology. “In One Ear”: New Orleans, spring break 2012.

I have been waiting for when a song will forever be linked to the memory of a specific moment during my service.

I don’t realize that I’ve found my first until my iTunes selects the same Rihanna song a week and a half later when I’m back at my house in my village.

“We Found Love”: Parakou dance floor, December 2012.