The first post of 2015 finds me sitting on a stool in Suzanne’s little living room. A ceiling fan whirrs above and traffic noise filters in from the street. The new year is getting lost in the shuffle for me, since I’m getting to know a new country, a new continent.

Take last night, for instance. In retrospect New Year’s Eve seemed a good day to arrive. There was a festive atmosphere abroad in the land, people preparing for the celebration. “Bonne Fete!” they said. Have a good holiday. (There’s another phrase specifically for Happy New Year but I’ve already forgotten it.)

What I hadn’t accounted for — but should have — was the racket that lasted past 1 a.m. Firecrackers that seemed to be exploding right outside the window, the high-pitched voices of Beninese women singing. Dogs parking, horns honking. And then, just as I was drifting off, roosters crowing.

It certainly was a memorable New Year’s Eve; I doubt I’ll have another like it. As for resolutions, mine so far are simple. Eat right, drink only bottled water and work up enough courage to ride a motorcycle taxi. I’m almost there!