It's a Hard Life, Helping

Let’s lighten the mood a bit since last time. I’ve gone for a photo approach today, based on some aspects of my week of settling into the heavy demands of expatriate life here in Cotonou. A quick update first – the bag still hasn’t arrived. “Next Tuesday” turned into “No, Next Tuesday”. Here’s hoping I get it tomorrow – The only pair of trousers with me now are heavy jeans and they’re really starting to smell…

 

The hotel room my brother booked for me as I ran across Brussels airport panicking I’d miss the flight because the one from London was so delayed (thanks Phil!). Basically: great food; well looked after; “officially not a hotel so hush-hush”; and AIRCON!!! I felt it was cheating until I turned it on. Then I just didn’t care.



On the back of Gregoire’s bike – he helped me out massively driving me around to places I could buy replacement stuff.


I’m going to skip the rest of the week for now, and focus on the weekend. Some of the guys I’m moving in with next week were heading out to Grand Popo, on the coast right by the Togo border. I thought I’d join them.

 

THE BEACH! Yep, this is Benin’s “most popular tourist spot”. How true – at one stage there were two of us in the sea at the same time, which was outrageous.

Sticking with the theme of showing you where I sleep at night, this was the view from my room at Grand Popo, just off the beach.

   

We took a quick punting trip up the river – Africa-style in a pirogue, not the flat bottom boats of Oxford. Grand Popo is the home of Voodoo (or rather Vodoun as it should be written) so this was a quick intro to the “religion” – I won’t elaborate here as I’m hoping to do something a little fuller on the subject later.

As part of our little boat tour we did a walk around a traditional Vodoun village seeing all the fetiches etc. I felt a little awkward doing this in a poor remote village (“look at the rich white man coming to stare and take photos”) until we reached a group having a Sunday afternoon tipple. Not to back down in a cultural confrontation, I obviously drank whatever it was they gave me (“African gin” – felt like white spirit. Still, the UK’s name is safe in this village). After that I had this strange, euphoric feeling and a general love for all things………….

Local fisher boys out collecting shrimp and catfish in a pirogue. Later in the day Maude, one of my companions on the trip, was taking photos of sea fishermen pulling in the day’s catch until one of them starting chasing her around with a stick shouting angrily…



This week’s final instalment of “where I sleep” – I’ve temporarily moved to someone’s roof, where local cats come to sleep on my face every night. Nice.

 

And a little something to leave you with. As I say, sometimes it can be very hard, helping.