Taxis, Shrimp, and Bob

Last week I was feeling pretty beat. I have a general idea of the work ahead of me in the next 2 months, but everything keeps changing and moving around (infuriatingly so, but I’m breathing), so when I found out that contrary to my original belief, I didn't actually have to work on Easter Monday, I called Mathieu and told him to pack a suitcase. "I made a reservation; we're going to Grand Popo."

I asked my boss how one gets to Grand Popo, because following the falling-asleep-on-the-motorcycle trip to Ouidah, I figured we should take a bus or a car or something.

"You can take a taxi from Godomey," she answered. "It shouldn't cost you more than 1 500F CFA ($3.50)." Sweet!!

We finish work early on Friday, and I got the work driver to drive me home and wait for me to get a few more things together, change quickly and drive Mathieu and I to Godomey, which is on the outskirts of Cotonou, so we could catch a taxi.

When we got there, there were 5 or 6 random cars, unmarked except for the fact that they were all old cars, falling apart, with drivers shouting out different destinations. Lomé, Ouidah, Lokossa, Abomey... Of course, when they see a white girl they want to know where she's going and if they can rent out the car. 8000F to rent it out. Still cheap, you might say, but way more than 1500!!

We found a driver that would take us for 1300F and waited for the car to fill up. When we left, there were 4 of us in the back (a bigger girl, an older man, Mathieu and I) and 2 people plus the driver in the front (a student and a young military man). Wow, after about 45 minutes I was wishing I'd shelled out the $20 for our own private car, or at least a bit more so that there would only have been 3 of us in the back. Live and learn.

We drove along quickly and I managed to snap some fun pictures along the way of this village built entirely on the lakeside, or in the lake... boats and people milled around everywhere, even in the water.


There were a few scheduled stops and when we did the ladies selling nuts, water and other random food would swarm the car. I kept praying that the driver wouldn’t try to cram someone else in with us, but it seems no one else needed a taxi.

The military man up front got out first and left the 4 of us in back. Happily there was only about 20 minutes left to our trek, and soon the taxi was leaving us on the side of the highway in Grand Popo to continue on its way to Lome, Togo.

We stopped at a restaurant because I'd gotten off work at noon, packed, found a taxi, waited for the taxi to fill up and drove to Grand Popo ... and we arrived at 5pm. 1500F for fresh fish and a local pâte which is different from the stuff we found in Cotonou, grainier and red. Except when she got back from the kitchen, suddenly the price had gone up to 2000F. She let out an "Ah!" of disbelief when we accused her of changing the price because I was Yovo... but regardless, it was delicious.

Sidenote: they don’t speak Fon in Grand Popo, they speak Mina, the language they also speak in parts of Togo.

Then Mathieu and I got on a scooter in search of our hotel. La Maison Blanche had quoted me 25,000F CFA or $57ish for a bungalow beach-side for the night, negotiable, and Mathieu thought it was outrageous, so we went in search of something else. Having called around, I already knew that everything else was booked solid, but I let him try and we drove up and down the Grand Popo strip, Mathieu, the driver and me, on a scooter that had definitely seen better days.

On the way up and down the strip I noticed a raggae bar painted brightly in red, green and yellow... a definite stop during our weekend, I thought.

The Auberge, an old colonial house, was full, but there was a pool we could swim in for 1000F and a nice restaurant we thought we might eat at. Back down the strip to L'étoile de Mer, also booked, and not that nice anyway. Finally we went to La Maison Blanche (the website doesn’t do it justice and I didn’t take any pics of the bungalow itself, sorry), where we pretended not to have a reservation, and the manager (who also turned out to be a great chef) let us know that the rooms are both double, and are 25,000 for a family, but 15,000 or $35 for a couple. Sweet!

Mathieu was worried about security, and asked if they had any guards. Two, apparently, although I never saw any. Regardless, according to everyone Mathieu asked, Grand Popo is pretty sleepy and quiet and no one makes any trouble for anybody. "This isn't Cotonou," they'd answer.

We had a little look around, the beach was much more sea-shelly, less fine than Cotonou's or Ouidah's. I think I prefer Ouidah actually, but Grand Popo had more of a touristy feel. More hotels and places to hang out on the beach.

After sunset we had a bit of tea and pulled up some chairs to watch the many many stars come out, only to see the moon rising on the ocean. Sweet!

I wanted to go for a walk along the water, but Mathieu was worried we’d get attacked and asked a young man at the hotel to join us for our walk. Mathieu likes any excuse to talk to people, and started asking the young man a bunch of questions on Grand Popo, its origins, and what there is to do here. The young man, Godfreid (his mother is Nigerian, but he doesn’t speak English), was more or less knowledgable/helpful. Apparently he’s the chef at a local restaurant, and has been for a whole 3 months!

Saturday we had an omelette and some instant coffee with some pineapple juice, fresh, of course. Then we played in the waves a little, but the lack of any life guards or anyone who can really swim prevented me from diving into the water. I’m an okay swimmer, but the ocean is merciless.

We decided to walk down the beach to check out the menu at the Auberge restaurant and passed by some fishermen and their wives collecting the catch from their nets. Didn’t seem like their catch was much to write home about, but what do I know. One of the fishermen objected to my picture taking – “you should ask permission before you take someone’s picture.” I should know better!!


The menu at the Auberge was expensive and getting to the Auberge was difficult! The sand was burning hot and we had to run from shady spot to shady spot! OW!

On the way back we decided to jog because we’d ordered a shrimp lunch for noon and god only knew what time it really was. We sat down and ordered a tall bottle of water and were so pleased to see our shrimp arrive – super tasty too! Garlic shrimp! The seafood was probably the best part of the trip (except the crab Mathieu had that night – no meat).


Then it was time to go back to the beach to sit under a palapa with some beer to watch the waves and look for seashells from our shady spot.



After a while I started to realize that my skin was pretty burned. I haven’t had a sunburn in Benin yet, despite my time on the beach, so… I kinda stopped wearing lotion. The burn wasn’t too bad, but still owwie.

It was time to get in from the sun, and I went it to take a shower, which was hot because the reservoir is black on top of the bungalow… I haven’t had a hot shower in months! Very nice. I patted myself dry and we decided to nap for about an hour and then go take a walk around town to check out that Raggae bar I saw on the way.

It was a great little place called Lion Bar. There are rooms for rent and there were tents pitched sea-side. There was an elevated concrete dancefloor with lights all around and I thought it would be a really fun place to come for Bob Marley’s birthday on May 11th – a big deal for the youth in Africa.

The owner/DJ was playing some funky little tunes. We had already been drinking beer all afternoon and their cocktail menu was too fun to pass up. We danced a lot that afternoon. The tunes were fun. The owner was happy to have us.

Then Mathieu asked if the SDB or sodabi on the menu was the real stuff… Eau de Palme… the local hard stuff, but it’s actually very nice, very soft. The owner, insulted that we would ask if it was the real stuff, immediately poured us a couple shots, which we sipped, with our cocktails, and our beer. Geez.

One of the shot glasses was from Québec, and when I asked if someone had given him a gift, he said that his wife was from Québec – that she was coming on Tuesday and that he couldn’t move with her to Québec because he has children here in Grand Popo. Very thoughtful for a father, I thought – but Mathieu says that he must be a polygamist. Who knows. Oh Africa.

The idea of Rastas and Rastafarian tradition is interesting. He had a nice mural that talked a bit about the Rasta relationship to the Bible, and a quote by Hailé Sélassié, an Ethiopian Emperor (whose title at one point was Ras Tafari)… check out the wiki en français et in English.

Drunk and late for dinner of disappointing crab and more shrimp, we called our scooter friend who drove us home in time to sit to watch the stars come out and order another big bottle of water.

Again the moon rose on the ocean, and I had the brilliant idea of order a half liter of white wine with dinner.

There was no walk on the beach that night. Actually, I’m not sure I remember much of dinner.

Slept well though and woke up with the worst dry mouth and really achy skin!!

On Sunday we decided that we’d relaxed enough. We packed up our things and had one last jog and breakfast by the sea, and then decided to go hang out at the Rasta bar until we felt it was time to leave, except when we got there, our friend was no where to be seen and there was no music playing, everyone was having breakfast since it was only 11am… a little bummed, we just decided to catch a cab home.

We got to sit in the front on the way back, which was nice – roomier, although there were only 3 people sitting in back. When we sat down, Mathieu asked the driver if he had any music. He scoffed as if to say, “As if I have music in my car. Have you seen my car?”

I have music! (This device has paid for itself many, many times over! So handy!)


Note to travellers: Never go anywhere without a Best of Bob Marley and the Wailers album. It will get you through anything. He’s so easy.

On the way back I took more drive-by pictures and Mathieu pointed out a small grave just outside one of the toll booths. Remind me to tell you the sad story one day.

Sunday we hung out at Mathieu’s mom’s house and went for dinner in an “expensive” restaurant where I ordered pizza with mozzarella on it! Happy Easter! I had rabbit for lunch on Tuesday, and that’s about as “Easter” as I got! No chocolate bunnies or eggs here!

The traffic to and from the beach in Cotonou on Sunday and Monday was unbelievable. There were people everywhere, on motorbikes, in cars, on foot... I decided I didn’t particularly want to partake in the craziness, so we stayed in.

Rained all morning on Monday… Sigh… Life’s a beach!

Tons more pictures in my Flickr set…

Pictures, Ouidah, so sleepy...

I'll be posting more pictures soon, I promise! Work has been busy, weekends have been busy... I keep forgetting my camera at home to upload my pics on the computer here at work (excuses excuses). EDIT! I'VE ADDED PICTURES BELOW! Also, visit my Flickr site to see all the photos I added. I'm having trouble rotating some of the pictures in Flickr... I'll try again when the computer decides to be cooperative.

Went to Ouidah on Sunday with Mathieu. My dreams of living the Motorcycle Diaries have been dashed! Sitting up straight on a motorcycle for 30-40 minutes is HARD! The trip home was non-stop and my ribs are KILLING ME! Not to mention I kept *almost* falling asleep on the back of the bike. (I've turned into my mother, able to fall asleep anywhere!!)

On the way there we stopped by the cemetary to visit Mathieu's dad, except he couldn't find the tomb because the cemetary has changed so much in the last few years since he's been... it's unbelievably crowded and over grown with shrubs, plants, weeds... the person who normally keeps the books wasn't there on Sunday, so we'll have to go back some other time. He says his sister knows where it is, so hopefully we can come back with her.


Took Mathieu to have lunch at the 'fancy' hotel in Oudiah, Casa del Papa. It's a nice hotel, but I haven't seen any of the rooms. I really should've asked. It seems like a pretty big complex, with rooms on the Lagune side and rooms on the ocean side, pools, conference centre, tennis courts, etc. (Sounds a lot like Cancun, doesn't it!)

He had the spaghetti carbonara, I had pasta with seafood. Pretty good, was really nice to have some alfredo sauce!! Worth the $30 for lunch just for the taste of alfredo! Water was 3x what we're used to paying. There was, on the 7 groups having lunch, 1 black family there. Mathieu recognized him as a politician. I think it was his birthday, as we were leaving I heard them singing "Joyeux anniversaire, joyeux anniversaire..."

One lady had her little ugly French dog with her. The kind where their hair is way too long and if you're not careful you might step on it. It kept chasing after the lizards.

Mostly French-from-France people from what I could tell. A cute little blond boy collecting sea shells and singing to himself. Apparently a lot of people who live in Benin come spend the weekends there.

The most impressive thing about the beach in Ouidah are the palms trees. They line the beach for miles and miles... Mathieu says that at one point the king of the region commissioned their planting. They are all lined up. Not sure how long they've been this way, they're huge!


Drank some local brew on the way there (made out of Mil?)...


bought some local cheese on the way home. I love the cheese here. They fry it and put it in with the peanut sauce... YUM. Can't wait to fry it myself at home.

TONS of crabs running around the beach in Ouidah! TONS! So fun to see them scuttling about, and watching Mathieu run after them in the hopes of grabbing one.

No success.
Pics tomorrow?
Your breath is bated, I'm sure.

So Much to Say

I have so much to write about I don't know where to begin. Too much even. I hope things start to become "normal" soon... it's all so inspiring/crazy and I want to tell you everything!

First I guess I'll write about what's most on my mind: the fact that I'm really going to have to find new friends. At first it was cute that both Roger and Ludvert were so smitten, but now it's very annoying and tiresome and puts me ill-at-ease. Despite trying to be nice and even not-so-nice about the fact that I am NOT the love of their lives and indeed not even attracted to them, they persist and insist and it's getting to be too much. I guess they think I need convincing? What I need is to get away from them!

It's a real shame though, Lud's cousin invited me to attend a voodoo funeral (his wife's 95 year-old father died... 95 year old FATHER? She can't be more than 30...) and Cérémonie des revenants (a ceremony where the dead come back to life). Apparently the father was really high up in the voodoo priest world, so it will be quite the party, but I can't imagine having to spend an entire weekend with Lud and his family bugging me to make beninese babies with him. There's nothing worse than a guy you're not attracted to trying to be possessive of you around his friends and family. Gross!!

So I guess I'm gonna have to go back to the friend drawing-board. I'm trying to think of opportunities where I could meet some cool and fun people. In Toronto I met a lot of friends clubbing, so perhaps there would be the same opportunity here. I also hope to catch some concerts or art shows. I'll have to ask if there's any college newspapers to find some student art shows or something. Maybe some theatre. Again, going places when there are no street names is hard. I have to depend on people to get around and it's pretty frustrating. I need to buy a map of Cotonou!

I have no choice but to be patient and hope things will just work themselves out. I've only been here 2 weeks and it feels like I've been here forever.

So, otherwise, my weekend was jam packed with crazy experiences. I'M IN AFRICA!!! and sometimes it's unbelievably surreal.

Friday, I went with my colleague Jean and his best friend Max to their hometown of Bohicon and Abomey. They said they wanted to take me to do a little tourism. What they didn't tell me was that we were in fact going to visit a bunch of their friends and family and that they were going to their hometown to attend a party at a funeral -- this omission almost made me cry when we arrived at the party and everyone was all dressed up. I was wearing a tank top and a pair of jeans!! I was SO MAD. I couldn't believe they didn't tell me we'd be going to an event like this. I scolded my colleague for not telling me and tried to hold back my tears. Everything is intense here and my eyes well up at the smallest thing.

They kept assuring me that what I was wearing was fine. Apparently white people can get away with wearing whatever they want, but I felt so rude and disrespectful - I wanted to hide in the car. I could just imagine my grandma looking down on me from above being ashamed of her granddaughter showing up to a funeral dressed inappropriately.

I'm not sure if it's because I'm a girl or if it's because I'm a guest that they don't tell me anything, but it's getting frustrating. The men keep taking me places without saying where we're going, or keep making pit-stops without saying that we're making pit stops. So I think we're going to one place and we end up in another, and suddenly I'm meeting entire families of people with no time to prep my brain for what I'm about to encounter. It's very disconcerting. And when I ask where we're going or what we're doing, they act as if I don't need to know and that it's funny that I'm even asking. Don't I trust them?

It's not a question of trust, dumb ass, it's a question of MAKING ME FEEL COMFORTABLE. I'm in a new country, far from everything I know. I don't have a clue what's going on half the time, and the other half of the time they're speaking Fon and then I really don't have a clue. So I guess I don't have a clue 100% of the time. Bah!

They just go with the flow here, so pit-stops and deviations from the original plan occur often without anyone seeming to mind. It's amazing anything gets done.

So I barely got to do any tourism. A highlite of my trip was my colleague's friend Eric (hilarious dude who kept singing along to the tunes and telling me what they meant; he reminded me of Jayski because of his sense of humour and his belly, but less scrapey! And he didn't hit on me, except jokingly, which was great!) who came out of his hotel room in the morning wearing his boxers and a white tank top, drinking a glass of whiskey (the men here drink ALL the time - drinking and driving is not an issue, it's pretty scary). I told him jokingly/not jokingly to put some pants on, but he didn't. Then later when he asked me why I didn't hang out with them while they were drinking, I said it was because he wasn't wearing any pants. He got all dressed up in traditional clothes for the funeral (not that I knew until we got there that that's why everyone was so dressed up) and he looked very dapper.


For lunch we went to Max's aunt's house. She made pâte with a veggie/fish/fried cheese sauce.

I ate with my fingers! It was delish and his aunt was very nice.

I also met this amazingly nice woman named Elizabeth. She was so kind and hugged me like we had known each other forever. At the funeral party she had a little bundle strapped to her back, the granddaughter of the lady who had died, apparently. She had this great big headdress too. I wanted to ask her how she got it to stand up like that, but I barely saw her at the funeral. Hopefully I'll get another chance to see her. I didn't get her picture.

At the funeral party, everyone was eating and talking and drinking -- just like Italians in a church basement. Except at one point all the women in this one section broke into song. I wasn't sure why and didn't ask, but it was really cool.

I asked to use the bathroom and the girl brought me to a bedroom that had a bathroom off the side. There was no door to the bathroom and the toilet had no seat (the toilets never have seats, if there's a toilet at all), and I just couldn't go. Never mind that a lady walked in when I was trying to go.

The kids are always so fascinated by me. Yovo! Yovo! I had my big round sunglasses on, and this little boy at the funeral party was staring at me, so I smiled at him and pulled my sunglasses down and winked. He freaked out and went to tell his friends, and when he came back I did it again. He was so excited, it was adorable.

Did a wee bit of tourism I suppose. We did stop to see the statue of one of the great kings of Abomey. He refused to sign a treaty with the French saying that it compromised his people's independance. They say he was a huge man and the statue certainly shows that he was massive. I realized that there are very few statues of black people, that I'm aware of.


The roads here are brutal. There are so many potholes! And where the roads are new, there are tons of speed bumps -- way too many. So many in fact that my colleague's muffler fell off in Bohicon. I got to experience a Beninese mechanic shop! The work progressed slowly and everytime we came back to see if he was done, the mechanic needed some money to buy another part. Imagine: show up at the repair shop, and when you come back, the mechanic says, I have to buy this part, but you need to give me the money so I can go buy it.

And of course there are roosters and chickens walking around.


The drive back was long, and we kept stopping, because apparently that's what the Beninese do. There are ladies selling fruit, nuts, anything and everything along the side of the road in certain areas. When we got to Allada we stopped and the ladies rushed our car selling pineapples, bananas, plantains, nuts...

It's really amazing what they manage to carry on their heads. Even the children carry really heavy loads on their heads. I didn't realize our heads were so strong!!

I bought some peanuts and my friends warned me that peanuts give you zits. I wonder if their nuts are much oilier than ours and I guess we'll see. They're really good. Wish they made peanut butter!

They were also selling these little snack-bags of boiled corn and boiled peanuts!! Boiled peanuts are delicious!! Apparently you just boil them in some salt water until they're a little soft and then allow them to cool down... delicious!

When the boys were finished with their shopping we continued to make our way back to Cotonou. We stopped at a bar where one of the children saw me and put his hand out like he was begging for change. Another saw the little red ball I have on my bag and said, "cadeau?" (present?). I'd never seen the children beg before. To be fair, the boy who was begging for change looked like he was immitating something he had seen someone else do, to see if it would work. He didn't look very sure of himself. I didn't give him any change, even if 10 cents would have meant the world to him. I'm not sure what I should do in those circumstances. I'm very torn.

In Cotonou the children are more used to seeing the occasional white person and those who live along the beach will ask for a 100 francs or a gift, "Yovo! 100 Francs?" "Yovo! Cadeau!". But it's certainly not the norm and the children are mostly just excited to see me.

It's really hard to see some of the poorer children. At the bar on the road back from Allada, there was a set of twin boys hanging around, fascinated by me. They must've been 6 or 7 years old. They were adorable and had beautiful smiles, but skinny with big bellies and with the belly button sticking out. The only thing they had on was underwear, dirty from them sitting around.

Everything's covered in red earth and dust. The mother in me wanted to take them home with me and get them some clothes, some shoes, some food and a bath. I took their picture and pray that they will be fine.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, making our way back to Cotonou in the dust. They're rebuilding the highway near Cotonou and the traffic is ridiculous. Some lanes are blocked off, some aren't, and it's basically a free-for-all. The car windshield was so covered in dust we could barely see out of it, and we had no fluid to wash it off!

Apparently they started the construction of the road before making sure they had all their financing in order, so the work has stopped.

I have so much more to talk about... but this is already ridiculously long. More tomorrow.