Riding to Benin
Hi BoBers,
After Lomé, I had an impromptu stay with Caroline’s friend Jean-Christophe in Aného, close to the border with Benin. I was originally just stopping by for a drink, but he was such an endless fountain of facts that I asked if I could stay the night. He’s been a consultant in the region for many years, mostly with breweries, and had a lot to say about everything from local politics to relationships to 60’s rock and roll. A very intelligent guy.
The rest of the ride to the festival in Ouidah was largely uneventful for a change. I managed to get myself lost, was redirected by some kids and subsequently chastised by a local leader for not having a guide and not introducing myself to the local authorities. He insisted that the local area was full of terrorists. Then, realising the implication about his leadership abilities, insisted that it was very safe despite the rampant terrorism. I meet big men like him quite often. The best thing to do is just smile, nod and fake a very infectious illness as soon as possible.
I arrived in Ouidah still feeling a little socially overwhelmed. The single night of solitude while camping hadn’t fully scratched my hermit’s itch. Unfortunately, Ouidah’s accomodation had long since been booked out for the festival. I had no plan at all about where I would stay, but was sure I would find somewhere to put my tent. Thankfully, Caroline organised a connection with someone in Ouidah. In fact it was her friend’s son’s friend’s nephew, so all in all my friend’s aunt’s friend’s friend’s son’s friend’s nephew. It’s crazy how far I’ve come with such loose connections.
Things got a little weird from there. Expecting just a little help finding a camp spot, I found out that, without informing me, the son had come all the way from Cotonou to guide me through the festival for the next few days. Originally, I found this very sweet, if a little forward and slightly restrictive, but later his uncle, who’d organised the whole thing arrived to talk, clearly drunk. Conversation came relatively quickly to compensation for the family, with the nephew looking on timidly in the background. Checkmate. In the end, I paid. Probably too much. This deliberate mixing of relationships and money is something I really detest, but I didn’t have much choice.
I sweated myself to sleep on my sleeping mat, excited about the first day of the festival.
Excitedly,
J&BoB
