Whirlwind adventure in Benin, and "au revoir" to West Africa

Continuing my recap...

Friday, Aug 28-Saturday, Aug 29: Benin in a whirlwind
Benin is another francophone country to the east of Togo that is a bit larger than Togo. Since it’s so easy to get to Benin from Togo, I really wanted to check it out even for a couple days, just to catch a glimpse of another country in West Africa. We didn’t have Benin visas and couldn’t get them at the consulate the day before, and had also heard that they were very reluctant to give temporary tourist visas at the border. So the plan was to go to the Benin border (which is only an hour drive from Lomé, hence it only takes one hour to drive along the entire Togo coast) and try to get visas, and if they refused to give them to us, we’d just hang out in eastern Togo.
We hopped into a very squishy shared taxi (a regular sedan size car, but takes 4 people in the back and 2 people in the front passenger seat) to get to the Benin border. Once there, we went through some slow customs (sitting down with a customs agent as he slowly takes down all of your information by hand) on the Togo and Benin side, and then finally they asked us for our visas. I explained that we did not have visas but that I had read in all the guide books that you could get a 48-hour visa at the border (true) and that the Benin consulate in Lomé had also confirmed this (false, they told me that you could only get one if you had already visited Benin before, which we hadn’t). The customs guys thought it over for a few minutes, then decided to give us the temporary visas, which are about $20 each. Success!
We then hopped in another shared taxi to get to the very busy city of Cotonou (you can buy other seats on a shared taxi so that you don’t have to squish with other people in ways that these cars were not made for), and once there we were supposed to head to another station in the city to get another shared ride to a jetty north of Cotonou so that we could go to Ganvié, a stilt village on a lake. When we reached the Cotonou area, the taxi driver ended up dropping us off in a random spot in the city after I explained we were going to Ganvié because apparently it was in the other direction than the way he was going. So, sort of stranded on a busy freeway, Eric flagged down a shared taxi that was headed towards the jetty. This taxi ended up dropping us off way past the jetty and not giving us change for the ride, and stranded again, a nice lady directed us to hop on zemidjans (taxi motorbikes) to get to the jetty. I have refused to take a zemidjan all summer, which are abundant in Lomé and totally accident-prone, with the chaotic way that people sometimes drive around here. Well, there’s a first time for everything... I hopped on, shut my eyes as we weaved through traffic, and we made it down to the jetty in one piece.
At a little reception area, we bought our ride on a motorized pirogue to Ganvié, which is supposed to be the largest stilt village in Africa and was cleverly built long ago by a community escaping a warring tribe that would not enter water due to religious reasons. People have continued to live here on the water, with their fishing traps and floating markets, and now a pretty good tourist industry. What was not explained to me, or was lost in translation, about our overpriced pirogue ride was that the guide that was coming with us for the boat tour was not included in the price that we paid – and Ganvié quickly became one of those frustrating places where everyone is blatantly asking you to give them money. I basically explained to the guide that he could just sit there and not talk because we weren’t paying any more money.
Since it was getting late in the afternoon, I thought that we could stay at one of two hotels that are actually located in the stilt village. Sadly, the nicer one was closed due to a strike, so we stayed at the ‘interesting’ Expotel on stilts. Interesting because I thought it was really a neat experience to spend a night in this extraordinary village, but also interesting because we were the only guests here and it felt like we had been the only guests in a long time, and because there wasn’t a whole lot to do and everyone passing on a boat was asking us for money and our room was pretty rough and a bit smelly to say the least, with all kinds of clanging sounds from the wind and water throughout the night. We were able to buy a mankala board and played the whole evening until hitting the sack at about 8 pm. A rough sleep, but no regrets – a memorable hotel experience! We booked it pretty quickly in the morning, then made our way back to crazy Cotonou to get a westward ride to Grand Popo close to the Togo border.
Grand Popo was a nice place to slow down after going through the chaos of navigating our way through Cotonou and going out of our comfort zone in Ganvié. It’s a little peaceful town on the coast and a great place to unwind. We got dropped off at a junction in Grand Popo, after making friends with a Japanese passenger in our taxi, and took a half-hour walk to the Auberge de Grand Popo, a little inn and resort on the beach, where we got some lunch and hung out on the beach for a while. Then we hoofed it back to the junction and hitched a ride on another westward taxi to the Togo border where we hopped on another very squishy taxi back to Lomé, where we were again very relieved to return to feeling clean and using ‘normal’ toilets. I also had my last dinner at my beloved Greenfield’s restaurant down the street which I have enjoyed frequenting at least weekly all summer for the $1 glasses of delicious boxed wine and Tuesday movie nights.

Sunday, Aug 30-Monday Aug 31: au revoir Lomé
One more full day in Lomé to pack up all my stuff, get another messy but yummy Togolese lunch at William’s, and clean the apartment.
The next morning, I went over to the PNLS (national AIDS program) office to say my goodbyes to the super nice and welcoming people that I had worked with over the summer. It always stresses me out to do goodbyes, but they were short and sweet, and no waterworks on my side!
I then had my last plate of maquis (street stall) spaghetti and we took off to go through the Togo-Ghana border for my last time and say au revoir to Togo.
4.5 hours later, we were back in Accra to hang out and grab some more fufu and Ghanaian fare for a last time.

The next morning, Eric took off and is now safely back in Boston. I’ve been just enjoying some last indulgences in Accra before I leave myself, doing some shopping and getting a one-hour massage for $20! My flight takes off this evening, and I’ll reach London early tomorrow morning. I’m planning to escape Heathrow during my 10-hour layover to go into the city and explore for the first time (not including my voyage from the train station to Heathrow on the tube during Ireland-Hungary Disaster 2005), go for a nice walk, weather permitting, and grab some lunch.

Leaving West Africa is quite bittersweet. I had wanted to come volunteer in West Africa since the middle of college and I’m so happy I finally made it. From the small chunk that I have been able to experience, I have really been smitten by West Africa; it has been so enjoyable to explore different regions, see different ways of living, and learn a little more each day about how things work here, whether related to my volunteer work or just getting around the region, or how to properly eat in public or interact with people.
Despite the adventure being out of the comfort zone and a bit difficult at times, I must say that some of the random acts of kindness that I have seen here in West Africa are quite unparalleled in any other place I have visited before. Whether it is a fellow passenger offering you food on a tro-tro, or a complete stranger going completely out of their way to guide your taxi to your destination to make sure you get home safe, or a lady on the street arguing with a driver to make sure that he doesn’t charge you the obruni/yovo price for a ride to your hotel – the way that some people can be so welcoming has made such a difference. And all the children, so much fun…
I am also looking forward to going back to Boston and starting a new chapter, with no guaranteed timelines or plans for next steps, or job/grad school acceptance lined up yet, but some kitchen cabinets to install, cookies to bake, and a beautiful little Frenchie pug to look after.
I definitely hope to come back to West Africa again in the future, for work or travel, and return to Togo but also see more of the other countries in the region. I find there’s such a pleasant confidence that comes with returning to a familiar place, and still having more to explore.
:)