Sunday, March 23, 2014

Togo

Our trip to Togo was short, but sweet.  We got a late start out of Benin, but fortunately crossing the western border also meant a little time-travel as we gained an hour and reached the capital just after sunset.
 
Lomé is located on the coast and houses one of the most important ports of West Africa, with incoming goods making their way inland, as well as Ghana, Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger.  Our hosts in Benin suggested a place for us to stay in Lomé that seemed to fit our price-range and cleanliness-to-dirtiness threshold before we left too.  We had no idea of where La Bella was located so we called the owner shortly after crossing the border.  After talking for a few minutes, she quickly decided that the hotel would be simply too difficult for us to find on our own in the dark.  She graciously offered to taxi to a prominent and easily found club at the center of town and ride back with us to her place.  It turns out she was just as friendly and fun in person as over the phone.  Charismatic with an overly honest sense of humor, she had a smile on her face the entire ride back.  We didn’t get lost (which was a nice change of pace after our Contonou fiasco) and got to have some laughs along the way.  A good start to our brief sojourn in Togo.

The next day was our only full day in Togo. A crime, perhaps, but the once fluid schedule was beginning to solidify before our eyes as we started the back-half of the trip and with high hopes for Ghana and the daunting prospect of selling the Goose in Côte d’Ivoire still looming overhead, we needed to keep to a brisk pace.  Our first stop was the Musée International du Golfe de Guinée.  Our guidebook said that this museum housed sculptures and masks from all across Western Africa and it did not disappoint.  Honestly, it was a little overwhelming, with easily over a hundred works of art crammed into a few rooms.  While they were organized by types of art (first room was sculptures, the second jewelry, the third masks) I wish they would have been curated with a little more attention to chronology and origin.  Nevertheless, it was an impressive array of West Africa art, ranging from a giant Nimba statue from Guinea to ornate Ashanti gold-work from Ghana to some terrifying masks from Burkina Faso (or at least, terrifying to me).  Definitely worth checking out if you have the chance.

After that we split up for the rest of the afternoon.  While Clara and Michelle went in search of some new shoes and Togo’s fabled poisson braisé, Chris, Brittany and I continued on to see a church in downtown Lomé.  Although Togo officially speaks French today, the church was constructed before the German’s transferred ownership of Togoland to France and Britain in the early twentieth century.  Togoland was divided into two halves after that, right down the middle.  The western part would eventually become part of the British Gold Coast (and becoming Ghana a year later) while the eastern half remained under French influence, until their independence in the 1960.  The church was beautiful and in very good condition and it was great to see that it was still able to offer schooling to children in the area.

After a delicious western lunch, a re-televised soccer match and some air conditioning, we made for an open plaza and had a startling discovery, which was one of the most bizarre things we saw on our trip.  Kids taking rollerblading lessons!  First and foremost, I hope that I don’t sound like a naïve and condescending American.  Of course Togo has this kind of service available to kids as an after school activity in its capital city.  It is a relatively developed city with services that are able to cater to its upper class citizens.  But coming from Guinea, where there are about a million and one reasons why this would be impossible to replicate there, we just had to grin as the twenty or so kids were practicing drills with their instructor. 



After leaving the Hirondelles (swallows) to their practice we happened upon our next great discovery.  BUMPER CARS IN THE ADJACENT PARKING LOT.  Again, we were recently Returned Peace Corps Volunteers.  We valued having more authentic and less touristy adventures on this road trip.  But indulging in the little things, like ganging up and sandwiching your friend between two electrified carts, not only represented a fun way to end the afternoon, it was the beginning of our return home.  At least for me, this trip was my way of leaving West Africa on my own terms, at my own pace.  And as I write this post in my living room in Minnesota, I can say with certainty that things like this helped make the transition of coming back to the First World less jarring and overwhelming.  And come on.  Who doesn’t like bumper cars?



We met back up with Michelle and Clara at our rooms and had a much needed naptime - then went out in search of dinner.  After realizing that the restaurant we wanted to eat at was closed, we made serendipitous discovery number three.  A restaurant that served dinner on the cheap next to a park with a playground.  While our chicken and fries were being cooked up behind the Parc de Martyrs, we got back to basics and ran around that playground like it was 1994.  There was climbing, sliding, tackling and before dinner was served, showering - or at least we made do with some buckets of water and washed as much of the sand from our clothes and hair as possible. 

We tried to hit the bars after that and after walking the streets for a little bit, eventually arrived at an outdoor bar that served some pretty peculiar items.  The “bartender” was very proud of his concoctions and unfortunately unsolicited-ly served us some of his pretty horrible drinks.  The exact ingredients elude me, but I vaguely recall milk and poison-whiskey being involved and in proportions that would surprise you.   After some debate the night was concluded at the spot of our initial rendez-vous with our hostess, where we got our fix of dancing and Beyoncé.

All in all, not a bad day.


Chris (A)  

Trip stats:
  • Total time in car: 75 hours
  • Cheapest diesel: Benin (620 CFA/liter)
  • Most expensive diesel: Conakry/ Siguiri (9,500 GNF/liter)
  • Capitals visited: Conakry, Bamako, Ouagadougou, Contonou/ Porto-Novo, Lome
  • Number of doppelgangers sighted: 1 (Lebanese Sean Cochrane seen at Room, Conakry, Guinea, Fred B at Amadine, Bamako, Julie in car in Ouaga, Tosten at De Niros, Ouaga - again, we have continued to fail at getting photographic evidence)
  • Longest border crossing: 3 hours 30 minutes (Guinea - Mali)
  • Shortest border crossing: 1 hours 05 minutes (Benin-Togo)
  • Benin-Togo boarder crossing debrief (1 hour 5 minutes; 0 hours 5 minutes with time travel!):
    • Stop 1 (Benin) - Gendarmerie stop - present passport, drivers license and carte grise
    • Stop 2 (Togo) - Gendarme stop - purchase visa
    • Stop 3 (Togo) - Gendarmerie stop for vehicle registration
    • Stop 4 (Togo) - Short customs stop

Monday, March 10, 2014

Benin: Show Us Your Tatas

After a marathon day of driving by our very own Zachary Bachtell, we crossed the border into the North of Benin. From there, we drove along the border of Pendjari National Park until we got to a village right outside the entrance, where we would be staying the night. We had planned to be driving the Goose through the park to save on renting a car, but after seeing the road there, and loosing part of the car to the sands, we realized she might not make it through alive. Luckily, there was a 4x4 owning guide in the town that we could hire, Mr. Ibrahima. 

He came by bright and early the next morning so we could see some wildlife before they retreat from the afternoon sun. Unfortunately, no one had told us about the time change between Burkina Faso and Benin, so we were still fast asleep, thinking that the was an hour earlier. After a late start, we made it to the park, riding on top of the car with the wind in our hair. That morning we saw several species of antelope, crocodiles sunning on the sand, a big herd of buffalo, and elephants on their way to the watering hole. The elephants even waved at us Dumbo-style with their trunks. We took a short siesta as all the animals were doing the same and heading out again for the evening. We went to look for the lions, but only managed a glimpse before they jumped into the tall grass. That night, we played soccer under a single light bulb hung on a clothesline and slept under the stars. We woke before dawn to pack up and beat all the other cars to the lions. We found them lazing about in a clearing, a male and female, the smell of their recent kill on the breeze, much grosser than it sounds. We were only about 40 feet from them, each of us enjoying the cool of the morning. 

We left for Natitingou that afternoon, stopping in Tanguieta for some wagachi, a beninese specialty of fried cheese. (sidenote: we later had a wagachi eating contest and Chris M. won, eating 17 nugget sized pieces) In Natitingou, we went out for a dinner of antelope and Beninoise, the national beer. The next day we did a moto tour of the Tata Sombas, the castle-like mud houses built by the Tammari people of the North. Driving on our moto scooters down dirt roads, we were basically the Hells Angels of Benin. We spent the afternoon washing the layers of dust off at a nearby waterfall. It was then that one of the most important developments of the trip happened: we got our CD player to work, allowing us to listen to the wonderful sounds of Baha Men for weeks to come. 

Then we headed south to Cotonou, the biggest city in Benin. There we got to bask in the luxury of beer on tap (it was an IPA!), cold cuts, and nightly games of pool. We also had to say goodbye to a member of the gaggle, Molly (don't worry, we stayed away from oranges even after you left!) . We visited Ganvie, a village built completely on stilts over Lake Nokoué . Everyone, even children as young as 5, gets around by boat. One day we traveled the 40 km to Porto Novo, the capital, to visit the Songhai agricultural center. Started several decades ago by a Nigerian brother, it is a place where interns are trained in the most up to date permaculture methods and new techniques can be experimented. Also near Cotonou is Ouidah, one of the villages from which voodoo originated. The people of Ouidah practice fetishes rituals and build shrines to ancestors or other animist dieties to whom they regularly sacrifice chickens. There is also a python temple, full of hundreds of snakes, that is admittedly kind of a tourist trap. But we got to put pythons around our necks and take pictures, so totally worth it. 

We then visited the biggest part of departure for slaves coming from Benin, the same slaves who brought their culture with them to become what we call voodoo in the States. It has now become a "door of return", welcoming people of African heritage back in a sort of reverse diaspora. This was the first of several historical slavery points we would visit, and the first of many Brittany would nearly pass out at. 

And with that our visit to Cotonou, and Benin, was over. But here's some last things about our visit through the ancient Kingdom of Dahomey . 

Time spent in Benin: 9 days 
Lions seen: 3 
Wagachi eaten in total: an estimated 130 pieces (at 100 CFA a piece, that's about $26) 
Rounds of Pool Played: 19 
Zems (moto taxis) taken: 60 


Nems (spring rolls) eaten: 12 
Nems eaten on zems: 0 (still my biggest regret)

- Michelle