Beginning the journey east... March 2007

Tuesday, March 6th...Well it's over. I can hardly believe it! But yesterday morning I took my pack and walked out of dusty Besease and away from the children for the last time. It was hard to leave the children, especially the young ones who I built such a bond with. It is a strange feeling to spend such intense time with them and then to walk away, knowing that I probably will never see these children again. And having to accept that - that this is the nature of 'development' work. Of course I will never forget them, and I will never forget my time in Besease and the lessons I learnt there. I think for the children it is easier, they are used to volunteers who come and go, bringing presents and promises and the tastes of a better life enjoyed by those lucky enough to be born in foreign continents and into foreign lives. Of course it is never easy though and they begged me to stay "just another month, until another volunteer comes". It was sad to say goodbye. I think that they will remember me mostly for the little coloured stars that Mum sent though!! They would line up outside my door or my window in the morning saying "Luisa, please, stars!!" and I would fill little cupped hands with piles of shiny stars which were stored deep in lint filled pockets to brandish on the playground to envious peers. As I left I threw handfuls of stars over them and blew kisses and fought back the tears pricking the corners of my eyes. It was a sad and reflective journey east. I am now in Hohoe, near the border with Togo. Last night I arrived and met up with Hedy and Marie (a Swiss volunteer) - early tomorrow morning we will cross the border to Togo. Today is Ghana's independence day, there are big celebrations across the country as people cheer "Free Forever! Ghana is free forever!". Although to me it seems empty somehow, because Ghana is not really 'free', it is colonised in another form, the pseudo colonisation of trade restrictions and political impositions by countries like the UK and the US and those who control the World Bank and the IMF and the other institutions that Ghana has taken massive loans with, complete with massive strings. In saying that are any of us really free though? Is any country truly free or instead are we bound together with our mutual economic dependence? Perhaps none of us are free, but I would suggest that these poor west African states are the least free of all. It is nice to see the celebrations though and patriotism is running high with bright flags flying, cars tooting their horns and children marching in the streets.

Sunday, March 11...

Bonjour du la Republique Beninese!!!!

So much time has passed and so much has happened since I began the above email... We are now in Porto Novo, the capital city of Benin... I can scarcely believe we are here already, but I will begin the story at the beginning... and apologise for the typing as I am using a French keyboard with the keys all in different places!!

We left from Hohoe early on Wednesday morning, arriving at the tro tro station at 7am only to wait five hours for the tro tro (this time the most wonderful old PK blue ute from the 60's!) to fill up! We passed the time by helping the workers shout "Kpalime, Kpalime, Bra bra, tem tem!!" (Come come quick!) The ute finally pulled out of the station complete with 16 passengers all crammed in like sardines and our luggage piled high on the roof, along with tires, sacks filled with yam and bunches of plantain, all held on with a big net - we were off to face the border!! The drive towards the border was amazing - the hills that line the edge of Ghana are incredibly green and lush - we peered out the back window of the ute drinking it all in and buzzing with excitment about what our journey into Togo would bring... unfortunately when we reqched the border we were turned back by the control guards as Marie and Hedy didn't have pre-purchased visas and so we had to take our packs, farewell our fellow passengers and walk back to the main road to begin the journey down to Aflao were we could cross the main border - by 5pm that evening we had crossed to Togo and were only bribed once for 1000CFA which was much better than we had expected. After a brief stop in Lome to change money we drove straight to the town Agbodrafo, nestled on the shores of Lake Togo and about two thirds of the way across the country (taking about an hour to drive there - Togo is a very small country!). When we arrived at the lodge it appeared deserted with the lights all out and only the gentle lapping of the lake audible, it was so dark and quiet, eerily so, but after locating the manager we settled down to sleep and when we awoke we were greeted by the most beautiful view! The lake was huge and so calm, fishermen were dotted all over its surface in their traditional wooden pirogues fishing with nets and collecting crabs from the shore line. Everyone spoke French very well and they speak French to each other rqther than their traditional African dialect which was such a difference to Ghana were English is spoken reluctantly over their traditional dialects! We arranged a pirogue ride over the lake to Togoville, the founding village in Togo and the home of Togolese animism. The pirogue ride was beautiful but we kept commenting on how deserted everything felt, there were no tourists, no volunteers, in fact we were the only guests in the entire 'auberge' and it didn't appear that they ever had guests... after we crossed the lake we were met by a guide at the shore who led us around Togoville, pointing out various fetish shrines and showing us the old areas where the slaves were held - it was a lovely small village and the people were very friendly - it looked amazingly different from Ghana, with many more palm trees and the people appearing very different in their stature and facial features (much thinner and with higher cheekbones). After a few hours we returned to the shore to catch the pirogue back to the auberge on the other side of the lake; by this time the wind had picked up quite substantially and the calm lake was disturbed with white crested waves, we clambered back into the wooden boat, children running out into the water with us and diving and splashing at the helm of the boat - the children ran out after the boat, their beautiful dark bodies clearly visible jumping in the water and waving us goodbye as we journeyed out further onto the lake. After a few hundred metres it became apparent that the boat was taking on a substantial amount of water, both through cracks in the hull and from waves splashing over the sides. As we passed over an area called "Hippopotamus Hole" (the deepest part of the lake previously home to hippopotami) the gondolier passed me a calabash and I began to scoop the water from the bottom of the boat!! It was hard work and an endless task as the water continued to come into the boat but it was an amazing and empowering feeling - bailing water from a pirogue on Lake Togo, how far I had come and how free I am, and indeed how free we all are! Once we had reached calmer waters the gondolier bezgan to speak with us (in French - I am kucky to be with Marie and Hedy, both fluent) about his life in Togo. Togo is controlled by an autocrat who seized power following his despot father's death - Togo has been rife with corruption and coups for 20 years now and riots in Lome two yeqrs qgo resulted in 500 civilian deaths; as a result educated people from the cities hqve fled to the villages to live lives as simple fishermen and farmers in poverty but relative safety from the dangers held in the lawless cities. The gondolier had fled from Lome, "if you become too vocal, too political or it is known that you are opposed to the regime then they will come and take you from your home" the gondolier said "the police will take you and drag you away to kill you". And so nobody speaks a word of opposition, it is a country ruled in fear. We thanked the gondolier repetitively for having the courage to tell us these painful truths and gqve hi, some money to help him in his life. Back at the lodge we began to realise why the counbtry seemed so deserted and why Lome appeared like a cowboy town from the wild west...

The next day we caught a taxi to Aneho, a beach town on the border with Benin, and here our suspicions about Togo were all confirmed. The day was incredibly hot, after walking about the town in the morning we had to spend the afternoon lying on the concrete floor of the motel to cool our overheated and exhausted bodies. Again we were the only guests in the entire hotel and saw no other foreigners anywhere in the town. Aneho appeared very nice, although very sandy, with no shade and the stores seemed all to be very empty, the supermarket had little more than some old bottles of wine, cans of tuna and an empty battery box! At about 6.30 we decided to walk down the main road to buy street food for dinner (all the chop bars were empty) - we had a nice dinner of rice and beans sitting next to an empty train track and began to wander back to the hotel when a man ran up to Hedy and grabbed her bag - she screamed and held tight onto her bag but the man pulled at it so hard that the material ripped from the strap and the man sprinted down an alley toward the dark beach, we were all screaming "THIEF THIEF!!" as loud as we could, to alert the locals to the danger but noone seemed to do anything for what seemed like the longest time! People approached us after about 30 seconds and we communicated what had happened, Hedy was now in complete shock and we managed to get back to the hotel where we asked the clerk to call the police - we were told "there is no point; the police will not do anything". "No matter" we said, "please call them anyway". Eventually a policeman arrived in an old beat up red toyota, he was not wearing a uniform but the clerk seemed to know him so we went with him to the police station. "The police station actually no longer exists" the man told us, "some rioters tore it down last year so we work from the gendarmerie near the border". The night got stranger and stranger. When we arrived at a big crumbling stone building we were told this is the gendarmerie (and quickly thought of an escape route in case it wasn't), we went inside and after Hedy bribed the officer CFA6000 he agreed to write an attestation about the robbery so that she could at least use it to claim insurance for the stolen camera, cellphone, money and memory cards. It was a long night and we all felt very shaken. A woman at the hotel told us we were very lucky, "Usually they'll slit your throats to take your money" she said "never go out at night in Togo". At 8am the next morning we left for the border, grateful to be leaving and grateful that it was only material objects that had been taken. Now we realised why there were no tourists in Togo...!

The border crossing to Benin was very smooth, 'no man's land' filled with market sellers with huge piles of produce, fruits and vegetables, watches and sunglasses and men selling every currency under the sun 'for a price' where we were forced to change money at appalling low rates and in doing so support the black market of currency trading! Rife all over West Africa and the majority of which is Algerian currency??

As we drove from the border to Ouidah, another coastal town, we felt hesitant, all promising each other that from now on we would be more careful, and if anything else happened like that we would leave. We needn't have worried as Ouidah was the most wonderful place, with many French tourists and the most wonderful energy to it!! Benin is amazing, the French influence is so strong here - the streets are paved, the sewers underground, trees grow alongside the roads and everywhere there are French bread sellers and vegetable sellers, and voodoo fetish shrines!!!! Of course the country is still very poor and in the northern region and in small villages people meek out a hard existence but how wonderful what we have seen has been!! We visited the Route de Esclaves where tens of thousands of slaves were marched in chains to waiting slaver ships en route to America or Europe. It was haunting and sad and I could feel the linear sense of chained beings marching to the sea in fear: a monument marking the Point of No Return stood on the beach, wonderfully African in design and so fitting. Ouidah is filled with zemi_johns, old Yamaha motorbikes which zoom around (no helmets) to transport all manner of things and people (sometimes four on one bike!!).

Being in Benin is like being in some strange parralell universe, a hybrid between Africa, Frqnce, Brazil and some sort of mystical other world where spirits are real and honoured. We have already seen many voodoo priests and egunguns who walk the streets in brilliant dress to communicqte the spirits to the living. It is truly incredible!! Last night we sat out till late in the night at the hotel and listened to the most inspiring African tribal music and watched the people dancing in the street; their bodies tqken over with the power of the music, compelled to dance and so breathtaking in doing so...

The time on the computer is about up so I must rush the end of this email but there is so much more to say about our wanderings into Benin - I will write again soon. After a fez days we will head north; to Abomey and then onto the northern territories; home of the incredible Somba people...