Love by any other names...

I easily get attached to people, when their spirit is compatible with mine.



I've fallen in love with ALL the women in my familly here. My grandmother, my aunts (Tadah Chris and aunty Rach) and my cousin Marlène. These women are so wonderful, each in their own ways...



Gran is this 70 year old woman who has lived several lifetimes... She's so full of stories, anecdotes experience... she's soft and lovely, knows how to show respect and definately has a heart of gold, she is patient, unassuming, beautiful, with the colour of old yellow lemons, the envie of MANY (think skin bleached women lol).
She has seen a LOT, lived through the death of her first child and other heartbreaks, but she stayed strong and giving, an unwavering faith in God, and though she isn't 'charismatic' nothing can shake her trust in God and His perfect ways.



Tadah Chris... She is this very youthful and beautiful woman. She reminds me of myself, we are very similar, whether she knows it or not. She is the artsy type, open minded, full of admiration for what I like, poetry, Jazz, travelling... I like her youth, she's wise and mature, but has innocent and simple fun, at no-ones expense. She's a firm believer in equality and DOES NOT recoil at the though of persecution for what she believes in. She's self-made and quite succesful, and though she enjoys life, she is the most down to earth woman, simply BEAUTIFUL. She's around 50 but reall?... she's 25 and familly oriented.



Aunty Rach (Rachelle)

She's Marlène's mum. A real force of nature, a fighter, a joker... She's an inspiration to all those who have been told: You can't. She's a fashion designer, quite succesful here, and I remember when she started... a LONG while ago. I admire her and get really exited whenever she comes to visit.
She has a VERY contagious laughter and is larger than life. I was a bit afraind oh her at first, felt like could hurt my sensibility by her frankness and direct ways, but if you're straight with her, she is the most wonderful ally!... And I'm straight :)

Marlène...
she's one of those rare ladies who wears her heart on her sleeves. She accepted me and stood by me, although she BARELY knew me. She is a wonderful mother, young at heart full of life, simple and down to earth. She is strong but knows kindness like it was a next of kin. I really like her, REALLY, she's warm hearted and I enjoy her company. She's fun and funny, without the "extraness" of it, you know the intelligent-snobish remarks... She doesn't mind my "europeaness" and my ignorance about the way things are dones here, she tells me simply, what is acceptable, what isn't, the weird things that happen on a daily basis... She LOVES my amazement at how precarious things can be here, even for those better of financially.

I love these women. They all inspire me. Feels like God has been kind to me and has added to my mother and her mother's wisdom, that of the women on my father's side.

Ouidah Trip (Slave Route...)

I went to Ouidah (historical city) in Benin. Unfortunately, ALL my photos have been wiped out from my memory card. It sucks, but we live and move on.



Ouidah... the road was parallel and running alongside the sea. Beautiful. I saw skme fishermen at work and their wives working on the fishnets, a real community, they were all smiles... Some children were using dried up palm leaves to make brooms, the african type.
The road was an hour long but ever so enjoyable, with all its bumps and water pools.
Ouidah itself is full of touristic resorts.
We went to Casa Del Papa. You know the places you see on travel prospectuses? The EXACT same thing, MAN! The beaches were a lovely shad of blue an the sand was WHITE very fine soft, like a middle east carpet. I loved walking bare feet, eating on the porch, listening to the waves... the sparse palm trees were a welcomed shade, it was truly warm on that day.

During the day we left the resort and I looked at part of the slave route, looked at the place were humans were stocked before parting. I didn't go inside but I shook inside a little. This side of history, that I know inside out, became real in my heart. I know in my head all there wis to know about slavery and colonialism, but being there, seeing the place of doom for many, a long time ago, brought it home. I began to see and imagine the ordinary faces I saw there, as poentials forhuman trade, including me.
The place is touristic attracion now, they sell wonderfl art in front of it, the memorial is grand and very beautiful, an arc and some greek columms it's a thing... I MUST reurn to one day to take pictures of.
There's another site a bit further on, that has a wall, with the map of Benin hollowed in it, all colours and paintings, very nice too, but the thing that's in my mind is the door... of no return, the bit tht made it all sink in for me...
That for me is Ouidah.

Calavi

I went to Abomey Calavi, for my step grandmother's birthday.

It was nice to step away from Cotonou and discover something a little more rural. In Calavi, the earth is red. Dusty but smooth, even when you leave the main road.
It took my aunt Lola, my sisters and I about one hour to get there. The journey was nice, it felt like a road trip to the countryside.
Life seems a lot more village like, but it's not a village.
The birthday celebration was nice, I didn't eat the food, I didn't like the look of it, and to be honest, the hygienic standards had to be checked. Not being arrogant or anything but I do have to look after my gut, my anti-bodies are not that tough yet.
I don't know if they felt offended that I didn't eat, or if they thought I was a stuck up Afro-pean. I hope not, but it doesn't matter, my bowels come first.

My dad was there, presenting me like a trophy child to everyone, it was slightly unerving, but after talking to a close friend (and personal guide) I realised that he was proud to have me around, and liked to show off. I know the feeling :)

The women gathered up together at some point, in a circle, and danced some traditional dances.
Impressive, they looked nice and belonged to the surroundings.
There was a marquee of fortune that we sat under, near chickens running free, half naked children, low wooden stools, earthen stoves... it was a nice atmosphere.
Loads of flies though, I could barely leave my drink alone...

The experince was pretty fun, I really want to go back and take more pictures in red earth and green settings.
When (if ever) I go back, I want my special guide to take me. Things will be that much more beautiful and interesting ;)

Cotonou By Night.

I've met some amazing people, through my cousin Marlène. We decided to go out one week-end, at night, to some beautiful places in town.

We went to a really cool restaurant on the beach, at night it seemed magical. The waves crashing on shore, the candle light atmosphere, the arranged garden we were in... VERY beautiful and soothing.
We played a game: "What is your favourite" Memory, present etc...
It was nice to discover what people usually held dear. As expected it was the things that came free in life, that always came out to be the most important.

Here, I've noticed that CREAM ( Cash Runs Everything Around Me) rules, there is so much poverty, that to live a decent life, you need quite a lot. I understand the dynamics of that, but being me, in love with all things simple and meaningful, money is just a tool for me. It is not the most important thing, and is only there to make already fulfilled lives better.

Cotonou is beautiful at night, the town comes alive, lights everywhere, people sell food and other things by the side of the road, and there are so many 2 wheel-taxis (zemidjans).
It's nice to just drive around and see how life unfolds, how people go about there businesses, smiles, frowns, transactions.
And I'm discovering all this with amazing people, who have become friends of old, in an instant.
On one of these week-end outings, I got dropped home late, so late that everyone at home was asleep, and no one picked up their phones to come and open the door. Marlène's friend stayed with me, waiting talking trying to find a solution. It was genuine friendship even if we barely knew each other.
People here are cool, the one's I've met are not self-centered, if it's my problem, it's also theirs.
I like.

Dantokpa (Lock Woman)

Dantokpa is for the thick skinned. First, it is VERY big, with several different areas and lil alleys. It's easy to get lost.
I went with my stepmum and another aunty. I was mainly looking for waist beads (I have a thing for them)
We found them and my stepmum haggled for a tiny lil while, not much to argue about, the price was already low...
People walk pass you and bump into you, wandering sellers come right up to you and are genetically modified to not take NO for an answer, some people beg for money, after they see you buy something, and a lot of the women at their stalls are either lethargic or agressive. Most wear a top and an african cloth... They either look tired or agitated when they sell alone, but when you find two or three people selling, they are smiles all around and jokes... I guess the more the merrier huh? The guys pushing the "pousse-pousses" (2 wheeled carts) are dangerous, they can go over your foot without a second thought and their carts are usually heavily loaded.


We went somewhere else after, still in 'tokpa. It was in a building, which I recognised from my vague memories of Benin.
There was a woman selling african art in one of the many narrow alleys. I naturally stoped. For half an hour! Choosing what I wanted took a while, haggling took WAY more. My stepmom did it all, in "Fon" (her language). It would have cost us 11000 Francs CFA, it ended up costing 7000. Hats off to her!
I think every stall around us must have seen how long we spent there and guessed I was "foreign", I tried not to look incongruous, and blend in with a blasé air. Didn't work, they grabbed my arms as I walked past and didn't let go, they held me back against my will, trying to sell gold or cloth or even skin bleaching things! (the INSULT).
The guys were the scariest, they'd stand right in front and wouldn't move until my stepmum would intervene, they'd call me "LOCK WOMAN" and talk in what I guessed to be pidgin english... The alleys were too narrow to go around them politely, so I had to endure the same thing at every stall until we were far from the place we stoped. I guess people there, hadn't seen me buy half of the african art woman's stock.

I didn't like being touched so much, my arms felt violated, but we left the place alive and whole, it was fun actually, despite it all, it was very alive, and I admired the way people did business, living their lives, best they knew how... it was a nice invitation into ordinary beninese people's world.

Nada.

Not sure what to write about... But feel the need to.

This place feels more and more hostile. All I hear is how bad the country is, politicaly economicaly etc... bandits and gangsters, diseases, con artists, polygamous men and grougar women, nigerian invaders etc...



I wonder, hearing all these stories, why anybody who can leave, still lives here.

I've politely been asked by my father not to consider living here, and yet... this place is so welcoming! Familly, even with little money, is still THE place to find comfort in. Tensions and difference of opinions may arise, but after all, it beats loneliness, I'm sure.

And yet could I ever allow myself to live far from England? The place of birth of the woman I am? The poet!!?

I wonder how people resolve their love and hate relation with the land, wonder how I would? if life took me back here for good.

This entry is just food for my thoughts.

Beautiful like a Beninese sunset...

Name for me these african natives,
Beautiful like a Beninese sunset...

I had missed the flowers of this place.
The difference with which they bloom,
Their colours and the perfume they exhume:
Oranges and purples...
Petals of a cool blue shade,
With strokes of live yellows
At the center.
Name for me these african natives.

Beautiful like a Beninese sunset...

Trees and bushes bursting
With wild flowers, Aloe Vera plants
Brushing themselves agaisnt
Wall climbing greens,
Midnight Moon Daisies emerging shyly
From an ocean of thorns...
Palms and coconuts resting safely
In the nest of their mothers,
While their feather-like leaves,
Sway gently in the wind:
The cool breeze flying from over the sea...
Name for me these african natives.