As I stepped out of the plane, the humid tropical climate of Cotonou overwhelmed my senses. Beads of sweat began to form on my forehead. Soon afterwards I would leave customs, unsuspectingly walking into the first challenge during my stay – my exchange manager was nowhere to be found. Within moments I was being bombarded by taxi drivers offering me a ride home. After I explained that I was waiting for a friend, one driver insisted that I use his phone to call him. I tried to explain to him that I did not have any money to repay him with, but he refused to acknowledge this and thrust the phone into my hands.
More than an hour and one sunrise later, I rose from my spot on the sidewalk beside a couple of taxi drivers and an airport security guard to greet my exchange manager. After a few moments of taking interest in speaking with me the other drivers had began to chat on their own, alternating between a local language and French, inviting me to sit with them even though they knew I couldn’t keep up. My exchange manager paid the man who lent me his phone, all the while apologizing about the mix up – internet has been down in Benin for the past few days, and he had thought I was arriving the next day. I was just relieved that he had come.
After a failed attempt at buying a cellphone, we headed back to the spacious volunteer house in Ouidah. After getting some sleep, we ran some errands and I met the mother of my host family who I will be moving in with tomorrow.
Benin is very colourful: from the bright local dress on the streets, to the pink toilet paper in my washroom. The situation in Benin however, as Jules explained back at the airport, is far from rosy. “The people of Benin are very poor,” he stressed, looking directly at me. “They need help”.
After a failed attempt at buying a cellphone, we headed back to the spacious volunteer house in Ouidah. After getting some sleep, we ran some errands and I met the mother of my host family who I will be moving in with tomorrow.
Benin is very colourful: from the bright local dress on the streets, to the pink toilet paper in my washroom. The situation in Benin however, as Jules explained back at the airport, is far from rosy. “The people of Benin are very poor,” he stressed, looking directly at me. “They need help”.
Later that night at the dinner table back at the volunteer house, I enjoy chilled pineapple as Jules works away at his self prepared authentic Cote D’Ivoire cuisine – fish in a delicious smelling sauce and boiled rice. He explains passionately how English speaking countries in Africa often receive foreign aid over French speaking countries, because more wealthy people speak English. It is a difficult situation in Benin, and there is lots for me to do, he says.
Tomorrow we will visit the orphanage to see what “lots” means.
r post pictures :)
its really nice how you get to see all these places
wish i was there : /
have fun