Guest Post: Anne's Visit

Ok, I’m slightly hesitant to say this, kind of in the same way that a local hates to spread the word about a favorite hole-in-the-wall hangout, in fear that it will become overrun with outsiders – but Eric is an amazing tour guide. Seriously. I mean, one’s first time in a third-world country can be kind of intimidating (apparently a 9th grade, church-sponsored Tijuana trip doesn’t count), and he did a great job of letting me get comfortable in the environment before forcing me to eat strange stuff or sacrifice puppies to the voodoo gods. Kidding! In fact, he let me eat nice, expensive food for the first couple days, and by the time we headed out of Cotonou, the most developed city in Benin, I was down to sample the more local cuisine. Along the same lines, when I arrived in Benin in the middle of a thunderstorm, he conceded to a taxi instead of pushing me straight off the plane onto the back of someone’s moto, bags in tow. In addition, just the amount of information he was able to share, whether he realizes it or not, was incredible – it was like having my own personal, relevant guidebook. I could point to anything and ask, what is that?! – and he would have the answer, usually along with some background info as well. It was awesome. I should also mention that every time I noticed a baby sheep, goat, dog, cat, or chicken, I would point it out to him in the most annoying and unashamedly girly manner, and he never complained.

So, from my own experience, here’s what the uninitiated visitor to Benin should know:
Transportation – As my athlete friends at UCLA may be able to attest to, I am not the best vespa passenger. I guess I just don’t trust them NOT to run into something. That said, the best way to get around cities in Benin is on a zemidjan, or zem, which is a motorbike taxi. However, after the first white-knuckled and slightly embarrassing ride, I started to enjoy them. For some reason, it was fairly easy to just sit back, hang on, and relax. I will admit that at times I had a running commentary going in my head, especially when approaching crowded and crazy intersections, a commentary that went something like “oohhh my goddddddd here we gooooo…” I hear that sometimes zems will take clueless foreigners to the beach, instead of their destination, to mug them, but Eric knows what’s up so if you’re with him you should be good. 
Taxis are used for intermediate distances, and they’re cars stuffed to the brim with people. Think a ’89 Peugeot sedan, cracked windshield, trunk held down with rope, loaded with cargo, with four people in the front and up to five or six in the back. Not the most comfortable way to travel, and a definite chance of losing circulation in your limbs. Now imagine it swerving around the huge potholes in the road, the ones big enough to lose a goat in, right into the path of oncoming traffic, only to swerve back at the last moment. This made me nervous. I think Eric sensed it, probably when I was gripping his shoulder like a preteen watching a scary movie, so he didn’t tell me until later that one of our taxis had, in fact, sort of hit a zem.
Buses, in comparison, were pretty luxurious. We took them to go up and down the length of the country, journeys that took a loooong time due to the condition of the roads. But – we had our own seats, a window with a breeze, and we weren’t pressed up against any strangers. No complaints there. 

I can’t say there is any food that I didn’t like, but that’s because even Eric didn’t have the heart to make me try gumbo, a substance that looks like green slime and which had supposedly caused another volunteer to be sick in a culturally insensitive way. Much of the street food consisted of some starchy, play-doh-y substance and an oily sauce, sometimes with chunks of meat or soy cheese, which is actually pretty damn good. Also, eating with your hands is surprisingly satisfying. On the more expensive side, I can tell you that antelope (and rabbit) with fries is marvelous, especially when paired with a beer and a view. Speaking of beer, they’re twice the normal size, and a quarter as expensive. If you go to Benin, you will drink a lot of beer, and it will make for some deliciously relaxing afternoons (and zem rides). As for local brews, try the chouk (spelling?), a millet beer, but be aware that sodabi tastes like gasoline and is rumored to make you go blind if consumed too readily. I was lucky enough to try it at the house of Eric’s supervisor at the health clinic, who was from the south, because I was told that the sodabi from the north is the stuff that’ll really mess you up. In fact, when Eric told people up north that he was going to make me try sodabi, they looked horrified; it gave me a lot of confidence. I feel pretty good about my culinary experience in Benin, because I have it straight from the mouth of a king that, yup, that’s pretty much all there is. Potential travelers to Benin should note that, had I not blithely ignored many of my travel doctor’s warnings, I wouldn’t have tried much of this stuff, and would have missed out on a lot. I even took a few defiant sips of tap water near the end of the trip. I’m still here.

Other important information: be prepared to be stared at, and yelled at by kids and sometimes adults. It’s good if you’re a bit of an attention whore. Be prepared also to discuter a lot, or bargain (argue) about prices. Not only is it just what people do there, but everyone will try to charge you more because you’re white. Eric is really good at holding his ground while discuter-ing, and I found that if you just stand quietly next to him while he’s in action, it works out. But try it for yourself, it can be extremely satisfying to steadfastly refuse to pay a full ten dollars for a necklace. Outrageous! 

Honestly, there’s a ton I could write about (such as, good lord, actual places we went? Eric can do that), but this post is embarrassingly long already so I’m going to sign off. Final thoughts: if you don’t mind your travel methods sometimes being daunting, are not a picky eater, don’t mind having dirty feet and sweet tan lines, and enjoy chillin’, go to Benin. Actually, go in any case, cause Eric is there and what other reason do you need? 

Eric, thanks for a great trip, and I don’t want to make you jealous or anything, but I’m going to LA tomorrow and I’m going to eat a Father’s Office burger and Korean BBQ. Also, I had breakfast cereal today. And yes, it was mixed.