DAY 70. Saturday, March 25. Cotonou, Benin
Benin appears to be far better off than Togo. When we took the shuttle into town, well, into their crafts market, the guides/security men that came along with us spoke remarkably good English, though it was their third language, after their mother tongue and French. They were wearing t-shirts with “25 March, 2023” printed in large black sans-serif capitals on the back. “Do they make these shirts for every cruise that comes in?” asked Mary. That’s when we found out this was the first one since 2019.
The culture of Voodoo pervades this whole area, we discovered. Here it has a twist that I found interesting. Our guide said there was no theft here. He could leave his nice cell phone on a bus seat, and someone would find him to give it back to him. By common consent they’d have three days to do so.
If someone stole something, they had just seven days to return the item. He would report the loss to his local chief (shaman?), and the word would get out. If not returned within a week, there would be dire consequences. He implied they might just find themselves dead.
Also, if something important of his came to be ruined, by disastrous weather, say, he would report the loss to the chief, and the community would help him recover from the disaster.
We also heard again about marriage practices. In Lomé we heard about how courting was done a century ago: A man would approach a girl’s father, totally unbeknownst to her, and tell him “You have a flower in your garden that I would like to pluck.” The girl’s family would then check out the suitor. If he looked like a good match, a bride price would be arranged. (The guide in Lomé called it a “dowry,” but let’s be honest. The girl was chattel.) If the girl did not like the match, her only recourse would be to run away from her family, and some did.
Nowadays things are a bit more liberal, and many matches are made by couples themselves. Among the Catholics in Lomé, she said, some weddings in Voodoo style would be followed by “white weddings,” in a church. Still, a bride price is expected.
In Benin, a marriage is considered to be between two families, and while it is commonly between decided by the couple, a bride price is still negotiated, and the groom’s family is expected to gift the bride’s something along the lines of $1,000 US.
Cotonou, is also cleaner and neater than their neighbor’s cities. I’m not saying it rivals Amsterdam, but everything is relative. Our guides showed pride in their city. For example, they pointed out their “graffiti wall” as being the longest in the world, kilometers long, painted on both sides. We caught just a glimpse of it from the shuttle, but this was not graffiti at all. It consisted of panels of carefully painted portraits and scenes of various sorts. Not spoiled by what I would call graffiti, either. I expect the Voodoo chiefs would have something to say about anyone that did that.
The market was a sort of outdoor mall, a group of buildings connected by wandering walkways, dispersed with grassy (well, sandy) areas and trees. Some of the buildings were modern looking, some in a traditional style, with thatched roofs. A majority of them were unoccupied. I suspect COVID-19 may have had something to do with that. There was a building that could be hired out for events.
The shops had quality goods. I admired one shop that sold bronze sculptures, some of which I recognized as being copies of ancient bronze work from before Europeans came here. Others had very nice quality woodwork, figures, masks, and some very nice furniture. I saw one piece that I admired, and was told the wood was was “iroco.” Beautiful grain, with black streaks.
The bowl I bought back in Banjul, Gambia is pretty, and I appreciate that it was formed without the use of a lathe, just by hand. But once I cleaned it I saw that it’s patched with wood filler. None of that nonsense in the pieces being sold at this market.
Mary succeeded in buying some nice souvenirs here, some colorful cloth wallets and some of the fans we’ve seen all along the coast.