Amis et Voisins (Friends & Neighbors)

[ Djougou, Benin ]

Bonjour/soir, World Travelers.

A lot has happened in the past few weeks, and I’ve been a busy boy trying to document as much of it as possible. Mostly? It’s been great: new friends and fascinating neighbors, a traditional African reception for an Islamic wedding, a bona fide evangelical Christian church service, and discovering the best barber in West Africa. In the minus column came a literal melt-down of my PC’s ever-failing power supply, and (drum roll please) a butt-kicking case of typhoid fever. Both of these negatives combined to keep me in town two weeks longer than planned…and counting.

To quickly put minds at ease, the typhoid recovery kicked into overdrive this morning, after a few days of unpleasantness. At each stage, I received great care at a local neighborhood clinic, and constant mothering and assistance and forceful insistence from my many new African sisters in the neighborhood (“Here, eat this soup. ALL of it. Do NOT drink that soda!” Etc, etc.)

And I’m able to type and post this story only because I met perhaps the world’s most resourceful electrician. A man who reworked the power supply connector three times in as many days until he simply replaced the offending connector with…a wristwatch pin. Genius. You’ll see. Eventually.

For this post, let’s limit things to new friends & neighbors, including the magic barber and the wondrous African Sisterhood who mothered me back to health.

As usual, the following image captions will fill you in on further details.

Without.
Further.
Ado,
—jim

Before you can talk about "neighbors" you need to be clear on how that works in a typical West African city. If you give it a cursory glance, and don't linger, you might not see a busy boulevard like this as a thin facade leading directly into tight-knit communities. But it is. As we'll see... Note: my hotel is right on this road, and it seems like I have no neighbors at all.
78241723_2708168772538358_5608122966584852480_n

But then you start to walk across the street each morning to get a bottle of ice-cold bissap (Hibiscus) drink from these women (mother & daughter pair). You notice their home is set back a few meters from the main road, and they have a successful drink-making enterprise going.
78254291_2708169819204920_6548580032560758784_n

After you get your bissap, you walk into the small boutique next door run by a couple of young women. There you get your basic groceries--coffee, condiments, noodles, tomato sauce--and have a short conversation before stepping into the shop next door to recharge your SIM card. Then a woman walks by, door to door, one of many, selling snacks to anyone who calls to her. You watch her go, and instead of the unconnected string of unused building s you thought you saw from the main rad, you see...
74528532_2708167805871788_5590863039210455040_n

...a small dirt road that runs parallel to the boulevard, for it's full length, set about three feet lower and lined with shop after shop. Here you can see grocers, a veterinary pharmacy, an upholstery shop, a shop for women's hair (extensions, wigs, accessories), cosmetics boutiques, numerous motorcycle repair shops, a barber, a couple of maquis (outdoor bar/restaurants), a traditional medicine distributor, and all the various women passing by selling things from the tops of their heads, and the young men who wander by selling cloth, electronic gadgetry, and clothes. And that's just the stuff I can recall off the top of my head. In one not-very long block.
76727067_2708164985872070_6944713297291640832_n

But let me take a moment to introduce you to my primary savior, cheerleader, motivator, and care-giver during all the recent ups and downs: Bello. BIg Sister Numéro Un. She's also responsible for the biggest improvement in my French since I began. (She speaks zero English, and demands that I answer all her questions and follow her instructions. The improvements were necessary if I didn't want my butt kicked.) She also happens to go to church with the woman who owns and runs the health clinic, and marched me there personally when my symptoms started worsening. I'm quite sure she would have dragged me there by twisting my ear had I not obeyed willingly. Don't let that infectious smile fool you, she brooks no back-talk!
78860510_2708162909205611_2228706865456349184_n

But getting back to the street...let's look at this one unassuming storefront. On the left we have my new favorite Master Barber and his shop. On the right?...(cont'd)
75492492_2708168369205065_8942451282723995648_n

...we have a general corner-store-type set-up on the inside. On the outside, we've got various sorts of oils for sale. Cooking and edible oils, not motor oils--those guys are located up along the main boulevard.
76765526_2708164552538780_7115333969796661248_n

And of course while they are tending the store, they're also taking care of family business, like this uncertain infant.
78270648_2708163865872182_2474852441917489152_n

Inside the barber shop, the tools of the trade.
79008327_2708170392538196_5102664865567211520_n

And the Master Barber. Mad skills. My face hurts, and thanks you, simultaneously. Of course, like most people trying to make a living in urban Africa, Mohammed multitasks. He is a barber, but also has a booth out in front, on the blvd, selling shoes. I'll attach photos of that booth, and of him smiling (his usual mode), in the comments section.
77022092_2708162232539012_1380527042985984_n

The actual proprietor of the barbershop. He's been there each time I've gotten a shave, but it's always Mohammed who does the work.
77185550_2708162535872315_1980754417728618496_n

Stepping back up to the main boulevard level again, you find numerous small stands like this one, the most commonly used gas stations throughout West Africa. This may be because the overwhelming majority of folks are driving motorcycles and scooters, but they do service cars here as well.
73460613_2708163465872222_5764580821222555648_n

After school, the kids join their folks at whatever business the family happens to run. Flashing signs and being cool for the camera are universal kid activities, so far as I can tell.
76986935_2708165615872007_9063965077283012608_n

One of Djougou's typical moto-taxi drivers. They all wear these green & yellow jersey's. Unlike Togo, here they all seem to be on scooters instead of motorcycles. (Togo was the opposite. By decree, it seemed.)
78811962_2708164149205487_1693716796944678912_n

Two more of my guardians and keepers, also on the hotel staff. My sister on the left will pop up in the upcoming wedding post--unrecognizable in traditional garb. My sister on the right is the friendliest person you can imagine, until you don't follow her instructions regarding what can and can't be ingested while recovering from typhoid fever. I thought I was going to get my a$$ handed to me when I walked into the lobby carrying bissap post-diagnosis. Oh, and I'm sure you can imagine. As in any communal society, once the first person knows you're sick, everyone knows. Doesn't matter how personal the symptom(s), you'll get specific instructions from everyone you meet on how to deal with your fever, diarrhea, headaches, you name it. It's all fair game (and there's no sense fighting it; when in Rome, etc, etc.)
79026594_2708166339205268_4683155605672689664_n

This woman is another of my favorites (just look at that smile! Unprompted, even, which is unusal during any photography session here--people love to put on their serious face for photos). Her table--set next to the bissap lady's and under a giant shade tree--is where I prefer to eat lunch. A big bowl of fresh-baked beans and spaghetti, with the usual West African sauce, and a bit of salad-y garnsh with a hard-boiled egg on top. For about $0.35US
78841145_2708165269205375_3971807342399324160_n

My obligatory sampling of each country's beer is now complete for Benin. One of the nicest locations along the "hidden" street is a place called "L'ombre des manguiers"--"The Shade of the Mango Trees." Aptly named, and pleasant AF to sit and relax during the heat of the afternoon. La Beninois is...OK. I limited my test to a single beer (no really, I swear!), but La Beninois has the distinction of sporting multiple labels. Here are two of them.,..
73315107_2708167185871850_7916058080138231808_n

Through all the regular faces flow a handful of those I don't know. Kids like these show up most often after school (the girl's brown outfit is the local uniform), and aren't here predictably enough for me to get a handle on their stories. Of course the locals know them, because everyone knows everyone knows everyone. And so on and so on, without exaggeration.
77139387_2708165959205306_6046223653845073920_n

And finally a shot from my balcony in the early evenng. From here you can see a small sampling of what life is like on the main road: the "major" gas station with moto-taxi drivers waiting; the woman under the umbrella selling credit for all the major mobile providers, across the way a few boutiques and (hard to make out), a man grilling mutton to sell at Shade of the Mango Trees--and to people like me who occasionally wander up and ask for a 500F bag (just under $0.90US).
78600489_2708169322538303_7976627654566608896_n

Share On

The Transglobalist
Photographer, cyclist, paraglider pilot, backpacker, skydiver, writer, explorer, musician, hitchhiker, digital nomad, and American dissident.

Old Town Mombasa

September 30, 2024

The Ugandan Loop, Part III

September 16, 2024

The Ugandan Loop, Part II

September 14, 2024

Amis et Voisins (Friends & Neighbors)

Share On

You might also like

Archives

Categories

@Instagram

Read previous post:

Kamouhou Festival Footage