06.12.2018
Having finished all the Ghana departure formalities, I had to cross the road, show my passport at the other side again to cross the gate to Togo. There I was immediately led into another building – no AC here, it was broken – but friendly people as well. The first guy saw my passport and actually started speaking German to me! He knew all the necessary phrases and some chit-chat in German, believe it or not. He inspected my passport, then send me to the health people behind him to check my Yellow Fever Certificate … again! That was quick however and then he waved me to the next window where they inspected my passport for the Togolese visa. All looked good, but there was a huge paper for the police to be filled in. That took me a while and then that German-speaking guy had to help me, because I could not find all the proper details on the visa. When I had that then I had to go to the window to hand my passport again and finally I got my arrival stamp! – Is that all now? – Yes, that is all! Welcome to Togo! – Thank you! Can I put my passport away now? – Yes you can!
They all laughed at me when I put it in the plastic bag and in its hiding place around my ankle, though. – Why do you do that? – Well, so nobody steals my passport! – Why would somebody steal your passport? – I do not know, but they do! I heard all kind of stories and that one time when I was in Cambodia in 1996 I was lying on a deserted beach and somebody tried to steal my entire bag with passport, money and cameras! I learnt from that! – But nobody in Africa would steal a passport! What would they do with it? – I do not know! But I am sure I do not want to find out either! Therefore my passport lives in hiding and only immigration officers know where!
Coming out of the Togo Immigration building I was already right in the country – and in the middle of Lomé, the capital city. But I needed to change some money before I could get a taxi to my hotel. I asked some men at the customs counter for an ATM. – They did not really understand me …. Damn, I am in French-speaking territory again and totally blanked on what ATM is in French … Anyway, they pointed me across the road. There I asked in 2 offices and came up with nothing. All the time fending off guys who were trying to sell me on moto-taxis and black market money changers. Eventually, I asked another guy in uniform behind a counter and he seemed to understand me. He did not know where an ATM was, but he knew somebody who could change my money. He told me to come in his sort of office room and sit down. He told me, when I went outside to find money changers they would cheat me and he knew somebody who is legit. And within minutes an old man with a wad of bank notes in all kinds of currencies showed up. I originally was going to change €100, but settled on €50 for now – you never know … I had checked the currency rate before hand and this old man gave me almost this rate. In Togo they have the Communaute Financiere Africaine Franc – XOF or CFA – and the rate at the moment is € 1 for CFA 655 in the bank. The old man gave me 650 and kept CFA 500 commission. I could live with that … as long as the notes were real ….
The man in uniform also asked me where I was going and how I was going there and if I wanted to go with moto-taxi and did I know how much it would cost? I played dumb and said I did not know and he offered his friend would drive me for CFA 1500. That seemed also legit to me – all sources stated within the city of Lomé a rate between CFA 500 – 800, but I needed to go to Hotel Coco Beach which was located approx 13 km from the border and past the city. So I took the offer but reminded them that I am big and had 2 big bags! They grinned and showed me the guy who would be driving me – he was a huge guy as well! I laughed – hopefully the motorbike is as big!
We walked across the road to the parking space and got on his motorbike. He put my big bag in front of him across the tank and handlebar – oh well … I had by now already gotten used to riding on the back of crazy African guys’ motorbikes and got on. The drive was straight forward along the main road paralleling the beach. It took a bit more than half an hour. The guy pointed out all things to know to me on the way – somewhat of a city tour already.
Lomé is located right on the border to Ghana and on the sea front. On the way to the hotel we had to pass the Lomé Sea Port which is a rather large port. I knew my hotel was located just past the zone portuaire, but my moto guy did not know exactly and first we passed the turn off by maybe 2 km, because there was no sign. He had to ask directions and stopped at a gas station to fill up the bike. He asked me for money and since I only had CFA notes in 5000 and one in 2000, I handed him the 2000 and he asked if he could put gasoline for all of it in. – Hey, it was CFA 1500 for the ride not 2000! – But I drive too far and now it is more! – But it is not my fault that you drove too far! – But you can do it for me! You nice! I love you! My name is Ally. – Ah yeah … You owe me CFA 500! Now find my hotel! My friend is waiting and we have not seen each other in 1 week! He will be nervous!
Eventually – after about half an hour drive – we reached the Hotel Coco Beach where my tour would start tomorrow, where I had booked an extra night before it and where my imaginary friend – about whom I have been telling everybody along the way – was waiting. I could hardly get rid of the moto man Ally, though. – No I have no phone number! – Give me your phone I put my number! – No, I left it in Germany! – Put your phone number in my phone! – I do not know my number! Why would I? I only know my friend’s number! He is by the way waiting! I have to go! Au revoir! Merci beaucoup!
The hotel was right on the beach and I walked right up to reception. First they wanted to give me a room in the main house upstairs, but I did not like it. I wanted a room in the garden. I had to asked at reception again, said the girl who brought me to the room. So I did and then I was directed to a room behind the pool. It is big with a view to the pool and beach, unfortunately no porch to sit outside. But anyway, the whole beach front of the hotel has chairs, restaurant and bar.
I settled in. It was now only 14:00 and I went to have some lunch on the beach. I chose Carpaccio de Poisson, which was absolutely delicious, and made myself a shandy out of a local beer and Sprite. The best thirst quentcher.
After lunch I went to the beach around the corner to check the location of a geocache. I did know that it was missing, but I needed a Togo geocache and a photolog would do. Click! Done! Country point for Togo – check!
As I walked along this end of the beach immediately a staff guy from the hotel came charging after me – No lady, no go there! Dangerous people this side of beach! Go other side please! – So I did and walked a little along the beach in front of the hotel and bathed my feet and flip-flops along with my passport – luckily in its plastic back in its hiding place – in the Atlantic Ocean.
Back in my room I took my traditional afternoon siesta and only woke up around 16:30. Just in time for sunset. I went back to the bar and ordered myself a G & T to sit in a chair on the beach. Unfortunately, the seafront of Togo is facing South, so the sunset was hidden to the right behind the sea port.
On the next table over a woman was sitting and I got talking to her. Turned out she is Czech living in Germany, her name is Natasha and she will join the same tour as me. We were supposed to be 5 in the group, but she said one lady cancelled last-minute and we would be only 4 in total. Fine with me, as long as the vehicle is big enough. We talked for a while and then I ordered dinner. I originally was going for Cigale de mer – Slipper Lobster – or Lobster, but Natasha mentioned that she had very good Filet de Raie – Stingray – which was on special today for lunch. Since I had never had ray before, I had to have it along with a mixed salad.
It was really really delicious as well. The bones were flat in the middle and there was a lot of meat. It came with a delectable butter and caper sauce. So yummy! And I had an Avocado mixed salad with it. Lip smacking good.
After dinner I went back to my room, sorting photos and writing as usual. And all this riding on the back of motorbikes, being stuck in mini busses and walking up mountains gave me a mighty muscle ache this evening. Maybe I should jump in the ocean and get pounded by the waves for a while tomorrow, since there is no spa to get a massage around here ….
07.12.2018
Tonight I slept well with the AC on and the Atlantic waves crashing on the beach in front of my window. I got up early to write my journal online, but the WP edit site had updated over night and I just could not get it to work for me. Crap …. But I chatted with the support team and told them to just undo the update and they did. Then it was working again like usual. But it was time for breakfast.
I met Natasha again, she just had coffee. But in my booking was breakfast included, even though at reception they were telling me no. But I was adamant and eventually they agreed. I just have to make sure they do not put it on my bill in the end. Everything we consumed in the restaurant got put on the room bill. Will see if this works out.
After breakfast I decided to go to the city center. I needed to change some more money and wanted to have a look around. Natasha did not want to come – I had hoped we could share a taxi. So I went by myself. Since I was not sure about pickpockets and stuff in the city – the guide book paints a dark picture here – I only took my small bag and the little old camera and my mobile phone along.
Lomé is the capital and largest city of Togo. It has an urban population of approx 838000. It is located on the Gulf of Guinea, is the country’s administrative and industrial center and its main and most important sea port including a free trade zone that opened in 1968. The city was founded by the Ewes – an African ethnic group who are located primarily in the coastal regions of West Africa, in the region south and east of the Volta River to around the Mono River at the Togo and Benin border – and thereafter in the 19th century by German, British and other African traders becoming the capital of Togoland in 1897. The city’s population grew rapidly in the second half of the 20th century and had approx 30000 inhabitants in 1950. By 1960 – the year Togo gained its independence from France – the population had reached 80000 increasing thereafter rapidly.
The security guy at the hotel gate did not want to let me walk alone along the dirt track and helped me to get a moto-taxi to the city center which is located approx 10 km west of the hotel. There is only a dirt road in front of the hotel with very little traffic, but he had a moto-taxi return after dropping off a passenger down the road. I had to bargain hard for a fare of CFA 1000 for the ride. But eventually the driver agreed since he also was not sure where I was going. Well, I was not sure where exactly I was going … Just straight to the city center. When I thought we were where I wanted to go, I tapped him on the shoulder and he let me off. It was close to a big market area and I walked along for quite a while. I had gotten off to early …. And while I walked along I realized, that I had grabbed the camera this morning without replacing the battery and the SD card in it …. Lucky, I took the mobile phone … me without a camera in the big city …. unthinkable!
Eventually I turned into one of the side streets and soon enough reached a sort of business district. At least it was a street with many banks. I needed to change money!
The first bank I went into there was a long line-up and they made me pull a number … 10 numbers ahead of me — no, too many, au revoir! Next door was another bank and there was nobody. I just had to show a copy of my passport and hand over the € 100 I wanted to change and quickly I got my money and even a slightly better rate than yesterday at the border. Not surprised.
The West African CFA franc – XOF – is the currency of 8 independent states in West Africa – Benin, Burkina Faso, Guinea-Bissau, Ivory Coast, Mali, Niger, Senegal and Togo. The acronym CFA stands for Communauté Financière d’Afrique – Financial Community of Africa. The franc is nominally subdivided into 100 centimes but no centime denominations have ever been issued. The CFA was introduced to the French colonies in West Africa in 1945. For € 1 I got CFA 655.95 today, no commission.
Lome has an interesting geographical location – with its city centre only meters from the Atlantic Ocean it is one of the only capital cities with an international border right on its doorstep. It is overwhelmingly shabby, rundown, loud and slightly unnerving and I was not sure if I liked it yet. It was once dubbed as “The Pearl of West Africa” … It probably now is only a shadow of its former self.
Motorbikes carrying passengers waited in chaotic formations at junctions, women walked gracefully with enormous bundles poised delicately on their heads and schoolchildren in uniform waved – Bonsoir, La Blanche! – Here they say Bonsoir all through the afternoon already ….
Having done the money change, I walked around the streets and side alleys where everywhere seemed to be market. I found a minimarket and checked out the prices – water, beer and juices cheap enough. But I did not want to carry anything around with me quite yet. So I just bought a mango juice can and downed it in no time. It was very hot again today, especially in the dusty city.
I walked through the colorful market looking for the cathedral. I had seen it from afar and it seemed a good enough place to look at. It was right in the market area and peacefully quiet inside. Good for a short break from the hustle and bustle of the city.
The Sacred Heart Cathedral – Cathédrale du Sacré-Cœur de Lomé – was built in 1902 by the German colonial authorities, then it became one of the iconic buildings of the new capital of Togo. The first Catholic missionaries settled in Lomé in 1892.
Located near and around the Lomé Cathedral is Lomé Grand Market. The market, referred to in French as Grand Marché, consists of three sections and occupies an entire city block. The majority of the vendors are women. I think I walked at least 2 of the sections. It was very colourful! And noisy!
When I had enough, I went back to find that minimarket again and bought water and beer. Then I made my way back to the main road paralleling the beach and at the first moto-taxi corner I discussed with a driver for a ride back to my hotel. Moto-taxis seem to be the main means of transport in the city of Lomé, they are everywhere and you cannot walk more than 2 min at all without a moto-taxi stopping next to you or beeping at you to offer a ride. The guys at that particular corner did not know where Hotel Coco Beach was, but immediately named CFA 1000 as the price. I took it and had to point the way to the driver. I think he had never been past the zone portuaire ….
Back in my AC room I put the first part of my journal online – happy, the WP edit site was back to easy edit. I so spent the rest of the morning and for lunch went to the beach front restaurant of the hotel again. Natasha was there and we had lunch together – Carpaccio de Poisson again. After lunch I had my usual afternoon siesta and then did some more journal writing. It was a somewhat lazy, but productive afternoon.
For sunset I went back to the beach front and chatted with Natasha. The benches on the beach are nice and have a good view. The tide was in in the evening and big waves were crashing over the a rocky reef off the beach.
In the early evening the fishing boats from the nearby fishing harbour started to go out and seemingly they started fishing off the reef.
I decided on an early dinner, but before that our tour guide Maha showed up. He arrived from Mali and would guide us for the next 2 weeks. This evening he would pick up 2 more guests, who would join us, from the airport. It will be a nice small group with only 4 guests in total. I hope the others are not as old and negative as Natasha, who started to annoy me a little bit already. She had been waiting since yesterday that our guide and his boss Vero arrived. Natasha knew the lady from a former trip, but since she had basically fucked up her tablet and mobile phone – probably not knowing how to work them properly – she could not be in touch.
For dinner I had set my head to Cigal or Lobster, but none was available today, not even gambas … So I settled for calamari with basque sauce and rice. It was very good, too. Very French, I think.
The French colonist did introduce and left behind some of the French techniques and flavors in the food scene of their former colonies. For example – when the French colonists arrived, you can bet they came armed with baguettes! The French sought to implant their notions of culture and civilization to a much deeper level than for example the British, imposing a style of rule that was intended to stamp a sense of ”French-hood” on territories and people far distant from Paris. Politically, the British nowadays tend to be kept at a distance by their former colonies, but the French pride themselves on a closeness of relationship exemplified in the pre-independence days when African politicians served as members of the French Parliament before becoming presidents of their own countries. And this you notice in the food scene. Good French bread and butter are served with every meal, the menu includes starter, soup, main course and dessert, butter and caper sauce … I remember visiting Vietnam in 1996 and after travelling Southeast Asia for 4 months already, discovering good French style bread in former Indochina was pure bliss!
Again I spent the evening writing my journal, listening to the waves and in general being on vacation. The room had a functioning fridge and the beer I bought in town was nice and cold.
08.12.2018
This morning I got up very early and at 06:45 I went for a quick dip in the Atlantic just outside my room. The tide was out and the reef just offshore blocked the huge waves. But still there were some big one. I only spend maybe 10 min in the water – if ever. It was not at all cold, but rather comfortably warm. I did not go out far, just stayed close to the shore. After a while however I had collected so much sand in my swimsuit that I decided to check out the pool. First I had to shower off at least some of the sand, which did not work very well. The pool was not so nice, though and therefore I only was there for a couple of minutes. All the sand then had to be washed off in my room in the shower ….
08:00 was breakfast and I met the rest of the group. Flo from Switzerland and Oliver from Germany joined me and Natasha for this guided tour through Togo, Benin and Ghana. They were all well-travelled and friendly. We had breakfast together and got acquainted. At 09:00 was departure. We got delayed, however, because Natasha wanted for some reason to settle her bill and that took forever, because she did not agree with what they wanted to charge her for the 4 days she stayed here. Jeez, do it tonight then!
We had a great Mercedes Van – 10 years old, hand-selected by the lady boss and freshly imported from Germany – for this almost-2-weeks tour called “Traditional Festivals & Mystic Voodoo Magic” and our guide was Maha. The first stop today was the Akodessawa Fetish Market or Marché des Féticheurs which is the world’s largest voodoo market. Voodoo has a long tradition in Togo. Centuries ago, slaves from Africa brought Yoruba gods to the Caribbean and South America. There it came to mixing of African gods with the saints of Christianity and the symbols of the Catholic Church. In course of time they changed their meaning. When former slaves and their families migrated to West Africa they developed a voodoo cult in the country of origin of their families. Deep in the heart of West Africa Voodoo is not only alive and well, but it is thriving.
The drive to the market was only maybe 15 min. The market was rather small and open spaced – not at all what I had expected. Maybe I had expected narrow, dark alleys and overstuffed, small stalls. But this looked from the outside more than a tourist souvenir market. The van drove right onto the premises and parked in the center. We had to pay CFA 1000 photo fee. I paid it of course without complain – I needed to take photos here.
A fetish can be a god, but also human, plant, animal or material. This depends on the ritual and the situation. In the ritual, the fetish is activated and strengthened. There were maybe 20 or so stalls displaying all kinds of fetishes on open tables. The market featured monkey heads, skulls, dead birds, crocodiles, skins and other products of dead animals.
This market is a kind of super supply store for fetishes, charms and anything else one might need for a ritual. They say, the Marché des Féticheurs is a place where you can find anything from leopard heads and human skulls – OK, I think we did not see those! – to Vodoo priests who bless and create fetishes or predict the future and make medicines to heal whatever ails you.
It is a Mecca for local practitioners and they travel here from all over the African continent. Many believers view the Marché des Féticheurs as a kind of hospital or pharmacy – it is the place you go when you either cannot afford traditional treatment or traditional treatment has failed you. Here you can find talismans and charms good for treating everything from the flu or infertility to removing the blackest of curses.
In the practice of Voodoo every single creature is potent and divine, whether alive or dead, and in this market you most likely find them all – monkeys, alligators, goats, leopards, gazelles, skulls of hippos and many many more – in various stages of decay and stacked up in macabre piles. And then the stench …. but at least it is open air! It was a jarring place for us white-noses who were not used to the idea of animal sacrifice as part of worship or using pieces of the dead as talismans, but for locals who practice the religion, it seems to be a treasure and a necessity.
It was an animal lover’s nightmare – you could find the body parts of just about every creature in the region here, sold to provide ingredients for spells and potion to a population that never quite abandoned traditional beliefs with the arrival of Europeans.
We spotted the heads of antelopes, their faces contorted into grotesque expressions, whole stalls of desiccated lizard corpses, dead bats, the heads of cats and dogs, rows of owls, parrots and crows. Most disturbing though were the rows of monkey heads staring at us. Among these were heads of chimpanzees and gorillas – Africa’s endangered wildlife met a grisly end here to satisfy the desires of people for whom Western medicine is often the second choice.
We walked around the market with a local guide who explained pretty much everything in detail to us – in French with Maha translating it to us in German. It was interesting to look at, though. Some of the stuff did look as if it had been stored there for decades, however. And in between the aging fetishes there were also just regular African souvenirs and things made clearly for the tourist.
In the center of the square was some kind of altar which apparently gets blessed once a year in a grand ceremony and is to protect the market. They said, it is the fetish of the iron god. The yellow goo is palm oil, which seemed to be used a lot in Voodoo ceremonies.
We were then led into the dark and cramped back room of a voodoo priests hut. It turned out it was not even the priest who wanted to give us the blessing – or how ever you call it in the voodoo cult – but it was only the apprentice son of the real deal. Oh well, anything for the tourists, probably.
Anyway he explained as well in great detail the different fetishes. There is one the guide called the St. Christopher of Voodoo. It is a little wooden piece which is called something like telephone-fetish. It has a small hole and another little wooden piece attached to it with same string. You have to tell your wishes for a safe travel and save return to the small hole, then plug the hole with the other piece and then carry it in your pocket while travelling and it will protect you. Well, if it helps …
There was also the big seed of an ebony tree which when activated and put under your pillow will chase away bad dreams. And of course there is one for love with a cowrie shell and 41 herbs sewn into a tiny bag which you have to hang around your neck like a chain.
And there is always Legba – a sort of voodoo god – who serves as the intermediary between the loa – the spirits – and humanity. He stands at a spiritual crossroads and gives or denies permission to speak with the spirits of Guinee – the world were the dead live – and is believed to speak all human languages. In Benin and Togo Legba is viewed as young and virile, is often horned and phallic and his shrine is usually located at the gate of the village in the countryside or in front of the house. Alternatively, he is addressed as Legba Atibon, Atibon Legba or Ati-Gbon Legba. Natasha bought one to take home to fend off her miserable ex-husband ….
Leaving the Marché des Féticheurs we drove to the center of the city to visit the Grande Marché. We passed the zone portuaire again.
Maha took us to the exact same place as I went yesterday and we also visited the cathedral. It was as busy as it was yesterday, as well. We met a girl selling funny African Sunday hats. Those you see the ladies wear on special occasions like Sunday church or so. She had them all stuffed in a huge plastic bag. It looked kind of like a cool souvenir – certainly it was handmade out of shiny paper stapled in shape. I opted for the purple one and bargained for it. I think the local guide who was leading the group around, though, tried to rip me off and told me CFA 7500 it would cost. Since I know how to bargain I said CFA 3000 and the girl immediately agreed. I guess she still got more than from a local person. But what are € 5 for a cool souvenir not made in China! She even rolled the hat up for me for easier transport. I just have to un-crumble it again when I am at home.
We walked past some car where men unloaded goat or sheep meat to be sold on the market. They vehemently shouted at us not to take photos. But cheeky as we were, we sneaked a few shots in while walking past a few times – like shooting out of the hip. It was kind of interesting to see, that they had the entire car trunk full with chunks of meat, no AC, no wrapping.
The market was as colourful and noisy as yesterday. I love markets and today the city started growing on me. There was so much to see! While usually different good are sold in different market sections, here it seemed to be everything was mixed together. There were meat sellers right in between the clothes stall. Snack stalls selling deliciously smelling food in between shoe stalls. Fruits and vegetables next to house hold items.
Women carried everything on their heads from live guinea fowls to huge bales of cloth and pallets of beer cans. And they never got off balance in the heavy traffic.
We went up to the first floor of a market building to have a look over the cathedral and the market. From above the market looked not as chaotic as it felt when we were right in the midst of it.
While the others waited by the van, I ran to the minimarket and bought some more beer to take along for the tour and then we went for a short tour to the new part of the city and the Place de l’Independence.
Togo – officially the Togolese Republic – République togolaise – is with approx 57000 km² and a population of approx 7.6 mio one of the smallest countries in Africa. From the 16th to the 18th century, the coastal region was a major trading center for Europeans to search for slaves, earning Togo and the surrounding region the name “The Slave Coast”. In 1884, Germany declared a region including present-day Togo as a protectorate called Togoland. After World War I, rule over Togo was transferred to France. Togo gained its independence from France in 1960. Togo is a tropical, sub-Saharan nation, whose economy depends highly on agriculture, with a climate that provides good growing seasons. While the official language is French, many other languages are spoken in Togo, particularly those of the Gbe family. The largest religious group in Togo consists of those with indigenous beliefs – Voodoo – and there are significant Christian and Muslim minorities.
There is a huge stone monument – the Monument de l’Independance – marking the nation’s independence from France. It is located on a vast open square with palm trees, fountains, well-kept lawns, and promenades. The 1960 landmark represents an intricately carved human silhouette within a grand stone block. Fences close it off most of the time – also today – and we could not take a closer look at its details.
After that is was time for a lunch break for which we were taken to Le Galion Restaurant. It was located in a side street relatively close to the beach and had a beautiful quiet garden setting with cold draft beer. An expat haven in the big, dusty city, it seemed. The food was very French and even though I was not hungry I took the Cuisse de Grenouille! Frogs legs in Togo! Believe it or not! And they were as good as in France! We did go for a quick walk to the beach after lunch, but it was not anything special and so we ended up for another quick beer in the garden.
In the afternoon we were taken approx 10 km north of the city to a village where we would watch a traditional Voodoo Knife Dance Ceremony. Exciting! In a courtyard behind some huts there were bare-chested men beating drums and women dancing as if in a fit. The ceremony was especially ordered for us, though, and just started when we got there. They even had chairs set up for us. The drumming and singing men were already right into it.
The main man – Let’s call him the man of the house – prepared the altar. Palm oil was heated and he had to kind of rub the hot oil all over his arms. It looked kind of scary … and hot!
Red Palm Oil – Epó Epo – is derived from the fruit of the African oil palms. Palm oil is not the same thing as palm kernel oil. Palm kernel oil is derived from the kernal of the same fruit and it is not the same color as palm oil because it does not have a high beat-carotene content like palm oil. Palm oil is commonly used for spiritual purposes. It oil has a very smooth texture which is one of the key uses for palm oil in spiritual work. When offered to an energy or god, it is offered to assist with smoothing the road ahead or smoothing transitions so that the road ahead is void of obstacles or unforeseen challenges that could arise. The red color which represents virility and swift action will assist with making one’s affirmed prayers to manifest much sooner than later.
Dancers – some women and some men – stamped their feet, clapped their hands, mostly eyes closed. The sound of the drums was kind of hypnotic and it was easy to understand how voodoo devotees often fall into trances during their ceremonies. I am pretty sure – No! I know! – on this one we were watching, they only played it, though. They were good player.
Some time into all the dancing a woman sort of fell and was handled by the others, later the same happened to a man and even more later to a child as well. Our guide said – Now they are in a trance!
And then a few minutes later they emerged wearing a straw skirt, dancing frantically, turning somersaults, eyes closed and skin caked in a mixture of sweat and white millet flour.
By now many spectators – women, children, men – from the village had come into the courtyard and watched in awe the same as us.
Those people in the straw skirts were – supposedly – possessed by the spirit of Kokou, the warrior god, the most fiercesome and violent of the voodoo pantheon. Kokou adepts are renowned for the visceral displays of their devotion – Kokou makes them slash themselves with knives and razors as a way of becoming closer to him. Of course, since it was a ceremony for us, they did not really cut themselves, but just pretended.
Kokou danced and danced, rolled on the ground and picked up whatever was at hand to maybe draw blood. The body was covered in scars, evidence of many past – real – ceremonies. This was African religion, untamed, raw, as it has existed for centuries.
Then a woman got seated in a circle of millet flour and the boss put a – still alive – chicken on her head and she had to hold it. The drumming and dancing continued, each person tried to outdo the other, shaking themselves to such an extent that breasts frequently popped out of clothing – but they got tugged in quickly again.
That woman had to hold the chicken on her head and the boss and another woman sort of put a spell on the chicken and after a long while the woman was almost keeling over in trance and – I think she kind of pressed the chicken until it was dead. Of course, we were told the chicken died of the power of the voodoo fetishes …
The boss showed us the lifeless chicken, then tugged its head under his big toe and ripped its head off….. OK, I did not look at that, but the others told me what he did. He then dripped the blood over the altar. Sacrifice and blood are important within voodoo rituals and any ceremony worth its salt is likely to involve a chicken being killed, its blood spilled onto a shrine in order to seal the pact. Sure enough it will not be wasted, but eaten later on.
The boss then proceeded to show us a razor blade and indicated he would eat it. He showed us how sharp it was and eventually put it in his mouth and pretended he was chewing it. The others believed he actually ate it and our guide wanted to convince us, he did. But I am 100% sure he switched the blade and it was one of those things for magic tricks and it dissolved in his mouth or so! He made a good show of it, though.
Mind you, this ceremony had been staged for us. However seeing some genuine involvement of the villagers in this awe-inspiring event, their concentration, their ecstasy was amazing. It was really interesting to watch and so unlike anything I had ever seen before. The dancing continued even when we were leaving and we still heard the drums when driving off.
This was our last visit for today and the ride back to our hotel was approx 45 min. We reached there around 17:30 and I went to my room to look through the hundreds of photos I had taken. The dancing and moving had been so quick, only serial shots had the chance to turn out and thankfully there were a lot great photos. I put my beer in the fridge. One of the cans had exploded over lunch in the car, though. Do not know how, but the van smelled like beer and one can was leaking. Maybe it was too hot or the driver had driven too fast around corners or through potholes when he went for gasoline.
Dinner was at 19:00. We had already ordered it this morning, so it was ready. From now on breakfast and dinner were included in the tour. I had chosen grilled fish, because again they did not have cigale or lobster. We chatted over dinner and Maha told us the program for tomorrow and we all went relatively early to our respective rooms.
