The two am Air Nigeria flight from Dakar arrived in Cotonou at six am. From the airplane window I could see the rain falling from the dark clouds below. I could also see glimpses of the impressive Oume river, which resembled an enormous snake winding through the dense, emerald green canopy of seemingly endless forests.
When the plane landed, seven of us disembarked from the plane. The rest of the passengers were bound for bustling Lagos. The Cotonou airport was just as I remembered; a simple structure with high ceilings. The building still feels unfinished despite all the years that have passed.
The formalities consisted on a man standing at a desk, without protective glass, who stamped my passport without a smile or a question. I am not sure he even saw the visa I was so stressed about securing before arrival. The consular arrived in Nouakchott the day before my departure and arranged to meet me outside of the official office hours.
My first stop was Hotel de Port. I picked it randomly from the Lonely Planet guidebook, since the only other hotel I knew (Hotel du Lac) was unavailable due to a "seminar." I visited a friend who was staying at Du Lac a couple of weeks later and was surprised to see that it has had a major face lift. It may be Cotonou's most desirable hotel. It was no surprise that I couldn't get a room there all three times I tried.
Unfortunately, a night at Hotel du Port has the same high price tag even though the amenities were greatly lacking. For starters, the room was small. It took three requests to get a functioning television. The hot water was only luke warm. The wi-fi did not work until nine pm.
The worst part was the lack of tranquility. The space below held aerobics classes in the afternoons and evenings and salsa lessons all night long. I was thankful that my 6 am arrival caused me to sleep most of the day! At the same time I realize that a real sports enthusiast may have been thrilled with the possibilities.
Just about the only redeeming quality if the hotel was it's location within walking distance of Bangkok Terrace, my long time favorite restaurant in Benin (West Africa?)!!! I walked there for dinner and had a delicious plate of pad thai with vegetarian spring rolls!
After a long sleep (the pouring rain gave me even less reason to get out of bed), I went in search of the Peace Corps office. It has moved since the time I was there. I wanted to greet the Peace Corps doctor who is to this day the best I have ever had. Dr. Rufin always showed me that he cared, no matter how long his list of patients was. I know that I can never say thank you enough to him for every time he helped me. I don't think I will ever have such comprehensive quality health care again... And hopefully I will never need it as much!
After my visit with the world's greatest doctor, I rode my first zemidjan (motorcylcle taxi) in seven years. I was nervous as I hopped on but felt happy with the wind blowing through my hair. I told the driver to take me to a place where I can buy a helmet. He knew just the place and a few minutes later I felt a lot more confident on the zemi. The next stop was Marche Ganhi, which I remembered as being a chic part of town. This was definitely not the case anymore. The elegant Vlisco Hollandais store is still there while the other stores seem to be crumbling around it.
The ladies selling sandwiches in the garbage pit next-door, so-called "sewer sandwiches," were still there although they did cross over to the other side of the street. I didn't dare eat one.
Instead, I went in search of Farou's, my number one hang out in Cotonou. I can say with confidence that I ate at least one meal there every single day I was in Cotonou. It is the bar by which I measure all Lebanese food. It was my introduction to zaatar, foul, and baba ganoush. I walked to the restaurant in anticipation but soon realized that it was long gone. Disappointed, I decided to save my appetite. It was Farou's or bust.
The next morning I woke up early to run some errands before traveling to the village. A nice espresso in front of the turquoise blue pool was also a reminder that I was on vacation. At the pharmacy I bought some anti-malaria medicine (doxycycline) and then hit the road!
Twenty-four hours later, I was in a canoe winding my own way up stream to the village. It looked exactly as I remembered.
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