Le Dernier Baobab A Tombé – The Last Baobab Has Fallen

This is what a Ditammari Cemetary looks like.

The last baobab has fallen… it’s a beautiful phrase, is it not? It’s what people say here to signify that an era has changed, or that the last of the great symbols of a generation are gone. Today, the last baobab was actually my best friend in village’s husband.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned my Mama to you before. Mama Agness? She is an older woman, about 65, who grew up in Boukoumbe. She did not live in Boukoumbe her whole life, but she grew up here and she has retired here. In between then she was married, had 3 children, was then left by her husband, and all that time worked for 25 years as a secretary in Cotonou.

My Mama’s husband left her to start another family with his 2nd wife, and then after they had both retired he left his 2nd wife to live again with Mama. Mama is a strong and very religious woman, and so she found the strength within her to take care of him as his health started to fail him, even though she felt betrayed by how he had treated her all of their lives.

Though his health was fairly good within the last few years, he had been having bouts of tension (I assume they were strokes), and the last one hit him hard. He lost a significant amount of weight and strength, and on his return it was hard to recognize him from all the weight and muscle he had lost. Papa was a strong-willed man, and since modern medicine wasn’t working he turned to the local healers. He spent over a week out in the bushes, living with a medicine man who was giving him treatments and having him sleep on a mat on the ground, and of course there was no electricity. He did everything to try to get better, but to no avail.

Papa Alexis died on March 29th, 2008. I believe they said he was 65 or 68 years old.

I was in Cotonou at the time, but Mama called me the morning after to tell me the news. The funeral was set for 2 weeks later (In case you’re wondering, there is a morgue in Natitingou that has refrigeration). That was last Saturday, April 12th.

Now, I have seen funerals before, but I had never seen a funeral for an old man from Boukoumbé. For young people, aka people without children, the funerals are very sad and morose. On the other hand those who reached old age have their lives celebrated.

This particular funeral was more than a funeral – it was a all-inclusive town event! Everyone made sure nothing was planed for Saturday, because no one wanted to miss the funeral. Ya see, Papa Alexis wasn’t just an ordinary man. After he left Mama for his 2nd wife he was promoted to be a big chief in the Police department in Cotonou. Big men get big celebrations.

It all started on Friday night at 8pm. The body was not there, but everyone gathered and spoke about Papa Alexis. It ended with a ministre speaking, which was when I showed up. My excuse for being late: Nothing ever starts on time in Africa! …except for funerals apparently. Anyway, after the memorial service was over coffee and bread (both specialties) were served to help people stay awake all night. That’s right, they stayed awake all night in memory of Papa Alexis. I drank my coffee and went home to go to bed.

The real, official ceremony started at 7am on Saturday. Mama had the viewing of the body in her living room. In preparation for this, within days she had completely replaced the linoleum on the floors and had her front porch painted white. The masses of people lined up to walk past the body, which was incased in a locally made teak casket, featuring a window over the face where people could look in. I can’t say I got much time to look at him, but let me just say that they don’t embalm the bodies here. By 8:00am this was done, so they took the body to the Mayors office so that the mayor could say goodbye. Papa had worked as a council for the mayor, and so it was a sign of his service and his importance to the community. By 9am he had arrived back to the church for his last Mass.

I found the mass to be especially interesting, because they seemed more interested on focusing on Papa Alexis’ lack of attendance in the church rather than his personality or his family or how much he would be missed, though those things were slightly mentioned. If you think about it, that’s quite a way to convert people: Come to church or we will crucify you at your own funeral!

Anyway, After mass the body was taken to a cemetery out in the bushes. It was buried, and it was encased in cement as they do at home, but people do not have headstones here, and there are not families buried together. There is a cemetery for men and only men can enter it, a cemetery for women, and another separate one for children. After the bodies are buried they put a clay pot on top with a hole in it. I assume that this is a home for their spirit, and the hole is so that the spirits can easily get in and out.

The men all went to witness the burrying, while the women were left in town to wait. Afterwards. Lunch was served at the local bar, where important invited guests were fed while the peasants were given drinks. After this, the festivities continued at Mama’s house, where canned drinks (a rarity) were served, along with plates of rice and beef, fried dough balls, beers, tchouk (the locally made beer), ice water, and even cookie packets for the kiddies were given out. Everyone sat around in the heat and talked and stuffed themselves. Me especially! I decided to leave at about 2pm for no real reason, but the party kept going till sunset.

The next day, yesterday, there was a traditional ceremony as well, which involved lots of dancing and noise, but I didn’t realize it was Papa Alexis’ traditional funeral until it was too late. It started around 4pm and ended by 7:30pm, and the ending honestly sounded like an orchestra warming up, from a distance at least.

I visited Mama again today, and she seemed distressed. I think she is tired and worn down from having to entertain and stay up all night and everything. I also know she’s sad though. She has had 4 days of nothing but talking about her deceased husband who caused her so much pain in her life, but that she can’t help but love and miss.
Most of the guests are gone, and the 2nd wife as well. Many of you are probably wondering how they get along. They are very affable towards one another. Mama realizes that it was him that searched for a 2nd wife, not the other woman searching him out. In fact the other wife (her name escapes me) was incredibly nice and very helpful to Mama.

Mama and the few relatives left are still sitting there talking about Papa, probably even as I type. When I left them they were talking about how “The last baobab has fallen.” As poetic as this is, it is a sign that they are still in mourning. The other visitors will go home soon though, and Mama will get a chance to move on and be happy again. I look forward to that, for Mama’s sake.

As for other things, well it’s hot here!!! It’s been about 110*F the last few days. It’s even hot at night, and having the fan on full blast doesn’t even seem to help at all. Well, I say that and then the electricity will get cut and I’ll realize that the fan’s not so bad after all! Hopefully the rains will start in another week or so. I keep thinking that I see or smell rain clouds on the horizon, but it must be a desert mirage. Stupid mirages.

It’s so hot that no one even leaves their houses between about 10am and 6pm. Today I got a little stir crazy and so I tried to go out and walk around at about noon, and everyone who saw me stopped me and tried to give me a ride home. “What are you doing out right now!?!? It’s too hot to walk around right now!!! Can’t you tell it’s hot?!!!?! Get on my moto, I’ll take you home…” I swear I hear that speech 10 times before I took the offer, and I only took it because I literally got blocked in by 2 people who refused to let me walk a step further. Ha ha. I guess it might have been hot outside.

As for work: I’ve got some new stuff started, but I’m hesitant to announce it because it will indefinitely fall apart if I do. I’m working with another women’s group though, and we will hopefully rebuild a flood pond, giving water to a waterless area during the dry season. I also hope to get some other classes started with this same group of women, but we’ll see how it goes. I plan to train some trainers on how to give some classes as well, but we’ll see how things go before I say to much.

That’s about all of my news. I hope all of you are doing well! It would be great to hear from you guys at any time, new and old friends alike! My email is sarahinafrica@gmail.com. Best of luck to you all.

Sarah

Robberies and Bandits Galore!!!

It must be a full moon tonight, because never have I seen so much craziness!!! Right now I happen to be in Cotonou, the capital of Benin in every way but name (Porto Novo is the offical capital), where I am staying at our office to get some work done. As always, when I am in Cotonou I walk around a lot. It's not necessary, but I do. We have what we call 'Zemidjans', which is local language for 'Get me there fast', which are taxis on motorcycles. They are safe and reliable, but honestly I just like walking.

Anyway, today I was walking around one of our many large markets where which is also surrounded by a few banks, one of them being my bank. I was walking from my bank towards the street and the market when I started hearing a popping sound from what sounded like the next road over. I didn't think anything of it and just kept walking towards the market. As I got to the main road and the market, all of a sudden the popping got louder and a wave of people overtook me. I decided that it might be a good idea to run with them, so I went to the nearest large car and hid between it and a building. After a seconds the popping stopped, and a minute or so later an armored car rolled away. I asked a fellow hider what had just happened, and they told me that some bandits had just attacked that armored car. As exciting as this was, I decided to keep moving and to get away from the market.

About an hour later, at approximately 16:30 (4:30pm), I was walking near yet another, completely different market. This market, Dantokpa is the second largest in West Africa. While I was walking around near there, all of a sudden I saw a police car speed away with lights blazing, and behind it followed between 100 and 200 motorcycle taxis who were screeming and yelling. I knew that people here didn't like theives and that they had a habit of forming a mob to chase after and kill theives, but I had never seen this before with my own eyes. ...But that trail of motorcycle taxis, THAT WAS A MOB!!! It turns out, some people had also attacked a completely different bank near Dantokpa, and there they had also shot and killed 2 gaurds. The reports don't say anyone was captured, so who knows who was in the police car... but I think there was a mob that was after them, whoever they were.

People here are very conscious of justice. That is the main principle behind gri gri (the word for voodoo magic spells). You put a spell on someone because they did you wrong, or if something happens to someone, it is because they have been cursed. Supposedly everyone does gri gri, and just about everyone fullheartedly believes in it. The only reason someone would move far away from their home is because someone that was near them was cursing them, and the only way to break the curse is to move. The people who moved don't always tell you that, but the people around them will. If someone gets sick, the go to the local magician to make them better. They might have a chicken sacrificed for them, and homeopothy is largely practiced here with many natural remedies that still remain unknown to the Western world. Many times, alcohol is administred with roots and leaves, but also many other things might be done. People no longer sacrifice humans here, but sometimes a goat or cow might be sacrificed for a big occasion. Most sacrifices are chickens though.

This information probably sounds scary to you guys out there, and I don't want to make you scared of where I am. Honestly, the people here keep there distance from the white people. And they know that seriously messing with us can get the governments involved, so they really don't give us trouble. Honestly, there is no reason to be afraid for me or for anyone other volunteer in Benin. Think of it this way: If the anal-retentive US government is letting us live all over West Africa, then it's probably not that bad. And believe me, they are anal.

Well, that's my only exciting news that I can think of. Since my bike tour I got sick, bursted an ear drum, meaning I had to go all the way down to Cotonou (9 hour trip) to get it taken care of, but it's healing up nicely. Other than that, I did start a new farmers group of about 6 people who I am teaching to grow potatoes and other things. Potatoes sell for a lot and don't require much work, so they are really excited. People just didn't know how to plant them! I'm also working to get them general information on diseases and plant pests that can help them. Their biggest weakness is their lack of information, and since I can easily solve that gap things are going well.

Well, it's getting late and I'm getting tired. I hope you are all well. I would love to hear any questions or comments on anything from you guys out there, so don't be afraid to respond. If you don't want to post a public comment, you can email me at sarahinafrica@gmail.com. I will answer within a month, since I don't always have internet.

Goodnight everyone.

Sarah