We're Not in Kansas Anymore

I made it! I'm in Africa. Now how to describe this? Hmm...

Well, from the moment I stepped out of the airport last night, I've sort of felt like I've been meandering through a sound stage for a film. All the actors are in costume and giving Oscar-winning performances, even if most are only extras. It's all like a continuous movie that's constantly playing outside my bedroom window, or the car window, or the windows that are my eyes. Very real, but very surreal at the same time.

This is not to say that it's like Blood Diamond, or The Last King of Scotland - surprise, surprise - as I'm not smuggling diamonds or getting up-close and friendly with any crazy politicians. But the scenery and the people around me really do look like something out of a movie. I woke up this morning to the crowing of the rooster that lives in our street (no, not a typo. I do mean in our street, not on), and I opened my eyes to see the tops of palm trees silhouetted against the pink, dawn sky.

We live in the nicest neighbourhood in the city. And our flat is, by all accounts, nice. Not nice considering we're in Africa, but genuinely, truly, nice. I suppose if we we're living in Monaco we'd have reason to be disappointed, but this is far, far more than sufficient. And we'll probably eventually move into an even more "sufficient" house, because two bedrooms, a living room, balcony, kitchen, dinning room, full bath (with tub), half bath (with shower), additional toilet (I think this is supposed to be for the staff, aka our cook/housekeeper Elisabeth, who I feel the need to note is a very kind woman indeed), and an extra room (which is currently unused but will probably soon become famous as the place in which I wrote both my ground-breaking, brilliant thesis, and my moving and inspirational first novel) obviously isn't enough for two people. Yeah, right. #Please note sarcasm# Oh yes, and we have air conditioning throughout.

All this is set back from the road by a white fence - a white wall, actually - that is lined by little cacti on the street-side. To get in, you have to be let in by the security guards. Yes, the guards. There are many guards in this neighbourhood, which is probably why I've been told that it's safe to walk around here at all hours of the day and night. They don't seem very busy to me. In fact, I thought I saw a few sleeping.

We're not far from the airport; you can hear the planes land. We're also not far from T's office, the beach, or Marina hotel (where the health club, pool and many expats are located), though I haven't been to these places yet, so I can't say much more about them. Another place nearby is Livingstone - Benin expats' favourite watering-hole. Had a pizza there last night with T and a couple people from his office. I'm sure that this is a place I will grow to know well.

Our neighbours include several embassies, probably most of the rich local people, what I assume is the majority of the Westerners living in Benin, some shack like buildings, many palm trees, a large plot that seems to be used to grow vegetables, and - of course - the rooster and his groupies (aka, the chickens). I'd say more but I haven't gotten a key to our flat yet, so I haven't been able to do much exploring as I'm stuck inside because I'd get locked out if I left alone and T is at the office with one of his colleagues who's staying with us and helping us adjust.

But I'm not alone. Elisabeth has been here most of the day, and while we didn't see each other much this morning (I was unpacking - not a small task - and she was cleaning), she took me with her to the "markets" to buy the food she needed to prepare lunch. I should probably mention that she speaks English, a fact that will make my first few weeks here infinitely easier. "Our" company-issued driver picked up Elisabeth and me in "our" car to take us there. The roads here are unpaved except for a small handful and there are potholes like you've never seen. Puddles you could swim in. How our driver managed to maneuver through these and simultaneously avoid the masses of mopeds and motorbikes whizzing in front, behind and alongside us is a mystery, though I think the secret to his magic is frequent use of the car horn.

First, we stopped at a fish shop, a small, rather typically run-down building in which we bought frozen fish by selecting our catch from a small wooden crate holding a variety of fishes. Around the corner behind the counter where the man showed us the crate and weighed our choice, there must have been a large walk-in freezer containing more fish because another man wearing a thermal suit and a hat kept disappearing and reappearing from that mysterious place. I kept looking at the small crate holding probably 10 fishes in front of us and wondering how many more were back there, out of sight, and how long the frozen little faces peering up at me with glazed eyes had been frozen.

Then we left our purchase with a tiny woman in a dirty, but brightly-coloured sarong/dress thing so that she could clean them while we did the rest of the shopping. We turned a corner and drove a little further on to the market. This is hard to describe. Imagine lots of people in bright fabrics. Lots of mopeds on a busy and wide road. People following you around trying to sell you kitchen knives, pens, sticks of gum. You turn into one of the street-side vendors and make your way down a narrow alley. On both sides, piles of vegetables and fruits guarded by women of all ages. Stacks of toilet paper rolls and sponges. Chickens crowed into Hershey-Kiss-shaped wooden/wicker cages. You feel something grabbing at your arm and you turn your head to see a baby strapped to his mother's back, reaching out to touch your strange skin. This is the market. Apparently not even the big market. That will be an experience for another day. At this point I am very happy to have Elisabeth. I'm generally very much against the whole concept of having hired help. Wash your own dirty socks, thank you. But I am so thankful for her. I could not do this alone.

We returned to the car with mangos, potatoes, limes, cabbage, parsley. We went back for the fish, then stopped at a grocery store. Okay, a grocery store. Now this I can handle. This I could maybe do on my own. Another experience for another day.

Lunch was fabulous.