Yesterday I had the privilege of going into Cotonou and seeing a bit of Africa (instead of the ship which is most definitely not Africa!). In the morning we went in one of the 30 odd Mercy Ships Land Rovers and saw a couple of the hotels who let Mercy Ships crew use their pools for a reduced rate, a fruit and veg market, one of the 'gates of no return', and the Mercy Ships hospitality centre where they house some of the pre and post-op patients and do some of the assessment of the eye and VVF (vesico-vaginal fistula - child birth injuries) patients.
In the afternoon a couple of lovely British ladies took my on a long walk to see the Grand Market. This is a large, sprawling market where all sorts of items are sold including: clothes, fabric, plastic pots, beads, wigs, fish, veg, fruit, goats (live) among many other varied items. There are rows upon rows of corrugated iron roofed stalls lined by hundreds of colourful umbrellas (of the large sun variety). The paths between the stalls are just wide enough for a small family car to squeeze through, if you don't mind touching the stalls occasionally, and they are filled with a constant stream of people. Some are out shopping and looking at the stalls, some are stall owners moving about the market, some have huge baskets on their heads as a mobile 'stall', and every so often a man comes running through with a wooden cart behind him. As the cart comes hurtling towards you, you have to manoeuvre yourself around the hoards of people to get out of the way, otherwise your foot is sure to get run over, if they don't bash into you anyway. All around you are bright colours and patterns as the African clothes use a multitude of different fabrics which are tailored according to the persons personal preference. As you wander around the stalls you see the stall owners chatting, braiding hair, arranging their produce (such as baby plum tomatoes) into neatly arranged little individual piles, gutting fish and generally milling about. And the noise is incredible, people are chatting and shouting to each other, and you can hear the traffic and the never ending horns from the busy roads surrounding the market. It is truly a bustling market like no other I have ever seen, however, unlike in the DR where people constantly pestered you to buy from them because you are white, on the whole the African's left us alone. The only negative point was when a police car came rushing through the market and drove straight into one of the stalls. Goodness knows how the people (there was at least 5 or so where the car stopped just seconds before) managed to dive out of the way, particularly in such a densely packed place, but they did. Once the police car reversed out of the stall and then made it's way down the street (where there were throngs of people, yet the car would only just squeeze between the stalls) the people picked themselves up and their produce and started putting the baskets back on their stools and refilling them. Life carried on as if nothing had happened. The bustle returned and we went on our way.
This morning I went to an African church. African church is very different from Western church. We arrived just before 10 (which was after a fair number of people) and then we left at about 12:30 which was before the service ended. The service was in English and French and had a fair amount of repetition. The choir sang with gusto, in a mixture of the two languages, often singing the same single line refrain for minutes on end, however, they were praising with all their hearts. Everyone sang and clapped and danced as they worshipped. It was colourful and it was loud (although quiet by African standards) and very hot, even with the ceiling fans on throughout the service. Certainly an experience, and I felt very tired as the service went on, I am definitely not used to such heat!
