Being white in Bénin

After being in Ouidah for almost 5 weeks, I don't get stared at as much now that my novelty has worn off. Or at least I don't notice it at much. Or maybe everyone has gotten more discreet with their staring. Whatever it is, I'm starting to feel like an integrated member of society, which is a pleasant change. In reality, I probably feel more integrated than I actually am, because, as strange as this might sound, I get so used to always seeing black people that sometimes I forget I'm not black. But the kids on the street frequently give me a reality check by waving excitedly at me and calling out, “Yovo!”, which means white person, to get my attention. But even though I'm white, every time I see white people around town, which is a rare occurrence, I'm always so startled by how different they look in comparison to the people I'm surrounded by that I can understand why the locals stare.

One afternoon during my second week here I was at the cybercafe when I saw a white woman getting out of her car across the street. It had been a few days since I had seen ant yovos, and I was intrigued by her brisk movements as she swiftly opened and closed car doors, rearranged what was inside, and dashed off down the street. It was such a contrast to the methodical, unhurried movements of most Béninois that I couldn't help but join the Africans around me in the activity of staring at her, completely fascinated. My initial reaction to her was one of slight contempt, wondering who she thought she was and what she had to do here in Ouidah that was urgent and important enough to make her so rushed, but then I reminded myself that that's just how it is in many western countries, and that my behavior is very similar when I'm in America. Always rushed, always in a hurry to get to the next event, a mindset which affects even the subtle details of our lives, such as mannerisms and body language. But does anyone actually get more accomplished? Maybe, maybe not; it probably depends on the person.

All that to say, it's more than just skin color that makes foreigners stand out around here, but at the same time skin color alone carries a lot of baggage. White people are assumed to be either tourists or volunteers of some sort. And while neither of these is inherently bad, there is an underlying tension because many people only come here to either capture Africa in photographs or throw money or advice at a continent that is treated as a country, rather than valuing or understanding the people and culture they are surrounded by. Everyone seems to come here with their own agenda.

Switching subjects to something less philosophical and more photograph-able: the weekend before last we took a tour of Lake Ahémé, which is about 30 minutes from Ouidah, and the source of most of the fish we all enjoy so much around here. There are islands scattered throughout the lake where the fishermen/women (fisherpeople?) live, their houses built to the very edge of land. Do they have flooding? Yes. Do they have a flooding problem? Not really, since they've constructed their houses and their lives in such a way that adapts to the changing water level. I saw a group of kids playing football (soccer) and wondered, though, how often they have to retrieve their ball out of the lake.

Next to the lake was an abandoned train station built in 1810, which, when it functioned, used to be where people could catch the train from Lake Ahémé to Cotonou, which is the business capital of Bénin. Now the train station provides convenient housing for squatters.