Calculus at Cambridge

It would be fair to say that Cambridge and Math make strange bed-mates. Grand old buildings, intricate architecture, narrow cobbled paths, small street side cafe's, a beautiful river and aristocratic gardens harboring 'private lawns' hardly seem a setting to me which inspire the world's finest mathematicians.

If anything, it should inspire them (yes, even the couple of 14 year old math whiz) to appreciate life and surroundings in their true glory. Alas, they choose to slog it out for hours behind racks of unopened books and dimly lit corners to multiple libraries.

I would appreciate the surroundings too, if only the faculty of economics did not worship calculus so much. So seems like I am going to join them after all. So much for the hyperbole.

Wanderlust (A traveler's memoir) Part 1

The unending undulating landscape


15th April 2010,
"It always feels good to talk to people. I like doing that," says Gopal Sharma. He is one of the shopkeepers outside the temple built in honor of 'Ramdev' (not the quasi guru, a celebrated deity). This is at Ramdeora, a tiny albeit a bustling one street hamlet surrounded amidst the sandy dunes of Rajasthan.

I am not supposed to be here i.e. 12 kms away from Pokhran. I am not even supposed to be in Pokhran which itself is 110 kms from Jaisalmer where my bags are dumped. Yet the call of a place which shot to fame as a center of India's nuclear tests and the mystic desert landscape is far too strong. Thus, here I am, after making the journey first by a bus with a rather unpleasant horn consisting of choicest Bollywood 'hits' (sample: Dhoom, Kajra re) blown rather liberally and for no apparent reason by the driver. Then by sharing the good ol' Mahindra jeep so ubiquitous in these parts meant for ferrying 11 humans at the maximum yet stuffed with 20 of us at my last count. For the past 45 minutes, I have struck up a conversation with this shopkeeper selling memorabilia to the devotees to remember their revered deity, discussing topics as varied from effects of the nuclear explosion on the village, to its exact location, to my origins and then to the the story behind this revered temple among many others.
He was kind enough to offer me tea and here I was sharing tea with a person, hundreds of kms away from Bombay, 120 kms away from the city I was supposed to be in, with a rank stranger in a nondescript town, exchanging stories. These were the kind of experiences I was seeking when I set out all alone to discover the desert landscape in the searing summer heat.

The past 2 days in Jaisalmer have been a fabulous experience. Striking up conversation with a fellow traveler, an American backpacker in the train, touring because her assignment of teaching English in Thailand was cut short due to widespread political strife there who seemed to love India but added in the same breath how 'weird' she found Indian men. Meeting this 'illiterate' person who put me to shame with his knowledge about the city, its history, geology and fossils to learning Telegu from a friendly Hydrabadi, Balu (who pronounced his name as Bauloo), have been some of the other memorable encounters. It has indeed been different from my erstwhile adventures as a 'tourist.'

Jaisalmer, standing on the fringes of the Great Indian Thar desert, rising above the landscape with its golden stoned buildings, with intricately sculpted designs and beautifully detailed and rich carvings, spectacular jharokhas and jaalis in temples like Lodurva, Amar Sagar and in its varied Havelis like the extremely gorgeous Patwon ki Haveli and the Nathumal Haveli, has been a perfect mirage. A mirage because in spite of its outstanding beauty and uniqueness in being the only city with people still settled inside the fort, the civic administration is in jeopardy.
Water is a persistent problem, civic planning resembling most Indian cities is absent and the entire economy is totally dependent on tourism. It needs diversification as it might be reaching its saturation point.
Still, nothing takes away from the rustic beauty of the city. The small cobbled paths inside the fort lined up with houses, handicrafts shops and restaurants selling genuine 'ItaliYan' cuisine. The Golden City, as it is known has a fort atop a hill, la Mehrangarh in Jodhpur albeit on a smaller scale but imposing and spectacular nonetheless. The yellow fort has ensconced within its imposing folds, a world adapted to suit the the foreigners frequenting this sleepy town. Internet cafes, restaurants with western cuisines (with an Indian twist, sample 'Chenese'), ports for digital cameras, travel offices, all point out to the pertinence of tourism to the survival of the local economy. In spite of the grandeur around me, the memorable moments have been the quieter times, spent by myself, alone. Having dinner from a jain Dhaba on a quiet deserted street at night with cows gazing, rather bored (i suspect due to the unappetizing tepid Jain food), talking to my ever smiling rest house caretaker, Ganga Ram. Struggling with a room, which does not lock nor latch properly, observing rural inhabitants in the full glory of their quaint lifestyle, dressed colorfully in turbans and ornaments, travelling in a jeep with 20 people with one leg outside the back door, observing large swathes of yellow sands with scrubs, noticing the sun set with all its bedazzling finery surrounded by the sand dunes reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.

Experiences have been varied, numerous and profound. I am discovering my home state and probably myself as this trip continues. As of now, I need to figure out a way to get back. Time for another adventure...

India and Russia- Ties that still bind

It would take sheer ingenuity on part of a person to venture into finding similarities between the cities of Raipur and Moscow. What could possibly link these two disparate lands? Boasting of different languages, different demography and geography, relative importance in political circles of the country, they are possibly as different as chalk and cheese. However, the past month, they have been witness to two farcical trials, where verdicts delivered by kangaroo courts held to hostage the very ideals of freedom which the nations of India and Russia claim to practice and promote.



The first case being refereed to is the one of Binayak Sen who was charged with sedition against the Indian State under the draconian Public Security Act by the Raipur district court and sentenced to a life term. The other is the conviction of Mikhail Khodorkovsky in Moscow on charges of fresh embezzlement and fraud, in spite of his conviction on similar charges in 2003. Despite stark differences in their personal characters, Binayak Sen was a respected human rights activist whereas Mikhail Khodorkovsky was a billionaire oligarch having major stakes in Russian Economy (legal and illegal), today they stand on the cusp of being coroneted as symbols of victimization for human rights activists in both the countries.

The trials show a systematic subversion of doctrine of justice by the state in collusion with the judiciary. It raises serious questions about the nature of freedom these two rapidly growing nations postulate and guarantee their citizens. Not many consider Russia a serious democracy. Mr. Vladimir Putin has been the cornerstone of Russian politics since the turn of the millennium and shows no sign of giving up his grip on power. After the USSR crumbled, there was hope of a democratic change. However, Russia has been reduced to a land of extreme corruption where cohorts of those in power, patronized by the wealthy oligarchs call the shots. In such a scenario, many human rights activists claim that Mr. Khodorkovsky real crime was to have posed a threat to Vladimir Putin, by acting as an independent property-owner rather than a servile manager of Russia's natural resources, and by funding opposition parties and using his influence to lobby against Mr. Putin's aim of building an oil-fuelled authoritarian regime. Thus in spite of many Russians reviling him for his behavior during the turbulent decade of 1990’s, today, ironically he stands defeated by the same system he once perpetuated. Mr. Binayak Sen on the other hand was pediatrician and a highly respected human rights activist who served as the Vice President of People’s Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL). He was charged on the filmiest of circumstantial evidence as being a courier for a Maoist leader Narayan Sanyal and after a Kafkaesque trial, he has been pronounced guilty. This travesty of justices, say human rights activists, has been motivated by Dr. Sen’s constant stand against Salwa Judum, the state sponsored civil militia meant to fight the naxals (seen as largely responsible for grave human rights abuses across the tribal areas) and his constant support to the adivasis and opposition to the military approach used by the Indian Government to tackle the ‘problem’ of Naxalism. Last heard, both Mr. Khodorkovsky and Dr. Sen were filing an appeal to higher courts.

Recent trip by the President of United States of America would have made many believe in the future of ‘Indo-US friendship,’ and similarities between the ‘glorious democracies’ of these two nations. However such politically motivated convictions, a cabal of oligarchs and funded politicians calling the shots (Nira Radia tapes prove that in ample measure), chronic corruption marked by inequalities of wealth, scant respect for human rights are all indicators of the fact that India might just have a lot more in common with political systems prevalent in Russia than it ever imagined.

Aaram: A proletariat connoisseurs haven

The imposing grandeur of the BMC building gives Aaram that perfect setting.



R: You want a cigarette?
S: Yeah, I'll get the chai. Dude what do u want?
rM: well, I'm starving. will grab a bite with the tea i guess.

Sitting with the tea glass ensconced in one hand, bag balanced precariously on the lap to avoid the dirt and the vada pao in the other hand. Smoke drifts around me from both sides as S,R puff away. Cars whiz past, the people as always seem to be in a hurry.

S(To R): Are you sure, you wanna take a break after your third year in college?
R: Most definitely. 2 years minimum.
rM: (sipping his tea) work in villages and travel?
R: Yeah.
S: International relations either in JNU or some other good college. All the good international schools requite 12+4 so can't even apply. What do you wanna do?

rM: Do masters in economics, which field i still do not know but somehow get an internship with the World Bank. Try and get placed in Africa and work there, you know.

R: Its going to be so cool after 5 years, to see where each of us have gone in our lives and whether have we achieved what we have wanted to achieve. Imagine meeting each other after 5 years flying from different parts of the world.

S: Yes, i wanna achieve something in life you know. Like progress. I see so many people who after college are still leading the same kind of life and haven't moved a step up at all.

rM: That's rather true actually. (To R) We might meet at Aaram after 5 years flying from different parts of the world or catch a local from Bhayender and meet here because we might not be able to afford some place else. After all what do we have as an option to fall back on unlike lets say the engineers

R: We have a wider stream and more broad scope of thinking.

S: But still they have a safety net. We don't make it we have just withered away our lives then.

rM: DO you feel scared about your future too? All the dreams and aspirations not getting fulfilled?

S: It has me shit scared dude. Keep thinking of it all the time.

R gets on the phone with 'DQ' and N drops in for a smoke and chai as well. The conversation moves to Copenhagen Climate Summit, the risk of an alarmist agenda, risk to millions of poor across the globe, laughing at north korea to making fun of inane Bollywood potboilers giving praise where due (read Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi, Gulal).

All along 4 guys are sitting on the steps of Capitol cinema, a bygone 'lieu de réunion' of lovers of B grade sleazy Hindi movies, now its paan stained doors and perpetually shut grills signifying an era lost in sands of time . The place is surrounded by a few potted plants full of cigarette butts, a small paan shop which would have sold these butts in their original premium Marlboro casing. Next to it, is an obscure shop. A stout man wearing a tattered Blue uniform with a haircap and no gloves serves the humble offerings in this dilapidated shack. Nothing conspicuous about this place and it would be normal to miss it for the trendier Big Mac a stone throw away from this shack except for this small detail. This is "Aaram", established in 1939, it has been a source of gastronomic pleasure for generations of hungry Bombayites looking for a mouth watering, filling meal, easy on their generally thin pockets which has been under attack from perennially rising prices and general 'administrative expenses' which needs to rendered in a city like Bombay to sustain.

Today with a vada pao priced at 8 rs and a small glass of chai priced at 6 rs, many would consider it to be an expensive proposition. Even then, with relatively high prices, competition from Big brothers and clowns from across the Atlantic and not to mention the clean and corporatized Vada pao chains like 'Jumbo King' promising hygienic snack to people drinking e coli infested BMC water, breathing in filthy air with dangerously high levels of poisonous gases, it still has its takers.And if looks are anything to go by, the popularity surely doesn't seem to be taking a hit.
Maybe it has got to do with the fact that in face of all the cleanliness and corporatization of a humble snack, it has still maintained its fare as mouth smacking delicious as ever. That soft filling of steaming hot potato dumpling, just that touch of onions to garnish the snack and of course the red chili powder to fire your throat and make your eyes water is a combination which any foodie or a simpleton would find hard to resist. It is a pure delight which satiates the very soul of that gastronomic urge impelling you to dig into something delicious which would send your taste buds to ecstasy and at the same time wouldn't pinch your conscience for your profligate spending habits.

This brings me to the all important constituent of the 'Aaram expereince'. Prey, if you have not sipped on to this heavenly liquid at Aaram, really what have you been doing at Xavier's? To sip on to this dark brown hot sweet liquid with a rather strong 'tadka' of elaichi is to get elevated in a zone of bliss. A zone in which its hard to fathom whether your taste buds are regaling in joy of that moment of bliss or urging you to go on and sip more of it in an uncontrollable desire to experience the feeling of being united mind, body and soul with that feeling of extreme satisfaction which comes but rarely in the harried life of a man.

The act of unity though is not replete without the conversations to be had at those steps. The chili of the vada pao burns your throat. Hot tea over that gives it a tingling sensation as you watch people and life whiz by. Cars honking, BEST ferrying disgruntled and people lost in their thoughts across, bystanders smoking, or checking out the newspapers at the stall opposite on the pavement, others whizzing past busy on their phones, beggars accost us occasionally, at other times we are left all by ourselves.
The place offers anonymity, an anonymity that has lead to some of the best discussions being held there be it on politics, to the existing social structures, the education which often leads to derision of our principal(much to my happiness), new resolves being made in life, fears being spoken of, soft corners for people being discussed, analyzed and then dissected, random jokes being cracked on each other which by no means conform to standards of decency and would be considered pretty blasphemous in other public places. Quite literally everything has been discussed under the sun in the safe confines of anonymity, unperturbed by the clock ticking by under the imposing magnificence of the BMC headquarters flanked by the grand Gothic architecture of VT building. This sight is a marvel to behold and can make any man surrender to the feeling of living that very moment of existentialism, which is how life is meant to be lived.

Yes, Aaram and its surrounding confines is a humble abode indeed. But none other place comes to my mind when i think of a place which i will truly remember as i leave the security of four walls of this college. This would be a place which reflected our angst against the injustices which in all our glory of youth we wanted to fight. These walls would be privy to the deepest secrets of our heart which we bared. This place would be the one which mirrored our aspirations to achieve something. Above all this would be place which years down the line we would remember as the one where many a laughs were shared over vada pao and chai with an air of smoke perpetually hanging around. For all of us Aaram has ceased to be just a shop, to quote a line used in Xavier's, "its a way of life". A true proletariat connoisseurs haven which has left an impregnable mark in our lives for a long long time to come.
In respect of this institution, i bow, in gratitude...





Hot afternoons transcend into magical evenings with life in motion. A view of VT from Aaram.

That kind act

A turbo charged day was finally coming to its sane end. After a rather well organized second day of YAF which included great performances, a good turnout and even better food it was time to go back to the comfortable interiors of my home and crash on the couch.

Remembering all the mad amount of scurrying around to placate frayed nerves, soothing jangling tempers, wars over food (a quintessential hallmark of the group), i had a smile on my face. A smile of satisfaction, a job well done and amends made especially after a disappointing first day. As i strutted back with a swagger and a smile with carnival of rust providing sweet solace to my tired soul, i spotted him.

An man, aged 50's sitting on the pavement behind the pile of papers of all languages, catering to all types of classes, which he hoped to sell. His henna dyed beard, missing canines, balding grey white hairline concealed by a circular Mohammedan cap and a dirty kurta of a fading colour, all conveyed that life had been harsh on him. No doubt his haggard face did point out to the fact that he was aged much beyond his years.

It was a saturday and the new TOI crest issue was on stands. Having recently acquired a rather discerning interest, i do like to read this special edition regularly. My hand reached for my wallet as i approached him and searched in the corner pockets to eek out the six rupees needed to buy the newspaper. As luck would have it, there was absolutely no small change in the wallet. Grimacing i told him about my inability to buy the newspaper and apologized. He just asked me 'kya hua beta? Crest chahiye, arre le lo, 6 ruapi ki hi toh baat hai.' (What happened son? Want Crest? Just take it, it just a question of six rupees) and like that he simply handed over the paper to me.
I tried to tell him and convince him that ill come and give him the money on monday and would he be here but it was so obvious that he didn't expect any of it and he was absolutely not hoping for anything in return for having done that.

It surprised me to no end to see a man, who hadn't sold so many of newspapers at 9 in the night and was going to suffer heavy losses anyway on his meagre source of income instead of being frustrated and cranky would voluntarily hand over a newspaper to a decked up boy carrying gadgets in his hand with headphones plucked in his ears leading a quintessentially what might be referred to as a good life. It almost made me cringe that level to which people including people very close to me distrust this particular community, ostracize them for a behavior of few black sheep, generalize their habits and blame half the problems of the country on them. If this wasn't bad enough the government had perpetuated a policy of exclusion against them, systematically eroding their representation in the mainstream while a many right wingers spew venom on them. This was the community which recently one of the CM aspirant of saffron party which he incidentally heads in Maharashtra told to go back to Pakistan if they couldn't song vande mataram accusing them of being traitors and anti- nationals.

THe man on the street didn't look at my religion, he didn't even care to which class i belonged to. All he saw was that i needed a newspaper and didn't have the requisite change so he just handed it over to me. Small action, great thought. In that moment of pure gesture, he showed so much what can be done to ease the pain of exclusion. A small act of kindness, a simple healing touch unmindful of 'barriers' which more often than not exist solely in our minds, a basic semblance of trust, maybe all that is needed to erase deep dark memories entrenched across the history and the future of the nation.

With my thoughts about my own life reaffirmed, the path i hope to take, the choices i wish to make, i carried on after uttering a grateful thank you, half embarrassed trying to figure out the right way to respond to such a humbling gesture. Till then it had been a satisfying day, after that it became a truly profound day, a day which actually inspired hope and trust and a smile to warm one's heart. And yes...i will meet him and repay all that is due...to how many people, thats something i need to figure out...

Discovering the joys of Uncool

Today, as i sat sandwiched between an adorable girl no more than 5 and one of the cutest toddlers I have been lucky enough to lay my eyes on, listening to Takahiro Arai, a disciple of Indian Classical Music legend, Pt. Shivkumar Sharma, playing Santoor, I couldn't help but wonder.

This thought faced me because I knew i was wrong at a certain point of time in history and that too completely wrong and way off the mark. Raised up in a privileged culture of a good life, it was but natural for me as well to seek solace in throaty vocals of Billie Joe Armstrong, connect my sorrows with 'soul stirring' lyrics of Linkin Park, which often did serve as my chicken soup and things outside the realm of India which proved as much to myself as to others the decency of my pro western education, the 'world awareness' of my peers and in general my alignment with things in vogue. A direct spinoff of this order of thinking among many people of my age group and social order is relegation of Indian Music as being plain dreary (Bollywood, especially Rehman and currently Kailash Kher are a notable exception). Out of personal experience, i can confidently assume that this notion is unfounded, generalized, deliberately playing on the stereotypes in order to suit the cult of being in vogue (Appreciating things Indian often isn't) and thus is as such completely unfounded. This premonition thus can said be on the basis of half baked and often no knowledge at all.

As a member of Indian Music Group, i have been slowly introduced to classical music. Truth to be told I hadn't taken a liking to it as a fish to water yet its complexities and multifaceted daunting challenges in terms of different octaves and sonority of voice and pitch which needs to be traversed by an artist, did impress me.
What was unexpected was though was the sight of being able to see a Japanese person play the Santoor, the bastion of Pt. Shivkumar Sharma, with astounding ease and brilliant skills. For the first time in my life the sweet rhythms of music came alive, each chord, each note being being the sycophant of the master in total control, it almost exulted me in the state of a musical trance. Remembering the sniggers of people when the co- exec members were requesting them to attend this particular concert, I couldn't help but feel extreme sympathy for that misguided arrogance surmounted by an air of superiority for having missed truly a rare delight. It also made me see myself in the mirror and realize my own follies, the vanity and the foolishness of this pro western parochial attitude.

Must the love for one be accompanied by distaste for the another? Given that everyone wouldn't have an ear for Indian CLassical Music as opposed to Western Music and vice versa but must this attitude of supremacy based on unfounded notions persist? A harmonious synthesis of culture is the answer and probably as how Indo-Western collaborations in the musical arena make waves, a person embedded in cultures both traditional as well as modern, having a healthy respect for both and a keen sense to try something with an open mind beofore jumping the gun would be a progressive person.
By the stroke of luck and dawn of some amount of common sense, i believe i have begun to traverse this long path...probably so should many others.

The Red Revolution

A cursory glance would suffice. There is no public place which is quite immune to its effects. It has slowly penetrated right down to the basic soul of the nation, touching and coloring places, things, objects with its gelatinous red effects.
The Naxals may be fighting for a red revolution in India since those romantically turbulent era of the 60's but truth to be told, India has been gripped by the red revolution since time immemorial. It enjoys mass popular support by the burgeoning population of the nation, so much so that it has almost added an Indian chutzpah to even those symbols of magnificence of our colonial masters. This red revolution being referred to here is the ubiquitous Indian practice of rechristening the 'bland' places with red stains of paan, that holy mother of all Indian gastronomic inventions which has transformed the stomachs of Indians and face of India in more ways than one.
The corners of lifts, shady portions of buildings, white colored 'Stick no Bills' papers, corners of roads, electric poles, brand new german manufactured SIEMENS coaches of local trains promising an unheralded era of comfort travel and the authors shirt among a million other things and places have born brunt of this generous act of Indian art. It has reached levels that a pot bellied middle aged man with a thick mustache chewing has proven enough a sight to inspire dread of the aftermaths of this oral exercise among the innocent hearts of living and due to the ferocity of the brunt, probably the non living as well. It is not unheard of in parts of town for people to get nightmares about the act since its inception which includes contractions of facial muscles and distortions of perfectly ugly round faces in order to give the accumulated liquid inside enough velocity to come out in the form of a barrage hurtling towards its chosen target with impunity and getting splashed all over it, leaving the hallmark of the great Indian art by this artist all over it until it is re chosen as an intended target and the same treatment is meted out to it all over again.
With the civic bodies bereft of any sort of ideas to come up with more publicly engaging forms of street art to effectively cover a blank space and to add that spice to things mundane, the practice looks all set to continue and thus becoming a part of the Indian folklore. Cheers to a colorful India!!

Flashbacks galore...contd

As days pass, words are forgottem, sights fade away, contacts might get broken but memories never leave...
Here are some of my most cherished moments spent in West Africa over these summers.





Adorable. Initially they were scared of a 'fair skinned' guy. In the end we became great friends though!


A completely unexplored beach at Cape 3 pts which was not mentioned in any tourist books. An undiscovered heaven (which is not necessarily a bad thing)



Accra...with its crazy hustle and bustle. This is West Africa at its chaotic and vibrant best.



At Cape 3 pts, the southernmost point of Ghana. Was the last stop during the roadtrip. I was feeling half dead anyway due to extreme exhaustion but was glad that i made it as this was one of the prettiest sights i have ever seen



Wli Waterfalls. At 200 mts they were the highest in West Africa. Yes we actually stood under them.



THe sight which defines the roadtrip across Ghana for me. Over 3000 kms in under 4 days, north, east and west of the country. Slept in buses all 4 nights. Trying to reach Mt. Afdjado- highest pt of Ghana after checking out Wli waterfalls. This was the way...
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Larabanga mosque...north of Ghana, travelled over 2000 kms throughout the day and the night to reach here. Was it worth it? You bet!!



View from the Elmina Castle, Cape Coast, Ghana. A living hell for slaves amongst the most heavenly surroundings...

Flashbacks galore...

West Africa Rewind...

A flashback into the most beautiful phase of my life...

Togolais Diaries: Ghana and back!

Le 21st Mai, 2009

Bonjour mes amis

Long time since I put up a post but this post just kept on getting delayed due to various factors.
The last few days have been particularly difficult to deal with but at the same time have been greatly rewarding. I have forged new bonds, met some great people, travelled around Ghana and Togo and met up people I really wanted to meet yet had to deal with some tough farewells and had to say goodbye to people I had absolutely come to admire and adore.
After an absolutely heady trip to the village where people lived in hell amidst the most heavenly surroundings one could possibly imagine, the days were used up in planning the trip to Ghana as well as meeting up with a great guy who works in the Ministry of Finance and Economics, Togo. Just the two days in that office uncovered some extremely shocking facts and figures about the country, which obviously I am not going to disclose on a public platform, like this but lets just say that it would make any person cringe if one had the luck to go through some of the documents. It was a grand building; made me really wish that the government would also show the same enthusiasm in formulating grand schemes of developing negligible existent public infrastructure for the benefit of the people of the country.
After haggling which each and every bank and paying a commission of a whopping 20 euros on my TC, I was finally prepared to go to Ghana, my mum’s homeland for a good 8 years. Crossing the border yet again, this is a thing, which I really like to do, imagine an invisible line separating air, land, people, culture, policies, nationalities, and languages. Kiddish as it may sound but just the feeling of walking over into a new territory denoted by all the things which I mentioned above really fascinates and at the same time, perplexes me. Unlike the last time when due to confusion regarding the visa, Dorienke and me ended up visiting Kpalime (not that I regret it of course, because it is stunning and had the good fortune to meet Amanda there), this time the visas were stamped on the passport and in no time we were across.
I have travelled a bit in West Africa and seen a few cities but Accra is extremely different from all of them. It almost feels like Europe if one visits it after going to cities like Lome, Cotonou, Porto Novo, Abomey and others. Everyone seems to have a car in Accra and the roads are in state of perpetual jam. There is crazy rush everywhere. Unlike Togo and Benin, motorbikes are hardly seen and mototaxis as a concept doesn’t exist.
This was the city where my mum stayed for most part of her teenage years so I had decided that I will find the place where she stayed but to my extreme disappointment, I found out that the place where my granddad had worked was sold out and the place which my mum had described over the phone had undergone sea of change. So no luck there.
Apart from this the stay was just fine. Met up with Amanda again, it was great to see her and being the one of the smartest girls I have met in a long time, it was an absolute joy to talk to her. The next day we left fro Cape Coast where all the Europeans had indulged in slave trade. Could only gape and stare in extreme horror as the guide told us stories of the torture inflicted upon the locales by the Europeans as he showed us around Elmina Castle. There we also paid a visit to the Kakum national Park, the major highlight there was a canopy walk which was suspended through ropes and overlooked dense vegetation 40 to 50 meters down. When a person walks on it, it creeks and shakes rather vigorously. It was great fun and unlike all the other people who were petrified while walking on it, the 4 of us were having races across the walkway by timing individual score. With great pride i have to say that i won that race and beat a local Ghanian boy in it as well!! But my joy was not shared by the others who were in the group and the tour guide who i suspect got cheesed off by this immaturity and they literally abandoned and left us in the middle of the forest and went ahead on their guide through the forest without us. What the heck man! Why do want us kids to grow up!! The innocence of childhood is seriously no longer appreciated in this world!
Amanda was leaving the next day for home, so went to see her off back to Accra and again, it was really tough to see her go after all the fun which we had in Accra, Kpalime. On this trip she has been one person who has really really inspired me by her beliefs and just her extremely easygoing nature and as such it’s an extreme delight to be around her. Going to miss her a lot. Trip to the States lined up as well. Period.

Went back that night to Kumasi, reached there at 1 in the night all alone, with a little cash and a phone battery about to die in a strange new country. I really don’t know how I pulled it off but I have to add that I was extremely lucky not to get into trouble. If the phone battery had died off on the way to Kumasi, I would have been probably sleeping on the street that night. : P
It was crazy and being a lil neurotic as I am, I LOVED it. Thrilling would be the word! Kumasi, which is the capital of Ashanti Kingdom in Ghana, too was a great city. Checked out the National Cultural Centre with its museum, which gave a good insight into the culture of Ashanti Kingdom. Apparently the king can never be found bare feet and if he is then from that moment on he is no longer the king. Also the current queen of the kingdom is not the wife instead the mother of the King!! Beat that! Doesn’t mean that they have a scandalous relationship or something but just that the wives of the King are just normal women and not the Queen. Cool concept.

That evening we were back in Accra and the next day I capped off my trip by visiting my mums school in the city. It was just fascinating to be there, see young girls in their uniforms and then trying to imagine my mum in that uniform as a young girl. I really hope that she does like the pictures.
Back in Lome, Babs had only two days so we decided to make the best use of the time by going to Brochette de la Capital, the legendary Lome institution which serves lip smacking African cuisine, partying across at Metro till wee hours of the morning. The next night, it was time for another farewell and this time it was the turn of Babs. By now I was prepared to see her go especially after seeing Dorienke and Amanda go as well and then in no time she was gone as well leaving behind only the funniest and the most adorable memories I have ever had with a person.
These past two weeks have been particularly tough with everyone whom I was close to, leaving around me, going back home and when I was just thinking about it in AIESEC office, I came across this list which was put up which specified the date and the timings of all the new interns who would be coming. There are like 8 of them all coming in end May and June. It was then that it just struck me that my time here was over as well. In a matter of 12 days Ill be back home and all the people whom I had met here, had the fortune to share my ideas with, had come to absolutely admire, forged lifelong bonds with would be only in my memories and new ‘Yovos’ would be here figuring out the country, continent, forming their own opinion about the people, culture, discover the African way of life, get their own ideas, just the way me, Dorienke and Babs had done here. Essentially our time here was over. Dodo and Babs were two people in Togo I was extremely close to, they had left, I would be leaving in some days as well and new people would come, forge new bonds and chart their own way and so the circle of life moves on. Time waits for none and it flies especially through the moments you want to hold on to and cherish forever.
It has been a long time since I got this philosophical but then Africa does to a person, or at least has done to me. Made me fall in love…. with the chaos, mayhem, culture, music, food, indefatigable spirit of people and above all life itself, it has pretty much changed the way I perceive things and some of the people I have met here have left a lasting impression on me.
Honestly when Ruhi called me today, it felt so good to hear the voice of my friend again and it made me miss my home, city and friends but still I am just not prepared or ready to go back. There is so much which needs to be done here, so much needs to be built here and above all people need to be taught to hope here, if I had my way I would have stayed on, don’t know for how long but would have stayed on and would have continued working. The fact that apart from family, friends and city, I return to those silly college jokes, extremely irritating Malhar discussions and its brain-dead events , inconclusive political discussions leading to nowhere and just general lack of depth in things back home also contributes to a large extent to my general hesitance to return but of course they cannot be avoided and I do have to go back.

P.S. After coming back, checked out Togoville, which is situated across the lake Togo. Did you know that Togo literally means On the other side of the river and this was the first town of Togo developed by the Germans who named in Togoville which meant, town on the other side of the river and then the entire country was named Togo. Like all Europeans in Africa, they came here for slave trade and then were pretty much successful till French wrested control of the place and then they pretty much ruined the place. It hasn’t still recovered. I hope it does, the people here deserve better and mankind deserves better!

Togolais Diaries: Dodo and the village!

Maison de Adebayor!




The village! Stunning isn't it??




Le 9th Mai 2009
Dusk envelopes the azure blue sky and the splatter of rain falling on the lush green leaves and trees with some smatterings of thunder providing an ominous warning for the time about to come is all I can hear as I write this somewhere in the middle of the way to reach the peak of Mt. Agu, Togo’s highest point at 949 mts inside a makeshift open hut of thatched bamboos and hay surrounded by the greenest setting one could possible imagine. Lush green vegetation, red parched earth now smelling of sweet rain with hazy mist gently enveloping the place almost makes me wonder that if there is actually heaven could it be possible better than this?

I am at Kpalime to work in a village to develop tourism in that place by conceptualizing and building the necessary supporting infrastructure for the same. For the past day I have stayed in a village based on this hill and the experience has been to put it rather crudely has been magical. Mud houses, red bricked houses with tin sheds, upheaval stone stairs meant to traverse the rocky terrain on the place which overlooks the greenest valley surrounded by hills. This is the setting of the one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen in my life and I count myself lucky for this opportunity. Due to the often-false existing prejudices in the minds of most people, not a lot of people would visit this place in their lifetime anyway and it is a real pity because they would certainly miss a part of the world completely unexplored but which at the same time is enchantingly beautiful.

For the past two days I have been here, just soaking in the beauty of the place and on the few occasions when I am not overwhelmed I visit the sites of the village in order to understand the social conditions prevalent here and to visit various locations in order to see which of the could be possibly developed in order to ensure that few other lucky souls who come here have the requisite infrastructure to fully soak in the beauty of this place. I have had varied experiences in the past two days like staying in the village, experiencing their life, meeting the chief of the village who very kindly welcomed us with a bottle of his prized Gin (by the way he had Martini as well!), eating at his house, seeing the festivities of the village by night like playing with fire accompanied by typical rhythmic African chants, seeing first hand a general body meeting of the village which was frequently interrupted by songs and dance in which the women like everywhere else in Togo shook their bottoms rather vigorously. The place too has a rather upheaval terrain thus its pretty exhausting to go up and down to visit various places in the village but it is really rewarding with extremely beautiful sights greeting you wherever you may go.

The last few days have been a roller coaster ride with the extreme fun, which I have had while visiting the Voodoo fetish market in Lome, which was run by Beninese people as Voodoo originally is from Benin. The market was one of the most mind numbingly chilling/ disgusting which I have been to EVER. It had the skulls of every animal possibly imaginable like crocs, dogs, hyenas, leopard, antelope etc. etc., skins of snake, leopards, horns of antelopes, buffaloes, dead lizards, rotting mice, all for ‘medicinal’ purpose of course as claimed by our over enthusiastic guide who kept on claiming that we should listen to him because it was ‘very interesting’ to listen to him. After that he took us to visit the room of the Voodoo chief who turned out to be a guy in his late 20’s clad in a tee and jeans. We were told later that he was the ‘son’ of the Voodoo chief as the chief was very famous and was away on an assignment to Benin. We were introduced to small objects which bring luck and protection in various places like travelling (phone fetish), love (he claimed that we could land up with more than 300 people at the same time with it, the potentially scary thought didn’t tempt me much and the fetish object was way to small and obscure anyway), teak wood which he called ‘natural Viagra’ and would give a man ‘buffalo power’ to make love (Yes, he thought that this would induce me to buy it! Yes, me because I was the only man as the others were Dorienke, Babs and her mom who had come the night before). Refusing to give into this pretty pathetic sales pitch and also very well aware of the fact that this place was a perfect tourist trap, I refused to buy anything. This kind of cheesed off the guy who expected everyone to pick up stuff so he very bluntly told me to get out of the place as the room was a ‘holy place’, fit enough for only those who wanted to buy things. I gladly obliged. This gave me the opportunity to check out the compound while the other three tried their luck. The place as I described earlier was extremely disgusting and a good half an hour later, we finally left. Even though the place was anything but appealing, it did give an insight into a new culture albeit in a highly commercialized way. Still was good to check it out.

After this we went to another mind numbing place, the grand market of Lome. This place is always an exhausting destination, simply because one has to bargain for each and everything and every shopkeeper personally wants to be your friend and then he’ll show his ‘own work’ in his shop and will very innocently whisper in the ear that since he was a friend, he would give a very good price which would be pretty exorbitant anyway and you are supposed to bargain at 1/3rd of that price. So much for friendship! This story is repeated in shop after shop and lane after lane. To emerge from the market after buying what you intended to/ or did not even dream in your wildest dreams is like emerging from a battlefield, exhausted, irritated, drained out and frustrated. Anyway this day was special, apart from the fact that Dorienke was leaving, we bought two jerseys of god of Togo, Emmanuel Adebayor, one national and one Arsenal and in the most touristy decision ever, went to check and gape at his house in the town. In no time we were there and a grand house under construction with a circular top floor, with a white statue of liberty on top of it with a football on top of the torch greeted us. Ridiculous as it might sound, we put on the jerseys of Adebayor turn-by-turn and shouted out his name and posed for pictures against the backdrop of his house. No surprises then that in no time we were the ones who became the ‘attraction’ as the people around had a good laugh at this extremely immature behaviour by 4 ‘Yovos’ but what the heck, it was awesome fun and something I am going to remember for a long time to come.

After this it was time for Dorienke to pack up finally and catch her flight which was due in 4 hours so after changing the 4 of us met for our last evening together, very fittingly at bar ‘3K’ which has been my favourite hangout joint here with the spaghetti salad to kill for. It was pretty emotional to just sit there and reflect on all the great times that we had and in a few hours the 4 of us would never ever come back together again and in a few days Babs was leaving as well. The occasion made me extremely sad to be honest but a man must do what he gotta do so that was to keep his chin up in such times to pretend that everything is normal and fine and smile even though nothing is. Sometimes really tough to be a guy, that was one such occasion. As it happens the time one dreads always comes way sooner than one expects and in no time it was time for Dorienke to leave and this time it was really tough to hold my emotions as I saw her leave through the glass pane when she waved at the three of us. All the memories just came flashing by, Benin, graduation party, Kpalime, Porn motel, Pool, NLDS, cooking spaghetti, Indian food and so many others. Don’t know when was the last time I felt this emotional. I do sincerely hope that I do get to meet her again. Some bonds just overgrow the actual time spent together and maybe this was just was one of them for me. Looking forward to meet her and Babs at some point in my life again.

P.S. Applied for the visa of Ghana so should be there next week, though I do have to overcome some challenges there and I am also confused about which place to visit but I am sure that it will get sorted out.
The work too looks promising after a lull in between. I have completed my policy document, which appears to be promising according to the initial feedback and now I am waiting for a meeting to be granted with my N.G.O. so that I can duly present it to them. The meetings with prospective partners should follow soon.
Also ate at the Lebanese rip off of McDonalds here in Lome, the place was called ALDONALDS!The name was accompanied by half the signature M of Mac! Though my burger had no meat as i am a vegetarian, it had only omlette with extra cheese and mayo and salad. It was pure gastronomic pleasure to get American junk after ages! mouth smacking delicious!!
26 days left and I almost don’t feel like returning just because of the sheer amount which I have learned here, the absolutely wonderful people I have met, the love which I have received from people, the beautiful places I have visited and so many more which I still want to visit but all good things must come to an end and as my other friends leave I do realize that my time here is coming to an end as well. One thing is definitely for sure that this is not my first and last trip to West Africa, the visit to Mali is due, right Do? :)

Togolais Diaries: Ewilooo 09

Le 6th May, 2009
Bonjour!

It seems almost unbelievable as I sit dsown to write this. It has been a month since I arrived here in Togo and the time seems to have passed in a flash. I doubt that there has been another month like this which has opened my eyes to so many things and made me realize so many things and made me discover a facet of life which I didn’t even know existed.
At this point last year, I was still confused about the college, which I wanted to go to though my eyes were set on Stephens. There was still confusion within my mind whether I would do C.A. or take a ‘risk’ and do economics. One year hence I almost feel proud of choosing the subject which I wanted to take and at the same time experiencing so many different things like going to Pakistan, travelling to Chennai, Delhi, meeting different kinds of people but still all of those pale in comparison to my experiences here in Togo.
It was a kind of a dream to come and work here on a micro finance internship through AIESEC and many people merely scoffed when I told them that I was planning to do something like this. Honestly I wasn’t sure myself if I would seriously follow up on something so ‘ridiculous’ and actually go to Africa but then as time passed the resolve only grew stronger and finally this dream was realized on 29th of March when I finally landed at Lome international airport.
Tough at least initially, Africa and Togo grew on me. The hardships so visible initially, now inspire me to continue working here so as to make a difference in the lives of some people. The fact which I have realized that there is absolutely no purpose served in criticising the attitude of people here because their attitude has been shaped and moulded by the conditions both social as well as economic prevalent here. The biggest impediment to development here has been nothing else but the Government itself with its bureaucratic nature with a despotic head. As such people see no opportunities here with few openings in the Government sector and few opportunities in the private sector as well which, the government suppress through exorbitant tax rates, unfriendly business environment. So how can people be blamed if outsiders find their attitude unprofessional because the conditions prevalent here don’t necessitate a person to be professional and people in power are only to keen to make good use of their position.
One thing though I really feel that people like us need to watch out for is cynicism because it is just too easy to dismiss the country and its prospects for a better future but a change can be achieved only when it is actually aspired for so with hope in my heart and optimism in my thoughts I have set out to do something worthwhile with my life so as to make the lives of some people worthwhile.
Till now I have loved my stay here, have had a chance to travel a bit and see first hand the diversity of West Africa and appreciate its beauty. Its an absolute pity that this place and this continent in general has been so undiscovered. This fact has of course been compounded due the political problems here along with a non-existent infrastructure for tourism. Still nothing takes away the virgin beauty of the place. This is exactly what makes the place so heartbreakingly beautiful as well as completely enchanting.
On one hand I completely miss home and my city Mumbai with its bustling pace but at the same time somewhere deep down I am actually sad this great sojourn of mine is passing so rapidly and is soon going to end. The sights and sounds, the people I have interacted with, the talks on political problems of Togo, coping up with French, the excessively complicated named yet absolutely delicious local food, the music, the infectious spirit and energy are things which I am definitely definitely going to miss. But this feeling also coincides with an understanding, an understanding that I belong here and this is the work, which I would like to do all my life and would love to discover hidden treasures such as West Africa. Looking forward to my next month here and my life discovering unknown lands!!

P.S. Just returned from Ewilooo 2009, the NLDS of AIESEC in Togo. A rocking conference with an inspirational chair who was the President of AIESEC in Nigeria. People from 9 countries including ones from Cameroon, Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, Ghana, Nigeria, Benin, Netherlands and of course me from India were present apart from the AIESECers from Togo. To describe it as an absolute fantastic experience would be an understatement. Met such different kinds of people from different nations, cultures, languages and even races but what the heck one thing which I realized that more different these factors are the more similar are the people. Sure there are cultural differences all right but then what comes through is the common human spirit to actually strive for excellence and work for a better future. It was fantastic to dance late into the night (A hallmark of every AIESEC conference), learn new roll calls, make people dance to tunak tunak which just keeps on growing in popularity, teach them our very own malhar shout (Dhaka laga laga laga!! Hoo Haa Hoo Haa!!! Yes!! No kidding ). The amount of love and support, which I received from people, was overwhelming to say the least. They openly thanked me fro being so nice; the messages, which I got at the end of the conference, are something, which I am going to treasure for my entire life. Made dozens of new friends for life, got invitations to attend countries like Ivory Coast, Ghana, Burkina Faso and today if I visit these countries I know for sure that there will be people who will willingly host me and make sure that I am taken care of. Truly the power of AIESEC in absolutely fantastic, this I have realized after attending places like Pakistan, Togo and honestly has made me fall in love with the organization all over again.

The coming week though doesn’t look very promising as the two Dutch interns in whom I found great company and fantastic friends are leaving for their country and thus I will be the only foreign intern left here in Togo. Not a very comforting thought as I am definitely going to miss them and the whale of a time we had travelling to Benin, Kpalime, roaming on the streets of Lome, sitting at random bars and having what else but spaghetti, shopping for African stuff, trying to cook eatable food (which did turn out to be pretty awesome), throwing random surprises and just talking and being for one another in this new land. Though one thing is for sure that now I definitely have to make a trip to Netherlands as well to meet two of the nicest and fun loving people I have met in a long long time and I think I have been able to convince them to come to India as well. So should be cool. Rest is pretty normal as such if anything here can be referred to as normal here. Have eaten more beef and even chicken though the thought of eating fish still absolutely disgusts me. But then I don’t want to turn into a non-vegetarian so planning to give up non-veg voluntarily to preserve the integrity of all the animals including the very delicious cows as well!

One month left for my trip to end. Looking forward to travel more, to Ghana and maybe to the north or if I am extremely fortunate to the place where I want to go the most, Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso. Lets see how it shapes up.

Benin: Contd......

Le 21st Avril, 2009

Bonjour

Memories, images, experiences jostle with each other to be expressed as a sit to write this. Its on few occasions of my life that im ever at a loss for words, this moment happens to be one of them. I am unaware of the correct word which might explain my experiences in Benin over the past weekend. Maybe i can call my trip: crazy, incredulous, breathtaking, fascinating, an eye opener or just downright memorable!

We took a taxi from the market of Lome to Cotonou which is the main administrative center of Benin and its commercial capital as well. The thing with the taxis here in Togo and Benin as well especially the ones which ply across the countries is that they stuff people inside them. So in the front seat instead of two people including the driver, 3 people sit and on the back seats instead of 3,4 people are made to sit. This small addition of 2 people certainly isnt very helpful for the comforts of ones back or his bottom which get entangled in weird angles and positions.
The border of Benin was a two hour drive from the city and after doing with our immigration i was finally stamped out of Togo, not sure as to how would i return because i had with me only a single entry visa which means that you can enter and leave that particular country only once. I had entered on the 29th of March and now i was stamped out. Trying hard not to think about this absolutely ludicrous decision of mine to take such kind of a risk in a foreign land, i encountered pretty unfriendly sights while crossing the border by foot. The locals of Togo do not need a visa as Benin and Togo along with other West African nations are a part of ECOWAS(Economic community of West African nations), something like the EU, still one really fat Togolese soldier who can at best could be described as a mix between Yokozuna and a rhino pushed a man so hard that as a resultant effect of his push some 5 people after him too fell backwards on the ground centimeters ahead of me. Being with two white girls definitely has its advantages as he let us pass without even raising an eyebrow and soon enough we had walked past Togo and entered Benin.
Of course the feeling this time just wasn't the same sa last time when i had crossed the border on road between India and Pakistan but still it does give a person a sense of wonder to see that a gate separates land, humanity, air which essentially is the same everywhere!
Soon enough we were at the Benin's side of immigration and here i encountered another scary omen, a huge African guy nearby started shouting at the top of his voice and suddenly there was army all around him who pinned him, caught his hands and took him into a room just behind the guy who was stamping our visas and 8 army people surrounded this guy and took things like wooden rods, belts, whips inside with them. Spine chilling to say the least. I hope that the guy is doing well now.
After this rather eventful border crossing we continued in the same taxi and reached Cotonou soon enough. The town of Cotonou is maddening to say the least! At 10:30 in the night it was full of traffic, honking cars and zipping motorcycle taxis (called zemie johns according to Lonely planet). There were no traffic lights where we got off but there were neon lights so in the traditional sense one may refer to Cotonou as more developed than Lome if more cars, traffic, pollution, noise, neon lights can be a pointer in that direction. My host Sam has an uncle in Cotonou and so to meet him we took a 'zemie john' to his place. I have to admit the ride was by far THE most scariest, hair raising thing i had ever experienced. The moto taxi driver was cutting all kinds of heavy vehicles, passing between places so narrow that i could actually feel the my jeans brushing past other vehicles. Finally we reached the place (alive!!!), it was in the middle of nowhere if it can be called that because we crossed so many watery puddles formed on mud roads, taken many winding and hairpin turns and had left the main road far behind when we finally reached there. There were no other form of human movements there except the 4 of us and were put up at a motel close by.

After a rather uncomfortable night due to the fact that the pillows were really not cosy and also because we discovered that the bathroom did not have a door and it directly faced the bed,we woke up next morning, kicked to check out this promising country!

First up we went to Ganvie, which is reached after traveling 12 km in a boat through a lake Nakoue. It is essentially a cluster of villages built in the sea and it often referred to sa the Venice of West Africa because the huts, restaurants, bars, shops are all surrounded by the lake and one can commute only through a boat. This place was absolutely fantastic. The people here do have queer habits. THe women are especially averse to getting their pictures clicked. Infact if you notice the 1st picture of the previous post then you will see that the girl is hiding her face to prevent getting clicked. Also the locals here call a white person 'Yovo' and being a brown skinned, it did sound odd but i too was being referred as a Yovo. All the children here, some even as young as 2 years of age would surround us and shout Yovo Yovo cadeau (gift in french). Wherever we went these chants in their sing song fashion continued. SO much so that now when i am back in Togo i actually miss people shouting Yovo Yovo cadeau at me!! This has also become our way of greeting each other these days!! Truly hilarious.
Another thing which was pretty funny was that at one of the bars where we had stopped our boat to buy some souvenirs and get a drink, we came across a pretty looking brown skinned girl which my host and the 2 dutch girls decided was Indian and as a result should hook me up with her. As it turned out she lived in a hotel opposite the bar in the middle of the lake. So these two extremely crazy Dutch girls go and just enter her room where there were two other local boys. They sweet talked them to get inside, woke up the Indian girl who was sleeping and had a nice chat with her and another American girl who was with the group too. I have taught them to say in hindi, 'mujhe tumse pyaar hai'. Now for some reason the girl thought that it was incorrect and the dutch girls replied to that our friend from India has taught me that. To their super excitement she replied back saying that in that case she would like to meet this 'Indian friend' of theirs. Thus i got hauled up by the their super excitement and came face to face with her. Apparently her dad was a Xavierite and had shifted to the States. All of us had a nice long conversation about everything and nothing. After this rather random meeting we went back to the shore on the boat again. After this rather enjoyable boat ride due to a nice cool breeze, warm and a bright azure blue sky, it almost gave a feeling of being a vagabond.

Soon enough it ended as all great things do and we were off to the capital of Benin Porto Novo. The mini van which we took was an extremely crowded one with people stuffed in like hens in a poultry van. Though it did give a chance to see things and people way more closer than a normal tourist ever would. The chants and the scramble of the vendors trying desperately to seal their wares to people inside. The sights, noises of the city of Cotonou, the way of dressing of people of Benin were all rather vividly noticeable and apparent throughout that journey.
Porto Novo as a city is completely different from Lome and Cotonou. Whereas Lome is bustling dotted with bars which occupy every nook and corner of the city playing loud music, Cotonou was simply maddening with its sea of humanity coming from anywhere and everywhere. Porto Novo though was a very relaxed city, the kind where one would assume that life would take its own course, the bars were missing and the roads were winding with a cluster of houses lined up. It was an absolutely delightful place to relax and just observe the diversity of the Western part of this beautiful continent. The motel this time too was extremely weird to say the least as the bathrooms again did not have a door, there was a large horizontal mirror placed parallel to the bed, there was a red night lamp and the tv showed porn movie (for those of you wondering what kind then it was ebony porn but not that it interested me), pretty creepy to say the least but then i guess thats the pitfalls which comes with a budget tour of a place.
We hit the bar around town after resting for some time where for the want of any other vegetarian option i had spaghetti again!! Here i tasted beef again after the day we ate dutch food and i must say that im not a fan of it or anything but its pretty decent!
In the mood to dance, we decided to go to a bar with music as the bar in which we were in showed only a TV channel which had pictures of all the people who had died! Disturbing and not the kind of place where one would ideally like to be after a bottle of beer. Anyway the bar where we finally went turned out to be even more disastrous as there were only 4 girls in there including the 2 with us and it was full of men. Now this kind of a gay bar isn't exactly the one where one would be tempted to dance anyway. SO a couple of drinks later we were out of that place and crashed in our rooms of that extremely suggestive motel where we were put up.

The next day we decided that due to lack of any 'tourist' attractions at the city we will go to Abomey which was 150 kms north of Cotonou as there the Dahomey dynasty which according to lonely planet was very gory and had acquired wealth by indulging in slave trading with the French had a palace which was also a UNESCO world heritage site.

After checking out the GRAND MARCHE which was tres petit and very very quiet as compared to the city of Cotonou and the GRAND MARCHE OF Lome as well, we headed to Cotonou to catch a connecting taxi to Abomey. The taxi ride as again was uncomfortable for a persons essential body parts due to the tendency here to stuff people inside but anyway we did successfully reach in a single piece to Cotonou and caught a connecting taxi to Abomey.
The countryside was stunning to say the least with lush green trees, plantations, mountains in the background. Picturesque!
The drive was a long one for about 4 and a half hours. Finally we were at Abomey and maybe to welcome us the skies opened up and it poured to quite a while like cats and dogs. As a result, puddles of waters, running lakes on the streets were formed la our very own Mumbai and i couldn't help but just smile at the similarity of the situation. But all the similarities ended here because the town was a quaint one with small streets and by lanes, even more relaxed and slow than Porto Novo itself. A beautiful place!
It was already night and was pouring, as a result we decided to stay indoors and check out the city the next day. Finally the next day we set out to get a glimpse into the graphic past of Benin and a large chink of West Africa. The museum, which essentially was a restored palace was a World heritage site as well. Graphic and gory images and colourful carvings of sadism, heads being chopped off, brutal killings, lions and other animals adorned the walls of the palace. This palace was nothing like the majestic ones back in India but infact had thatched huts which one would normally associate with houses in rural India but to our horror we realized that many of these huts were built from mud and blood of enemy soldiers who had been killed in battles. There were other things like skulls kept inside a shaft made out of horse hair meant to ward off mosquitoes but the throne which was mounted on 4 human skulls was downright spine chilling. People talk about the gory and primitive or if i may use the word unevolved past of the continent but here i had the first hand chance to see the brutal deaths depicted by pictures, paintings, gory deaths and processions in which the women were hacking men to death.
The tour also made me come across some rather strange facts, one was the that in the Dahomey dynasty, women were better soldiers then men so often in a battle an army of women would be sent. I obviously did not believe it initially but on later i could completely understand it after seeing the images in which women displayed their raw brutality in killing men. In one of the pictures, one guy was being burnt in flames tied to a tree while two women were simultaneously shooting them and one of then was hacking him with a sword!! The Dahomey dynasty also acquired modern weapons from the Portuguese, Dutch, French and the Germans who trade them in exchange of 15 women with perk breasts (yes thats right!!!) or 20 able bodies slaves. Also one of the kings here had 4000 wives! Yes sir, four thousand wives!
Unnatural as it might sound but as i interact with more and more people this fact becomes digestible because the last president of Togo had 106 children only officially, locals say the number could be close to 300 or something, fathered from uncountable number of women. The current President too has around 70 wives and many many more to come according to people here and pologamy is legally allowed and freely practiced in Ghana, Benin and Togo.

After this rather insightful tour, the pictures of which i could not take because photography was prohibited, we had a much needed lunch served to us by rather unfriendly waitress. We got a taxi back to Cotonou from where we took a taxi to Lome. The immigration was a breeze on the Benin side as the officials seemed way to happy to host two beautiful dutch girls ( i have to admit that their presence is a blessing because then everything becomes pretty simple and officials dont seem keen to harass you, maybe i should send this point to lonely planet as well!). The shock came on the Togo side of the border.
As explained before i had a single entry visa and instead of harassing me, taking bribes from me or issuing a new visa the official at the border simply stamped my visa again and then in no time i was inisde togo on the same visa! Dont know how he made that mistake but surely it was a blessing for me as i did not have to pay anything or wait for a new visa though i hope that it does not give me problems when im flying back to India!!
So this was my trip, crazy because of my decision to go on a single entry visa, incredulous because i actually came back on the same visa, memorable because of the sights and sounds like Yovo Yovo cadeau!! and the Dahomey dynasty and Porto Novo where we went to a gay bar (well almost!!) Still cant choose between any of the words to ill settle for a cliche UNFORGETTABLE!!

Benin: Undiscovered beauty!

Le 20th Avril 2009

Bonjour!!

Over the weekend i visited along with 2 dutch girls and my host Sam, neighboring country of Togo, Benin, the country where the religion Voodooism was founded. Along with this it was also home to the gory and extremely ruthless Dahomey dynasty which got rich by indulging in slave trade with the French.
Some times words fail to emote effectively what a person feels, and as of now im in that state, so no words, only pictures for now!!

Togolais Diaries...fear gripping the town

Le 16th Avril, 2009

Bonjour

THe last few days have been a little scary due to the possibility of civil unrest which might grip the nation. In continuing with the true spirit of disrespecting democracy however flawed it might be in the continent, the brother of the current President whose father was the longest serving dictator in the history of Africa (he ruled Togo for 38 yrs!!), apparently hatched a conspiracy to assassinate his President brother who was 'democratically' elected in a flawed, violent and an oppressive election (any local will vouch for that) in the year 2005 after the death of this dictator father. As a result of his extreme audacity, there were stuff like gunshots not far away from where i live and his brother went and hid inside the US embassy for 2 days and was arrested yesterday morning as he was trying to escape. As to how did he reach the US embassy and how was he allowed to get inside, ask the air headed Americans themselves because nobody seems to know.

Due to this my hosts mother has been unusually scared about me and Sam, returning home late at night, also there has been a general increase in the presence of military around the city.
This coincided with another scary incident after Babs birthday celebrations. It was around 12 at night and i was with all the guys and of course Babs unaware of these scary developments which had taken place a day before. As me and SAM went away, we got the news that Babs who was going home with another boy were stopped by the police in the middle of the night because that boys bike did not have the necessary papers. They were apparently surrounded by 8 policemen who later we came to know were not on duty but merely wanted some bribe. So we decided to go and see what was happening, on the way we saw them coming and we too started following them, then from nowhere two police bikes speeded up from behind us and it almost looked like a chase, what was the reason i still do not know but my heart was in my mouth for sure!! Phew and then they sped past us and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
So the incidents of the past two days have been scary and would freak anyone out so it came as a huge relief that we finally decided to go to Benin with my host and the two dutch girls, i was anyway glad to be out of the city for some time till the mess gets hopefully sorted.
So today evening, at around 4 after receiving the visa, i would be leaving for Benin which i have heard from Babs who has been there before that its a beautiful country!

P.S. Since i only have single entry visa with me for Togo, ill need to buy the visa for Togo at the border of Benin again and i hope that it does not turn out to be a problem because then otherwise ill be in soup and may even get deported once my visa of Benin expires. Though i have heard and assured by many people that its never a problem to buy a visa at the border. ALso i hope that the political situation sorts itself out because for the sake of my own safety and for the sake of this country itself, it cannot afford to get itself into another political mess especially after it has been coming out of political wilderness throughout the 90's decade! Another political setback would effectively signal death knell for the development of the country and its people for many more years to come. The world survives on hope and i hope that this country never has to experience what it has done in the past and that normalcy returns as soon as possible!

http://www.reuters.com/article/latestCrisis/idUSLD623140?rpc=60