Cotonou is more of a large town than a small city.  Even by Nicaraguan
standards it's unassuming, and yet it's the economic capital of Benin (Porto
Novo to the east remains the political capital, a bifurcation no one seems to
mind).  It's an easy town to navigate: three major roads – still just one
narrow lane in each direction – run east to west lengthwise from one side
of town to the other and parallel to the beach.  The one that runs closest to
the shoreline passes the city's two best hotels, the port, the French embassy,
and the airport, forming somewhat of a spine to the city.  To the north,
Livingstone Street supports many of the city's better restaurants.

A pair of monuments, the open air market, and a couple of distinctive buildings
like the Palais de Congrès, the international convention center, the Catholic
cathedral and a handful of mosques comprise the only distinctive landmarks
attributable to humankind; the lagoon to the north, the ocean to the south, and
the mouth of the river define the rest of the city's landmarks.  Neat concrete
buildings, sometimes surfaced with ceramic tile, line the city's commercial
district.  The city is architecturally rather nondescript, lacking high rise
office buildings, parks or green areas, or even really very much in the way of
entertainment.  But it's essentially clean, more or less organized, and a
decent place to live.  We have yet to find any shanty towns of tin hovels and
the miserable living spaces of the destitute.  Life is organized around the
work day and the family, the law is generally respected and the city is
essentially orderly.  The latter is no small accomplishment worldwide, judging
by the state of things.


We live in a residential area, not the nicest neighborhood in the city but it's
one of the better nonetheless and much of the city's entrepreneur class are our
neighbors.  It's hard to escape the images of poverty and suffering in the
developing world, but every nation in the world no matter how poor retains a
social hierarchy of entrepreneurs, the political and economic elite, and the
expat bourgeoisie, some of which live lifestyles no different from the average
middle or upper class American.  Cotonou is no different.   Our neighbor on one
side is a businessman, on the other a development professional, across the
street an ambassador.

In the residential areas a great deal of creativity and individualism has gone
into the homes.  While nothing is particularly striking, it's clear people have
tried to create interesting spaces taking advantage of aspects of African,
Middle eastern, and Western elements: sweeping archways, interior courtyards
for gardens or birds,  fountains, crenellated rooftops, clay tile roofs,
mirrored glass panels, shuttered overhangs.  Some of it is appealing, and some
of it is bizarre, like an architect's sketchpad, successes and failures
included.

The day begins around 6:30 with the call of birds outside in the palm trees and
casuarina and the whining of the puppies downstairs.  We breakfast on tea and
toasted French bread.  Just outside of the capital are a number of sandy
beaches we visit on the weekends, but we sometimes explore the city on our
bikes as well, if the rainy season weather permits.  The French embassy runs a
cultural center just blocks from our home and presents films, speakers, and
musicians most nights of the week.  Or if we need a break we just stay home to
enjoy the pool, walk the puppies, or read books.  We've got satellite tv in the
upstairs living room presenting French language programming and a fast –
but expensive – Internet connection.  We've made a couple of Beninese
friends, one of whom has invited us to his family's village and organic farm
just north of the city of Porto Novo.

Benin is African, foremost – in the physical characteristics of its
people and their bright clothing, but Africa has long been influenced by other
cultures and continues to be so to this day.  Most of the better stores and
businesses are run by the burgeoning Lebanese community, some of whom fly the
Cedar flag from the balconies of their homes, and the Arab cultures –
Libya in particular – play a growing and important role in the society.
President Khadaffi has financed the construction of dozens of mosques around
the nation.  

The Chinese have financed the construction of a bevy of official buildings and
amazingly sent their own construction teams of Chinese coolies, but the
entrepreneurs have opened up a bunch of restaurants as well.  And of course the
Western donor community and more than one expat citizen play an important role
in the local society, not to mention the economy.  The least welcome foreigners
are probably the Nigerians, who spill over the nation's porous borders and hawk
merchandise at street corners.  They are blamed for most of the society's
problems, the way the Turks are in Germany, or the Mexicans in the United
States, regardless of whether it's true.  We have found just about everything
we've wanted to buy, though shopping is a much different experience in Benin
and the prices without exception are high (due to the expense incurred in
importing).  The importers keep the little shops stocked with European wine,
Middle eastern juices, Chinese plastic wares, Indian spices, and African
fabric.  Like Indonesia or Nicaragua, you won't find many clothing shops, but
every neighborhood has a highly regarded tailor who can produce what you want;
there's no IKEA for buying prefabricated furniture, but it's not hard to find a
carpenter who can build to your whims.  And where construction is concerned,
the new home across the street never saw a single bulldozer arrive to dig out
the foundation, but a team of coolies with shovels got the job done over the
course of a week.  Africa is exotic in so many ways, but what makes up the
daily rhythm of life changes little across the world's territories.  And so we
are living a life very similar to our life in Washington DC or Managua or El
Hato or Yogyakarta.  It's just the details that are distinctive, and when
hanging around with the Latino expats it's easy for me to forget where I am.
That's a brief overview of our lifestyle in Cotonou.  It's easy to get wrapped
up in the traditional images of Africa, which with few exceptions are bleak.
But we're learning Africa is much more than starvation and war.  Like elsewhere
there are visionaries and office drones, entrepreneurs and the fatalistic, and
families hoping to better their position in life.  We're happy to be here,
happy to be learning so much and meeting such interesting people, and happy to
let you know we are living well.