Fete Nationale

For those of you not in the "know", two days ago was Benin's forty ninth birthday. The big 4-9! Pretty young I know. I think it's interesting to compare how they're doing to how we were back in 1825, when the good ole' U.S. of A. was forty nine. While it's clearly not completely fair, what all with globalization and the like, it's still pretty cool to think about it. What is more, who knows where le Republique du Benin will be in another two hundred years? Look out world!
My adopted Maman, Momzilla I like to call her, took me to the parade in my adopted town, the capital of Benin, Porto-Novo. It was quite the occasion with vodun priests and fire trucks all vying for the crowd's attention. Faux rois shared the stage with army generals and mayors in a ceremony eerily reminiscent of New Orleans during festival.
After our return, a family friend took me on a walk through the quartier. While I am generally liberal minded, I like to think, it was hard for me to get over the fact that my friend kept on holding my hand. Apparently it is quite common for men to hold hands as they walk through the streets here and for a nation that doesn't believe in homosexuality ("what is this thing you speak of?") I found it somewhat humorous is not extremely so.
As Odilla and I walked through the blood red streets of Porto-Novo, hand in hand, we came across a festive crowd. We were in luck, for we had stumbled onto a football match. When I say football, mind you, I mean soccer, African style. When I say African style, mind you, I mean on the sand with goals the size of shopping carts. Even then, the crowd was quite into it. It was small enough for jokes to be heard throughout the stands and yet large enough to feed the electricity being channeled troughout the thriving throngs, craning their necks for a chance to see a goal. We were able to see a goal, always a perk in soccer, and for the celebration one would have thought they had won the world cup.
We left the game and returned home, walking past a fetish mama's hut and the passing crowded buvettes packed with people celbrating life and their nation's birthday. The people here and their attitude toward life is astounding. To be thankful to have so little and to laugh with such gusto. La vie est grande.