2394992 and 1204045508: my weird week in parakou, benin
i'm running on about three hours of sleep and a questionable espresso from a roadside stall, but here i am in parakou, benin, with a camera that's seen better days. i keep staring at these two numbers i scribbled on my wrist earlier: 2394992 and 1204045508. maybe they're codes, maybe they're just the ghosts of deadlines past.
the light here is brutal. i just checked my weather app and it's a sticky 25.5Ā°c that feels like 25.7 thanks to 62% humidity, and my lenses are fogging like i just walked into a sauna. the pressure sits at 1011 mb, whatever that means for my gear. i've taped a *mosquito net over my window, but the generator outside is humming louder than my thoughts.
here's the exact spot i'm camped out (i dragged my tripod over a pothole the size of a small car and almost lost my camera bag):
the town is a maze of adobe walls, kachashi (that's a local millet porridge, you should try it), and the constant buzz of motorbikes. folks here move at a pace that would make a sloth anxious.
i've been hunting for that golden hour, but the sun here doesn't do subtle. around 5 pm it hits everything like a spotlight, turning dust into glitter and making every face look like a sculpted mask. i set up near the market, where the air smells of spices, fried dough, and something metallic i'd rather not identify. i tried to capture a woman balancing a basket of mangoes on her head, her smile wide despite the heat. i shot with a fast lens, f/1.8, to blur the chaos behind her. the photo came out okay, but the humidity gave the colors a weird sheen. still, it's one of those shots that makes you forget the potholes you stepped in to get it.
a local guy, i'll call him yusuf, told me over a warm djembe rhythm that the best jollof in town is at a place called 'che mama', tucked behind the mosque. 'but careful,' he winked, 'they use a lot of palm oil, so you might need a shower after.' i took his advice, and let's just say my stomach is still deciding if it loved it or hated it. if you're curious, check out the yelp page for 'che mama' - it's got some crazy stories. Che Mama on Yelp
speaking of reviews, i overheard a couple of travelers at the internet cafe ranting about the 'hotel with the number 2394992 on its sign'. apparently it's a front for something else? i dunno, i'm too tired to investigate. but i did sleep there one night and the generator died at 3 am, leaving me to bake in my own sweat. not recommended unless you're into that sort of thing.
if you get bored of parakou's dusty charm, there's a border town called malanville about an hour east. cross the river and you're in nigeria's kebbi state, where the vibe shifts from francophone to english in a snap. it's a whole different world, and apparently the road is paved? i can't vouch for that; last time i tried, a goat herd blocked the path for an hour. still, worth the adventure if your motorcycle can handle it.
i also heard whispers about a place called 'the red dunes' a few hours north, near the atakora mountains. someone said it's where the desert starts to kiss the savanna. i tried to get there but my driver (who's also my translator and unofficial bodyguard) said the road was too eroded after the rains. instead we ended up at a village where kids performed a traditional dance with masks. i captured some raw footage that might end up in a short film. if you're into that kind of thing, there's a local board where filmmakers exchange tips: Benin Film Network. i'll post some clips there soon.
the numbers keep haunting me. 1204045508 could be a date? 12/04/2008? i asked a guy at the cybercafe if it was a phone number. he laughed and said it's the code for the 'lucky generator' that sometimes powers the whole street. superstitious folks knock on its metal box before sundown. i'm not sure i believe it, but i did leave an offering of a cold fanta (they don't do coke here, just fanta orange). the generator coughed back to life, so maybe there's something to it.
anyway, i'm packing up my gear. the mosquito net is tucked, the memory cards are full, and i'm nursing a mild sunburn on my left cheek. i'll be heading to cotonou soon to catch a flight out, but i'll miss the rawness of this place. before i go, here's a snapshot of a typical afternoon - the light, the dust, the generator in the background humming its sorry tune.
if you're planning a trip here, my advice: bring more sunscreen than you think, a spare lens because sand gets everywhere, and an open mind. also, learn at least a few words in french*; it'll get you farther than english. and maybe don't trust the guy who sells 'magic' trinkets for 2394992 cfa. he's probably just high.
i've found these resources helpful: TripAdvisor's parakou forum for up-to-date rumors.
hope this ramble helps someone. i'm off to chase the next weird light. maybe i'll see you on the road. - a sleep-deprived photographer with a camera full of dust and two cursed numbers.
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