Moulay Idriss, Volubilis, Meknes and Hassan II

Showcasing the attractions of the Moulay Idriss-Volubilis area.
We should have noted the top left!

Our friend, let's call him Hercule, was kind enough to bring our cat from Douala to Casablanca, when our schools had coinciding breaks in October 2018. There wasn't a seamless overlap, so we decided to make a short trip to Moulay Idriss, a hill town about three hours from Casa.

Moulay Idriss has long been a site of Islamic pilgrimages, and in Morocco five visits to Moulay Idriss are considered to equal one Hajj. Given its sacred status, non-Muslim tourists were barred from staying overnight in the city until 2004. In the short time that has elapsed, many locals have taken on an entrepreneurial spirit and offer to squire visitors around the old medina and towards a number of lookout points from which one may admire the town. One such industrious gentleman convinced our friend to come over for snails and later bought our son some birthday cake with his hard-earned capital.

Arch of Caracalla, constructed in 217 AD in honor of the Roman emperor.

Remains of the basilica.

A few kilometers away from Moulay Idriss is Volubilis / Walili, site of an old Berber then Roman settlement. Founded around 3,000 BC, Volubilis later served as a far-flung outpost of the Roman empire from the 2^nd and 3^rd centuries AD. In the 8^th Century AD the settlement revived, this time under the auspices of conversion to Islam led by Idris I, but the town gradually declined as people moved to his namesake settlement, Moulay Idriss.

The trials of Hercules.

While the mosaics are a bit worn and not particularly well-protected, the expanse of the old settlement was impressive and our guide led us around the grounds pointing out the various living quarters, baths, olive presses (58 have been excavated at the site), aqueduct, gates, etc. There were a few other independent travelers, but also several large tour buses that seemed to be stopping in en route to Fes. Unfortunately, it was only after we left M-I and Volubilis that we learned that there's also a vineyard in the area. Next time!

Moulay Idriss at dusk.

View of the Medersa Idris I mosque.

View from the Kasbah of the market below.

We then spent a morning in Meknes getting new rear tires and checking out the Bab Mansour gate (incorporating columns from the Volubilis ruins) and enjoying some bissara soup (made from fava beans, with copious amounts of olive oil and cumin).

Bab Mansour gate, Meknes.

Meknes's medina.

Hercule explored Fes and we returned to work. Once reunited, we went to the Hassan II mosque, an obligatory stop for those stopping over in Casablanca (not otherwise noted for touristy sights). We happened to have the same tour guide as when we visited in August, and again she efficiently led us through the vast main prayer hall and the ablution areas below. Set right on the ocean, the view is sadly obscured by all the saltwater from waves breaking near the windows of the prayer hall.

The main prayer hall of the Hassan II mosque.

Hassan II is the second largest mosque in the world, with most of the building materials sourced in Morocco (the exception being the glass chandeliers, which come from Murano, Italy. Our guide's  line: "To clean them is problem. You can imagine"). It has the highest minaret in the world, armed with a laser beam that points towards Mecca.

Hassan II mosque.

We then headed towards El Hank to check out the lighthouse. This area was in a state of disrepair, and we speculated that this might be due to anticipated development/eminent domain discouraging the current occupants from investing much in their property. El Hank afforded a nice view of the mosque in the distance, although we didn't detect any restaurants or other establishments, and didn't feel like going down to the Corniche/Morocco Mall area.

View of the Hassan II mosque from El Hank.

The lighthouse of El Hank.

Arik to Benin (eventually)

The title refers both to our transport and my overdue posts – our holiday was in December 2016-January 2017.

Note the original departure time at right. Meanwhile, we
boarded some three hours after we were to take off.

Travel within central and west Africa can be very expensive, so we were glad to find some pretty cheap return tickets from Douala to Cotonou with Arik Air.

Shortly before travelling, though, Blair broke her arm so we did inquire about cancellations. Since none were possible, we decided to forge ahead with the trip and try to minimize our use of zemidjans (motorbikes – the main form of public transport).

Cathedral Notre Dame des Apotres in downtown Cotonou.

The day of our flight I received a call saying that our flight to Cotonou had been delayed by two days. She asked if we wanted to keep our original return date or push it back to maximize our time in Benin. We elected to adjust our stay, and the Arik representative signed off with “Greetings to madame.”

Once at the Douala airport, I called the Arik representative back to see about checking in for the 3:45 PM flight. She said the ground crew was coming soon (it was 3 PM), so we gave them a few minutes. After check-in we headed to the bar with two fellow travelers - a PCV-Cameroon who had recently finished his service, and a Cameroonian PE teacher.

La Beninoise: the national beer.

We ended up having a couple of hours to get to know our new friends. The PCV was based in Batibo, the palm wine capital of Cameroon which, lamentably, we never got around to seeing. The PE teacher was on his way to Mali to meet up with his brother. So he was going to get a bus direct to Bamako (via Burkina Faso) from Cotonou since the flight was so much cheaper than any to Ouagadougou or Bamako. From there he and his brother were going to travel to Guinea, where their grandfather used to run the National Library after he had to leave Cameroon for being a Communist (and was taken in by Sekou Toure).

Our flight eventually left around 6 PM, and we proceeded to the rather laid-back Beninois immigration upon landing. Blair was ahead of me and the immigration officer asked her what happened to her arm. Her colleague in the next booth began pointing/scolding and laughing, saying, “C'est ton papa!” (“It was your dad! [i.e. husband]”) After concluding the round of joking denials and accusations, we got a taxi to the rather nice Hotel du Lac on the lagoon leading out to sea.

[For the record, an unfortunate Holiday Show accident was to blame.]

No Littering sign on the beach in Cotonou.

While we didn't stay very long in Cotonou, a few things did stand out to us. First of all, the Beninois are very well-dressed. While this is not out of the ordinary for the region, what struck us was that most people used local fabric (well, with locally inspired designs at least) for their clothing. There were also a lot of men wearing complets – shirts and trousers in the same fabric. Mono-chromatic Western-style clothing was much less common than say in Douala.

Beach in Cotonou.

A big difference with Douala was the fact that almost every motorcyclist had a helmet. Apparently it's the law in Benin, and to keep up appearances most people wear one (although the strap is rarely buckled). Enforcement of this practice was non-existent outside the capital so there were far fewer helmets there. The near total reliance on zemidjans meant that we did have to ride them more than expected, although there were a couple of taxis based near our hotel and the excellent Benin: Other Places Travel Guide (written by PCVs) listed drivers that could be hired around town and for longer trips.

At an eponymous bar.

There weren't a great many sights in Cotonou, although we enjoyed some beers by the beach and also checked out a Keith Haring exhibit at Fondation Zinsou's Cotonou branch at the end of our stay and enjoyed walking around town. A craft center in town was somewhat uninspiring, especially since I couldn't find a decent Benin national team jersey (they are the Squirrels!).

Part of the Keith Haring exhibition.

At the end of our trip it was time to revisit Arik Air. We got to the airport an hour or so before takeoff so we checked in and then I asked if we had time to go get lunch (like Douala's, the Cotonou airport is quite close to a residential area with restaurants around). We had time – the plane hadn't left Lagos yet.

We returned a couple of hours later to discover that most of the ground staff had disappeared. The flight had not left, and we proceeded to the gate to find out more from the other passengers. We were glad that we'd changed our flight from December 31 to January 3, as the 12/31 flight was completely canceled! One waiting passenger's visa had expired (she was scheduled to leave on the 31^st), while others shared their previous challenging experiences with Arik Air. Once Arik's ground attendants arrived, they were berated over the reason for the delay (it's beggared belief that a Nigerian airplane could be grounded in Lagos due to lack of fuel!).

More from the Keith Haring exhibition.

We were eventually shunted to a defunct duty free shop where we were given styrofoam containers of chicken and rice, as well as a soft drink, for our troubles. We passed the next few hours listening to our fellow passengers share war stories about flying with Arik, as well as ASKY, which sometimes leaves early before partner flights arrive.

The time in between flights was wonderful, and I'll try to do justice to how great a destination Benin is in subsequent posts.

At Fondation Zinsou, Cotonou.

FADAM!

While in Buea for a wedding and climbing Mt. Cameroon, we saw a billboard advertising FADAM – Festival Africain des Arts Martiaux – with Jackie Chan depicted and listed as being in attendance, as well as Dominique Saatenang (“The African Bruce Lee”). It sounded like the event would be held in Limbe, so we decided to try to find out more.

I spent some time trying to track down confirmation that Jackie Chan was coming to Cameroon, stumbling upon blog posts parsing these claims/rumours. Further rooting around suggested that in addition to Jackie Chan, Gerard Depardieu would be coming to the African Festival of Martial Arts.

“Invités” means both guests and invitees, which is a little confusing.

Happily, it turned out FADAM was also coming to Douala so we went to check it out with a couple of friends. It was presented on an outdoor stage of the new Canal Olympia Bessengue cinema, right next to the train station.

Dominique Saatenang welcoming FADAM participants.

Overall, we really enjoyed the event. There were of course some quintessentially Central/West African event characteristics. These included the starting time (delayed by only an hour or so due to setup and then waiting for the arrival of the governor of Littoral Region), the audio equipment exposed to the coming storm, and a vociferous audience members yelling “Kill him!” in French during the martial arts demonstrations. And of course Jackie Chan joined us via video greeting, which was first played without images. No sign of Depardieu!

Jackie Chan sends his regrets.

The martial artists were great. They were from all over the world (besides the Shaolin monks, the Croatians were a big winner with their slow-motion demonstration that morphed into real time), but the highlight was the Cameroonian contingent.

While they probably weren't as experienced as the visitors from abroad, it was great to see them given a platform in their own country, and there was a wide range of ages, as well as many young girls taking part.

Dominique Saatenang was very encouraging (he provided the commentary throughout) and the audience was generally respectful (although disappointed by the lack of evident violence in the Tai Chi presentation). He did a great job supporting these small, independent martial arts schools.

Getting some shelter once the rain started.

At the end of the night all of the performers assembled to take a bow, Saatenang began singing in Chinese with a Cameroonian woman (she sang in French). A Cameroonian friend of ours who worked in China for several years was able to help us translate. According to her summary, Saatenang sang that he was a Bamileké from Cameroon and he loves living in China, where he became a Shaolin monk. (It should be noted that the Shaolin monks left the stage promptly once the music started.)

Dominique Saatenang, crooner.

Visit to Mangroves and Ebikoro

Leaving Youpwe behind.

Fishermen off Youpwe.

As part of advance scouting for a school field trip, we got together a group of friends to visit the mangroves south of Douala off Youpwe. While we've checked out the Youpwe fish market, watched ship-breaking, and seen the (fish and lumber) catches coming in, this was our first boating excursion to learn about the mangroves and fishing villages.

Mangroves creeping down to take root.

The trip was organized through Doual'Art, an organization based in the Bonanjo neighbourhood which hosts art exhibitions. We were ably guided by Caroline, our pilot Oscar, Yves (who works for Doual'Art), and a first mate whose duties included bailing water out of the pirogue periodically.

More mangroves!

Caroline informed us that there were in fact several villages on islands in the mangroves, generally populated by non-Cameroonians – principally Nigerians and Ghanaians. While habitat destruction wasa problem, with people cutting down portions of the mangroves for firewood, there are also initiatives aimed at replanting mangroves – and some experts on this may be joining Blair's 3^rd grade class for their field trip!

After a few minutes we were far removed from the hustle and bustle of Douala, and even spotted a few monkeys (including Putty-Nosed Mangabeys) and saw a snake swimming through the water.

Approaching Ebikoro village.

Since mangroves provide sanctuary to fish, as well as protect the shoreline from erosion, there was certainly a lot of fishing happening. We visited the village of Ebikoro, another area where Nigerians have put down roots (see Batete in Equatorial Guinea). Ebikoro is solely populated by Nigerians. We had an audience with the chief, Mr. Frank, who came to Cameroon as a child in 1957.

Church and blackboard in Ebikoro.

The chief's pirogue.

Despite their long-standing residency, the villagers exist in a kind of purgatory – subject to Cameroonian law and the whims of officials, but without the right to appeal for services from the state. Children born in Cameroon are not considered citizens of the country if their parents are born outside Cameroon, and many villagers pay for renewals of residence permits in perpetuity. The chief explained that Cameroonian bureaucrats frequently come to Ebikoro to solicit fees.

Mangrove reflections!

Meanwhile the village provides all its infrastructure. This includes wooden walkways along the main path of the village (to account for high tide) and an electric generator. All food and drink, including water, is brought by motorized pirogues from Youpwe. While there seemed to be a nursery school in the church, older students travel to Douala for school, and many of the older ones board with friends or family. Given their uncertain status, many “return” to Nigeria for schooling. Indeed many members of Mr. Frank's family are based in Nigeria. Ebikoro is fully specialized – they sell fresh and smoked fish in exchange for all their material needs.

Meeting with Mr. Frank (right). The pirogue pilot Oscar is seated to his right.

Local ordinances of Ebikoro.

On our way away from the village, we stopped so the first mate could buy some fish (sole and bar) from a fisherwoman and her daughter. According to Caroline and Oscar, the women of Ebikoro do the vast majority of the fishing, while their (generally polygamous) husbands take 10% of the proceeds. This represented a novel approach to me because, while it is often women who do the bulk of the work, paid work or jobs with cash crops generally are men's remit (thanks to colonial attitudes that made men the interlocutors with Europeans interested in paying, trading or otherwise filching goods and services).

Fisherwoman bargaining over some of her catch as we departed Ebikoro.

The excursion was thoroughly enjoyable and eye-opening. It was interesting to learn about how the people in Ebikoro lived in a somewhat isolated area with no government services. It was thought-provoking in that the mangroves sustain and support a few different villages, not to mention fisherman from Douala proper, but the environment is under strain. If the Cameroonian government had a more enlightened relationship with these (somewhat) far-flung people, perhaps they could create a more sustainable living arrangement for them and their environment.

We passed sections of the port as we made our way back to Youpwe.

As we reached the dock in Youpwe, we encountered a large pirogue/pinasse headed for a more substantial village in the mangroves, in what's called Douala's 6ieme arrondisement. The boat was filled up with rice, drinks, families, electronics, and sundry other merchandise for supporting a community off the shore of Douala.

Hopefully there will be a follow-up post with more information on the mangroves, as the field trip should also feature a university researcher who works on mangrove preservation in Cameroon!