Location: Benin (Voodoo heartland).
The chicken gave a final jolt as his neck was cranked back and his throat slit with the razor blade. His blood poured into the mouth of the Vodun divinity, a dark spirit imprisoned in stone. The feathers were plucked and cast upon on the sacred ground below, while the men of the forest whispered words unknown. To complete the ritual, the worshipers doused the shrine in a fiery brew – delicious West African hot sauce!
We were very lucky to bear witness to such a ceremony. To the very few travelers who do find themselves on the shores of Lake Aheme, the Voodoo practices of the locals remain shrouded in mystery.
They say one should make a sacrifice to the divinity if one has received good fortune, to give thanks. Those who don’t, are cursed.
This makes an appropriate preface to what happened me last night. I rolled the dice once to often, I took too much. Perhaps my Karmic balance was a little off kelter; I got some bad juju. Either way, I took too many chances, and eventually my cheeky antics landed me in some seriously deep shit. Literally…
Last night in the capital, Cotonou…
4AM – KNOCK KNOCK!
I awake from my slumber. The hottie beside me wraps her naked bronze body in a towel and gets up to answer the door. It’s her room mate – and she’s not happy. Outside the two start talking. It’s hard to make out the pidgin French, but I hear money mentioned. I start putting on my clothes, sensing something fishy.
My girls comes into the bathroom. “Give me some money.”. She demands.
Context- I exchanged numbers with this girl outside a club one night. This girl had been texting me love messages for three days. She knew I didn’t P4P. We went out, shared a bottle of wine and ended up at her place. I only had taxi fare in my pocket.
It was a set up.
I brought the girl outside the front door to discuss the issue. She told me her room mate wanted money for the room. She fed me so much BS my head was spinning. When I told her NO … I was informed her room mate and the guys in the building were going to “make problem” for me now. I thought fast.
Me: “OK, I don’t want problem”.
I completely change the subject, start patting down my trousers and look alarmed.
Me: “Hey, where’s my bandanna?”
Her: “It must be in the room..” (it was actually in my back pocket.)
Me: “Do you mind getting it for me?”
She turns and enters the room.
I tip top backward, turn around and F*#KING LEG IT!!!
My ill-fated escape is best described in poetry form…
I turn at the chance, and I run, run run…
I dash and I dart through the labyrinth slum.
The Voodoo dolls screeched and the moto men grunted,
The chase had begun and I was the hunted.
In the darkness I flea, I scramble in vain,
I round random corners, I take random lanes.
I climb a dirt mound, then soon disappear..
as I fall from the edge, and plunge to Lake Merde.
(aka – a third world sewege pit)
Deep in the sludge, grizzle and grit,
every last inch of me covered in shit.
I wade in the waste and flounder in feces,
seething with insects and sickening species.
I slunk on the shore, but time I had none,
So I take to the streets and I run, run, run…
Brilliant! What date you due home???
@Killian: Actually hitting up sunny beach for a few days if you want to fly out.. there from the 8th the 12th then flying home.
Nice little poem at the end!
But your little tale reminds us all of one age-old truism which is sex is never free dude (and never will be). Men always pay for it, the only question is how quickly the bill comes, and whether the consideration due is in purely monetary terms, or whether more elaborate forms of payment are required (a house, a car, a dog, a marriage, children … you get the picture).
Eww… hope you didn’t catch Ebola or some other crap in that pool of shit!!
Your writing gets ever more poetic – there must be something in the west african weed.
Would love to read the story of yours firing the rocket launcher.
so what happened? did you get away? did you have to go to a doctor to get checked up? That could contain some serious nasty viruses or something.
Got away unharmed… as far as I know!
Love your site man,
Been reading it for the past few months,
Your writing keeps getting better, and the places you go to are indeed “off the beaten track “.
Keep it up,
Eww, I hope you washed yourself well!
You basically swam through sewage, now thats a crazy experience!
The worst I ever had was get my legs dirty in sewage when trying to fish cricket balls out of the drainage back when I was a young kid in India!
Loved it !! Haha !
Funny as hell !
Nothing is less passive than the act of fleeing, of exiting. Defection modifies the conditions within which the struggle takes place, rather than presupposing those conditions to be an unalterable horizon;
Paolo Virno – 2003