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Today, we visited one of the most curious places in Western Africa, a village entirely built on water, on Lake Nokoue. The residents don?t walk from house to house; they use their canoes. They prop it with a stick, exactly like we use our cars in the suburbs. Difference: they can?t jog, we can.

The village was built by King Agbogboe in 1717, a few years after his father, Adjagnifende, leading his army and his people, chased by the Nigerians, observed a strategic retreat on the lake, where it would be extremely difficult for the enemies to maneuver.

Ganvie (that is the village?s name) is a popular attraction. It finds a spot in all brochures about Dahomey/Benin. The huts are built over an area of 150 sq km.; they are kept up on un-putrefiable beams made from ebony, inoko, and palm trees.

Ganvie has everything (almost): schools, restaurants, a church, a palace for the king, a nearby soccer field, etc. Are missing a movie theater and some green space for the teenagers to interact. However, this does not alter reproduction, since in Ganvie, birth and polygamy rates are among the highest in the country.

Raphael is the leader of Ganvie. It does not hold any official title, but at the entrance of the village, one must row around his sign ?Stop, at Raphael?s?. He owns a pink wooden building that accommodates a souvenir shop, a restaurant, and a 1/2-star hotel (two-room).

The restaurant is managed by a fleshy, voluptuous, innocent daughter of his: Angeline.

She fed us, and sold us for more we were willing to spend. Angeline?s dream is to come to the States. She shows her shiny bright smile when she talks of visiting the Big Apple, maybe, one day?

To assess the measure of her innocence, I asked Angeline, where, among all these open houses, on the water, populated by such a dense population, can she enjoy enough privacy to kiss a boy-friend, for example.

She looked at me, thinking of all the babies around, as though I was an idiot from another planet.

Okay, I am an idiot from another world, far, far away, from across the Atlantic. And, I had never seen before, happy children going to school in canoe, on a Friday, while lunching on baked fish?

(The Traveller, Friday, November 29, 2002)

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