I could write a small book about the trip but don't have time...you guys are reading the short version.

22 December 1999

I'm a total wreck, it must be the Larium! Emory and his wife have
arrived from N.C. to baby-sit my dogs. He always covers my ass
when I'm traveling...I manage to back into his new SUV and tear the
bumper off....my car suffered the worse damage...he tells me to
relax, not to worry about it, and get on with the trip. My mind is going
one hundred miles an hour...reviewing my 'things to pack list'
knowing I'm going to forget something.

T.C. picked me up for the drive to Orlando International...we chit chat
about Africa and the possibilities the trip offers. He wishes me luck
and I enter the airport. I'm all hyped up not knowing how the journey
will play out. I grab some pizza and sit with two fellow travelers, we
talk about our destinations...I depart to Detroit. The flight was fast,
everyone in the Detroit airport seemed to be suffering from the flu...I
depart to Amsterdam. Again everyone seems to be sick on the flight.
I'm pissed thinking I'll have the flu before I get to Benin....off to Paris
then Ivory Coast.

I feel like I've been traveling for a week. I've made a commitment to
myself that no matter what happens, I'm going to have a good time!
I've accomplished every goal I dreamed about as a child except
visiting Africa..now it's about to happen. I can't describe the joy, the
excitement, the anxiety.

Several months before leaving Fred called wanting to know why I
didn't tell him about the trip. He wanted to go. We've shared more
adventures than I can recall...I'm thinking about the time we snuck
into a chimp cage at Silver Springs and couldn't get out for what
seemed like hours..Ellie (the chimp) didn't want us to leave and when
we tried, she'd try to escape, go into a temper tantrum, and threaten
us with glaring, huge teeth! .....we were terrified but laughing...all we
could think about was Ellie escaping and us having to explain why we
were in the cage. The good old days.

Fred acknowledges that it's a trip I must take alone....to find out what
is drawing me to the continent. He flies down a couple weeks before
I leave, with his girlfriend, to tell me to kick ass in Africa.

Rohan, one of my French tutors, tells me to live it for all the people
who will never make the trip. She knows of my plans to film and
thinks I should share it with the world. I'll try.

23 December 1999

My first step on African soil was in Abidjan...we weren't supposed to
leave the plane, just pick-up passengers and fly out...they asked us
to leave all carry-on baggage and proceed to the terminal..... soldiers
are everywhere and seemed to be watching us very closely. We
were detained for about an hour while the soldiers inspected our
documents. I was one of three white men in the entire airport. I
wandered around and joined a group of young African men who were
upset about something...they spoke French but were patient with my
questions...I later learned Ivory Coast was in the beginning of a
military coup! I couldn't have arrived at a better time. This was just
the beginning of my adventures....the airport closed shortly after our
plane took off.

Off to Benin....I step off the plane in Cotonou and inhale deeply
taking in the scents of this new land. I feel like screaming, yelling and
rolling in the dirt...I'm SO HAPPY...30 hours and more than 10,000
miles to reach my dream.

Upon entering the airport I'm besieged by French speaking
Beninese taxi drivers vying for my business. I'm overwhelmed and
don't understand a word they're saying...I just smile and push them
away. A man grabs my backpack and tries to walk off, I grab him and
say no! He stands next to me and insists on carrying my bags to
customs. I relent wondering how I'm going to tip him without CFA
(Benin money). Another man asks if I'm Jack..it's Simon, and I'm
glad to see him. He rushes me through customs, introduces me to
Ignace and off we go.

They take me to a Chinese restaurant, we pound a few beers and
talk about the reptile business. Both Ignace and Simon are exactly as
I pictured them. We head to a hotel, get a room, talk for an hour and
make plans for the next day. It's nearly midnight and I'm exhausted,
having slept only an hour or two in the past 24 hours. Ignace invites
me to stay with his family for the rest of the visit. How cool, being
able to live with an African family while I explore their country. I
accept. Ignace and Simon go home.

24 December 1999

I wake up about 7:00am, look out the window and see a guy urinating
on the roadside. People are everywhere...I feel like a kid on
Christmas day. Benin is one huge present and I can't wait to open it!
I shower and head out the door to wander the streets before Simon
arrives. I'm the only white guy in sight but feel very comfortable. A
street vendor is selling beans and meat but I don't have CFA
money...I'm hungry though. Everyone seems friendly.

Simon picks me up at 10:30am, we buy some French bread, water
and beer, then head to Ignaces' house. Cotonou seems like a huge
flea market with vendors selling their wares from handmade shacks
built from every imaginable material including palm thatch and
bamboo. I later learn jobs are scarce and the only way to survive is
by selling SOMETHING.

Ignace has a beautiful home and from the looks of things he's in the
upper-class of Benin society. I'm introduced to his wife and four
children. He escorts me to my bedroom, it's in the rear of the home
and offers a great deal of privacy.

His home has no running water, toilets or cooking accommodations. I
bathe by drawing water from a well, use an outhouse, and all cooking
is done over an open fire or charred wood. Clothes are hand
washed.

We head to town and exchange my travelers checks and cash for
CFA. Ignace stops to take care of personal business and several art
vendors approach the car trying to sell me wood carvings...some
was poor quality, some was very nice. I buy a few pieces and we
head out. Ignace says we'll visit Ouida and walk the slave route after
visiting his snake farm. We never made it to Ouida this day.

I notice each village has voodoo deities at the entrances. We
photograph them and Ignace tells me they protect the villages from
evil spirits of the night.

His snake farm is located in a remote village down a long dirt road.
The local children scream Yovo!, Yovo!, when they see me. Ignace
says it means 'white man'. Yovo(sp?) will be a term I'll hear
frequently as we travel the country.

There weren't any snakes at the farm, the facility is used to house
gravid females and collect the eggs. The eggs are incubated and the
babies are shipped around the world for the pet trade.

The local villagers give us some Kola nuts. They give you a caffeine
type buzz and reportedly cause mild hallucinations. I chomp a few
down..they're bitter but the effect is good. Kola nuts become a daily
ritual.....

Locals start to gather, wondering what this Yovo is doing in their
village. I get them to sing with me..they all laugh but join in...
everyone seems to be so happy and friendly. Although they're poor,
they don't seem to have any stress.

We head to the river to make arrangements to visit the stilt villages of
Ganvie on the 26th. The guide offers to take us on a quick tour of a
remote stilt village rarely visited by tourists. Many villagers get upset
that I film...Ignace pays them and they treat me like a king....show me
how they make pottery...village elder woman gives me blessings of
love when I leave. The village is primitive but the people seem very
content. Children scream 'Yovo', some runaway crying when they
see me....We head home to prepare for Christmas and spend the
night listening to music and dancing.

Constance butchers the chickens that were running around the yard.

Ignace and I drive to Cotonou, around midnight, to do last minute
shopping. Cotonou never sleeps.

25 December 1999

Christmas day we celebrate with a feast of chicken and local food
and drink African gin (made from palm tree sap). I'm introduced to
Christian and he agrees to be my interpreter. He's a Togolese
political refuge, has his masters degree, and has his eye on the
Presidency of Togo. We spend a lot of time talking politics.

As the day progresses we sing, dance, laugh and feast. Ignace says
he's surprised at how humble I am and the way I accept Africa....I
have melted into the local population and walk anywhere, anytime,
alone. I feel very safe.
Merry Christmas...I pass out.

26 December 1999

Off to visit the stilt villages of Ganvie....Ganvie and the surrounding
stilt villages were established hundreds of years ago to escape tribal
warfare and slave traders. Ignace tells me the people built the
villages to escape the Dutch slave traders.

The people of Ganvie seem to be suspicious of Yovo and don’t
appreciate having their pictures taken. Uniformed people will tell you
it’s because of religious beliefs. That is bullshit! I asked the locals
and they said it’s because ‘Yovo’ comes into their villages,
disrespects their privacy and profits from the film. I agree.

The children approach me singing, dancing, doing head stands and
asking for gifts. Anyway you look at it, Yovo means profit....money for
goods, supplies and food. Unfortunately, I spent all my money on
Voodoo art. I pay a young girl with a first aid kit for dancing. The
villagers seem happy.

I ask our boat captain about West African manatees, he says the
locals have eaten most of them but he still sees them on occasion.

Ignace tells me they get baby Nile monitors from this area. The
adults are probably eaten by the local population.

27 December 1999

Off to Park Pendjari, it's a 12 hour trip bringing us through the heart
of Benin. We stop in Parakou to gas up. The town seems to have a
large population of Muslims and is full of beggars, amputees and
assorted characters. The amputees work the sympathy emotion in an
attempt to get money. I feel bad for them but my budget is tight.
Besides, I see other disabled people selling products and working to
survive. I'd rather support the working person. A 'blind' Muslim man,
lead by a child, walks to the car begging for money and I ignore him.
I watch as they leave and see him pointing to other potential suckers.
The child again 'leads' the way. The man is hardly blind but is a slick
con-man. Hahaha.

We cruise through Natitingou and on to Tanguieta, buy kola nuts, and
head to Park Pendjari. At the entrance we meet local children...it’s
my first view of starvation....some of the children have extended
bellies. I feel bad. What can I do but support their local economy?

We pay the admission fees, hire a guide and start into the park. The
landscape is hilly and dry. The park staff, light fires on the roadside
to burn down the underbrush so visitors can see the wildlife. The
‘new’ vegetation provides grazing opportunities for the animals,
which in turn draws the animals to the roadside for viewing by the
tourists.

The guide tells us Benin is opening the park perimeter to hunting of
lions and elephants. The country needs the money from permits.

The car only has enough gas to get us back to Tanguieta. We make
arrangements to tour the park, in the morning, with some Italian
travelers. Their Land Rover doesn't have enough room for us all so
Christian offers to stay at the hotel so Ignace and I can tour the park.

We also meet a group of Peace Corp workers...they don't like me
photographing them.

28 December 1999

We see crocs, an elephant...hippos...water buffalo, etc. Very cool
but I wasn’t there to see wildlife....this trip was about culture......drive
back to Natitingou and get a hotel room.

29 December 1999

Off to see the Sombas....We stay with Adolph Biaou owner of hotel
Auberge Nekima in Natitingou, Adolph makes arrangements for us to
meet a Somba chief and tour his home. We meet the chief on the roadside
and drive to his village. Somba people don't normally allow visitors to
their homes. They open their home to me only because I am staying
with the Biaou, who is also a Somba.

Their homes, known as Somba tatas, are constructed from mud and
palm thatch and have one entrance at the ground level. Animals are
kept in the 'basement'. We climb a log ladder to the roof where they
have tobacco and various vegetable laying in the sun to dry . Around
the perimeter are small rooms used for cooking, storing grain and
sleeping. The chief allows me to access to any room I want. I film it
all. Then he introduces me to his family. We snap a few pictures with
the digital camera and let them see the pics via digital display. They
laugh.

We move downstairs, head out the door, and I'm introduced to the
village grandmother. I try to shake her hand but she says no and
explains she's dirty. I laugh and tell her no problem. We hold hands
and smile at each other. The chief asks me to STAY with them as
long as I want. I accept and tell him I'll return in a year or so to stay
for a few weeks. ...we try to arrange a deal for authentic Somba
knives, bows, arrows and pipes....but the chief says NO...they would
not sell their heritage...I hang-out, we drink homemade beer....a deal
is worked...I walk away from Somba country with 3 bows, arrows and
quiver sets, a hunting knife, smoking pipe and ax....they are
priceless. Ignace and Christian are surprised that I was able to
obtain them.

Adolph has us to dinner to celebrate my birthday and the New Year...
he takes us to the local waterfalls and Museum of History. I ask the
Colonel why the people of Benin treat me so well. He said it's because
I opened my heart to them and their culture so they want to share with me.

He went on to say that he's rarely greeted by tourists. Most tourists,
he explains, come to Benin, view the sites, and have little interest in
the local cultures. They're happy I'm interested in their way of life.
Biou turns out to be a wonderful friend. I hope to visit him
again.

30 December 1999

Off to Cotonou..we stop to buy vegetables and a goat for the New
Years day celebration. We also visit some villagers that hunt snakes
and other reptiles for Ignace and Simon. They have collected quite a
few animals for a shipment going out after the New Year.

When we arrive at Ignaces', I try to email an update to Jesse but the
email won't go through....I can't read the French error messages.
Christian tries to help, but sees I'm pissed and goes outside. I'm
totally frustrated as I know tons of people are waiting to hear from
me. I wish my friends and family could be here, they'd love the
adventure.

31 December 2000

New Years eve in Africa....I love it! Everyone is preparing for the
celebration.

We take the goat to Ignaces' uncles house to have it butchered.
They slit its throat to collect the blood, the goat dies very slowly while
we drink African gin and beer. The hair is burned off, the goat
butchered and we're on our way.

New Years eve is interesting in Benin. The families gather together at
11:00pm, read the bible, and discuss problems within the family unit.
Resolve the problems and determine what they're going to do to
make the New Year better, happier, and more productive. They
allow me to film what I think is the most intimate family gathering I
have ever witnessed. They are open and honest amongst each
other...it was very touching and personal in nature. The footage, in
my humble opinion, is to personal to share with the world. It's one of
those moments, I feel, that outsiders should not be allowed to see.
At midnight we prayed.

About 10 minutes after midnight we went outside with the children.
The kids lit sparklers, throwing them in the air and laughing....Ignace
told me to relax, "the party will start soon, you'll see". About 30
minutes later people started gathering in Ignaces' yard and the party
began. Once again, we sang, danced, laughed and celebrated all
night. I crashed at 4:00am but the rest of the crowd headed down the
street. I had a blast!

1 January 2000

Happy birthday Colleen, I love you.

Everyone is hung-over today. Constance, Ignaces' wife, has been
cooking dinner since I woke up. I don't think she slept. Simon and
Christian join us for dinner. The goat was great, dinner was great, the
drinks and company were great. Happy birthday to myself.

I call Tim and Colleen to let them know everything is good.

Christian invites me to talk with the University students as a
representative of the U.S. I'm honored but don't accept...I had no
plans to get involved in politics...I don't have the time.

We spend the rest of the day relaxing.

2 January 2000

Simon and Christian take me to Ouida to walk the slave trail. We're
joined by Nicholas, Ignaces' relative.

Nicholas lives with Ignace, helping around the home while he waits
for a VISA to Italy. He can't find employment in Benin. Nicholas
seems to be responsible for my well-being. He washes my cloths,
fetches water for my bucket baths and tries to follow me when I
leave Ignaces' property.

While we don't speak the same language, we communicate just fine
and find ourselves joking all the time. It turns out to be one of those
unspoken friendships that breaks all language barriers. I try to teach
him English, he tries to teach me French. I feel comfortable with
Nicholas at my side. It's hard to explain...it's kind of like he watches
my back and keeps me out of trouble. Christian and Simon do the
same.

Nothing could prepare me for this day!

Ouida is a small coastal town in Benin famous for its slave trading
activity. The short story is: The King of Dahomey would raid
neighboring villages and capture people to sell into slavery. The
captives were held in Ouida under deplorable conditions. Half would
die before the slave ships arrived. Of the ones that made it to the
slave ships, half of them would die before arriving in the Americas.

Christian guides us to the slave trail. He was here just a few months
ago with the production company Black Side, to film a segment on
African slavery. I tell Simon to stop the car, I want to walk the trail. I
want to film it for my friends and all the people that can't come here. I
want to feel the emotions of walking the same route that more than
one million human beings walked only a century ago, into a life of
slavery.

It's hot, I'm sweating...we stop at the various monuments erected by
Beninese artists in memory of the slaves. I film a voodoo deity and a
local woman starts screaming and yelling at us. Christian tells her I
didn't photograph it. We move on....

We reach the Tree of Return. Reportedly, the slaves circled this tree
three times to ensure their soul would return to Benin after death. We
met a man who asked if we'd like to walk the 'real' trail. We said yes
and headed down a narrow path to an enclosed slave memorial. He
explains the significance of the memorial and lead us to several
others. Christian comments that Black Side productions didn't even
film the true slave trail. He's shocked but happy that we are on the
right trail.

Eventually, we arrive at the trail leading to the beach and the Point of
No Return Memorial. Simon and Christian decide to drive the car to
the beach while Nicholas and I walk the trail. I turn on the camera to
film my reaction to this trek. Up until now I found the trail interesting
but not the feeling I was expecting.

We started walking past the lagoons and down the trail. Everything
was quiet, I could here the birds singing and the sound of my foot
steps. I began to think about the friends I'd met in Benin. The
Colonel, Ignace, Simon and their families, Christian, Nicholas and the
Somba people. The villagers of Ganvie. My family, my brothers and
sisters, father and mother. All the friends who'd stood by me through
the tough times. The women of my life, my lovers, my friends.

I thought about how lucky we were not to be living in the slave trade
days. Would Ignace, Simon and I be slaver traders instead of reptile
traders? Would the Dahomey Kingdom have captured one of my
loved ones? What would I have done? It could have been you, or I,
or one of our loved ones.

This trek becomes a reckoning, a time for me to face all the evils of
humanity, all the horrible things we do to each other without thought
or consequence.

I can hardly talk into the camera. I glance at Nicholas, he knows I'm
feeling it, he knows I'm feeling the pain of his ancestors. He tries to
smile but looks away. The hike seems to last for hours. We walk in
silence through the Point of No Return and onto the beach. Nicholas
and I are both silent. The waves crash onto the shoreline....I feel like
I just walked through hell.

We meet Simon and Christian at the memorial and leave for lunch.
We follow the coast back to Cotonou stopping for lunch along the
way. Christian admires our waitress and asks her for a date. She
accepts and we kid with Christian back at the car. He says he wants
to marry her. Uh huh.

I notice the beaches are starting to fill with locals and tourists alike. It
seems the beaches don't come to life until later in the afternoon.

Benin's beaches are beautiful. Lined with palm trees and deserted
for the most part. I can't help but think Benin is an undiscovered
tourist location. Ignace and I will have many conversations
concerning the idea of bringing American tourists to Benin. Allow
them to discover what I've found. It's paradise for the adventure
bound. We plan to bring organized tours to the country.

As we're driving through Cotonou, Simon pulls off the road
announcing we're at the High Voodoo Priests' home. I grab my video
camera and we head to the door.

A young man allows us in and Simon begins speaking in an African
language I don't understand. Eventually, another man comes out and
introduces himself...Christian tells me he's the High Priest of
Voodoo. Christian explain to the man that I'm looking for a particular
voodoo fetish that offers protection. You can't buy true voodoo art
unless the priest believes you're sincere in your request for
protection. Unbeknownst to me, the priest offers to perform a
voodoo ceremony to give me the power of protection from the evil
spirits and says I can pick up the deities the following day.

The priest performs a small ceremony in his home alter, introduces
me to his father, the former high priest, and invites us to a ceremony
he's about to perform outside of Cotonou. We accept, pile into the
car and head off to film a true, secret voodoo society ceremony.
Way cool!

The ceremony is performed in an outdoor covered pavilion. The
priest informs his congregation of my intentions to film and my
request to seek the powers of protection. The congregation is mainly
women and children, with the men playing drums. I notice the drum
sticks are made from animal penises.

The ceremony last for about two hours. Everyone takes turns
dancing. As the drum beat increases two women eventually fall into a
trance like state, reminding me of Christians as they become 'full of
the spirit'....The truth is, I didn't find anything bizarre about the
ceremony. It was typical, not unlike any of the other religious
ceremonies I'd witnessed in my life. Certainly unlike Hollywood
producers would have you believe. I felt comfortable.

The priest ends the ceremony by telling the congregation to use the
spirits for good intentions.

We’re tired from Ouida and the voodoo ceremony....head back to
Ignaces’ house and relax for the night. It’s at this time Christian
explains that the ceremony was offered for my protection.

3 January 2000

Simon, Christian, Nicholas and I drive to Abomey to visit the Royal
Palace of the King of Dahomey in an attempt to interview the King
about his views on African Americans and slavery. To my
knowledge, nobody has ever publicly interviewed the King about his
views on slavery and/or African Americans. We arrive unannounced,
with no expectations....it’s an adventure for all of us.

Before I traveled to Benin several people told me:

1. I’d never get an interview with the King.

2. If I did get an interview, not to ask about slavery because it was a
touchy subject.

My thought? Give me a break! If I’m going to travel all the way to
Abomey and get the opportunity to meet the King...you can bet your
ass I’m going to ask about slavery. The Dahomey kings were the
most powerful slave traders in Africa. I saw Henry L. Gates Jr. meet
the King on a PBS presentation about Africa. He, in my opinion,
acted scared and didn’t take the opportunity to ask the King anything.
He blew a perfect opportunity, as an African American, to ask the
King for his views on slavery. I thought Gates acted like a frightened
child.

We toured the palace as our guide made arrangements for us to
meet the King. We were told the King would arrive at 11:00am for
the interview. I was freaking out...I mean, you just don’t go to
Abomey and get to interview the King. Particularly an average
American guy with no political ties....the King wouldn’t benefit, in
anyway, by meeting me.

To make a long story short, the King didn’t arrive until 4:00pm....it
was an afternoon of cat and mouse, trying to find the King. We ate a
lunch of bush rat and rice...and made one last attempt to get the
interview. We ended up going to his house for the forth or fifth time
asking when he’ll be at the palace. Finally, the King and his
entourage climbed into a vehicle and drove to the palace.

Our guide introduced us....the King seemed nervous, particularly
when my interpreter told him I had some tough questions.

I spoke through Christian, my interpreter, asking the King how he
came to power, what authority made him King, if he felt responsible
for his forefathers slave trade, what message did he have for African
Americans, what was he was doing to bring the people of Save’
together with the Dahomey kingdom?......the interview went perfect! I
treated the King of Dahomey with my full respect. We ended up
laughing and joking...he answered all my questions...said we’d meet
again...we exchanged phone numbers, I filmed it all...and smiled all
the way back to Ignaces’ house.

I still can’t believe I interviewed the King of Dahomey. I’ll publish the
entire interview here when I have an extra moment.

4-5-6-7 January 2000

Coming soon.