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ridiamoci a bit about .. later!









My friend, let a question, you know that I'm leaving tomorrow for Holland I would be sure that if I were in Amsterdam right now, I had a thousand friends, who accidentally went there. But to change and be a bit 'original I decided to go to Cotonou .. that? You tell me .. Benin .. I tell you What? You tell me .. Africa .. Ok ok see that each site is easy to find someone to are more differences between Canelli and Nizza between Benin and Madagascar, which, in effect during the last two there is almost 100% of blacks in the early two, the figure varies from year to year, depending on migration .. damn .. Migration and damn sti migrants But here is good, no migration, because in reality there is no cock to see and do But no! I'm me, so handsome that I take and decide to make me a good escapade in Benin, in Cotonou, in fact I say more, I'm going to Adjohoun, why go to Africa and stay in a city?
too many years I lived in a town (if you can call Asti city), I would never have gone to live in a small town, like my grandparents to Valencia, and that there was a lawn, a goats, chickens, and then what? So glad I left happy hours in the countryside, fresh air, no smog, including goats, chickens and fields My friend, do not expect to be in Valencia, there at least leave the house, I'm taking the car , take the road paved! And you walk in the quiet town. Here you leave the house, do not have a car, walk 15 minutes to go where there are motorcycle taxis, motorbike taxis and there are aspects, Then comes one sees that you're white and shoot a figure exaggerated, make yourself a laugh together, share contracts and the asphalt, but there exists a state contract that says that everything will be paved by 2005 .. I wait for 2005! I think it is already gone! The red clay it gets everywhere, nose, eyes, throat, is good only for the arms and legs that look more tanned! And then the road is the end of the world, that is if you fall it is the end!
But anyway I have come here to look for something that is not in our country, I call it the mother-in-law in Africa. Mother-in-law because it is always present in Africa but also because it is always on the ball and there was the Africa would be very happy. In fact I struggled a little, I did not even engaged but after 2 months so abundant here that one night she came to visit me. Gentile as only she can do, he broke down the door and track, Hello Nicholas, I am the Malaria. Now I am left open-mouthed, oh well I can tell you, come, but she was already beautiful svaccata, was well squat to me and I wanted to leave at all. has started the ordeal, my friend, is it true that is shit! but these cocks, and my sympathetic colleagues .. but you want to live in Africa and do not get malaria, and well, no, fuck! It was fun, imagine, you've already hurt by a couple of days, worse, a slight headache, but here it is better to have it checked every symptom, but if you're in a village so handsome as Adjohoun, every little thing becomes difficult. Then I wait for the next morning, while I decide not satisfied to make myself a nice awareness night in a village that only takes 25 minutes to get a 4x4 and once there is a driver, it is time I am the driver, and cross two streams at night say that was funny .. In short .. with a slight headache .. fun .. I'll return home at 22.30, slightly hungry, but the gas cylinder in the village is over and there is only one store that sells bottles, there are still 4 arrival, ask the guy who tells me I am laughing all empty! Eheheh .. too sympathetic, slits in the cylinder of my head .. here to really laugh too much! I'm going back home and I magio a can of tuna on bread, in fact I did not even everyone is hungry and is like cooking. Meanwhile headaches salt, salt, and reaches its peak, that day, at 4 am, of course, the current is skipped, all is silent, just banging my temples, and beat well! I think the yoga, I never did and breathing, shortness of breath, until 8. In the morning I go to the hospital where I am told that Adjohoun have to wait half an hour that the doctor arrives. Knowing that when they tell me to wait 5 minutes, sometimes almost an hour passes, I do my calculations, I greet all with a lot of driver I head to the first city: Porto Novo. Facilitate my good health, road works, where a thousand men in the middle of the runway plow the ground, planed, remove stones, it seems a bit 'to be at the Palio di Asti, but this lasts for a few months and will continue. Some might call our local company that in a couple of weeks to finish the 20km track, but then take work away from local then no! Middle senile arrival in the city before I make a good 2 km walk in a Muslim hospital to find the laboratory analysis, talk to the nurse, speaking with the doctor, go to pay analysis, to be told that I would get the results only in the late afternoon and while I was doing? I went to the creator? No thanks! Then search for a private clinic, testing, waiting for an hour then get two for me to say, welcome in Africa, you have Malaria! Thanks, I was already thinking, if not then it was malaria, were dicks! give me a medicine that makes me malaria so that my body creates the antibodies to defeat it, only that we would come to know only the third day.
Day: absolute hell, Satan did not see it but I knew it was good to see me like that. Arrival home in Cotonou and discover that the cleaning lady I washed the sheets, he bent me but obviously I did not put them. The zero forces only tell me to lie down, I try but I'm too bad, I raise my head and I have thousands of dizziness, my head explodes, the light blinds me, every little noise echoes in my head and on the way to every driver As trumpeted, because here it works, and stop fucking! start to turn over in bed and can not find a position, you just know that you have to drink, you can not sleep, beginning to get cold, but you know it makes a hot dog shit!
Get the sheets that you are and mummifies inside, nothing. Get the two long-sleeved shirts that are unused since the beginning of the adventure and you put them both, nothing. find the sweatshirt still in the suitcase, untouched, perfectly folded and ironed and put it on yourself, you begin to feel better. Less but also more cold sweat, sweat too much cabbage, the hood of the sweatshirt is wet, t-shirts as well, the sheets are starting to soak. Then you genius, you get up, stagger, his head explodes and turns, the first thing you drink, any time is good for drinking, head to the bathroom and find out what color fantasy pools due to the fact that malaria broke out in the red blood cells that are diluted with everything.
It 's also a good idea of \u200b\u200bmedicine, to see something that is deep down takes is malaria.
're a little better, or you can walk 10 steps without falling, you walk out, you know what's hot, the sun beating down, but you're cold, stretch and sweat shirts and take other, will serve as a spare hour between, at least the sun helps! The first day is a nightmare, curse yourself that brought you to this place to shit with ste diseases of shit, but who did you do? The adventure, the experience? Fuck everything!
Second day: at dawn are good but it's just a fake, you still have to take four tablets of Coartem in the morning, besides the two of paracetamol, 500 (8 per day, I hope to detoxify quickly) Here comes again and that are the hallucinations, I understand that hell on the second day, although it is still a hell is softer, they are no longer the jaws of Lucifer, some as high as round as a rule of retaliation now, every time I fall asleep, and I fall asleep at any moment, I find myself in situations to be resolved and I have commitment and effort, and this makes my head explodes more and more. Second day, better than the first, yes! I can sleep but every time you eat something, or even if you do not swallow anything, as a good sprinter, straight into the sink to replace water, but most of the time, body and soul, you die for a second and Renaissance nice and clean and a good hour you are better You can sleep with two links between the sheets and plush with 35 degrees in the house and does not touch you even get up and leave yourself in the sink, not bad! Fortunately arrives on the third day, you find that you are on the equator, which is hot, you're fine in shirt and trousers, still having a bit 'but light fever, headache, but bearable, you start to eat something without vomit, quiet quiet thank the world for having passed this tsunami internal and really understand the evil of Africa comes from small insects that draw blood from people infected and pass it to other men.
And Africa is sick, and many of them do not have the money to take tests, do not have the money to be prescribed a prescription (required in Benin), does not have the money to buy medicines, clothes do not have to cover a thousand tremors. My friend, it might be a shitty place, preferably in Amsterdam, but here, every little help you become a great help, think my friend!

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had been organized everything to perfection, the Monday before it was finally talked about the misunderstandings and bad-communication that led to the job at random, hasty, without a plan. This gave me a sense of restlessness continues, I knew my role, what to do, what I had to take, what was the take certain actions. Too many questions, how, when and why. Require clarification, the meeting was helpful to me. I explained that I would be busy plant technician, managing video, music and animators welcomed and entertained the crowd and I was also told that after the screening the film, I'd be the same to break the ice with the public.

Although there are large problems of language, almost no one speaks French, because it touches me to make people talk about the film, because it explains to children and older persons with what he understood by the projection, because in fact a kind of early debate. Necessary and important is the help of a facilitator so that they can translate what he says white.

The sun is rapidly disappearing behind the valley when we start towards Agonlin Lowe, a village of nell'arrondissement Azowlissè, 15 km from Adjohoun. I know well the village, have already been with the team to form legally two groups of women working as cassava and oil palm. All this happened after a course of literacy in local language (a teacher has taught them to read and write).

(fires to boil the cassava and oil Palm )

(thanks for the training, fish in hot sauce and corn paste)

To understand better, I put some notes taken at the time, during training, written hastily on my Moleskine: 43 women sitting in the classroom, those stalls in the morning using their own children, quell'innumerevole offspring that now remains outside the building, except for infants, sleeping serenely resting on the mother's back.

The building that protects us from the sun could be a barn, a warehouse, a school, the office of local administration is certainly the largest room in the village. Now, Mr. Baghidì is training women to improve their group in the economic, financial and managerial.

These women work cassava, corn, soap ever, but working individually are unable to buy tools to speed up and ease the processing and transformation of raw materials into salable in the local market and neighboring. It is difficult for these women to follow the trainer. During the day, do not just run their business, they must look after their children 4-5-6, to prepare a meal for families. I say meal because it is not a lunch or dinner. Here you can eat at once. The preparation is hard, you have to fetch water from the well, we need to go to cut wood in the forest, you need to buy palm nuts, crushed to make olive oil, for cooking and then have to go to the market to buy all the remaining. He lacked a lot of money, repeat these actions every day. They can not afford to cover at home.

Their eyes are tired, will build upon the benches and listen to him with sleepy eyes.

are not accustomed to: some nursing the infant, who shelling beans, salad who cuts, who think about what still needs to be done. Who knows what goes through my head?

deem the training useful? Will anything change in their daily lives? But above all, have figured out something? Thinking about the future here is difficult, how do you think about tomorrow if it would not eat today?

Poor woman, in her hands the beans on his back and his son began to cry. If he takes it and shakes it, he insists, increases in intensity, the group is altered, calls for silence.

The mother is tired, a little girl comes to his aid, will have five years, perhaps the daughter, in each case acts. In his gestures, a daily ritual, takes the baby, looks into his eyes, puts a finger in his mouth and he stops. Back to the silence. The power of a little girl of 5 years!

remain stunned but only for women is the norm, the older children are not surprised at this and more. I keep looking at them, all speak in gun, the dialect. I do not understand and fix their eyes, they speak to me, I try to listen to them.

Agonlin is a lively village, people want to go out from the monotony of his few assets.

The shows come just for awareness, oddly enough from the other villages, the elders here are the first to welcome us and help us to mount the screen (a white cloth), other adults bring tables and chairs, even before the projector will send some pictures in the crowd already above us, before they are all small, alert and curious adults on both sides, the head of the village is took a chair and settled next to me, looks at me and smiles at me, I spare, after the first greetings we can not communicate, here comes my age, who kindly offers to translate.

Elder is happy to see us and even more to find a white man who is doing these activities. Today, the film will focus on the importance of the birth certificate. More than half of children are deprived certificate does not have an identity, they have a name and date of birth. But this is not essential here, you can live the same even without this package, then we come that we look for practical reasons, such as the examination of fifth grade, where students are required to the certificate, you can not do this without the 'examination and the way to the college is automatically closed. Another problem for those unwilling to study, is to begin an apprenticeship in any workshop of an artisan, in this case you need to start is the birth certificate.

The audience follows the video carefully, it is frightening at times risky, laughs heartily listening to some jokes that frankly baffles me, while I like to begin the discussion, as a stimulus.

For an hour the lightning light up the leaden sky and decide to continue, but undaunted, found a group like this, it would be sad to stop the uncertainty of a possible shower.

at that moment, a few drops began to fall, not even time to think about doing that which breaks out the flood, a waterfall will open over our heads.

The village is responsive, and everyone gets something that warehouse that had been used to repair the women from the sun, this time we will return for his useful Further, the rain.

The water rages on the tin roof of the hall, unable to communicate, a guy with a foot from my nose tells me something but nothing, I can not understand a word. The promise of return, a small town like this can not be left out, too beautiful, too hot. Return. Rain permitting.