No, I’m not going on a safari!

Travel to Africa Series: Part 1

“No, I’m not going on a safari!” was my answer to the inevitable question when I mentioned my Africa trip to my friends.

“What are you going to do there?”

“I’m going with my friend to see his agricultural center in West Africa.”

“Oh,” was the tepid and typical response. And the underlying unasked question was, “Why would you go to one of the poorest countries in the world to see a farm?”

I didn’t know how to answer that question because I didn’t really know what to expect.

I met Father Nzamujo years earlier at a garage sale. I was helping an elderly couple move into an assisted living home and selling the contents of their trailer. A friend told me there was a priest from Africa who might be interested. I replied, “Send him over!” I just wanted to get rid of all their stuff. And I have to admit that the thought of their belongings going to Africa made me smile since they were extremely racist. I would never tell them. They had Alzheimer’s by this time anyway.

When we met he took a lot of items for his container and talked about Songhai, his agricultural center in Benin, West Africa. He named it after the great empire that flourished in Africa hundreds of years ago. We talked politics and I invited him over for dinner so my husband and I could hear more about what he was doing. Even though I had been a Catholic nun for six years, I was now an atheist and so was my husband, but the dinner went beautifully and he stayed in touch with us over the years, becoming friends.

This past summer, after he spent his vacation with our family, I decided to go back with him to Africa and visit this remarkable place that he had built.

I didn’t know how to answer the questions about Songhai because I didn’t really know what to expect.

I had seen videos on Youtube but wanted to see it for myself. It was quite an adventure into the unknown for a seventy-three-year-old woman who had always traveled with her family. And had never done anything remotely adventurous, even considering driving on LA freeways too frightening.

I was flying with Nzamujo, but he would be very busy once we reached Songhai since he was the director, and I would be flying back home alone.

With lots of suitcases filled with seeds, grape cuttings, cereal boxes, and donated perfume and cologne as presents, we set out for Los Angeles International one afternoon this last July. After 36 hours of flying from LAX to Istanbul to Cotonou, Benin, we arrived at Songhai close to midnight, and the next morning I awoke to a whole new world!