JE RESTE AVEC TOI!

Last weekend we went on a one-day trip to the Akanda park - a small national park north of Libreville, which is mainly a reserve for birds. We took the boat and set off in the hope of seeing some wildlife.

We got to the Bird Island (l'Ile aux oiseaux), a pretty place by the way, didn't really see any extraodrinary birds but there were hundreds of seagulls (or something of the kind) and it was the quantity rather than the quality that made the views special. To go back to Libreville, we had to wait for high tide, otherwise there was not enough water in the river for the boat to pass. Our guides - although this is not the appropriate term, really - were Nigerian and they took us to Moka, a Nigerian village right next to the island.

We were of course a great attraction for everyone. Many people came up to shake our hands, some of them asking to buy them a drink at the local bar. Men tried flirting with us girls and a huge group of kids immediately started following us. At first they kept to the other side of the road, watching us, smiling and giggling. When the villagers offered to take us to the beach, the kids became braver. They came up to me and our visiting friend, Giulia, took our hands and refused to let them go. It would've been much easier if I were an octopus - each of my arms was grabbed by at least three children, two more hanging on to my backpack. In this strange symbiosis we reached the beach, where I told the children to let me go for a second, so that I could find a place to sit. I also took a few pictures of them, which flattered them greatly. They were happy to pose and insisted on my taking photos. I remember thinking that they would inevitably request some money for all the photos I'd taken. They never did.

We sat down on some improvised benches, starving. We couldn't take out our food though - with fifteen kids swarming around us, there was no way to eat without sharing. And we didn't have enough food to share with everyone.

The children were not giving up: as soon as we sat down, they cuddled up to us - a breathing and talking cocoon, impossible to peal off. Je reste avec toi!, a twelve-year-old kept saying. As I had nothing better to do, I took the guidebook and started showing them the pictures. Suddenly, I was drowning among heads and arms and fingers pointing, all the kids crouched beside me, extremely excited. We talked and they taught me the local names for some fish.

When we finished, Giulia suggested teaching them a song. We had some fun with Itsy Bitsy Spider (inspired by a picture of a spider in the book) and then we tried the less complicated I'm a Little Bunny, which they were still singing when we were getting into the boat. They never asked for money or sweets. I had fun with them and they had fun with me. It was enough for both parties. I felt surprised.