where the streets have no name

Ok, if you look at a map the streets do have names, but when walking around Cotonou, I have yet to see a street name. I am slowly becoming familiar with the layout of the city near the port. I have two routes down pat, one route to an icecream shop, and the other to the Hotel Du Lac, which has a lovely pool and a restaurant on a terrace overlooking the river. I ventured off to the craft market the other day with 2 of my roommates, one who had a pretty good idea of where it could be located...we wandered through some nicer areas of the city on our way there. Here you can always tell when you are in a more prosperous area or passing a pricier shop by the guards posted outside. I also visited the main market in this city, Marche Dantokpa. This market is absolutely enormous and easy to get lost in. On the way there we wandered along the main fabric street in Cotonou where there are oodles of fabric shops, and as you walk along each store owner waves you to come in and see his goods. I was surprised to see that most of these shops were owned by Lebanese. Apparently,there is a very large Lebanese population in West Africa. We spent over an hour on the fabric street so by the time we arrived at Marche Dantokpa we had to head back to the ship as I was working that afternoon. I did barter for some fabric though (from 18000 CFA to 13000 CFA...pretty sure I still overpaid but I am still a fledgling at the bartering game). To get around on foot anywhere in this city you must become adept at darting through traffic. My trick is to attach myself to a group of locals crossing the road as they seem to have a better idea of when to safely cross the road. The odd thing is that you might be standing on a median thinking you are quite safe from the traffic when someone will decide to park where you are standing and come flying at you anyways. Ah, for the days of crosswalks and pedestrian lights.