Yovo
“Whatever white people do not know about Negroes reveals, precisely and inexorably, what they do not know about themselves.” James Baldwin When walking or biking around village most people call me Noé , a name that is no more than the French equivalent of Noah. I like the name. It's basically the same as Noah but still different, a kind of metaphor for who I feel I am in Benin. Other people in village and just about everyone outside of it call me something else: yovo . Many Beninese, especially in the south, use this label for foreigners, particularly those of a foreign race. Yovo becomes my name away from village, how strangers greet me, and the punctuation of shouts in my general direction. Generations have even passed down a song, often sung by children, with lyrics to greet and attract the attention of yovos: “Yovo, yovo, bonsoir! Ça va bien? Merci!” The label has often frustrated me. Some people in my own neighborhood still call me yovo instead of Noé eve