`Le Vive? Le … something like that. Does it mean anything to you?”
“Le Vive? La Veuve, perhaps? You say it has something to do with nuns?”
“I think they’re nuns. They don’t speak English, so I wasn’t too sure what they were talking about.”
The setting is Ouagadougou by night. We’re driving around in a taxi, looking for a place that might be a convent, or might be something else. “Le Vive? Oui, I know the place,” says the taxi driver, much to my relief. My companion is an American documentary film-maker who has tagged on to me for the last couple of days because I happen to look like a friendly face in a jungle of unfriendly language.
It’s true, it is hard to get a handle on anything in Ouagadougou if you don’t speak French. But the taxi driver is a pretty canny guy, and sure enough, here we are on the doorstep of the place. Now it all makes sense. The sign outside says L’Eau Vive, which loosely means Sparkling Waters, or the Fountain of Life. Which is appropriate: the dining area is an open courtyard whose centrepiece is an artificial fountain, crowned with a statuette of the Virgin Mary. And yes, it is indeed a convent, but a convent with a difference.
I’ve heard of monks who make wine and nuns who play the guitar in public. This is a nunnery that pays for itself by operating as a five-star restaurant. It’s a popular one too, among those who can afford it. And the food isn’t too bad. The catch is, what they write on the bill is not the only price you have to pay.
At eight sharp, wherever you are with your meal, your waitress, who is actually a novice of the convent, comes to your table with a card that you assume is the dessert menu. No such thing. It is a song sheet, the Hail Mary set to music. And shortly after, all the novices line up among the tables, facing the sacred fountain, and start to sing. A disembodied organ accompanies them. You are silently encouraged to join in.
The wine glass in your hand feels a bit blasphemous after that. So we hurriedly pay our bill, and leave with heads bowed with a shame whose origin we can’t pinpoint. Gimme the night.