«There was someone, there was no one … This could have begun as an African tale. There was a large and beautiful garden, lush, staging itself on a slope facing the ocean. The trade winds are rustling the leaves of giant eucalyptus; the ground still wet from heavy rains of the old, shines between two shadows; rampant rock emerges sometimes merging with perennials and conquering roots.

At the top, the residence of the Ambassador is asked simply, quiet ship on the green grass. From the pergola with large columns, like an arm stretched toward the horizon, we perceive the sunken road rumor. Birds cry, mean noise … And men arrive with equipment to scrape the ground and climb a crane that makes me think that vanes rotate in the direction of the wind. So, little by little, a new vessel is in turn prepared, which starts speaking too, gently, respectfully, this garden into the mysteries of Africa …It is a simple and profound building, which spins its web to the ground and the sky. It is not presumptuous as a new entrant that will shake up everything in its path, it is polite, but far and serene, ready to welcome those who cross the wall of its enclosure.

Off under his body, still gliding field. Asked straddles two massive, like rocks laid bare, he crossed an empty bridge over the river. In its center, the magic garden can be reborn, giving generously to those who work there. As the skeleton of a beautiful wood of the sacred warrior, it houses the workplace and Administration, which remind me of a village of wooden huts stuck together.

When I look in my eyes squinting into the sun, I feel I am both in the place of a distant institution, European, and talk to my African heart. It is almost ten o’clock and Ambassador left the patio of his residence by the gateway that leads to the roof of the new building. Downstairs, on the side, from the great court with floating colored flags, a man, the head and subsequently enter.

They are welcomed, there, in this symbolic place. This is the new home of France, here in Libreville, Gabon … «