Kinshasa, DR Congo - 

Dancers stoked on music and alcohol sway each weekend to the old hits on the decrepit rooftop terrace of Kinshasa's venerable La Creche bar like little has changed in the Congolese capital since the 1980s.

The beer flows freely and the party goes on into the small hours while the band keep alive the traditions of Congolese rumba, a genre of music whose origins experts believe lie in the time before European colonialism.

Yet rumba is so much more than the soundtrack to a good night out on the town. Having made UNESCO's intangible cultural heritage list in 2021, rumba stands as a source of intense national pride in the Democratic Republic of Congo, as well as across the border in Congo-Brazzaville.

"If you feel nostalgic and wish we could go back to the good old days, come to La Creche," singer Albert Diasihilua cheered before taking to the stage.

As midnight nears with the party in full swing, the waitress joins the throng on the dancefloor, swept up by the tunes -- until a power cut brings the music to a halt.

A generator thrums into life and the dancing begins anew.

Since 1984, La Creche's legendary orchestra has passed down the rumba tradition, performing covers of the great classics by legends like Franco Luambo, Tabu Ley Rochereau and Grand Kalle.

"This is the home of authentic rumba," insisted Diasihilua.

But despite the UNESCO listing, many fear for the future of the genre given its relative neglect by the younger generations.

- 'Under threat'  -

In Kinshasa's hip bars, the rumba of yesteryear has given way to a modern fusion of Afropop and RnB, a style notably popularised outside the country by Congolese artist Fally Ipupa.

"We cannot lose this music as we are on the way out," pleaded Diasihilua, who has already spent 50 of his 73 years on earth gigging.

To help preserve the genre, a national museum of rumba officially opened its doors to the public in the capital in December. The museum is housed in the former home of rumba star Papa Wemba, who died in 2016.

For Glodi Nkiadiasivi, the museum's assistant director, Congolese rumba is "under threat" of being forgotten.

"Young people do not understand its richness, they're more and more influenced by American, Nigerian and French songs," Nkiadiasivi added.

Besides displays of clothes from Papa Wemba's famously flamboyant wardrobe and traditional Congolese instruments, the museum hopes to attract visitors through guided tours, conferences and concerts.

But just a hundred or so guests have come so far, according to Nkiadiasivi.

- 'Cramping the style' -

With less than one percent of the government's budget devoted to culture, little help is expected from the Congolese state.

Yet at the National Institute of the Arts (INA) in Kinshasa, founded shortly after independence from Belgium in 1960, teachers are striving to train the next generation. Since 2022, students can take classes in the history of Congolese rumba and the basics of musical theory.

"There are lots of very talented artists in the city, but they don't know how to read music because they learnt on the job," said Michel Lutangamo, a professor and conductor at the INA.

Ethnomusicologist Jean-Romain Malwengo, who also teaches at the institute, pointed out that "rumba, like our other traditional music styles, is based on the oral tradition and therefore very fleeting."

"It could disappear at any moment. So the best way to preserve it is to write it down," he added.

For around 15 years, the researcher has worked with students on a project to transcribe music broadcast by television and radio or on vinyl. Between 300 and 400 songs have been preserved so far.

"It's our identity, it's a part of us," Malwengo added.

In his third year of a music degree, 26-year-old guitarist Daniel Lukusa reminisced about how much better the rumba played on repeat in his family home was.

"Pure rumba is starting to get lost," he said.

"Young people think they're adding special effects, when in fact they're cramping the style."

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© Agence France-Presse

Libreville, Gabon - 

Strands of raffia dry outside in the sun at the studio of Gabonese fashion designer Chouchou Lazare, who has made a name for himself using the natural fibres to craft his award-winning garments.

The natural material derived from palm leaves -- and traditionally reserved for Gabon's nobles and village chiefs -- gained international attention on the runways of the world's fashion capital last week.

"This is raffia from Gabon, it's special, it's woven very finely, it's a textile that deserves to be shown," the self-taught designer told AFP at his workshop in the capital Libreville.

Whether braided, sewn or glued to bustiers or skirts, nearly all of Lazare's dresses incorporate raffia.

Lazare was only nine years old when he began helping out his mother with her sewing to make ends meet.

He went on to organise his first fashion show in high school and has never received formal training in fashion.

Now in his 50s -- he chooses to keep his exact age under wraps -- Lazare says he learnt his craft by designing dresses for the two most important women in his life: his mother and grandmother.

"She was very tall; to me, she was like a queen," he said of his mother.

And in readying his latest collection for the show in Paris on February 28, she remained his inspiration.

"When I prepare my shows, I want to see queens, women who fully own who they are," he said.

Although the signature material is used throughout his collection, the natural fibres are never dyed.

In the central African country, raffia has special significance.

"It's a traditional fabric that is part of the spirituality of our country, that speaks to the ancestors," the designer said.

- Like 'diamonds' -

Nowadays no longer just for nobility, raffia features at Gabonese traditional weddings and Indigenous bwiti spiritual ceremonies.

"Raffia represents a natural resource to be preserved, contributing to the influence of Gabonese and African cultural heritage," the ministry of sustainable tourism and crafts said on social media earlier in the year.

But that does not mean it should only be worn by Gabonese or African people, Lazare said.

"It's for everyone," he stressed, checking whether a bunch of the fibres laid out on his balcony were dry.

In 2002, Lazare won first prize for fashion at the Saint-Etienne International Design Biennial in France.

More than two decades later, he presented his creations to French President Emmanuel Macron during a state visit to Gabon in November.

A photograph of Lazare with Macron and Gabon's President Brice Oligui Nguema now proudly hangs in his workshop, a reminder of "a great moment", he said.

While raffia may seem a familiar textile to people in Gabon, Lazare said that upon seeing the presidents' reactions to his creations, "I felt like they were diamonds."

Glittering in his "diamonds" -- a raffia-decorated hat and tunic with a gold suit jacket -- Lazare picked up an achievement award in Paris at last week's Fashion Annual Show, which for more than 25 years has been honouring African designers.

As the president of the Association of Gabonese Stylists and Creators, he is also paving the way for other designers through teaching and mentorship.

Lazare said he hoped to see raffia recognised "as a treasure for Gabon".

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Climate change may threaten the value of Bansko's prime ski slopes, but the Bulgarian resort has found an all-seasons solution to boost its economy, drawing in a cosmopolitan community of digital nomads.

Three centres offering hundreds of co-working spaces to online workers have sprung up in the town in recent years, supported by a fast internet connection and improved infrastructure.

"I read that this was the best place to start as a digital nomad," said Oscar Train, a 25-year-old Dane who since 2021 has worked remotely from Bansko for about six months of the year.

"I came here to kind of learn how to do it and meet like-minded people," he added. "You've got people from all over the world, all different kinds of professions."

Train, who grew up in Britain and works for an insurance company there, pays about 15 percent in taxes here -- including social contributions. If he was still in the UK, he said, it would be 45 percent, without social contribution.

The main draw for him however, is the lifestyle.

In winter, thanks in part to the one-hour time difference with London, he starts his day with two hours of skiing on Bansko's 75 kilometres (47 miles) of slopes, which have hosted World Cup races.

Then he can dust off the snow and go to work.

In summer too, he enjoys a cultural calendar including events specifically tailored to people like him, such as the week-long Nomad Fest that celebrates the "remote lifestyle" with community-led activities and networking.

- International arrivals -

Bansko sits among the Karst peaks of the Pirin range. Look up from your computer screen and you can see Mount Vihren, towering over the town at almost 3,000 metres (10,000 feet) high.

The 10,000-inhabitant town is surrounded by hot springs and is just two hours' drive from the capital Sofia -- and two and a half hours from the Greek coast.

Along with the relatively new co-working spaces, high-end restaurants and coffee shops have also popped up amid the resort's stone houses and cobbled streets. A bike lane is also under construction.

Bansko mayor Stoycho Banenski could not give an exact number of foreigners who have moved to the town, but their economic impact was "significant", he said -- especially given climate change was increasingly undermining winter sports.

Tourism helped the local economy bounce back strongly after the shutdown during the Covid pandemic, said a February report by the Sofia-based think tank Institute of Market Economics. The arrival of foreigners helped smooth out seasonal fluctuations in income, it added.

"But perhaps the most important thing is the change they bring," said Banenski, a mountain rescuer by profession.

"It is extremely important that people from all over the world live here and that we can exchange ideas, opinions and different perspectives on the world," he added.

- 'Gentrification' -

Many of those who first came to Bansko as travellers have settled there. Today, hundreds of families from all over the world live in the town.

French couple Anne Dupal, 47, and Christian Rudnicki, 53, both former graphic designers, have opened a micro-bakery since moving to Bansko in early 2022.

They find Bansko has changed from what they found when they first arrived, said Dupal: "Flashy lights, like a sex club, techno music, touts for the restaurants".

Today, Rudnicki welcomes the town's community spirit.

"It's wonderful having the grandmother from next door come over to bring me tomatoes or herbs and then meeting an Indonesian family at the bakery," he said.

The downside is the rise in the cost of living, which has also affected house prices.

"There is gentrification which is linked, unfortunately I think, to people like us, but also to many Bulgarians who are leaving the big cities," said Dupal.

Some locals however, are glad of the improved infrastructure and the vibrant atmosphere.

"The town has changed -- it has become international," said Nikola Kalistrin, 29, a ski mountaineering racer born and living in Bansko.

"Young people are benefiting from this," he added.

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© Agence France-Presse

Ganvié, Benin-For decades a narrow waterway in Ganvie, Benin has been a discreet rendezvous point for young couples to meet -- safe under cover of darkness, far away from strict families and prying eyes.

Now the so-called "lovers' channel" in west Africa's largest lake city risks becoming a relic of the past, the once-adventurous secret meeting place rendered obsolete by loosening social norms and dating apps.

"It's a beautiful story, but today... we talk, we get to know each other without hiding," Anna, 22, a student and native of the city often billed as the "African Venice", told AFP.

"We don't need all that extravagance to find our soulmate. The channel isn't as essential as it used to be," agreed Roslin Dantin, a 30-year-old cattle farmer.

"We see the lovers' channel as something for old people. For our generation, there are better options. Technology and social media have replaced those symbols," added Augustin Gbenoukpo, a 24-year-old student.

-'Nowhere else to meet'-

Elise Avlessi, who met her tailor husband on the waterway about 15 years ago, acknowledges that times have changed.

"Today, even from his bed, a young man can make a move on a girl who's on the other side of the world," she told AFP.

But new technology can also mean less privacy and intimacy.

"Before, we did everything in secret, we let the relationship develop away from prying eyes," she said, a touch nostalgic.

"We had nowhere else to meet freely. In the past, our parents wouldn't allow us to go out," she said of her early relationship with her now-husband.

Without the meeting spot, "our relationship would have been very difficult to develop. It was practically the only way to flirt."

Her husband, Joseph Hougebe, remembers whistling into the night, eagerly waiting to hear a paddle tapping against the hull of a dugout canoe -- coded signals in the darkness.

"At night, you couldn't tell the men from the women in the canoes. So they used slogans, pre-arranged keywords," Jonas Zannou-Zoki, a tour guide, explained to visitors.

- Ritual -

Time may be marching relentlessly on, but for those who once listened for their soulmates' voices carrying across the dark water, the canal still holds a kind of magic.

Just a few paddle strokes away, a "Lovers' Square" has been created in tribute.

Emilienne Atoukou, the site manager, points to the "sacred canary" -- a kind of small, perforated jar -- placed in the centre of a dugout canoe, into which lovers throw cowrie shells, so that they fall through it into the canal.

"People come to write their vows on cowrie shells that they throw here," she said.

Then they go to the "promises corner" in the square. "It's an intimate space, dedicated to fidelity and love," she explained.

She said the square has been consecrated by dignitaries of all religious denominations in Ganvie, making it a respected place, both spiritual and symbolic.

"These are moments of peace and contemplation," Atoukou said.

It is not only residents of Ganvie who find the waterway enchanting.

Recently, "a French couple returned to testify that their vows came true after meeting and making promises on this canal," said guide Jonas Zannou-Zoki.

"They are still together, years later."

While the number of canoes has decreased over the years, some still meet there to seal their union.

Astrid and Pierre-Marie, a couple in their 30s, came a few days before Valentine's Day to "promise each other the most important things".

"Before the wedding, we wanted a place that had meaning. On this channel, our vows felt more genuine," said Astrid.

"We came out of curiosity and we're leaving with a promise. We're keeping our fingers crossed that the channel brings us luck," her future husband added.

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© Agence France-Presse

In a softly lit Shanghai bar, graduate student Helen Zhao stretched out both wrists to have her pulse taken -- the first step to ordering the house special, a bespoke "health" cocktail based on traditional Chinese medicine.

"TCM bars" have popped up in several cities across China, epitomising what the country's stressed-out, time-poor youth refer to as "punk wellness", or "wrecking yourself while saving yourself".

At Shanghai's "Niang Qing", a TCM doctor in a white coat diagnoses customers' physical conditions based on the pulse readings, before a mixologist crafts custom drinks incorporating the herbs and roots prescribed for their ailments.

Instead of shelves of alcohol, apothecary drawers stocked with ingredients like goji berries and angelica root line the walls, permeating the room with their scent.

"This bar is actually an opportunity for me," 26-year-old Zhao told AFP, describing her "typical young person" lifestyle of late nights and junk food.

"I like having a drink after work anyway, and this way I can casually check if something is wrong with me, while also holding onto a bit of wishful thinking ."

The bar's resident TCM practitioner, Ding, said the concept was not as contrary as it might seem.

"The combination of Chinese medicine and alcohol has a long history in TCM -- it was traditionally called medicinal wine," he told AFP.

He emphasised though that the bar targeted health awareness rather than treatment.

- 'Have fun, reduce damage' -

Against the backdrop of a sluggish economy, China's job market is highly competitive, and "996" culture -- working from 9 am to 9 pm, six days a week -- is a feature of many sectors.

A 2024 survey found that over 60 percent of young people consider themselves to be in a suboptimal health state.

In recent years, reports of young employees allegedly dying from overwork have spread online, triggering discussion around mental and physical health.

In "Niang Qing", Cici Song, a 41-year-old white collar worker, told AFP she felt that late evenings were her "only real 'me time'".

"On the other hand, you want to take care of your body," she said, sipping an amber-coloured drink designed to improve her diagnosed "phlegm-damp constitution".

"So this is a kind of balance -- having fun while trying to reduce the damage."

The approach seems popular.

"Niang Qing" was founded by students from Shanghai University of Traditional Chinese Medicine only last year, but has already expanded to five locations across the country.

"We've noticed that many young people are actually very interested in TCM culture, but the ways to experience it might seem dull," said 22-year-old co-founder Wu Siyuan.

The idea of the bar was born "to let people experience TCM culture through entertainment".

- 'Wellness for a new era' -

Analysts have noted a growing interest among young Chinese people in products that repackage traditional Chinese culture for modern times.

TCM in particular has seen a global spike in popularity.

On TikTok, the "Becoming Chinese" trend has seen overseas users brewing herbal infusions, drinking hot water or practising traditional physical exercises, garnering hundreds of thousands of likes.

Co-founder Wu said his bar was seeing more foreign customers.

TCM bars "draw people from online to offline, and the social experience it creates delivers emotional value", Hua Hui, a professor at Shanghai Jiao Tong University, told AFP.

"Young people are under great pressure and need new scenarios for relief," he said, describing this as "a worldwide issue".

"Today's TCM bars provide precisely this -- a new form of socialising and wellness for a new era."

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