"Are you boring?"

The British Consulate advises against visiting two countries on the African continent: Cote D'Ivoire (aka Ivory Coast) and Somalia. Guess where I went this weekend? The forbidden Cote D'Ivoire and it was well worth the risk! I visited the Cote D'Ivoirian embassy in Accra to get a visa, which I discovered I did not actually need after the fact, but they still gladly accepted my 7,000 CFA (Central African franc) equivalent to 17.5 GH cedis or about $17.50 USD. Each time I went to try to get this visa I didn't actually need, I kept an eye on my watch to see just how long the woman at the desk ignored me. The form she gave me was in French and English but the English part was cut off along the edge so I had to guess as to what I had to write in the blanks. I had to try to interact with the woman, who spoke as little as possible to me, and became irritated because I couldn't follow the instructions because I was not raised in a Francophone country. She kept opening the sliding glass window from her chair with her pen and slamming the door shut each time she had to deal with me. I didn't have to write all of that, but it's just amusing how sometimes people in the world's easiest jobs such as this one can be so rude.

Enduring the rudeness and unnecessary visit to the Ivoirian embassy was a drop in the bucket compared to the next step in our journey: getting there. We (my friend Corinne, and two other girls I haven't traveled with, Aly and Meghan) had to take a STC bus to Abidjan, the economic capital of Cote D'Ivoire, which left at 4:00 AM and we had to report to the station at 3:00. We woke up at 2:00 and were at the station when were supposed to be, but the bus did not actually leave until 5:15 A.M. When we boarded the bus, the seats Corinne and I were assigned and their vicinity exuded a rather offensive odor. We were somewhat self-conscious for the first two hours of our journey because we kept thinking to ourselves, "Is that me?!" It smelled like we were sitting in the crotch of a marathon runner that did not bother to bathe for a week or so. We tried to mask the odor by dotting some vegan lip balm under our noses to smell cinnamon or citrus instead of crotch.

The bus ride was LONG. It took 14 hours in total to get there. But it was a beautiful ride, too. We rode along the entire coast of Ghana as we traveled west into Cote D'Ivoire and then winded, I mean sped way too fast for a bus full of people and bags of all the rice of Thailand, through the jungles and oil palm, rubber, banana, and pineapple plantations (you know, where there used to be rainforest? It's okay, multinational corporations, I mean the Cote D'Ivoirian people need rubber!) Evil.

From other people that had went to Cote D'Ivoire and from what I read about the country's instability I was a little apprehensive about going there. I heard that I would be hassled incessantly by guards and police and always asked for my passport and a bribe. I also worried about being mugged or even another civil war starting. Not long after crossing the Ivoirian border, our bus stopped because there was something in the road. All of a sudden, someone banged on the side of our bus with their fist and yelled, "Get off the bus! Everyone! Get off the bus now!" No one knew what was going on. I looked down the bus aisle from my seat and saw that there were people coming towards our bus from the opposite direction. I was freaking out inside, but I remained calm and did as the military man told us. It turned out that there was just a truck that had crashed into the bridge we were crossing, and it was easier for the bus to maneuver around the truck that was blocking a good deal of the road and was relieved of some of its weight so everyone got off. Thanks military man for scaring all of us. It wasn't that urgent!

By 8:30 PM, we were finally in Abidjan. It is a beautiful city. Cote D'Ivoire was the gem of Africa at one point in that it was economically strong because of its natural resources. The French definitely invested in infrastructure there and this was apparent because the city was developed. The city is on the water, where a river meets the ocean. It's very modern, and felt eerily like an American city, only right smack dab in the middle of West Africa. The city must have been spectacular in its heyday but when its stability faltered the French were like, "See ya lataaa, Cote D'Ivoire! Good luck!" and this is apparent in the dilapidation around the edges, and the urban poor surrounding the city.

I don't know if we just lucked out with our social experience in Cote D'Ivoire or what, but as soon as we got off the bus, we met amazing people. When we went to a hotel we saw in the guidebook as a budget option and were turned away, the person at the front desk help us get another hotel and even came out to our cab to tell the driver, in French, the directions to the hotel. When we reached our Hotel, Hotel Provencal, we were famished. We asked someone if she knew of a good restaurant we could go to at that hour. She piled into the cab with us, and took us to the restaurant she recommended, L'Automatique, which was diner-style Lebanese food. When we arrived at the place, she was going to go back in the cab to return to the hotel, but we told her that we would treat her to dinner because of our gratitude. Only one of us spoke French, not a whole lot, but more than enough to get us anything we might need. So it was an interesting time trying to communicate with Kathe, the French-speaking Moroccan woman, when 75% of us did not speak any French aside from things like, "Thank you!" and "Hello!" It was a great night actually. Great food (a protein bomb in my stomach!), and great, cross-cultural and -lingual interaction!

The next day, we woke up to explore the region of Treichville and other districts of the city. When we came downstairs from our octagonally-shaped rooms on the roof of the hotel, we met Jacque, an Ivoirian, who became our friend, and guide to Abidjan. We walked around and saw all kinds of crafts such as wooden carvings and beads. One man tried to sell me a single bead for 15,000 CFA ($37 USD) and then proceeded to try to convince me that it was a good price. Thanks, but no thanks. We bought some corn on the cob while walking around on the streets, and one lady took the cob out of Meghan's hand, broke it in half, took half, and gave the other half to Meghan, all without asking her for it. Because the city is broken up by the lagoon, there is a ferry service that allows people to easily get from one part of a city to another. We took this ferry and enjoyed the salt air and seeing a different perspective of the city. I asked a passenger to take a picture of the four of us while we were on the ferry. I handed the camera to her and she had it facing the wrong way, the lens facing her, so I saw as she drew it closer to her, her eye grow enormous and staring in the screen. I can't describe it well, but it was hilarious. Just take my word for it, okay? We had a small meal at La Caravalle, another Lebanese restaurant (I don't think you understand how tired we are of rice and other starch readily available in Ghana) and had some Lebanese dessert (basboosa!). Amazing. We then continued our walk and stumbled across a Muslim community. There was a huge green and white mosque and an street with a series of stalls which sold the Qu'ran, prayer mats, and other Muslim wares. It was a beautiful site. We talked with the people hanging around there and looked at the things, unfamiliar to our own lives, that the vendors were selling. I felt very far away from home because of these differences and the poverty in this area, as we watched life go by.

It was great to meet someone that could take us around the city. Jacque was a character for sure. How could you not love his thick African French accent? He spoke enough English to be able to communicate with us, but there were still some awkward English. "I am strong, but I will not fight...unless I'm hungry." I guess that made sense in context, but it was a strange way of saying things. And also, (I've heard this twice), something that seems to get lost in translation: "Are you boring?" This was directed at me, when I was standing in the group of my friends and not speaking so instead of saying "Are you bored?", "Are you boring?" was used instead. Yeah, don't mind me, I'm just standing here without any hobbies. On a more serious note, Meghan asked Jacque about what he remembered about the war. He told us that the hotel, where he works, is near a police training academy. At commencement, the graduates of the academy shoot guns into the air at the ceremony. One night, Jacque heard gunshots in the middle of the night, and thought that it was from the academy, and went back to sleep. However, it was the beginning of the civil war. Jacque could not leave the hotel for his house for three days because of the violence happening down on the streets. Cote D'Ivoire is said to be a violent place. Hearing this story in addition to hearing about the political system there and how the people have been promised an election that never came for several years, and are worse off financially because of what happened with the war, I can understand why this country would be so volatile. People are fed up.

On Monday, we went to see this outdoor laundrette where about 275 Burkinabe people gather in a river near the Parc du Banco (a park you should not go to by yourself because there are several convicts hiding out there...) to wash clothing. Jacque took us to see this. It was neat to see, but I felt a little voyeuristic. We then went to visit St. Paul's Cathedral which was made of white stucco with a blue roof and a huge swirling spire which ("the finger of God" we called it) made it an impressive monument on the hill overlooking the city. This beautiful and immense cathedral was located amidst abject poverty, which again questions the need for such ornate and expensive architecture for a place of worship, when the surrounding community is suffering so much. The houses of the villages were so close together, and some were perched on the edge of a mud cliff that would probably be gone the next time it rained.

The rest of the day (btw it was Corinne's birthday on Monday!) was spent exploring the Le Plateau district. It was a very chic part of Abidjan with cafes and successful business, and trees lining the streets. We went to get some traditional Ivoirian food for lunch, which is very similar to Ghanaian food. I had some grated cassava, which looked and tasted like tangy couscous. I asked for something vegan in the best way I could, and I got some vegetables floating in a meat and/or fish-filled broth. The concept of vegetarianism is not understood here. If you say you do not eat meat or fish, they will give you something that does not have visible chunks of meat in it, but is most likely cooked with meat and fish. Corinne had all of the food that I was served. I eventually had some stew made with cocoyam leaves which was basically like a spinach stew, and I was a little suspicious about it actually being vegan...After exploring Le Plateau, we headed back to our hotel and then celebrated Corinne's birthday over Lebanese food, and later ice cream/sorbet, pastries, and coffee at a patisserie!

So that was Cote D'Ivoire. It was the exact opposite of what I was expecting and I loved it. We were supposed to leave at at 7:00 for Accra, so we were there at 630, but I did not realize that 7:00 actually meant that the bus would leave at 9:30. We finally arrived in Ghana at 11:00 PM. I was happy to be back. The people in Ghana are wonderful in how friendly they are. I miss Ghana when I leave it. Anyway, I have to run as I am leaving for Niger soon with Corinne. I am not looking forward to the bus ride that will take longer than 30 hours. Deep vein thrombosis here I come. I hope those accompanying us to Niger have bathed prior to boarding the bus...Have a great week!

Peace.
-RM.