Then the story of M; I don't know where to start with her, she claims to be Beninoise/Togolaise, she doesnt speak French very well and then I started speaking in English to her, she understood me perfectly but replies in 'her' French.
She has been living on the beach for 3yrs she says, her parents died 3yrs ago and she has been alone ever since. She told me her father died in Cote d'Ivoire and her mother in Benin. However I don't think it's the whole truth I immediately felt she was Nigerian with her surname & the fact she knew Lagos well when we talked about it, her father worked there. I suspect she's been trafficked here ... I 'interviewed' her in English as Eric + Diouf dont speak a word, we went very slowly but after 4hrs I had the basics although there's a lot of missing information and we all felt that she was hiding something; the story doesn't quite add up. I have a good schoolfriend from Nigeria and called her to verify that the surname she'd given was in fact Nigerian as I suspected; my friend was great and came straight back to me to agree with me.
I was convinced she's not 13 but 11 or 12 - mentally we think she's ok but physically she wasn't good, been peeing blood for over a year she said and has been raped several times by the same two men when she slept in the market - she only went there when it rained on the beach. I was going to go with her and Eric to a school where we think she was enrolled, I find it strange that a '13' yr old cannot remember which school she went to 3yrs ago - hence our suspicions ... I was not happy I was leaving as there was a lot to be done with her .... we had hoped that that afternoon she would go to Abidjan to a laboratory to get a thorough health check. She was so sweet ... clung onto me and opened up more with me than the guys - why did I have to fly so soon???!!!
Friday, January 16, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
And so it has to end ...
I left Jacqueville having spent my last evening with 'la blanche' having dinner together outside her house on the beach. Sad to be leaving ... why is it that I'm always so sad leaving places in Cote d'Ivoire??? We walked back to Hotel Grace in town with people going past us saying 'bonsoir' and then a guy comes up to me in the dark & says 'Bonsoir' to me ... bit confused I didn't recognise him in a suit, it was Guy, my young money changer looking very smart!
Getting up early I said goodbye to Dudu the owner of Hotel Grace and paid my final 3,000CFA for the night. Wandered down to the gare routiere to find transport directly to Abidjan, one company has a pirogue on the lagoon so that you don't have to wait for the 'bac' across. Took forever thanks to some short guy with a personality complex of inferiority ... decided to throw us all out of one van and into a brand new vehicle; great except a tyre needed changing and they had to go off to find one. I was not impressed as I wanted to be in Abidjan early to get a few things done!
Finally we were on the road, got into the second vehicle the Sogon side of the lagoon and within a few kilometres almost ran over a gazelle of some type, stunning creature! Finally we reached Treichville after endless bottleneck jams in Abidjan prior to crossing the lagoon. I found a taxi or woro woro (shared taxi without a meter) and an honest driver and hopped in ... to then find he wanted me to stay at his for the night - here we go again ... no I needed a hotel, cheap one in Treichville or Zone 4 (where I knew cheap hotels don't exist).
He took me to Hotel Treichville on a promise that I'd call him later to go out, like I didn't have better things to do!!! Hotel Treichville was 10,000CFA a night with air-con, but didn't have anything without air-con; they sent me to Hotel du Prince (with my ever annoying taxi driver) on Av. 23; found a room with a shower & basin for 6,000CFA with a fan, probably the cheapest place in Abidjan. Opposite my window was the mosque, I knew I would be in for a delight early next morning, but the calling to prayers doesn't usually bother me, in fact I enjoy it! I had my doubts as to 'what type' of hotel I'd just booked into but I'd been to worse & it was clean!
Dumped everything, showered, changed into clothes that were more fit for Abidjan and not as to look like I was some country bumpkin and set off into town. Had an interesting day, met up with a friend I'd met a few weeks previously who works for FIF and went out for dinner with a friend who is with the BBC in Cote d'Ivoire. Had some interesting conversations at a gorgeous restaurant overlooking the lagoon in Cocody!
I left early the next morning to head to Treichville market to buy some bits & pieces, I also wanted a couple of pintade to take down to Assouinde for everyone. But then the thought of carrying 2+ live pintade (guinea fowl) and my two backpacks was a bit much when a whole cage of them got loose in the market & I realised that I could cause complete mayhem in a minibus down to Assouinde!!! I found the market cafe, waited very patiently to be served. All the market traders were having breakfast there & I had to wait till 9am to change money at the bank so joined them. Yet again the smallest, dirtiest little street cafe produces good food & great coffee!!!
Eventually caught a minibus to Bonoua where I hoped to find Eme & his taxi. After a bit of a mouthful from the guy trying to fill taxis who said 'Oi, blanche, tu va ou?' I gave him a lesson in diplomacy and pointed out if I yelled 'oi, noir' it wouldn't go down well. Eme came up to see what all the fuss was about and made him apologise to me ... think he learnt his lesson & I left my bags to go shopping. I found a youngster had tagged along with me wanting to carry my bags, tried to get rid of him but he was persistent & looked an absolute mess, very skinny, shredded clothes etc, so I held onto him. He carried my bags full of avocados, pineapples & plantain that I was taking to Assouinde with me. I spotted someone cooking brochettes & rongions .. so I bought one each for us; my little helper was thrilled. He deposited the bags in the back of Eme's taxi and was about to run off when I called him back & handed him 100CFA, he was astonished that I'd bought him food & paid him!
Another couple of days at the beach, doing not very much at all, very lazy, great to be back. Met a lovely Lebanese guy Mimo a friend of JB's who seemed to know all the other Lebanese I'd met, lives in San Pedro near the Liberian border. I wanted to return Arsene's tapettes (jandals, thongs, flip-flops - whichever language you speak)! But Arsene had just gone off to Burkina that morning & it seems that I probably passed him on the road as he was getting the train from Abidjan. I rang him having handed over the tapettes to Mack his brother & he died laughing at me for bringing them back!!!
The leg wound was getting worse, deeper, I kept pouring the powdered penicillin I'd bought in Jacqueville into it, bathing it in the sea. Getting a lot of advice from all of them ... but the worst of it was keeping the flies away from the wound, disgusting!
Billie, the owner of Blue Marin, the nightclub in the village came up to eat at Le Jardin a few times & invited me down to the club with him. Then it all started. Bedie, the former President had been on a 'tour' around the Sud-Comoe region & I stupidly mentioned that he'd been through Bassam & Bonoua, my transport had been held up because of him. Turns out that one of my friends is pro-Bedie whilst another is vehemently against him ... the argument went on over dinner with me trying to steer the conversation away from it all. Finally I suceeded & said I'd go down to the village later & to the club.
Arriving at the club, Billie wanted me to hear his politics & got the waitresses to set up a table & chairs in a far corner in the garden of the club. He started telling me his background, tribal roots etc when the others arrived & it all blew up again. They kept asking me, my opinion of it all; I pointed out that it's not my politics but they were all talking about the past, surely there's someone out there that is 'new' & would be good for the future of the country???
I left early, needless to say!!!
So after a few days on the beach; my leg got some great sea water into it and I continued adding penicillin until I got back to Bassam - which was quite a journey, only about 30km by road but I was waiting for Eme's taxi again, when a Lebanese friend's friend pulled up outside the Maquis. Dudu is Lebanese/Ghanaian born in CI, huge guy - offered me a lift to Bassam as he was going up to Abidjan and had managed to find a car and driver as his car was in a garage in Abidjan. Journey started well; he realised I knew Mimo the Lebanese from San Pedro as Mimo had been staying with him. Then the weed came out - no problem they could smoke if they wanted to - until he offered the driver some which had our vehicle driving on both sides of the road, in the bush and never in a straight line - luckily he wasnt going too fast but nevertheless we had oncoming trucks heading to Nigeria fully laden which we had a few near misses with!!!
I spent the first evening with Denis and a friend of his at a maquis to be joined by Eric + Diouf from the orphanage with some alarming news. One of the kids had come back from his grandfathers after Christmas with some money and two days later ran away ... Eric spent days looking around town for him (didn't know that he had money as he'd told all the kids to hand the money in), he was on Bassam radio, with the police (utterly incompetent) finally after 5 days the boys uncle rang from Abidjan to say the boy was with them. The family want the boy to return but I dont blame Eric, he doesn't want him back ...
Getting up early I said goodbye to Dudu the owner of Hotel Grace and paid my final 3,000CFA for the night. Wandered down to the gare routiere to find transport directly to Abidjan, one company has a pirogue on the lagoon so that you don't have to wait for the 'bac' across. Took forever thanks to some short guy with a personality complex of inferiority ... decided to throw us all out of one van and into a brand new vehicle; great except a tyre needed changing and they had to go off to find one. I was not impressed as I wanted to be in Abidjan early to get a few things done!
Finally we were on the road, got into the second vehicle the Sogon side of the lagoon and within a few kilometres almost ran over a gazelle of some type, stunning creature! Finally we reached Treichville after endless bottleneck jams in Abidjan prior to crossing the lagoon. I found a taxi or woro woro (shared taxi without a meter) and an honest driver and hopped in ... to then find he wanted me to stay at his for the night - here we go again ... no I needed a hotel, cheap one in Treichville or Zone 4 (where I knew cheap hotels don't exist).
He took me to Hotel Treichville on a promise that I'd call him later to go out, like I didn't have better things to do!!! Hotel Treichville was 10,000CFA a night with air-con, but didn't have anything without air-con; they sent me to Hotel du Prince (with my ever annoying taxi driver) on Av. 23; found a room with a shower & basin for 6,000CFA with a fan, probably the cheapest place in Abidjan. Opposite my window was the mosque, I knew I would be in for a delight early next morning, but the calling to prayers doesn't usually bother me, in fact I enjoy it! I had my doubts as to 'what type' of hotel I'd just booked into but I'd been to worse & it was clean!
Dumped everything, showered, changed into clothes that were more fit for Abidjan and not as to look like I was some country bumpkin and set off into town. Had an interesting day, met up with a friend I'd met a few weeks previously who works for FIF and went out for dinner with a friend who is with the BBC in Cote d'Ivoire. Had some interesting conversations at a gorgeous restaurant overlooking the lagoon in Cocody!
I left early the next morning to head to Treichville market to buy some bits & pieces, I also wanted a couple of pintade to take down to Assouinde for everyone. But then the thought of carrying 2+ live pintade (guinea fowl) and my two backpacks was a bit much when a whole cage of them got loose in the market & I realised that I could cause complete mayhem in a minibus down to Assouinde!!! I found the market cafe, waited very patiently to be served. All the market traders were having breakfast there & I had to wait till 9am to change money at the bank so joined them. Yet again the smallest, dirtiest little street cafe produces good food & great coffee!!!
Eventually caught a minibus to Bonoua where I hoped to find Eme & his taxi. After a bit of a mouthful from the guy trying to fill taxis who said 'Oi, blanche, tu va ou?' I gave him a lesson in diplomacy and pointed out if I yelled 'oi, noir' it wouldn't go down well. Eme came up to see what all the fuss was about and made him apologise to me ... think he learnt his lesson & I left my bags to go shopping. I found a youngster had tagged along with me wanting to carry my bags, tried to get rid of him but he was persistent & looked an absolute mess, very skinny, shredded clothes etc, so I held onto him. He carried my bags full of avocados, pineapples & plantain that I was taking to Assouinde with me. I spotted someone cooking brochettes & rongions .. so I bought one each for us; my little helper was thrilled. He deposited the bags in the back of Eme's taxi and was about to run off when I called him back & handed him 100CFA, he was astonished that I'd bought him food & paid him!
Another couple of days at the beach, doing not very much at all, very lazy, great to be back. Met a lovely Lebanese guy Mimo a friend of JB's who seemed to know all the other Lebanese I'd met, lives in San Pedro near the Liberian border. I wanted to return Arsene's tapettes (jandals, thongs, flip-flops - whichever language you speak)! But Arsene had just gone off to Burkina that morning & it seems that I probably passed him on the road as he was getting the train from Abidjan. I rang him having handed over the tapettes to Mack his brother & he died laughing at me for bringing them back!!!
The leg wound was getting worse, deeper, I kept pouring the powdered penicillin I'd bought in Jacqueville into it, bathing it in the sea. Getting a lot of advice from all of them ... but the worst of it was keeping the flies away from the wound, disgusting!
Billie, the owner of Blue Marin, the nightclub in the village came up to eat at Le Jardin a few times & invited me down to the club with him. Then it all started. Bedie, the former President had been on a 'tour' around the Sud-Comoe region & I stupidly mentioned that he'd been through Bassam & Bonoua, my transport had been held up because of him. Turns out that one of my friends is pro-Bedie whilst another is vehemently against him ... the argument went on over dinner with me trying to steer the conversation away from it all. Finally I suceeded & said I'd go down to the village later & to the club.
Arriving at the club, Billie wanted me to hear his politics & got the waitresses to set up a table & chairs in a far corner in the garden of the club. He started telling me his background, tribal roots etc when the others arrived & it all blew up again. They kept asking me, my opinion of it all; I pointed out that it's not my politics but they were all talking about the past, surely there's someone out there that is 'new' & would be good for the future of the country???
I left early, needless to say!!!
So after a few days on the beach; my leg got some great sea water into it and I continued adding penicillin until I got back to Bassam - which was quite a journey, only about 30km by road but I was waiting for Eme's taxi again, when a Lebanese friend's friend pulled up outside the Maquis. Dudu is Lebanese/Ghanaian born in CI, huge guy - offered me a lift to Bassam as he was going up to Abidjan and had managed to find a car and driver as his car was in a garage in Abidjan. Journey started well; he realised I knew Mimo the Lebanese from San Pedro as Mimo had been staying with him. Then the weed came out - no problem they could smoke if they wanted to - until he offered the driver some which had our vehicle driving on both sides of the road, in the bush and never in a straight line - luckily he wasnt going too fast but nevertheless we had oncoming trucks heading to Nigeria fully laden which we had a few near misses with!!!
I spent the first evening with Denis and a friend of his at a maquis to be joined by Eric + Diouf from the orphanage with some alarming news. One of the kids had come back from his grandfathers after Christmas with some money and two days later ran away ... Eric spent days looking around town for him (didn't know that he had money as he'd told all the kids to hand the money in), he was on Bassam radio, with the police (utterly incompetent) finally after 5 days the boys uncle rang from Abidjan to say the boy was with them. The family want the boy to return but I dont blame Eric, he doesn't want him back ...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
And so to hospital ...
What a drama, waited a while; finally got into a 'consulting room' where the doctor or was she a nurse??? was more interested in the Nollywood soap opera in the little room off it than her 3 patients. One girl lying on a bed with a fever (also glued to TV) and a small boy with his mum who didnt look good at all. She asked me if it hurt; I said yes, it stings a little - so that was my consultation -20mins later (of which ten was spent glued to TV) she produced a list of stuff I needed and a bill of 9,400CFA plus a 1,000CFA consultation fee which got laughter all round ... lots of smirks, la blanche was going to pay for everyone or so they thought!
I asked to see the list so I could read it myself (I was meant to go to the pharmacy 2km away to get this stuff too) and found all kinds of serum, vaccinations and a pair of sterile gloves ... I told her to scratch most of it off and start again, got it down to 7,500CFA plus the consultation fee of 1,000CFA. I went out into the corridor to re-join my new friend who'd been waiting patiently and we decided to leave - the list came down to a pair of gloves, betadine to clean the wound and a plaster ... I could do that myself!
However, the hospital receptionist was not letting me get away without paying the consultation fee. I said 'what consultation fee???' I'd had three words said to me 'Ca fait mal?' but no she'd already written out my consultation ticket & had to pay for it. To save an argument I handed over the 1,000CFA and we left laughing!
So a quick trip to the pharmacy I came out only 1,500CFA lighter after advice from the pharmacy staff with a bottle of penicillin powder and the necessary bits and pieces ... my leg was still a mess, but at least it was healing!
I asked to see the list so I could read it myself (I was meant to go to the pharmacy 2km away to get this stuff too) and found all kinds of serum, vaccinations and a pair of sterile gloves ... I told her to scratch most of it off and start again, got it down to 7,500CFA plus the consultation fee of 1,000CFA. I went out into the corridor to re-join my new friend who'd been waiting patiently and we decided to leave - the list came down to a pair of gloves, betadine to clean the wound and a plaster ... I could do that myself!
However, the hospital receptionist was not letting me get away without paying the consultation fee. I said 'what consultation fee???' I'd had three words said to me 'Ca fait mal?' but no she'd already written out my consultation ticket & had to pay for it. To save an argument I handed over the 1,000CFA and we left laughing!
So a quick trip to the pharmacy I came out only 1,500CFA lighter after advice from the pharmacy staff with a bottle of penicillin powder and the necessary bits and pieces ... my leg was still a mess, but at least it was healing!
The coast beckons!
Leaving Bouake I had no idea where I was going. South, sea, sand, beach ... were all in my mind plus the salt water would do my infected leg the world of good. So I headed for Dabou on the 'coast' - actually on a lagoon.
I got to Bouake's gare routiere at 7am, it was hell. Reminded me of Senegal, touts all over who all spotted 'la blanche' at once; I walked off to the market & ignored the lot of them! Re-emerging from the market not having spotted anywhere for a coffee, I braved finding a minibus driver to get a front seat on something heading to Yamassoukro, still not sure of my final destination of Dabou.
The driver told me where to get off in Yamoussoukro to get transport for Abidjan. Either he didn't know Yamoussoukro or he wasn't listening but I ended up about 2km away from the gare routiere for Abidjan. Yet again touts descended on me and when I asked the price for a ticket to Eboli, about 80km short of Abidjan they gave me some ridiculous price. My phone came out, I rang Ibi - he was worried for me & wanted to come & help but there was no need, I just needed the price of a ticket to Abidjan so I could work out how much less it should be to Eboli.
Got on a very hot minibus and headed south for Abidjan. Finally we reached the Eboli checkpoint on the autoroute. According to my map there was a village at Eboli but I couldn't see one, yet the driver wanted me off there ... I refused & asked him to drop me at the edge of the village. I walked off the autoroute and 2km through the village asking around for a taxi, I found the gare routiere with taxi's bound for Sikensi where apparently I'd find a taxi for Dabou. It was HOT!!! I got lucky & found a taxi that was ready to leave once I was on board. However I then discovered that the taxi's for Sikensi left from Becedi, not Sikensi. So I had to get another taxi to Becedi which is where I met Abru.
Abru was a lovely guy, saw I was exhausted, stunned I'd managed to get from Bouake since the morning and asked if I'd eaten yet. I said no, so he offered me lunch. Yet again I had another offer of sincere Ivorian hospitality. We got to Becedi & right next to the gare routiere was a maquis. He ordered rice & sauce, or so I thought, but out of the kitchen came the most wonderful piece of meat with a fantastic sauce; turned out to be venison. Abru was telling me about a festival in his village which one day I'd love to go to, gory as it sounded. Apparently they slit their stomachs open so the intestines are showing and then push the folds of skin together and bind it shut with an egg!!! I kid you not! Not for the faint-hearted but would be amazing to see ....
11hrs, 2 minibuses, 6 taxi's, a kilometre walk off the motorway through a village in the middle of the day and a boat later (with a very short temper by the time I got there!!) I was in Jacqueville having been persuaded to go there by Abru. I wasn't too enamoured with Dabou when I went through it, so spent an hour or so in the gare routiere there waiting for transport & being chatted up by a Malinke!
Jacqueville was gorgeous; blew me away; reminded me so much of NZ; so many bachs/cribs - great people; good vibe - I was thrilled except I couldn't swim as the sea was too dangerous! I met a Franco-Ivorienne who lives there, near retirement in France she was happy in Jacqueville and very confused when people met her off the Abidjan transport to tell her that another 'blanche' had turned up. What confused her further was I'd been asking around for someone to change my euros on the black market & everyone had said she might be interested. Unfortunately she wasn't and my 'day off' was looking doomed with an enforced trip into Abidjan just to change money. However a lovely guy called Guy finally sorted it all out for me!
My new 'blanche' friend examined my leg wound which was a bit of a mess by the time I got to Jacqueville and we decided to go to hospital ...
I got to Bouake's gare routiere at 7am, it was hell. Reminded me of Senegal, touts all over who all spotted 'la blanche' at once; I walked off to the market & ignored the lot of them! Re-emerging from the market not having spotted anywhere for a coffee, I braved finding a minibus driver to get a front seat on something heading to Yamassoukro, still not sure of my final destination of Dabou.
The driver told me where to get off in Yamoussoukro to get transport for Abidjan. Either he didn't know Yamoussoukro or he wasn't listening but I ended up about 2km away from the gare routiere for Abidjan. Yet again touts descended on me and when I asked the price for a ticket to Eboli, about 80km short of Abidjan they gave me some ridiculous price. My phone came out, I rang Ibi - he was worried for me & wanted to come & help but there was no need, I just needed the price of a ticket to Abidjan so I could work out how much less it should be to Eboli.
Got on a very hot minibus and headed south for Abidjan. Finally we reached the Eboli checkpoint on the autoroute. According to my map there was a village at Eboli but I couldn't see one, yet the driver wanted me off there ... I refused & asked him to drop me at the edge of the village. I walked off the autoroute and 2km through the village asking around for a taxi, I found the gare routiere with taxi's bound for Sikensi where apparently I'd find a taxi for Dabou. It was HOT!!! I got lucky & found a taxi that was ready to leave once I was on board. However I then discovered that the taxi's for Sikensi left from Becedi, not Sikensi. So I had to get another taxi to Becedi which is where I met Abru.
Abru was a lovely guy, saw I was exhausted, stunned I'd managed to get from Bouake since the morning and asked if I'd eaten yet. I said no, so he offered me lunch. Yet again I had another offer of sincere Ivorian hospitality. We got to Becedi & right next to the gare routiere was a maquis. He ordered rice & sauce, or so I thought, but out of the kitchen came the most wonderful piece of meat with a fantastic sauce; turned out to be venison. Abru was telling me about a festival in his village which one day I'd love to go to, gory as it sounded. Apparently they slit their stomachs open so the intestines are showing and then push the folds of skin together and bind it shut with an egg!!! I kid you not! Not for the faint-hearted but would be amazing to see ....
11hrs, 2 minibuses, 6 taxi's, a kilometre walk off the motorway through a village in the middle of the day and a boat later (with a very short temper by the time I got there!!) I was in Jacqueville having been persuaded to go there by Abru. I wasn't too enamoured with Dabou when I went through it, so spent an hour or so in the gare routiere there waiting for transport & being chatted up by a Malinke!
Jacqueville was gorgeous; blew me away; reminded me so much of NZ; so many bachs/cribs - great people; good vibe - I was thrilled except I couldn't swim as the sea was too dangerous! I met a Franco-Ivorienne who lives there, near retirement in France she was happy in Jacqueville and very confused when people met her off the Abidjan transport to tell her that another 'blanche' had turned up. What confused her further was I'd been asking around for someone to change my euros on the black market & everyone had said she might be interested. Unfortunately she wasn't and my 'day off' was looking doomed with an enforced trip into Abidjan just to change money. However a lovely guy called Guy finally sorted it all out for me!
My new 'blanche' friend examined my leg wound which was a bit of a mess by the time I got to Jacqueville and we decided to go to hospital ...
Friday, January 9, 2009
Yamoussoukro & into 'rebel zone'
Entered the capital Yamoussoukro from Abengourou; long & seemingly expensive minibus ride of 6.5hrs because of the driver who really didnt know how to drive or change gear!!! Overjoyed to be in town at 6pm having not eaten for 11hrs but had drunk several litres of water I found a lovely taxi driver called Ibi.
Ibi took me to a few hotels before I found something seemingly 'suitable' - turned out it was another brothel but I was too tired to move and it seemed OK; at least the security was better than a Bassam hotel; it was cheaper and the door locked well!!!! I had Ibi's number and he picked me up and drove me all over the place! I had planned to move 'hotels' in the morning, to find one that preferably had water when you turn the shower on; so that I ddin't have to scream down corridors to get it all working!!!
Unfortunately I didn't spend long in Yamoussoukro or go up to Koussou, to the NW. Tired but getting text messages from a friend in Bassam I decided I had to visit my friend's hometown of Bouake and maybe onto Katiola. I had some fascination of Katiola, I still don't know why; my hotelier friend's wife in Assinie is from Katiola & maybe that drove me to wanting to go there.
Yamoussoukro is weird. It's not an African capital. It's European, with a modern architectural/town planning influence but with the most gorgeous lily lakes in the centre .. it feels like the city's still not fully formed. People there were lovely, very open and arriving in town I discovered I had a military convoy as company whilst Ibi was trying to find a cheap hotel for me; all very surreal!
Ibi dropped me at a Lebanese restaurant that served burgers in a nouvelle cuisine sort of style for a price that could be paid in any large city. I wasn't impressed, it was my fault, I'd seen an internet cafe and realised the restaurant was next door but I was miles from anything else & my weary body wasn't in the mood to move any further!!! Spent a few hours between sending e-mails, eating & refreshing myself before I realised there was a far better option just around the corner. More fool me!
The following morning I had a look at the cut on my leg I did on the way to Assouinde. It didn't look good. I went off in search of a pharmacy and found one nearby and bought a cream, crossing the road to Yamoussoukro's version of my Starbucks I met Ibi. Apparently he lived nearby; didn't start work till 2pm so we sat and had a coffee together and a chat ... he was telling me that work has really dried up.
During the crisis things were bad but now it was even worse, taxi drivers were driving around empty for hours on end ... He organised a taxi for me that I commandered to take me past the Basilicia for a photo then down to the gates of the Presidential Palace where there's a crocodile pool. Amazingly at the crocodile pool some guy quietly asked if I'd like to buy a chicken to throw to the crocs, no pressure; just asked & being money conscious I turned the offer down. Nowhere else in Africa would you get that, it would be constant pressure to pay for one!
Having explored the market, had a coffee & been clock watching I had two choices; to go to Bouake that afternoon or to move hotels by 12pm. I chose Bouake, I needed to do laundry, I needed a different hotel and seeing as Bouake was just over an hour away I thought it wouldn't hurt doing a short journey despite being tired.
Getting into Bouake was an eye-opener, just on the edge of town is 'La Corridor Sud', essentially a checkpoint set up by the rebels to divide the Cote d'Ivoire between north & south. On the way there there were more & more checkpoints manned by CI soldiers. Getting there I had a young unfriendly militaire & for the first time this year ask for a cadeau, the guy next to me gave him 500CFA I did the usual shrugging of shoulders, don't speak French routine and stayed firmly in the van. He told me to get out and go through the control, but strangely enough I didnt understand French. Interesting thing was that the others on my minibus said I should have been stamped into Bouake, so I kept my fingers crossed the police didn't ask for my passport ... oh well such is life in Africa!!!
Sitting in Bouake I decided not to carry on north as I was too tired! Bouake was a little 'hot' shall we say ... leaving Yamoussoukro I asked around and everyone said it was fine but being there was another thing, people are certainly suspicious as to 'why' I was there, the friendliness had gone and I got the feeling its still a little jittery - the UN were all over the place I wasn't too worried. It was sad seeing so many of the buildings around town that had been shelled during the crisis.
Had some great conversations there about the situation past and present. Firstly I met a Burkinabe who had a restaurant in town who sat and chatted with me, telling me about how he stayed put during the crisis & gunfire happening 15m away from his front door. Whilst he was telling me this I had a boy come over. He said he was 12, at school, but his parents had returned to Burkina Faso & he had nothing. The story really didn't add up, I asked him over & over again what exactly was going on. I offered to call Abidjan and take him back with me to the centre which gave him a look of shock in his eyes. Finally I lost patience with him having conferred with the restaurant owner about the boys background which was in fact far better than he was making it out to be, the boy was well known as a scrounger!
That evening I went to an allocodrome next to the auberge I was staying at (having done all my laundry & hoping it would dry by the morning). The lady who owned it was a head teacher, she came and had a drink with me telling me about the delay on getting registered to vote, she'd only registered the week before yet the elections should have been held on 30th November 2008. She went through hell during the conflict, her house was almost gutted and left for a year to stay with relatives in Yamoussoukro. However her neighbour, a gendarme, came home to find nothing left of his house, even the ceilings had gone! Then I had an interesting chat with a young guy Jean-Marcel who was one of the rebels but accepted the 80,000CFA x 2 payout to leave and is now setting up a phone kiosk at La Corridor!
Spending the night in Bouake, it was fine, the rebels are still very much in charge there although seemingly weaponless; cadeaux were demanded at any point but with my refusal to understand or speak French they didnt get very far with me! I managed to get a pic of La Corridor Sud on my way back south which is 'the boundary' between north and south, the north being controlled by the rebels; they werent happy with my camera being out but knew I was the 'difficult one' who didn't speak or understand French so couldn't do much about it!
My Irish friend was a well-known man in Bouake!!! Everyone I talked to about imprisoning foreigners came up with the story of one of my camerades who was in jail in Bouake on 17th March 2007, got laughs all round when I confessed to meeting him in a brothel in Bissau!!!
Ibi took me to a few hotels before I found something seemingly 'suitable' - turned out it was another brothel but I was too tired to move and it seemed OK; at least the security was better than a Bassam hotel; it was cheaper and the door locked well!!!! I had Ibi's number and he picked me up and drove me all over the place! I had planned to move 'hotels' in the morning, to find one that preferably had water when you turn the shower on; so that I ddin't have to scream down corridors to get it all working!!!
Unfortunately I didn't spend long in Yamoussoukro or go up to Koussou, to the NW. Tired but getting text messages from a friend in Bassam I decided I had to visit my friend's hometown of Bouake and maybe onto Katiola. I had some fascination of Katiola, I still don't know why; my hotelier friend's wife in Assinie is from Katiola & maybe that drove me to wanting to go there.
Yamoussoukro is weird. It's not an African capital. It's European, with a modern architectural/town planning influence but with the most gorgeous lily lakes in the centre .. it feels like the city's still not fully formed. People there were lovely, very open and arriving in town I discovered I had a military convoy as company whilst Ibi was trying to find a cheap hotel for me; all very surreal!
Ibi dropped me at a Lebanese restaurant that served burgers in a nouvelle cuisine sort of style for a price that could be paid in any large city. I wasn't impressed, it was my fault, I'd seen an internet cafe and realised the restaurant was next door but I was miles from anything else & my weary body wasn't in the mood to move any further!!! Spent a few hours between sending e-mails, eating & refreshing myself before I realised there was a far better option just around the corner. More fool me!
The following morning I had a look at the cut on my leg I did on the way to Assouinde. It didn't look good. I went off in search of a pharmacy and found one nearby and bought a cream, crossing the road to Yamoussoukro's version of my Starbucks I met Ibi. Apparently he lived nearby; didn't start work till 2pm so we sat and had a coffee together and a chat ... he was telling me that work has really dried up.
During the crisis things were bad but now it was even worse, taxi drivers were driving around empty for hours on end ... He organised a taxi for me that I commandered to take me past the Basilicia for a photo then down to the gates of the Presidential Palace where there's a crocodile pool. Amazingly at the crocodile pool some guy quietly asked if I'd like to buy a chicken to throw to the crocs, no pressure; just asked & being money conscious I turned the offer down. Nowhere else in Africa would you get that, it would be constant pressure to pay for one!
Having explored the market, had a coffee & been clock watching I had two choices; to go to Bouake that afternoon or to move hotels by 12pm. I chose Bouake, I needed to do laundry, I needed a different hotel and seeing as Bouake was just over an hour away I thought it wouldn't hurt doing a short journey despite being tired.
Getting into Bouake was an eye-opener, just on the edge of town is 'La Corridor Sud', essentially a checkpoint set up by the rebels to divide the Cote d'Ivoire between north & south. On the way there there were more & more checkpoints manned by CI soldiers. Getting there I had a young unfriendly militaire & for the first time this year ask for a cadeau, the guy next to me gave him 500CFA I did the usual shrugging of shoulders, don't speak French routine and stayed firmly in the van. He told me to get out and go through the control, but strangely enough I didnt understand French. Interesting thing was that the others on my minibus said I should have been stamped into Bouake, so I kept my fingers crossed the police didn't ask for my passport ... oh well such is life in Africa!!!
Sitting in Bouake I decided not to carry on north as I was too tired! Bouake was a little 'hot' shall we say ... leaving Yamoussoukro I asked around and everyone said it was fine but being there was another thing, people are certainly suspicious as to 'why' I was there, the friendliness had gone and I got the feeling its still a little jittery - the UN were all over the place I wasn't too worried. It was sad seeing so many of the buildings around town that had been shelled during the crisis.
Had some great conversations there about the situation past and present. Firstly I met a Burkinabe who had a restaurant in town who sat and chatted with me, telling me about how he stayed put during the crisis & gunfire happening 15m away from his front door. Whilst he was telling me this I had a boy come over. He said he was 12, at school, but his parents had returned to Burkina Faso & he had nothing. The story really didn't add up, I asked him over & over again what exactly was going on. I offered to call Abidjan and take him back with me to the centre which gave him a look of shock in his eyes. Finally I lost patience with him having conferred with the restaurant owner about the boys background which was in fact far better than he was making it out to be, the boy was well known as a scrounger!
That evening I went to an allocodrome next to the auberge I was staying at (having done all my laundry & hoping it would dry by the morning). The lady who owned it was a head teacher, she came and had a drink with me telling me about the delay on getting registered to vote, she'd only registered the week before yet the elections should have been held on 30th November 2008. She went through hell during the conflict, her house was almost gutted and left for a year to stay with relatives in Yamoussoukro. However her neighbour, a gendarme, came home to find nothing left of his house, even the ceilings had gone! Then I had an interesting chat with a young guy Jean-Marcel who was one of the rebels but accepted the 80,000CFA x 2 payout to leave and is now setting up a phone kiosk at La Corridor!
Spending the night in Bouake, it was fine, the rebels are still very much in charge there although seemingly weaponless; cadeaux were demanded at any point but with my refusal to understand or speak French they didnt get very far with me! I managed to get a pic of La Corridor Sud on my way back south which is 'the boundary' between north and south, the north being controlled by the rebels; they werent happy with my camera being out but knew I was the 'difficult one' who didn't speak or understand French so couldn't do much about it!
My Irish friend was a well-known man in Bouake!!! Everyone I talked to about imprisoning foreigners came up with the story of one of my camerades who was in jail in Bouake on 17th March 2007, got laughs all round when I confessed to meeting him in a brothel in Bissau!!!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Heading into the wild north ...
Arriving in Binouan was like arriving in the wild west; its in the centre of cocoa, coffee, banana and rubber plantations. There hasnt been anyone white through this way since before the war - from Ayame onwards the amounts of gasps I heard and 'ohhh, une blanche' was hysterical.
My new-found friends in Ayame called a friend in Binouan to look after me. I was in the front of the minibus with a guy who knew my Binouan contact so he set me up at a new hotel in Binouan behind the pharmacy; then I went off for food + drink after a hot, dusty 3hr ride from Ayame! I was soon at my new contacts place, 2km the other end of the village. He had sent a boy on a motorbike to get me; a great guy, Nigerian by origin who was born in Cote d'Ivoire speaks French and Yoruba but finds English difficult! His youngest was 15months and was very sick that night with stomach cramps and fever. Yet again, Ivorian hospitality came in abundance, a Flag was put in front of me on arrival and then his wife cooked for me; they refused to let me pay for anything including the refreshments!!! I have a lot of making up to do on my return!
The next morning I walked the length of Binouan with my 2 packs .. had coffee with the family whilst waiting for transport. The transport never arrived. I then found my pack being strapped onto the back of a motorbike by my friend. Some 16yr old driver he'd found was going to take me through the bush to pick up transport further north. Hesitantly I hopped on behind him to do a 15km journey through the bush to Attiekro to pick up transport there. I warned him before we set off not to go too madly but he didnt listen so about 1km out of Binouan he got his ear twisted ... we were friends by the end of the 40min journey!!!
At Attiekro I sat in the sun for an hour or so waiting for transport, got on a 22seat minibus which after an hour decided to stop! We were to change, but the village where we stopped had another 22 odd people already waiting to go to Abengourou, I could see it was going to be a fight to get on! At Attiekro, I'd met Francois a student, who tried to organise the front seat for me, but that wasnt going to work. So when the minibus turned up, Francois + friends ran onto it and grabbed seats followed by another 35 or so all trying to get on. The big guy in charge argued with Francois until he saw me asking the driver for the front seat and told me to take the place Francois had got me, but with 35 odd trying to get on board I had to climb onto the fuel tank and go in via the windowless windows!!! Once seated we were 6 across each row unlike 4 across in the other ones I've been in here due to the sheer volume of passengers! Lots of arguments yelling etc going on ... but then the driver told me to get out again (via window of course!) and get in the front!!!
So I got to Abengourou, it was lovely; fresher than further south, my friend from Binouan rang a friend of his who worked for the former French company, Unifoods. He met me in Abengourou and I was installed at his house with his wife and 4kids who bent over backwards to make me welcome!!!
Leopold is a classic example of what has happened to people since the crisis started in 1999. He & his wife were at school together, went to university together. She became a teacher & luckily has kept her job. Leopold meanwhile has been unemployed since 2004; their eldest daughter of 14 is at school in Grand Bassam and he wants to send her to the UK to train as a doctor. The house isn't finished, he started doing it up whilst he had a job. The company he worked for was French, the managers all fled the Cote d'Ivoire during the crisis and left the company floundering; it's now been bought by the Lebanese who have tightened their belts and not offered Leopold his job back. He's desperate for something to do other than being a house husband.
The following morning their daughter, gave me a doughnut at around 7am for breakfast but then I discovered we were off to church, Pentecostal church and I had to dance (I don't do Sunday mornings, church or dancing in or on either, but I tried to smile!!!). I left a few hours later to get transport to the capital Yamoussoukro, famished!
My new-found friends in Ayame called a friend in Binouan to look after me. I was in the front of the minibus with a guy who knew my Binouan contact so he set me up at a new hotel in Binouan behind the pharmacy; then I went off for food + drink after a hot, dusty 3hr ride from Ayame! I was soon at my new contacts place, 2km the other end of the village. He had sent a boy on a motorbike to get me; a great guy, Nigerian by origin who was born in Cote d'Ivoire speaks French and Yoruba but finds English difficult! His youngest was 15months and was very sick that night with stomach cramps and fever. Yet again, Ivorian hospitality came in abundance, a Flag was put in front of me on arrival and then his wife cooked for me; they refused to let me pay for anything including the refreshments!!! I have a lot of making up to do on my return!
The next morning I walked the length of Binouan with my 2 packs .. had coffee with the family whilst waiting for transport. The transport never arrived. I then found my pack being strapped onto the back of a motorbike by my friend. Some 16yr old driver he'd found was going to take me through the bush to pick up transport further north. Hesitantly I hopped on behind him to do a 15km journey through the bush to Attiekro to pick up transport there. I warned him before we set off not to go too madly but he didnt listen so about 1km out of Binouan he got his ear twisted ... we were friends by the end of the 40min journey!!!
At Attiekro I sat in the sun for an hour or so waiting for transport, got on a 22seat minibus which after an hour decided to stop! We were to change, but the village where we stopped had another 22 odd people already waiting to go to Abengourou, I could see it was going to be a fight to get on! At Attiekro, I'd met Francois a student, who tried to organise the front seat for me, but that wasnt going to work. So when the minibus turned up, Francois + friends ran onto it and grabbed seats followed by another 35 or so all trying to get on. The big guy in charge argued with Francois until he saw me asking the driver for the front seat and told me to take the place Francois had got me, but with 35 odd trying to get on board I had to climb onto the fuel tank and go in via the windowless windows!!! Once seated we were 6 across each row unlike 4 across in the other ones I've been in here due to the sheer volume of passengers! Lots of arguments yelling etc going on ... but then the driver told me to get out again (via window of course!) and get in the front!!!
So I got to Abengourou, it was lovely; fresher than further south, my friend from Binouan rang a friend of his who worked for the former French company, Unifoods. He met me in Abengourou and I was installed at his house with his wife and 4kids who bent over backwards to make me welcome!!!
Leopold is a classic example of what has happened to people since the crisis started in 1999. He & his wife were at school together, went to university together. She became a teacher & luckily has kept her job. Leopold meanwhile has been unemployed since 2004; their eldest daughter of 14 is at school in Grand Bassam and he wants to send her to the UK to train as a doctor. The house isn't finished, he started doing it up whilst he had a job. The company he worked for was French, the managers all fled the Cote d'Ivoire during the crisis and left the company floundering; it's now been bought by the Lebanese who have tightened their belts and not offered Leopold his job back. He's desperate for something to do other than being a house husband.
The following morning their daughter, gave me a doughnut at around 7am for breakfast but then I discovered we were off to church, Pentecostal church and I had to dance (I don't do Sunday mornings, church or dancing in or on either, but I tried to smile!!!). I left a few hours later to get transport to the capital Yamoussoukro, famished!
Friday, January 2, 2009
Another Christmas & New Year in West Africa
Christmas was great; started on 23rd for me with a great party at the centre with Noel celebrations. The kids were super excited as Pere Noel (in the form of Etienne, one of the guys in the Abidjan office) was coming and I had promised to spend the night at the centre with the kids. I was presented to all and sundry; sat between the Mayor of Bassam and the King of Old Bassam whilst trying to butter up the representatives of the 43eme regiment from France to bring out more stuff to the orphanage for me!!!
Decided to head down to Assouinde on 24th to see Ivorian & Burkinabe friends there. The journey started well; got a taxi to Samo from the Grand Bassam gare routiere. However as I got out and held the door open with my leg (as you do with old bangers!) and got a rusty nail in the side of my leg! Blood streaming out I sat on the side of the road with my bits of a first aid and sewing kits putting myself back together! Lots of expats and Lebanese drove past in flash cars and when I finally stood up I had an offer of a lift from two Ivorian guys - wish I hadnt turned it down - it took another hour to get the taxi filled before we were on the move!
The guys in Assouinde were disappointed Dani wasnt with me, even little Ama now known as 'Princesse' Ama asked where she was! But they were all as kind as ever, spent 4 great days at the beach, listening to an endless collection of reggae, drinking too many Flags, getting meals from strange men who were eating at the maquis and lots of attention from Ama who I met last year who's now 5 and grown!! Spent just about every night at Dani's favourite nightclub, Blue Marin!!!
I headed off rather sadly for Ayame, a town that sits on the edge of a lake which has the second largest dam in CI and produces a lot of electricity. Got a taxi in Samo from Assouinde where a lady told me I have feet like Mme Gbago (Presidents wife) - it was meant as a compliment but Im dying to find a photo of her feet!!! I had a good laugh over that one!
In Ayame I got out of the taxi + pounced on by the deputy mayor who took me to an auberge for 4000CFA and completely under his wing with a group of friends of his. Lovely spot but it was soo hot, everyone was complaining and Ayame was no exception!!! They would not let me leave before New Years Eve, even rang the Mayor in Abidjan to tell him of my arrival. The deputy Mayor's wife who became a good friend; cooked meals daily for me and refused payment - another prime example of Ivorian attitude!
On New Years Eve, he and I went to Aboisso for me to use the internet and send an email and for him to do some banking! We were driven there by a mad elderly Italian nun, Sister Ana who was 80-odd apparently, lived in CI for 35yrs and would rival any Formula 1 rally driver, overtaking on blind bends with the horn pressed hard! I said my prayers that morning for the first time in a very long time!
New Years started around lunchtime New Years Eve and finished sometime around 10pm New Years day, I did manage to get some sleep; non-stop music, food, dancing ... it was all a bit mad.
New Years Day I was invited to the Mayors house for a champagne breakfast ... had an interesting chat with him about people I know in Cote d'Ivoire!!! He took me off to meet the village elders as on 31st the village chief had died, weird being sat next to the mayor on the best chairs the elders could provide us, discussing the arrangements for the chief's burial; very sad time ... women were crying endlessly ...
I finally left Ayame in a minibus to go the 66km up to Binouan, the first 15km was tarred then it turned into piste, lots of snakes around ... then horror of horrors, a truck just like the one I got in
Guinea had just overturned in front of us .. held us up a bit whilst they arranged a winch around a tree to pull it upright again, luckily the driver wasn't hurt! Made my heart pound a little!!!
Decided to head down to Assouinde on 24th to see Ivorian & Burkinabe friends there. The journey started well; got a taxi to Samo from the Grand Bassam gare routiere. However as I got out and held the door open with my leg (as you do with old bangers!) and got a rusty nail in the side of my leg! Blood streaming out I sat on the side of the road with my bits of a first aid and sewing kits putting myself back together! Lots of expats and Lebanese drove past in flash cars and when I finally stood up I had an offer of a lift from two Ivorian guys - wish I hadnt turned it down - it took another hour to get the taxi filled before we were on the move!
The guys in Assouinde were disappointed Dani wasnt with me, even little Ama now known as 'Princesse' Ama asked where she was! But they were all as kind as ever, spent 4 great days at the beach, listening to an endless collection of reggae, drinking too many Flags, getting meals from strange men who were eating at the maquis and lots of attention from Ama who I met last year who's now 5 and grown!! Spent just about every night at Dani's favourite nightclub, Blue Marin!!!
I headed off rather sadly for Ayame, a town that sits on the edge of a lake which has the second largest dam in CI and produces a lot of electricity. Got a taxi in Samo from Assouinde where a lady told me I have feet like Mme Gbago (Presidents wife) - it was meant as a compliment but Im dying to find a photo of her feet!!! I had a good laugh over that one!
In Ayame I got out of the taxi + pounced on by the deputy mayor who took me to an auberge for 4000CFA and completely under his wing with a group of friends of his. Lovely spot but it was soo hot, everyone was complaining and Ayame was no exception!!! They would not let me leave before New Years Eve, even rang the Mayor in Abidjan to tell him of my arrival. The deputy Mayor's wife who became a good friend; cooked meals daily for me and refused payment - another prime example of Ivorian attitude!
On New Years Eve, he and I went to Aboisso for me to use the internet and send an email and for him to do some banking! We were driven there by a mad elderly Italian nun, Sister Ana who was 80-odd apparently, lived in CI for 35yrs and would rival any Formula 1 rally driver, overtaking on blind bends with the horn pressed hard! I said my prayers that morning for the first time in a very long time!
New Years started around lunchtime New Years Eve and finished sometime around 10pm New Years day, I did manage to get some sleep; non-stop music, food, dancing ... it was all a bit mad.
New Years Day I was invited to the Mayors house for a champagne breakfast ... had an interesting chat with him about people I know in Cote d'Ivoire!!! He took me off to meet the village elders as on 31st the village chief had died, weird being sat next to the mayor on the best chairs the elders could provide us, discussing the arrangements for the chief's burial; very sad time ... women were crying endlessly ...
I finally left Ayame in a minibus to go the 66km up to Binouan, the first 15km was tarred then it turned into piste, lots of snakes around ... then horror of horrors, a truck just like the one I got in
Guinea had just overturned in front of us .. held us up a bit whilst they arranged a winch around a tree to pull it upright again, luckily the driver wasn't hurt! Made my heart pound a little!!!
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