Bonjour, Officer

"Je ne comprends pas!" The officer slapped the seatbelt out of my hand for a second time. "What the hell is going on?!" I turn to Andy. "He says it's finished. He wants to see our passports." Andy didn't have his on him. The officer could haul him to jail if he wanted to. He kept yelling in French. I didn't know what was being said until I heard "dix mille." We had to bribe him with 10,000 CFA so Andy didn't get locked up in a country still getting over a civil war that happened 4 years prior. That cop was definitely not our favorite Ivorian.

This last weekend we went to Cote d'Ivoire. Cote d'Ivoire (in English, Ivory Coast) is now only a shell of what it once was. Back in the '70s it was a major tourist destination for Europeans. Abidjan, its cultural and economic capital, was once hailed the "Paris of West Africa." Its first president, Felix Houphouet-Boigny, embraced capitalism and took a new approach to post-Colonialism--he kept very close ties with France instead of trying to separate from it. Cote d'Ivoire enjoyed hears of rapid development and economic boom. The economy grew 10% each year for 20 years. Then the '80s came along. Markets crashed, and in a country whose economy and development depended on agriculture, not industrialization, the food market crashes were devastating. Throughout the '80s the country saw crash after crash, leaving the economy crushed. In 1990, violent student protests broke out along with a civil servant strike. They blamed the government officials for the crisis, saying it was because of corruption and overindulgence by the officials. Houphouet-Boigny died in 1993, and his successor was removed from power via coup in 1999. After several struggles, Laurent Gbagbo gained presidency in 2000 and has ruled since. Several coup attempts occurred after the 2000 elections and tensions soon turned into a full-scale rebellion from the Muslim north. Combat officially ended in 2004, but since then violence has not been absent. The rebels still control the north and splits between them has caused more violence. The south has seen anti-UN violence, too. The UN has actually created a neutral zone through the center of the country. The most recent presidential elections were supposed to happen November 30--in about a week and a half--however, it was announced a few days before we left for Abidjan that they are postponed indefinitely.

The trip started off pretty interestingly. Mike, Andy and Mary left on Thursday. Shauna and I left Friday because I had problems with getting my visa on time. The bus was scheduled to leave at 4 am. The ride to the station Shauna and I were supposed to get never answered his phone. And we needed to get there early because I didn't have a bus ticket yet. The security guards at our dorm wouldn't walk us to the front gate, even though I'm pretty sure that's their job. Miraculously we got a ride from a kind man named Pinto after dashing to the front gate by ourselves.

The bus worked on African time, so it left at around 530. Like usual, the Nigerian movies being shown on the bus were way too loud, making sleep difficult and forcing me to blast my iPod in order to hear it. But, I shouldn't complain-- it was a pretty nice bus. We finally reached the border. On the Ghanaian side I ended up having to buy a fake yellow fever vaccination certificate for about 5 USD. It's a real certificate--it's just not quite honest that I got my vaccination 4 days before in Takoradi, Ghana. So then we go to the Ivorian side of the border. For some reason Shauna, a Senegalese man, a Moroccan woman, a man from Guinea, and I were pulled out from the rest of the group and held for extra questions. While being questioned, apparently the rest of the bus finished and left. We realized this as it started pouring rain. We ran a ways and then all squished into a taxi and chased down the bus. Luckily we found it not too far away.

Frazzled but excited, we finally started heading towards Abidjan again. There were a few police checkpoints (which are currently found all over Cote d'Ivoire), one at which I witnessed my first bribe; the guy in front of me slipped an officer some money so he wouldn't check his luggage.

Finally in Abidjan! We got there just after darkness fell so we asked a friend we made on the bus, Zain, to help us with getting a taxi to our hotel because we couldn't speak French. We said goodbye to our border buddies and hopped into a cab with Zain. Zain then told us that the Moroccan woman had shown him a picture of a girl she was trying to sell--apparently she was a Madam. He said that the Lebanese (he's of Lebanese descent) have a bad reputation for buying prostitutes in Cote d'Ivoire. Then he said something along the lines of American girls need to be especially careful not to be sold into prostitution, or something. I couldn't really understand him.

The cab dropped him off at this brother's pub, he gave us money for the fare, and then we went on to our hotel. Abidjan's downtown, Le Plateau, is absolutely breathtaking, particularly at night. It's surrounded by a lagoon so one main highway goes directly towards it. All lit up at night, downtown is a cluster of skyscrapers and bright signs. And all the colors reflected in the water surrounding it. I felt like I was in a dream.

Mike and Andy met us at the front gate of the hotel and we got to take our first hot showers in months. The next morning we set off for Cote d'Ivoire's official capital, Yamoussoukro, which is about 5 hours north. On our way to the bus station these guys tapped on our windows and actually jumped on our taxi to follow us to the station. They were doing it to other cars, too. Once at the station they wouldn't leave us alone. They were begging for money and once they insulted Andy in French and started to seem threatening, Andy threw them 100 Francs, equivalent .25 USD. Finally they left. The bus ride up was interesting, too. At one checkpoint a fist-fight was luckily contained and didn't erupt into a bigger fight. Andy was pulled off the bus at one point and asked a few questions by the military. When we got to Yamoussoukro it was already about 3 pm so we went straight to an ATM (at which my card didn't work so Mike covered me the whole trip) and then went to the Basilica.

The Basilique de Notre Dame de la Paix made everything worth it. It's actually the tallest church in the world. The dome of St. Peter's is slightly taller, by request of the Pope, but the Basilica's golden cross extends the highest, therefore making it number one. It is stunningly beautiful. We went to the roof and could see the gardens in front of it, along with a huge peace dove built into the ground in front. It was so peaceful and relaxing. A strange contrast to the country's state. Back in 2004, Yamoussoukro saw a lot of the blood and violence, it being in the middle of the country. After getting our tour, we sat on its front steps for about 45 minutes and just soaked in the quiet. Darkness was about to fall so we decided to go find a hotel. At first our taxi driver took us to a super shady hotel. Located in the slums, it was run by a guy who kept upping the price. So we left. We drove around forever. There were no rooms anywhere. And the guidebook we had was no help. They knew nothing of Yamoussoukro because it was written when the area was still inaccessible. Right as it got dark, our taxi driver helped us get the last room at a hotel. After enjoying a delicious meal, some beers, and the Daily Show on TV, we went to bed.

In the morning we went to the bus station at 630 am thinking the bus left at 7 am. It left at 930 am. We hung out for a while, took a few walks, wrote in our journals. We found this amazing outdoor stand that served egg sandwiches on baguettes. We grabbed a few and went back to the station. Realizing we had more time, Shauna and I went back. There were benches around the stand to sit and drink coffee. It was the best cup of coffee I've ever had. I ordered coffee and a piece of baguette. I did as the locals did and dipped the bread in the coffee. They used some sort of gooey cream in the coffee that made it heaven. Everyone there was incredibly friendly and respected that we were trying French as much as we could. And they didn't make us feel weird for being foreign. We felt incredibly welcome. The random acts of absolute kindness from complete strangers in Africa is one of the many things that makes it so great.

The bus ride back was smooth. We saw a guy holding up a 6-7 foot long snake on the edge of a village, and saw a woman selling shrimp the size of rats. During that bus ride I was in one of my moods--that feeling of nirvana from realizing how much I love being in Africa. I just listened to Amadou and Mariam on my iPod and stared out the window at all the shades of green, gray and blue seen from the road. The colors are so much more vivid here.

Once back in Abidjan we went straight to the other bus station that has buses back to Accra. We got a room at the station's lodge--the bus to Accra left the next morning at 7 am. Andy, Shauna and I decided to go get drinks and food to bring back. This is when we run into trouble. Andy gave his passport to Mary before we left--both the security guard and our taxi driver saw that. The guard told our driver where to take us for stuff. Our taxi driver took us way out of the way. None of us wear seatbelts in Ghana. No one does. In Cote d'Ivoire it's law that those in front have to wear seatbelts. I completely forgot to put mine on--and I was in the passenger seat. Conveniently, the cabbie drove us right to two cops standing in the road pulling over whomever they please. We're pulled over, of course. The cop starts yelling at me in French. I keep saying "Je ne comprands pas" ("I don't understand") and I start to get angry because he won't stop. So I yell "Anglais!" a few times. I turn to Andy and ask, "What the hell is going on?!" And he tells me it was the seatbelt. I try putting it on, and all the cop does is hit my hand, knocking the belt out of my hand. He keeps yelling, knowing quite well I don't know what he's saying. I try again and he slaps my hand again and Andy tells me he saying it's finished, it's too late. They don't ever fully realize that Andy understands them. In French, the cabbie tells the cop to check us (remember that he knows Andy doesn't have his passport). Andy and the cop exchange words. The cop is just plain and simple an asshole. Andy looked somewhere between infuriated and scared. Then I hear the cop say "dix mille." We ended up having to pay him 10,000 CFA--otherwise he could have hauled Andy off to jail. The cabbie had completely set us up.

So we went and got food and drinks and when we get back to the station the cabbie tries charging us another 10,000 CFA (25 USD) for fare. We yell at him and only pay 5,000 and then get out. In the lodge we made friends with a Ghanaian guy, Niki. He works for the bus company and speaks fluent French and English. Hours later we are hungry again and thirsty. But it's dark outside. And everyone has told us not to go out after dark. So Andy, Mary and I decide to have Niki take us for stuff. We walk several blocks and find a bar and a bakery. The atmosphere felt so different and strange. The sky was red and everyone seemed to either be on a mission or looking over their shoulder. Right after we pass an alley, three taxis pull out of it, each with about 10 men in them, shouting and hollering. Who knows what that was about. No one hassled us, but they looked at us as though to say, "You have no idea." We got back safely, thanks to Niki. When we walk in, we see two guys sitting in the lobby counting stacks of cash. Of course we assume he's a drug dealer through the bus company, but we talked to him later and he was very nice. Apparently he brings shipments (different cargo each time) with the bus between Abidjan and Lagos, back and forth. This time it was about 300,000 Ghana Cedis worth of French cognac. That's about a third of a million USD. He then gave us a bottle to be friendly. He was really interesting. He can speak 10 languages and has houses in Nigeria, Togo and Ghana. You never know who you'll meet here.

Coming back to Ghana was problem-free. There was a crazy guy on the bus sitting behind us, but after ignoring him for a while, he stopped bugging us.

Even though it sounds like a lot of things went wrong in Cote d'Ivoire, I loved it. Some of the people I was with have no interest in ever going back, but it really captivated me. The whole time I kept wondering what this or that person lived through in the last few years. It's amazing how life always continues. Horrific things happen... and life still goes on. I could imagine how amazing Abidjan must have been back in its day. But now it's crumbling and the people are weathered from war. My friend Shauna was so angry at those men who clung onto our taxi and then acted gang-like to get just 100 Francs. I can't blame them for what the world has done to the them. They have to chase cars for miles and beg for up to a half an hour to get 25 cents split between 3 of them. It makes me sick that people are forced to resort to that. I cannot blame them for their disparity. Here I've found myself being much more able to see through other's eyes. If I grew up without any education, no one taught me any skills, no jobs were available, and there were no other sources of help, I would be begging for money. If I always only found myself in the worst of neighborhoods, grew up seeing friends getting shot and killed over money, drugs, and one or both of my parents didn't care if I succeeded or failed in life, I wouldn't trust anyone, ever, and I would be stubbornly guarded. We're all direct products of our past experiences. We just have to try to understand each other. And try to allow others to understand us.

Cote d'Ivoire, to me, was beautiful. The people were usually guarded and tougher than Ghanaians, but we encountered countless random acts of kindness. The landscape was the most beautiful I've ever seen. One the bus I saw a river with a single palm tree in the middle of it. The water just seemed to dance over the rocks. I've never seen water move like that. The food was phenomenal. The French influence was quite apparent in the food. Baguettes, croissants and coffee were abundant. I definitely plan on returning.