"Because of the war"

We arrived in Côte d'Ivoire expecting the country to be in a total shambles because of the civil war that has wrecked and now split the country in two. On one hand, we were right - the country really has been split in two, and the destruction is still pretty evident even though both sides have long grown bored with actually fighting. On the other, Côte d'Ivoire is in far better shape than several of the places that we've visited.. it has excellent roads between major cities, a bustling international center of commerce, pretty reliable power and water infrastructure, a world-famous musical tradition, good facilities, and between the Basilica and national parks, excellent tourism prospects. Heck, it even has international recognition as actually existing, and that's more than some places can claim.

But none of the locals are aware of any of that. No, as every Ivoirian will tell you, there's nothing left anywhere at all ever now, and all a cause de la guerre. Never mind that Yamassoukro has electric lighting along every major street - functional, too, mind you - and Christendom's most lavish basilica, or that Abidjan has West Africa's most thriving downtown, or that the country is lined with excellent beaches in the south, rainforest reserves to the west, and legendary mosques to the north - none of that is worth anything, because of the war. The fact that unions have a stranglehold on travel - because of the war. An illiteracy rate among adults worse than the average kindergarten - because of the war. That unpaved road heading down to Tai - because of the war. The fly I found in my otherwise delicious lasagna - because of the war!

Now I'm only a tourist an' all, but I get the feeling that some of these problems might be unrelated to - or go deeper than - a war that is still a recent phenomenon.

Eh, what do I know. The Ivoirians are probably right - every thing that isn't perfect in the country, it's all the war's fault.


Food: The food in CI was pretty good, and pretty varied. We were almost always able to find schwarma and continental staples alongside local favorites. I tried a plantain mash with arachid sauce that was unexpectedly delicious, and very filling.

Best Eaten: Sold along the road to Yamassoukro and inside the capital, but nowhere else in the country or even in this entire section of the continent, near as I can tell: PASSIONFRUIT. I never had one of these in Africa until the Congo train ride, when the friendly Arbiter woman in front of me bought some of these round fist-sized yellow fruits off the window market. Seeing my confusion, she split open the top to reveal a delicate white skin bursting with vivid yellow seeds, falling off the weirdly-fingered white walls of the fruit in clumps that you could lick up with your tongue. Marvelous!! Tangy and sweet and sour, all at the same time... but despite looking hard, I would not taste another of these fruits until Yamassoukro. I must have eaten two or three every day the entire time we were there.

Plus, it's delightful fun to go and tell people to hold on, you're goin' to go get some passion.

Worst Eaten: The food was pretty good here, and when we didn't eat well, it was because we didn't eat at all - i.e., our few-hour journey of the morning became an all-day adventure, and we got in well past dark and too late to go find food. In our last week of CI, this happened more often than it didn't. Thank goodness for granola bars.

Citiest City Seen Yet: While Nairobi puts up some decent competition, for urban personality I would still pick Abidjan. A dense downtown cluttered with cafes, clothing stores, banks, business centers, and offices; a magnificent ship-shaped cathedral and delightfully creative architecture scattered around the city; skyscrapers whose nighttime lights reflect off a river criss-crossed by bridges humming with traffic. One of the most incredible cities in West Africa... and it's not even the capital.

Music: While I did miss hip-hop here, CI makes up for it with a few genres of its own. Coupe decalle has made CI famous all over West Africa for its frenetic beat, wild singing and melodic accompaniment, but I think my favorite is zouglou, with a beat reminiscent of coupe but more of a rap feel.

The general paradigm typing a country's international language to its musical expression seems to hold true - franco countries blast zouk/soukouss, and the anglos boom back hip-hop.

Worst Song Ever: I was raised on reggae the way some kids are raised on Barney, and I never could have thought you could get sick of it. Like my sisters, I know most Marley and Jimmy Cliff songs by heart, and could probably write out the entire Legend album given enough time and paper.

The same Alpha Blondy cassette, however, played on loop for six slow hours, might be just cause for outlawing the album and disbanding the group. Exhibit A in my case against them? A bouncy, clipped re-make of one of classic rock's most powerful ballads, Wish you were here. That song can make you cry. But apparently it wasn't perfect in its rock form, for Alpha Blondy saw fit to replace the riffs and soulful singing with knee-jerk dinky beats to accompany a clipped, impertinent voice chanting, "We just-! two lost souls! singin' in de fish-bowl!!" Gah! It is my personal conviction that every artist responsible for that abomination should be taken outside and publicly slapped, along with whatever agent got them off composing cat litter jingles and into massacring international music legends.

New (?) Hygienic Lows: Let's be honest, I can hardly call this "new" anymore. But in the competition of Stinkiest between David and I, I decidedly gained an advantage the day I convinced him to discard his old backpack, which had come to have the perpetually moist feeling of Eastern European money under Soviet rule, in favor of a new clean one. I didn't even have a chance while he was cartin' that thing around, but now...

Quote: It's no accident that the classic lines of CI come from transit. Among the most delightful things I overheard was the indignant line of a man behind me in a passenger van, stopped to play Musical Vans by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. We were going on three or four passengers for every two legal seats, and it already cramped enough that I actually couldn't see the herder stuffing more people in, or hear anything other than the herder directing people where to sit - until one line broke through loud and clear, a quite indignant male voice declaring in response, "OH NO HE CAN NOT SIT ON ME! It is WAY too far."

(Snicker snicker.)

At another game of Musical Vans a few days later, I was trying to divine the causes behind the game from one of the herders. "Why doesn't each van just go its own way? Carrying its own passengers to the destination it's already headed towards?" ...Kind of like how every other African country, no, scratch that, every other COUNTRY does. He explained something vague about the Point-A van belonging to Point A, and the Point-B van belonging to Point B, and they each 'needed' to end up in the right place, etc. The whole thing smacked of red tape, and I was giving him a pretty skeptical look when, fumbling for a good explanation, he blurted, "It's all because of the war, you know."
I shot him a dirty look. "War nothing.. it's because of the syndicate."
He broke out in shocked laughter - and then shared in a conspiratorial whisper his agreement about the real source of CI's travel frustration.

Worst Experience: Collectively, fighting to get away from the unions/ dodge armed thuggery/actually arrive at our destination made most travel in CI a somewhat unpleasant and highly fatiguing experience. If you're not trying to actually go anywhere, though, the country is great, people are happy to see you and ready to chat, the food is excellent, the infrastructure is pretty reliable, there are lots of interesting buildings, and the music's got a delightfully lively spirit that I just wish was shared by most of the drivers.

Best Experience: For David, this remains our interview with the rebel organization Les Forces Nouvelles at their headquarters in Bouake, whose commanders welcomed us off the street and answered all our questions with an endearly stiff military professionalism unshared by any of the bottom feeders of their organization. This is a high point for me too - and rivals another top memory, that of visiting the incredible Basilique de la Paix at Yamassoukro. This jaw-dropping basilica, visible for miles away from the city, is (despite the pope's request) just a teensy bit taller than his own Saint Paul's (thanks to a cross of solid gold), and could fit four or five Notre-Dame's inside its pearly dome. It's incredible what dictators can do when they put their forced labor to it. My very favorite moments of CI, though, were those spent wandering around the bustling Deux-Plateaux neighborhood that comprises the official heart of Abidjan.

Could I live Here: I would happily live in Abidjan, a city cosmopolitan enough to give you variety, big enough to keep you busy, and with a touch of crazy to keep it interesting. Sooner or later, though, you'd want to get out beyond the well-connected coast, which would require selling your soul and most of your time to the unions. Unfortunately, Côte d'Ivoire is gonna be a no.

And not because of the war.