As I write I find myself back in good old Abidjan, hanging out in B's room in front of the fan. I guess the heat is just something one never gets used to. But other than that, it's very much a case of Hooray! I'm back!
Touch down in Afrique was a real mercy. I was once cool with aeroplane food... no more. And the second leg felt several million years longer than the first, though apparently it was shorter. First flight did have movies on demand though. On that note, watch Green Zone with Matt Damon (Maaaatt Daaamon) :) Worth it.
It was amazing to see B again. There would have been a slow motion running-towards-each-other-like-in-the-movies moment but for my trolly of many heavy baggages and the aforementioned heat. I was able to talk the airline into giving me an extra 10 kilos so I could take some toys and things back to Amepouh, which had been great in theory when I was at home in the cool and surrounded by helping hands, but felt less brilliant when faced with it as well as my 40-ish other kilos of luggage, and nary a helper-man to be found. (Last time I arrived in Abidjan I must have looked rather more pathetic, as considerably more menfolk were asking if I needed help back then, when I had a good deal less to carry).
We jumped on into a taxi and took off to Grand Bassam for a couple of days.
It was great to reconnect, but of course we were five minutes into sitting, eating Aloco (yay!) when my beacon-like skin started to attract various rather insistent vendors from the beach. One guy stayed for half an hour trying to sell us a beautiful carved wooden box. Eventually he succeeded, and was followed by an even more persistent purveyor of pretty much the same gear. He wasn't getting anywhere until he showed us a gorgeous checkers board, which really got B's attention (he's a super talented checkers player) and we had to have one of those too. We decided it was probably best to retreat inside before the hoards descended upon us completely.
Dinner was at a nearby restaurant which was, unfortunately, the open air kind. A stark reminder of the importance of aeroguard and malaria tablets. The mosquitos actually managed to bite through my clothes. Not impressed. The world cup final was on in the background but the jetlag had begun to hit me so it wasn't long before we quit mozzieland and headed back to the motel, whereupon we discovered, joy of joys, that the toilet was leaking like crazy. Ah Africa, I've missed you!
Next day we wandered into town for lunch, and came across a cute little hut with a good crossbreeze. We ordered chicken and rice and sat, chatting away. At least an hour went by and no food. I was beginning to think they must have had to slaughter the chicken when the guy came in and apologised for it taking so long, because... he'd had to slaughter the chicken. I couldn't help but notice that the chicken tasted a bit stressed. B ate the 'fois' (guts!) with a grin at how disgusted I clearly was. Good times.
We had dinner with an old friend of B's from back when he was living in a little town between Yamoussoukro and Abidjan. The guy studied criminology but hasn't been able to find a job, he worked for a while in a bar but was let go from that, now he's forced to beg. He's reed thin. The look on his face, of total desperation and a sense that he has no idea what he will do now actually made me cry. He's intelligent, educated - he even speaks English. And he has nothing. It was heartbreaking.
It's funny, the first time I was here I was in awe of everything. I was excited with a healthy level of nervous. This time I'm coming to grips more with the difficulties people face. We complain in Australia about our lot, and then refuse refuge to those who would willingly work, those who have suffered so much more than we could ever imagine. I promise I'll jump off my soapbox now, and indeed those who know me will know my stance on the subject, but this has just reinforced to me the need to seriously rethink our position on refugees, asylum seekers and immigration in general. It's not right that we who have so much should be allowed to deny those who have so little.
Ok, enough politicking... back to me :) Today we hit Adjame for some long overdue sheets, towels and pillows for B. It's so much fun to watch Ivoirians bargain with each other. Very dramatic, there's a kind of dance to it.
"No, this is ABSOLUTELY my final price, finished, no more."
"Eyyyyyyy" (disgruntled but simultaneously hilarious sound) "I could go up the road and get it for half that price!"
"But this is QUALITY, you're paying for the quality!" (I stifle a giggle as a thread on one of the towels unravels.)
"12,000 CFA"
"Come on, this is my job, I have to eat! 14,000 CFA, take it or leave it"
"Eyyyyyyyyyy - no, no, no. There's no way."
"13,000."
"Done."
Excellent entertainment. We went to a "charwarmwa" after that, where I had my first glimpse of the truly disturbing ivoirian version of a kebab. Charwarmwa is apparently the word for kebab, but instead of filling the pita with lettuce, tomato and other respectable items that accompany ye olde artery-solidifying kebab meat, you have a delicious choice of everything from mince meat to sheep's brains. I'm actually not kidding. And of course, B chose the brains specifically to freak me out. And apparently because they're delicious. You can also have chips on your kebab. And kidneys. I chose mince and chicken and chips. I think. Indeed, I hope. Needless to say, I'm not so sure I'll be repeating that experience (it's just as likely to repeat on me...) I'd rather have diarrhoea inducing Alloco any day...
In spite of all this, it's great to be back. I realise I'm going to be up against it finding work here when the locals are struggling as much as they are, but I guess it's a case of nothing ventured, nothing gained. And other such pearls of wisdom.
Signing off for now, still happily ensconced in fan heaven. Miss you all, and believe it or not, the cold weather too! Love love! x
