Cote d'Ivoire Part 1

We sat in our tro tro on the way to the capital of Abidjan, waiting for what seemed like forever for the soldiers who had our passports in hand to decide whether or not it was worth it to try and extort any money out of us. Our new friend Mustafa sat behind us, and told us to just sit back and not say anything. He had been to Ivory Coast many times and was returning with a woman and child for business. The officer gave one last glance at our passports, decided against it and let us continue on our journey.

The ride to the capital was lush and green with something I hadn't seen in a while: large scale agriculture. The Ivorians definitely seemed to have tamed the land with endless rows of pineapple bushes and major deforestation visible every so often but often hidden by trees close to the road. I fell asleep for a while but was awakened suddenly as we sped around a corner and just in time to see the passenger side mirror explode into thousands of pieces, some grazing Alex's face through the open window. We pulled over and Alex began his first hand recount of how the driver, using the hand break, sped around the corner and hit a woman with the side mirror. We all got out of the car and Mustafa began yelling in French at the punk kid driver, his earbuds still plugged into the side of his head. We quickly decided that this driver was pretty illegit so we thanked the fired up Mustafa and flagged down a cab for Abidjan.

As we approached the city, I realized that I hadn't seen a skyscraper in a very long time and that I was about to be in a proper city. We had the taxi drop us off at a hotel and after failing to persuade the hotel manager to let Alex, Joe, Stirling and I share one room, we reluctantly accepted two.

I hailed a taxi and made use of my petit francais to negotiate a price to "le plateau", the center of the city where the skyscrapers originated. On the way we stopped at an awesome market inside of what seemed like a kind or parking structure but made for individual shops to be stationed. Giant snails as big as my hand were being sold at one end, and various meats were being butchered on wooden blocks and displayed for sale. If we wanted, we could have bought anything from cow's kidney to a whole dog, but we weren't too hungry and decided to continue to le plateau.

After a satisfying cheeseburger and a few beers in the city center we decided to go back to the room and get some rest. We chilled in Joe and Stirling's room and watched the Bourne Supremacy in French while lethargically playing psoi until we could barely move. The day had wiped us out and it was time to rest for the next day's adventure.

We woke early and hoped into a taxi. Our first stop was for some French Pastries. I told the driver to take us to a patisserie and soon enough we were at a bustling little Lebanese-owned pastry and sweet shop. We all grabbed at least three pastries that brought me back to France with their chocolaty, buttery and cheesy centers and warm flakey outer covering. We finished our breakfast with a small pot of coffee and 4 small espresso cups. I was impressed with the presentation and the black coffee, with the addition of a sugar cube was surprisingly delicious.

We walked into a small market across the street that seemed to be owned by another Lebanese family. I liked the addition of another race thrown into the mix. I liked the French influence and culture that they brought in with the pastries and the market had a lot of middle eastern goodies like hummus that I hadn't seen in a while. They seemed to be living pretty comfortable lives and ran business quite well. After picking up some freshly baked pita bread, we got into a taxi and went to the bus station and quickly hopped on a bus to the capital of Yamassukro.

Night Run Adventure

As most of my friends will tell you, I like to climb things. I’m always on the lookout for sweet buildings that look challenging or interesting to climb. So tonight when I began my run out of Legon Hall Annex A and saw a small bus with a ladder down the back slowing down at a speed bump, I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
I ran up to the back of the bus as it sped up over the “rubble strip” and jumped onto the bumper as I got a hold of the middle rung of the ladder. I hung out for a while on the ladder and then made my way up to the roof. I had to lie down fairly regularly, both to dodge low hanging branches and avoid the guard with a flashlight as we exited campus and swung onto the main road. We were picking up speed now and headlights from behind me were quickly making my position aware to everyone around.
When I realized that the bus was not going anywhere but further away from campus, I proceeded to climb back down the ladder and into the back left window, which was conveniently open. I went down the aisle of the empty bus and asked the guy, sitting shotgun where he was going and he said something that did not sound familiar. The driver then looked at me and yelled something about coming on the back of the bus so as he slowed down the bus I hopped out the window I had come and into the bustling city streets of Accra.
With headlights approaching rapidly, I quickly hopped the tall fenced median and jogged back in the direction of campus until I got to a stoplight that had just turned green. I hopped the median and then quickly into the back of a green pickup as it sped up from the traffic light. A woman in the car next to the truck tried to signal the driver, but I slunk down and got close to the cab so he couldn’t easily see me. Once the driver missed my turn off I hopped out at the next speed bump and began running in the direction I knew campus was.
Eventually the streets darkened and I reached a creek bed. Normally I wouldn’t be as cautious, but the distinct smell of feces wafting up from the darkness beneath me in Ghana meant that this was probably the local public shitting grounds. After carefully stepping across stones in the water and scaling a small cliff, I reached a nicer residential area and resumed running. I passed the “Hotel Obama” and I knew that I was close. The run back through campus felt triumphant though long and for good measure when I got back to the dorms I had to climb up the back railings to my fifth floor room. The cold bucket shower was so satisfying after a long adventure and I couldn’t help but think how sometimes getting a little lost is half the journey.