Politics complicates everything, rainbows of taxis, and Ivoirian social life

Here I must take a moment and admit my naiveté. It’s been two years since I have been studying the conflict in Cote d’Ivoire, and yet, talking to people about it, especially about the 2010 elections, I have begun to realize that we can’t really know anything unless we’re on the ground. For example, media reports of the time period leading up to the 2010 elections (which were postponed repeatedly since 2003) paint a picture of Gbagbo as a villain, greedy to hold onto power at any cost. But if you talk to people here (and one must take into account that there very well could be bias), Gbagbo was “too nice” agreeing to a power-sharing government with his rivals, and postponed the elections because the country was divided, thus not prepared to elect a president. Gbagbo supporters assert that he won the 2010 elections, otherwise why would he have called for a re-count, especially since he won the most votes in the first round of the elections? Someone asked me if I had been here, who would I have voted for? My instinct, based on my research and everything I have learned, was to say Ouattara, but after hearing how much people feel that Gbagbo had done for the country (decreased debt, protected the country from rebels, putting his country first) versus what Ouattara has done since last year (high unemployment, discrimination against certain populations, closure of universities, centralization of the government), I am not so sure. I did talk to an Ouattara voter, who asserted that he wasn’t an “Alassaniste” (Alassan Ouattara), but that he agreed with Ouattara’s platform and was expecting to see change. Now, however, he feels that he hasn’t seen what he was expecting.

My general conclusion is that this country is not “post-conflict” or even a “democracy.” How can it be when an entire political entity, Gbagbo’s party FPI, isn’t involved in the political process at all (in the legislature, local governance), and feel discriminated against, while asserting that supporters in exile are preparing for a rebellion? And can I blame them? If they think their president is wrongfully accused of crimes against humanity and the current president isn’t even Ivoirian (a long standing debate as to where he was born and whether one or both of his parents are from Burkina Faso), how can they believe in a democratic process? When the president’s prime minister, who ironically enough just stepped down in order to become president of the National Assembly (the sole candidate for this position, with 84% of the legislative vote), led the rebellion in 2002 that divided the country in half, who can be surprised that parts of the Ivoirian population is calling that he, too, be taken to the Hague for crimes against humanity, just like Gbagbo? When discussing all this with members of Jocelyne’s church, a woman asked me what I was going to do with the information, with what they were telling me; she said normally I would have a team that would back up any facts that I had compiled from interviews. I told her, and I hope it wasn’t a lie, that I would try to convey the complexities of this conflict to people in the West. But with my thesis a bit off track (completely, more precisely), I am not sure how well I can do that…

Enough with politics! Since I last wrote, I kept myself busy with interviews, typing up notes, and following the news. I usually only have enough time to do one interview a day; why, you ask? Well remember I mentioned the different color taxis for different neighborhoods earlier? Well, here’s how I have been getting around:

Hail a green taxi, usually shared (which means the taxi driver is constantly looking for other clients, honking at people, pulling over and asking them where they are going, etc) because we are in Koumassi neighborhood.

Take this taxi to a station, where there are other green taxis. Walk through a maze/market, pushing past people selling shoes, t-shirts, water in plastic baggies, carts, sometimes live animals, to get to the other station, where we can take an orange taxi, direction St. Jean station.

The orange taxi takes us to yet another station, where we can get a yellow taxi to go around Cocody, the neighborhood where almost all of my interviews have taken place. Then I usually call the organization who gives the taxi driver directions to their office, because there are rarely street addresses.

It normally takes more than an hour, including the walking time and the time spent in 90+ degree weather with no air conditioning, stuck in traffic, with overturned trucks and broken down taxis blocking the way. There are also blue taxis (Youpougon) and red ones (idk, maybe Plateau or II Plateau?). This is the cheapest way to get around, but certainly not the most convenient. Yet another adventure in Africa.

And don’t worry, I keep myself busy during my free time as well. Thursday night, we walked to Marcory, a neighborhood adjacent to Koumassi, to check out a Maquis. This is essentially an outdoor bar blaring extremely loud, and slightly repetitive Ivoirian music (friends in France may be familiar with Magic System; this kind of music is very popular). You can order a drink or eat some food or dance or chat with your friends; apparently, Marcory has the most hoppin’ Maquis, and there were whole streets lined with them and their neon lighting.

Saturday we went to Jocelyne’s uncle’s wedding in Youpougon. We went to the Mairie (city hall) in Plateau and then to a place on the lagoon to take pictures. Then we went to the church, which was a cement block building which was extremely warm inside (I was wondering why so many hawkers are selling tissues; now I know it’s to wipe the sweat off your body). The preacher was funny, telling the groom that he had to do the first kiss “right” and made him do it over and over again. Afterwards, we went to the reception, which was in the back yard of a school for blind children. There were two MCs for the wedding that played off each other with jokes, but the speakers were right behind the table of honor (which was where we were sitting) and their overly loud voices popped my ear drums. They served drinks and dinner first, then the couple accepted gifts, and there was a little comedy sketch with a comedian that mocked the two ethnic groups from which the couple come from (the uncle is Yacouba and the new wife is Baoulé).

Here I will take a minute to describe the ethnic make-up of the country; with over 60 ethnic groups, it’s hard to say that one particularly dominates (which was the case in Ghana (Ashanti) and Senegal (Wolof)). Instead they are grouped regionally, and unfortunately, have also been grouped based on political affiliation. For example, the Yacouba and Bété (Gbagbo’s ethnic group) from the West tend to be Gbagbo supporters, the Baoulé (first president, Houphouet-Boigny’s ethnic group) from the center tend to support PDCI (now aligned with the current president, but also the party of President Bédié, mentioned in last post), and those from the north (Senoufo and Dioula) tend to be for the current president, who hails from this region. Of course, everyone claims that everyone got along just fine before the war broke out and politicians manipulated ethnicity, thus many organizations working towards reconciliation are capitalizing on what they call “alliances interethniques” which existed before; each ethnic group is connected to another, and thus cannot fight each other, instead they can quash conflict by making fun of each other in such a way that fortifies the alliance between them.

Enough of the complicated explanations; back to the wedding. Just as in western weddings the cake was cut, champagne was drunk, the bouquet was thrown. Then traditional music from both ethnic groups was played, followed by contemporary Ivoirian dance numbers. Each song apparently has a dance that goes with it, and I made some very funny videos of the little kids breaking it down on the dance floor. Apparently, though, before this western-esque wedding, the traditional one took place in the bride’s home village. Negotiations went down where the groom brought a large sum of money, the dowry, but had to have the acceptance of the whole family. Sometimes an aunt would appear that said, you can’t marry my niece unless you give me this amount of money, and then she was followed by another and then another. I wasn’t there, but Jocelyne was in attendance, and I am sure it was an interesting sight to see.

Sunday I went to church with Jocelyne, an evangelical group that meets in the classroom of a school building. The preacher even referenced Billy Graham several times. Afterwards, some of the members offered me their insight into the reconciliation process and their take on current political affairs. We then went home, changed, and met up with some of Jocelyne’s friends to go “karting.” Jocelyne and I hit the racetrack with the little kids that were already there, and I must say I whipped some tail! We then grabbed sandwiches, and went to a shopping center (there are several shopping centers in Abidjan, which is very different from Senegal and Ghana, though I am told Ghana just built one recently), for ice cream. Here I ran into a group of very loud, though good intentioned Georgia dwellers who were on mission to build an orphanage (I couldn’t help but remark their accent, so I went up to them to find out what they were doing… they were eating hamburgers).

And Monday, the rat race has started off with meetings and more meetings, because two weeks is not enough time to compile all the information that I need to write my thesis! But ca va aller, as they say.

It doesn’t seem like war…

I arrived in Abidjan Sunday night, the 4th of March. It was dark, but I realized immediately that this city was unlike any other city I had already visited in Africa. First, the airport was new and very nice, the streets were all paved with lots of lighting and there was a lot of open space. Jocelyne, my host for this sejour, studied at the University of Ghana at the same time as me, and now works as an accounting assistant for a company here in Abidjan, picked me up at the airport.

As many of you know, Cote d’Ivoire was in a civil war from 2002 until … well I guess until April 2011, when the former president was deposed by the current president after denying he lost the elections in December 2010 and refusing to step down. But for the Ivoirians, there were 2 wars, the one that split the country in two in 2002, and the violence that erupted around the elections. Jocelyne was in Abidjan when the second set of violent struggles started, and locked herself away in her apartment. As we drove to the apartment from the airport, she pointed out where people had told her there were bodies strewn about on the road.

My first full day in Abidjan, it poured down rain in the morning and it was even “cool.” I went to work with Jocelyne, where a colleague of hers drove me to my appointment with the NGO, Convention for Ivoirian Civil Society. En route, he showed me around the city, which is truly enormous. There are several different neighborhoods, each with their own colored taxi to take you around. Buildings, which to me seem like skyscrapers, dot the skyline, the roads are well developed; there are a lot of factories, industries and businesses all around. It is very different from Accra and Dakar, both in size and feel of the level of development. Abidjan is known for its lagoons, and to arrive in the center of town, you have to cross a bridge. I will post pictures soon.

There are, of course, reminders that this country just recently got out of a conflict. The most notable one is the UN trucks that are driving around full of blue helmets and guns. The UN has maintained a military presence here since the early 2000s. Bernard, the colleague mentioned above, pointed out a building where the windows had been shot out by rebels. Shanty towns abound besides parks and industrial buildings. But I was surprised by the lack of military patrolling the street. A US Embassy official told me that Ouattara, the current president, has “cleaned up the city” making sure that this would not be the case. One wouldn’t know, in other words, that the country just recently emerged from a violent political struggle, unless you talk to the population.

Cote d’Ivoire is a former French colony, so people here speak French. However, when they are speaking amongst themselves, I don’t understand ANYTHING. It all becomes mumbles, onomatopoeia, and hand gestures and I catch probably less than 10%. It is frustrating. What I do catch, though, tends to revolve around politics. On the way to work with Jocelyne, her colleague ranted about the country still having a “rebellion” mentality, including the current president. He said it’s not a republic because the president makes all his decisions alone, not consulting the legislative branch. He was for the president who was ousted in 1999, Bédié, saying that he had done a lot for the country. Jocelyne’s other colleague, Bernard, showed me his phone background; there was a picture of Gbagbo, the former president mentioned above who chose to be ousted militarily than step down after losing the elections and who is currently serving time in the Hague with allegations of crimes against humanities in the International Criminal Court. He said that Gbagbo was the “real” president, though he did concede that Ouattara was a nice guy with business experience. He said that Ouattara needs to show the population that he has their interests, not his foreign friends’, in mind when he is developing the country. Foreign interests are another interesting topic here. People are very opinionated about the involved of the French military in the ousting of Gbagbo, and doubt whether the country is truly independent. When I say I am American, people are ok with that. But when I say I live in Paris, I often get a “we don’t like France” attitude or an “I prefer to hear more about America, the French are horrible/racist/etc.”

Everyone I have met, though, is very keen on making sure I am safe and secure. I have not traveled anywhere alone in the city; there is always someone, Jocelyne’s colleagues or her family members, which are around to make sure I get where I need to go. I feel very baby-sat, but I realize that a)I wouldn’t know how to get anywhere anyway (i.e. this whole different taxis for different neighborhoods thing, you want to go to a different neighborhood, you have to take one taxi to a taxi depot, then switch taxis; very confusing) b)better safe than sorry, as they say.

Food and Culture: the food, so far, is quite delicious. Most meals are served with attieke, which is ground manioc that looks a little like couscous. We’ve eaten fish twice, and it was phenomenal. They eat spicy here, but you are not obligated to do so (though when we went to dinner with Jocelyne’s uncles, they encouraged me to eat lots of peppers!). Fried plantains are also part of the repertoire. People, as I may have mentioned, are extremely friendly. They say “Ca va?” and “on dit quoi?” a lot, and say “bonne soir” after midday, which is odd. Otherwise, there is a lot of laughing and gestures. I went to the market yesterday to get some fabric to make clothes, and it was quite an experience; lots of haggling, as always, and very crowded. There were guys selling pictures of outfits, so that you knew what you could make with your fabric; this was not the case in Senegal or Ghana.

For my thesis, things are moving slowly. I have set up various meetings, but I am not exactly sure what it is I am looking for or how to do it. But, it will be fine. :)

So that’s all. I have only been here for three days, but it feels like a lot longer. I am enjoying my time and am kept quite busy.