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.