Which is why I've been a little stunned to see her image painted everywhere. In Kinshasa, she is on the side of school buildings, lining the walls above kiddie cubbies and adorning backpacks and water bottles in market stalls. Here in Abidjan, she is painted on headboards and dressers of kids' furniture that lines the roadways. Even more Florida-esque, she can be found, along with what seem to be her antithesis- the Disney princesses- painted on wooden cut-out shapes and hanging for sale from here to the beach. Just plain weird.
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| Just one of many opportunities to buy a Dora...or a snowman |
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| A billion Dora.....and some Smurf |
Otherwise, it's been a pretty pleasant first week in Abidjan. The boys, of course, are busy comparing everything to Kinshasa and I am recovering from the lack of traffic stories and doctor tales- the traffic is orderly, everyone stays on their own side of the road and it's depressingly quiet. The doctor's office we visited- same. Orderly, not too much of a wait, clean and efficient. Pay first, of course.
We've all been remarking on the tranquility and quiet. There isn't a lot of "music in the air" and I realize now that Kinshasa is virtually bursting with rhythm. I guess I thought all African countries were. It's a bit different this trip, because most of my visits to African countries usually involve staying with musicians- dancers, drummers, artists- and so then, of course, we are surrounded by music. In Kinshasa, the streets themselves seem to sing and we are missing that quality a bit here. Well, at least I am. The boys seem to revel in the anonymity. Aside from being mistaken for twins, no one seems to notice them at all. Just two regular guys.
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| Sometimes even I have trouble telling them apart... Which one are you? I have to ask as I peer closely. |
I spent the first few days trying to figure out where "the people" live. Everything seemed so quiet and tidy. Where were all the people? We visited the downtown financial section (home of a super Senegalese cafe offering superb tchep) and walked among the shady, tree lined streets reminiscent of Conakry's business district. Getting from one section to another requires a looping drive around a swampy middle (I guess they are working on a bridge here) and this watery scenery sends me back to Harlem River Drive making me feel like home. But traveling across the vast city means spending a lot of time in the car. The roadsides are soul-filling green hills and trees.
We're staying in the Riviera III section, not far from the infamous Golf Hotel and the president's new quarters. Mohamed feels so comfortable he's already decided if we get to settle down here he'll soon be ready to go out on his own. He's noticed the "quality" of the university we drive by often with its rolling hills, landscaped lawns and well kept buildings. It's hard to imagine just a few short months ago the area was bustling with gun-fire and grenades.
On the way to one of the beaches just outside the main city center, we passed through Port Bouet. Finally a bit of market life resembling Kinshasa. Stalls lined the streets, people were everywhere and a small street hum filled the air. Happily, even here, no one cold be seen dashing across the road for their life. Respect for the traffic laws abounds. "We fought for that," Mohamed, one of our 'regular' taxi drivers told us. No random stops by the police here, no collecting of 'taxes' or small cash for a 'coca.' He sounds fierce and proud as he repeats how hard they fought for order.
We've yet to get to Adjame, where I think the largest markets are. I'm still trying to figure out if water and electricity problems persist here....someone told me they didn't really think it was like Kin, but I find it hard to imagine. I still have it in my mind that all of Africa is struggling with these problems and I'm still wondering why.
Here on Christmas Eve I have an interview at the school. Seems like a good omen. Christmas is times ten here in Abidjan. Gift wrappers sit outside every store ready to wrap and bow whatever you've bought. Colorful, festive paper is peeking out of buckets sitting on wooden tables everywhere you turn. Even the grocery stores have cleaned out aisle upon aisle to stock up with toys and other unneeded, overly expensive items. While Christmas comes silently to Kin, maybe a bit more traffic, some fancy decorations here and there, occasionally a Christmas tune playing in a random store, it is the one piece of Abidjan that so far seems more showy and loud.
I'm trying to take more pictures....missed the men selling wares on the beach wrapped in their miles of blue cloth and turbans. What a beautiful painting it would make. It's a nice mix of people here. Christians and Muslims, Africans from all over, Europeans and Lebanese (not exactly sure if there's a word for people from the Middle East....Middle Easterners perhaps.) Sometimes when I am noticing the mix- mostly in the case of religion- just as I remark on the beauty of Christians and Muslims so intermingled and all mixed up, churches sitting next door to mosques- I remember it is just as often the cause of wars. When everything is so quiet and peaceful like this....it just doesn't seem possible. The mosque sends out its call to prayer and those who are observing stop to pray...those who are not continue with their day- life on the beach, driving, shopping, whatever they are doing. And no one seems to notice anyone else. It all just is.
But, as a visitor, I have no memory. And I've yet to truly understand the feelings close to the surface. For now, we are just travelers....enjoying the holidays. Perhaps with time there will be more to discover.
