Most of our moving money has been spent on essentials - stove, refrigerator, mattresses, security and advance on the rent. We are still busy trying to complete details about water and electricity payments. While the utility companies operate with an orderliness and aim to serve that all of Kinshasa should be envious of, it does require a bit of back and forth.
The orange taxis, more expensive and often in slightly better condition, are the easiest mode of travel. They bring you directly to your destination. I ve been developing a verbal map of Abidjan as we decipher how to get from place to place. Some of the larger roads have names, which I ve taken to writing in a small notebook. Otherwise, we are bound by landmarks and references. It all lies in choosing- or knowing- the right references. Occasionally, we re left to do things the old fashioned way- we simply have to ask along the roadside. My notebook has proven invaluable for repeat trips, and if we see an interesting store or market along the way, I usually note that down as well.
Abidjan is spread out into what feels like a million small towns. We live in M Pouto which I ve begun to envision as one of the last little country and dirt road communities. It lies between the lagoon and the more prestigious Riviera sections- II and III. Abidjan is booming with construction of McMansions and McVillas, Riviera III is no exception. A few back road shortcuts to our house have revealed blocks and blocks of these kinds of neighborhoods going up, giving the whole place a South Florida feel- clean, neat and beautiful in a stencilized and highly repetitive way.
This area is also home to the yellow taxi, the cheap local travel known as worro-worro- I have no idea how to spell it and can barely even pronounce it correctly. I also can t really figure out how to get anywhere in these taxis. When I go out alone, I choose to walk about 15 min down to the main carrefoure marking the entrance to MPouto. There I can grab a worro-worro going straight up the hill and get off anywhere along the road for 100-200FCFA. A ride like this can get me to the American school, a really yummy bakery and ice cream shop, a very cozy book and stationary store or a home decorating shop, along with a number of other small groceries and fruit markets. I found a short cut over to the big supermarket I try to avoid due to its deceptively high prices, though a trip there is a necessity at times. I was feeling pretty frugal and accomplished the day I got there for a mere 100FCFA. Of course, the ride back with all my bags directly to my door requires orange service to the tune of 1500-2000FCFA, but its still nice to know where corners can be cut.
Each area has their own color worro-worro. Koumassi is home of the green taxi. Its also become, in my mind, the Home Depot section of Abidjan. We first went there to find the Congo-Brazza consular- an affair that took 2 days of internet searching and 1 full day of fruitless roaming by taxi to find. I ve since noted it in my notebook Consular, Congo-Brazza, Terminus 11 Koumassi. While we were getting a passport photo, we got a good tip on ceiling fans and that went in the book as well. Ceiling fans, Market Jakonai, Grand Carrefoure Koumassi. It goes like that. We pass bikes, a paint store, some tiles I hope to browse and buy one day for the front walk project. It all goes into the notebook- landmarks, references, street names when available and the quartier.
What I really want to do in Koumassi is just get out and walk around. Christian likes order and swiftness. He prefers to shop in closed stores and boutiques rather than outdoor markets. We ended up getting ceiling fans at the GM appliance store and never actually made it to what I imagine is the hectic and bustling Market Jakonai. But me? I like outdoor. I like bustling and hectic. I want to browse through the buckets of bolts and washers.I want to buy random pipes and bits of iron bars. I am pulled to these things by a desire to reassemble them into sculptures and collages. I want to buy the pristine and perfectly square tiles and smash them into pieces so I can make mosaics in cement. I am a perpetual do-it-your-selfer and I have written often of my longing for that junk drawer. Our house has no drawers- not a single one, not even in the kitchen- and so I am eager to create my own assemblage of bits and pieces of inspiration that could fill an empty paint bucket and hang out, maybe in the ugliest part of the house hallway, waiting to be transformed into something beautiful.
