Twenty years ago, Niki would not go two doors up the street to spend the night with her best friend. She would call by 9PM, crying - "I'm coming home" or "come get me". Our first glimpse (at the airport, one large ocean away from home) of Niki in a year caught her arguing with a gendarme. In a language she didn't speak last time we saw her. Whoa Nelly! This was but a sign of the contrasts, contradictions, and extremes we would see in the next two weeks!

...Bon Arrive...
We arrived in Ganse on Friday, January 11. It was a 3 ½ hour ride from Bondoukou. What a ride!!! It was a long (rough) dirt road, woods on both sides, one side being the Comoe National Park. As soon as the car was spotted, the kids all came running out of the school, wildly waving their arms and screaming "Niki. Niki. Niki." The adults, too, greeted us. It didn't register at the time, but the adults were probably addressing Niki as Adja, her village name. We had prepared for our arrival by donning the very colorful African shirts that Niki gave us. Lo & behold, the first two shirts I notice in the village - one said 'Furman", the other, USM (Southern Miss) Golden Eagles. They took one look at us and thought, good grief!…here come the tourists! They were very friendly and walked us through the village to Niki's house. Niki was greatly surprised. They had built her an "appotam" (a gazebo looking edifice - about 14 or 15 feet in diameter, with a thatched roof), had completed her latrine and had painted her house. Niki attributed this "construction" to the fact that her family was coming and decided she should have invited us sooner…and will invite us more often. They brought snacks for us to the appotam…and visited a while. They kept saying we were to go to the village (Niki's house is about 150 - 200 yards from the main part of the village) but that they weren't ready for us yet. That seemed a little odd to us. But what did we know. This was our first time in the village. Eventually, they were "ready for us" and escorted us to the village proper.

…Welcome…
At the reception, we were treated like family they had not seen for 20 years. What a moving, welcoming reception. They had constructed (while we were waiting at Niki's) a fence & archway - made of palm leaves and bouganvilla (colorful flower that looks like an azalea). Each of us was escorted through the archway by two dancers, garbed in very colorful attire, then seated next to the King. Along one side were seated all the Notables of the village. All the villagers were gathered around for the ceremony. There were eight females who danced to bongos for the longest time. Then the Secretaire of the village gave a speech welcoming us. More dancing. Then villagers presented us with gifts - pagnes, a goat (we had for dinner that evening), a mouton (we asked them to have that for their Easter celebration) & a large bag of ignames. (Later, when walking around the village meeting everyone, another villager gave Susie a goat.) The Secretaire, after consultation with the King & the Notables, then gave us our Village Names. More dancing. Then, it was my turn. Before leaving the US, I had written a "speech" (thanking the village for all they've done for Niki) to be given at the village. A fellow employee translated it into French for me. (She also helped with pronunciation.) I thought it would be meaningful if I attempted to say something to them in a language they understood. In my wildest imagination, I did not anticipate the reception I received. After every sentence, they would clap and cheer. It became very heart tugging for me. Niki later remarked that she didn't think I was going to be able to complete it. After the speech, I presented the King with two bottles of gin. (I did not know to do that…it was suggested to Niki by Kouame, the King's nephew and Niki's "protector" in Ganse.) They poured a glass of gin and gave a speech about how our family would always be joined with and be a part of Ganse. The gin was then poured on "the earth" to signify this "union". More dancing. They encouraged us to get up and dance with them…which we did, with only a little coaxing. What a party!!! Ganse knows the meaning of hospitality!!! This was easily the highlight of our trip! Now, having given you the description of the way they welcomed us, I have to admit (& you have probably figured this out already)… That welcome was great! But it was not for the three Americans who just showed up. This was absolutely a tribute to Niki and the incredibly powerful relationship of trust & love that has been established in her (slightly less than) one year there. I told you they treated us like family. That is the way they feel about Niki. That knowledge was better than any reception anybody will ever give us!!!

…they call us….
One of the customs in Ganse is to name everyone - not just their children, but everyone who is "born into" their village. The first name they give you is associated with the day of the week you are born. It is not the name for the day of the week - just a name associated with that day. There are male & female names. Even at that, there are still only seven days in the week. If they don't come up with another name, there's gonna be a lot of confusion with all the Kouames running around. So, they also give a second name - one that has meaning in their culture. This is more than ceremony. They do call us by these names - and did for our entire stay. Niki's name is Adja Nyonboynyo meaning "you don't really know someone the first time you see them". Susie's name is Affoua Bawarminidjo meaning good or bad cannot be read on someone's face. (…not sure I agree with that…). Eric is Kouame Toubenity meaning everything has an end. (…not sure I understand, or would want, that name.). My name is Koffi Helebomini meaning do according to your power (live up to your potential?).

…around Ganse…
We stayed in Ganse three days & nights…sleeping in Niki's house. Her house consists of three rooms, each approximately 10 x 12. Two of the rooms are connected - her kitchen & bedroom. Just off the bedroom is a 3 x 3 (maybe 4 x 4) room used for 'bucket baths". The third 10 x 12 room can only be accessed by an outside door. This is Kouame's room. Actually, it is Kouame's house. But it is Niki's until she leaves. The King (Kouame's uncle) said she could have it because they had not finished her house. Her house is approximately 150 - 200 yards from the main part of Ganse. They are planning on some houses near her…but none completed yet. And they have cleared all the brush between her house and the village (as the result of an unfortunate incident…but the clearing was done with her safety in mind.) The first night in Ganse, we all ate in the village. Kouame had cooked the "gift" goat… We also had ignames & foutou. Every morning, noon & night, they would bring us food at Niki's. The main players here (I don't know that they cooked all these meals, but they brought the meals to us) were Kouame, Ama, Badoo & Koffi. By Sunday, I discovered Montezuma had a French cousin. They started bringing bland food (bread, bananas) for me. What hospitality! One day, we walked around Ganse to meet everyone. It was very relaxing. One of the very heart tugging stories was about Kouakou, whom we met during this walk. Kouakou is a very intelligent young man. He had joined Niki's English class - which she began in August 2001. He was determined, he told Niki, to talk to us in English when we visited. And he did. As we approached him, he was reading one of the English primers we had sent. Niki says he will read these, armed with a French/English dictionary & a notepad by his side. He looks up words…and makes notes on anything he doesn't understand. He gets Niki to help with those notes, then he re-reads the book. He repeats this process until he can read the book without using the dictionary or making notes. What motivation! Some of the villagers know a few English words - but Niki is the only English speaker in the village. How he stays motivated is incredible.

"La Grand"
The Ivorians (in the village) are slightly built - very thin, but solid muscle (maybe one half percent body fat). Next to them, I am considered 'big' - not so much in height (I'm only 5'7"), but "thickness". Well, Eric tips the scales at 225 - 230. To them, he is large. So, they started referring to Eric as "La Grand". All of us have large calves. The folks in the village were amazed at the size of Niki's. Until they saw Eric's. (La Grand's calves are so big, he has difficulty finding good fitting ski boots.) These guys would break away from their dancing, run over to La Grand, grab his leg & start pointing at his calves. I can only imagine what they were saying. But they were impressed!

…Coutacou…
I have no idea how to spell it…but it's pronounced "coo-ta-coo". We were introduced to cutacoo after our first evening meal. Cutacoo is "home brew", "moonshine" - rice based, strong stuff. They asked if we wanted to try it. Niki warned us this would happen. Eric & I were game. I told Niki it tasted like the "white lightening" we used to get in Alabama when I was younger. This was as potent - but seemed to go down smoother. Niki translated the 'white lightening' moniker… Often, little idioms like that lose meaning when translated into another language. This one translated well. They liked that name.

"…catch…"
Sunday, we took a walk around Ganse. Niki wanted us to meet everyone. It was very interesting.
During our walk, I noticed a TV antenna. Whoa. What's this? Well, Niki says they "rig" that TV up to a car battery. She said there might be 40 people sitting around watching (silently) at any given time. When the battery goes kaput, they take up a collection to have it recharged. So…what is their favorite show…? "Catch" - which is their moniker for "rassling" - WWF! They love it. They didn't believe Niki when she told them it wasn't real! And they thought La Grand should be part of "catch".

…Monga…
We visited Niki's host family - Jean Pierre & Benedicte - in Monga. They, too, were very hospitable - seems to be a national characteristic in Cote d'Ivoire. Niki lived with this family for her first three months in Cote d'Ivoire. They got to be very close. They plied us with gifts - pagnes for Eric & me. To Susie, they gave a very colorful outfit - which is really two pagnes that sort of "wrap around". We had lunch, walked around Monga and met everyone and did the "chicken dance" with the kids in the courtyard. Kids are really cute. The really young ones are frightened of us white guys. The slightly older ones (4 and older) love being around us. As soon as a camera is evident, they are ready. They love having their picture taken. Niki told us (as we were saying our good byes) that these folks don't simply say good bye at the door. They walk with you for a while. How far they walk indicates what they think of you. They walked us all the way to the car - parked in the courtyard in the middle of town. We felt the same way about them. Here, too, I had prepared a French "speech" - thanking them for all they had done for Niki (protection, encouragement, helping with the language). They really liked that…and asked us to sign it and leave it with them.

…Abidjan…
Plan on spending little time here. This place is filthy, malodorous, poor and depressing.

Korhogo
This was an interesting stop. There were quite a few "artists" villages around Korhogo. They were difficult to find, however. You would turn off an already small dirt road onto a smaller dirt road…after a few miles, the village would appear. Here, we saw a weaving co-op, jewelry makers and many wood carvings. The weavers sat in two rows, facing each other, about 30 yards apart, with their "thread" stretched in front of them. There were about 12 - 15 people in each row, working on looms, weaving strips 6" - 8" wide. These strips were then joined together to make their pagnes, boo-boos, etc. Next, we visited the jewelry makers. Their "manufacturing" process is very interesting. They make balls or ovals by turning "river mud" (they emphasized it had to be river mud) in their hands. Then, they "poke" a hole in the center using a very thin, sharpened bamboo stick. (…didn't look like bamboo, but they said it was…) The ball or oval is sun dried, then baked (in a fire of rice husks) to harden. Then it is painted. All the paints - except blue, which is purchased commercially - come directly from nature (bush or tree leaves), or a mixture of the ones that come from nature. One of those sharpened bamboo sticks is inserted completely through the ball/oval. The artist then spins the stick while one end rests on his foot…and applies paint with a "chicken feather" as the ball is spinning. Very interesting process. Very interesting people. Purchasing 'souvenirs' in Cote d'Ivoire is an experience unto itself. You don't pay the 'asking' price - regardless of what that is. You negotiate. Some are more hard nosed negotiators than others. Susie is the former. She was unmerciful in her 'haggling'. Niki & I felt bad about her "hard bargaining". And she finally got her price. What she didn't see was Niki slipping the merchant some extra cfas. And, because it was said in French, she didn't understand Niki telling the guy not to say anything to her Mother about the extra $$$. So - we all came away happy…and feeling good about ourselves. (I know Susie will read this - but she'll get over it before Niki comes back to the States.)About two blocks from the hotel, Niki found a petrol station that sold Dove Bars. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

…Yamoussoukro…
Another city of extremes - poverty/wealth being the standout. This is the 'capital' - though there seems to be few government offices or activity there. The first President of Cote d'Ivoire built the Notre Dame Basilica here - modeled after St Peter's in Rome and only slightly smaller (by Papal request). They estimated the cost at $300 million. And he built this with his "personal" fortune. I can only guess where that money came from. And what an obscene waste of money. Two miles from the basilica are some of the worst slums you'll ever see! (Cabrini Green & Watts in the US look plush in comparison!) This President also constructed an enormous Mosque - again with his 'personal fortune'.

Grand Bereby
Grand! it was! What a retreat! We rode through San Pedro on the way to 'the beach'. San Pedro was unbelievably poor. The roads were wretched. Within a 30 minute drive from San Pedro, we were "at the beach". Bamboo hut with thatched roof. Lounge chairs. 20 yards to the beach. 20 yards to the bar. Fishing village adjacent to our "hut" at Le Pyton. Here, we relaxed for two days…unwinding from our tour of Cote d'Ivoire…bracing ourselves for our return to Abidjan. Even this 'tropical island' had it's drawback. We had to leave!

…attention PCV Parents…
You might like to know (then again, you might not…), your "kids" have become very practical since leaving home. They rarely have to wash eating utensils (forks, knives)… Hey. Often they don't have plates to wash, either. They eat straight out of the pot. With their hands! Everyone does. Before eating, they pass around a pan of water and everyone washes their right hand - their "eating" hand.
More "practicality". They think latrines are more practical than toilets. You don't have to worry about latrines "clogging up"…or running out of water.
My point… Don't plan a "welcome home" party for them for at least two weeks after their return. Spend those two weeks 're-teaching' them the manners you worked on for their first 25 years.

…not Avis…not an interstate…not Courtyard by Marriott….
We were fortunate with our driver. Niki found out about Monsieur Tahi (ty-ee) through a mutual friend in Ganse. Monsieur Tahi is a very careful driver - a lot of them are - takes real pride in his car (he washed it three times in our two weeks on the road). But, judging from our driver, the drivers do not seem to be very savy 'car owners'. He didn't seem to know the workings of his car nor the effects poor roads would have on it. He had a nice car - probably about 1985 vintage Nissan wagon. There were four Ladniers (plus driver), so we managed to "fill it up". What roads! The "good" roads were bad. They were paved - which was disarming. They were full of potholes. Large potholes. Fortunately, there were four people in the car who saw every pothole. Unfortunately, our driver was not one of them. We bought a tire at one of our stops. Within 20 hours of driving time, the tire was bald - which I attributed to poor alignment…which I attributed to not being able to recognize potholes & not understanding the effects of those! The drivers do not seem to be real savy about their auto. The good news - the driver will not get lost. There are two reasons: there are not enough roads to make too many wrong turns (although, signs can get confusing, especially at forks in the road); unlike American males, these guys do not think their manhood is being questioned if they ask directions. In fact, Monsieur Tahi often asked three times within a half mile. And there were no turn offs in that half mile. But he didn't get lost!

Hotels/motels….
I would recommend the hotels we stayed in. The décor was circa 1950s - 1960s. Clean & safe made up for that! Do not rely too much on the Lonely Planet. Ask someone who has been there. At the last minute, we decided to stay in Yamoussoukro. We found the "Residence Place" (or some such name) in the Lonely Planet. Do not stay there!! In Abidjan, we stayed at the Hotel Eduard - A/C, cost 50,000 cfas for the 1st night; 45,000 cfas for the second night. (But now I don't remember whether that was per room - we had two - or total.). In Bondoukou, we stayed at the Hotel Marhaba - AC, 28,000 cfas, nice. In Korhogo, Hotel Mont Korhogo - 16,000 cfas/room/night, A/C. Yammasoukra - Hotel President (the only place to stay) - AC, 36,000 cfas/room (though the sign says 90,000 cfas), good restaurant. Grand Bereby - 10,000/room; Le Pyton - on the beach, bamboo huts, thatched roof, bar & reataurant!

…random thoughts (that might not fit neatly into any other "paragraph")…

…food…
Ignames (a 'tuber', like a potato but much larger) is a staple here. You can eat them fried, baked, boiled. They are even 'crushed' into a 'flour' and made into foutou (a 'dough' looking substance - that has very little taste). We had pork, goat, agouti (very tasty, but you probably don't want to know this "bush meat" animal is shaped very much like a possum), rice, bread (incredibly good), donuts (these looked and tasted like beignets), a corn based breakfast food (served warm had the consistency of oatmeal and looked like applesauce), fish, ham & cheese omelets, seafood pasta, chawarma (chicken & onion stuffed in a 'rolled up' tortilla looking dough).

…drink..
Beer is served in 65 centi-liter bottles (aka a 40oz bottle). That's a big beer. Usually, three of us would share one bottle - otherwise it would get warm before we could drink it. These big beers are referred to as "soixante-six" - or "66". I imagine that is in reference to it's size...but the French for "66" sounds better than the French for "65", the actual size. What's one centi-liter among friends….???
…faux pas…

In Monga, we walked around the village and Jean Pierre introduced us to everyone. His Mother said something to me in Mbatto (local dialect). Of course I had no clue. They told me she was asking about my health. Trying to be cordial, I repeated the phrase to her. (It was only three syllables.) They all laughed (not chuckled) when I did that. I thought it was simply because I was trying to speak Mbatto. As it turns out, I omitted an "r" in my three syllables. This changed "how's your health" to something loosely translated as "are you going to the latrine". After that, I confined my "foreign language" conversation to "bonjour"…!

…stomp…
The women make this food called foutou. (I believe) it is made from igname (but it might me manioc. Regardless, both are tubers). The igname is cut up and left to dry. Those slices are then placed in a large, deep wooden bowl and crushed into a flour-like substance using a mallet - a "stick", about 4 feet long, with fist sized mallets on each end. It is quite rhythmic. Each 'cook' has her own 'rhythm'. But generally, they strike the mixture in the middle of the bowl - THUNK - then slide it to the side of the bowl - CHIC. Everyone makes this. So, imagine 5 of these going on at the same time, each with a slightly different rhythm. Have you ever seen the play "Stomp"…? That's what this reminded me of…

…pride…
one of the 'talents' that is highly valued in the Peace Corps is spitting… That's right - spitting! Well, it seems my daughter (for this talent, Susie will let her be my daughter) can spit with the best of them. Some of the guys are even jealous because she can spit better (read further) than they can. All that early childhood training (& "good genes" - I am from Alabama) are paying off. Talk about a Father's pride!!! (Hey. Don't be too harsh on Niki or me. See "attention PCV Parents" paragraph just above…)

…cashews…
Did you know cashews grew on trees? We didn't. They do. They grow on the bottom of "fruit" that looks like a bell pepper. Actually, one cashew grows on each such fruit. The cashew is encased in a shell, which, by the way, is poisonous. (Interesting question. I can understand eating it because of hunger…and it killing the first few who tried it. The interesting question is who was the brave soul who, knowing the shell was toxic, decided to "peal it" and see if the "insides" was toxic..???!) To get to the cashew, you need to dry & crack the shell by throwing it in a fire, then pealing it. With all the work involved, no wonder cashews are so expensive! When asked if they eat cashews, they said never That's like eating money. It is their only cash crop.

…dance, dance, dance…
We danced each night we were in the village. These folks love to dance. Niki told me the kids would go crazy if I asked them to dance. And they did. I'm not sure how they do it…work in the fields all day, then dance into the wee hours of the morning. They easily outlasted us.

."…demand the road…"
When one departs the village, the custom is that you "demand the road". In turn, they say they give you "half" the road. The other half is for your return to the village.

…changes in attitudes…
These folks have a great outlook. They truly shrug off misfortune if they had no control over it. Kouame was explaining how their fields are "burned off" at the end of each season (for clearing & preparing for next growing season). One of the fires burned out of control and burned part of his cashew field - something he "matter of factly" accepted, since he could do nothing about it.

…churches…
There seems to be a lot of Muslims & a lot of Christians. Niki's village had 2 Mosques, 1 Catholic church. In almost every village, you could see a Mosque rising slightly higher than the houses in the village.

…attention PCV Parents two…
We had the distinct pleasure of meeting a number of the PCVs. Without reservation, we were impressed!!! We were (somewhat) subject to and (a whole lot) witness to the incredibly difficult conditions under which they operate. We have gained a whole new respect and admiration for them and the work they do. Their attitudes, unselfish dedication and sacrifice are "other worldly". (In spite of the fact that they eat with their hands), all PCV Parents can be justifiably proud of these "kids" and their accomplishments!!!

...Planes Trains and Automobiles...

…travel times…
You may not travel this route…or you may travel only part of it… But - you'll get the idea - nothing is close. Abidjan to Bondoukou - 5 hours; Bondoukou to Ganse - 3.5 hours; Ganse to Korhogo - 4.5 hours; Korhogo to Yammasoukra - 5 hours; Yamoussoukro to Grand Bereby - 7 hours; Grand Bereby to Abidjan 8 hours (but we changed a flat!)
Do not travel at night!

"…if I had it to do all over again..."
The first rule for this trip - if you absolutely can't live without it, pack it in your carry on!!! Then pack all your gifts in a second bag. Leave this second bag (of gifts) in Abidjan when you arrive. (This saves space in the car and the hassle of "dividing" up in the village. Your PCV can sort this at her/his leisure.) Then pack all the others things you need in a third bag. For your third bag, give serious consideration to 'leaving it in the States'. We learned this the hard way. Our bags showed up the day before we returned to the States. That was bad (we lived out of a back pack) and good (all those bags would not have fit in the car anyway!)

…fly the friendly skies…
Fly major airlines. We flew Delta to Paris, Air France (good airline) to Abidjan. (We have heard some ugly stories about Air Afrique. On the other hand, you just read Air France "lost" our luggage. Actually, they told us it wasn't lost. It was in Paris! Hello.) Use a travel agent. They know the pitfalls to avoid. And, if you do have a problem, you have an advocate to help you. (Have you ever tried to get a refund from a website?) We think it is a good idea to purchase travel insurance - in case of sickness…or whatever….and travel agents can help you with this…

…rent a limo…"
You will want a car and a driver. Expect to pay about 35,000 cfas ($50) per day. Plus gas. For this, you'll get a 1985 Nissan. A wagon, if you're lucky. Are you a worrier? Then you might want to "upgrade"…get an SUV (4 Runner, Range Rover, whatever). That will cost you approximately $70/day…plus gas, plus room & board for the driver. What's the advantage? Peace of mind. You never know the condition of that 1985 Nissan you can rent for $50/day. And AAA can't be found in the Cote d'Ivoire English/French dictionary. A little more information about 'driving'… It could best be described as "organized chaos". "Lanes" are (sometimes) painted on the streets. That means nothing. Drivers make their own lanes - pass on the right, pass on the left, pass on the sidewalk, doesn't matter. Some drivers (some times) stop for red lights. Brakes are rarely worn out. They're rarely used. An operating horn is more important than operating brakes!

…l'heure Afrique…
Are you punctual? Does it bother you when others are not? Well, remove your watch. And bring some valium. "L'heure Afrique" means "African time". If something is supposed to happen at noon on Saturday, the only thing you can be sure of is that it will happen - maybe on Saturday!