Ivory Coast

Visited: November 2022

Duration of visit: 12 days

Capital city: Yamoussoukro

Population: 27 million (2022)

Estimated reading time: 23 minutes

• Having a good time in Abidjan – the biggest city, economical center and a cultural crossroads of West Africa.
• Meeting a new friend Leonie, who introduced us with local kids in the village of Elibou 2.
• Attending an intense Abbisa Grand dancing festival in Grand Bassam.
• Helping local fisherman pulling a net out of the sea, enjoying the waves of empty beach in the village of Adoumangan.
• Swimming in warm waters of Ebrié Lagoon at Kafolo.
• Yamassoukro – the bizarre capital of Ivory Coast, where the highest church in the world stands.
• Enjoying a traditional Zaoli dance of the Guro people in Bouafle.
• Crossing the border to Liberia on a moto taxi – a wild ride on a bush road through pristine forest.

After travelling through most of East Africa and West Africa by myself, I decided to take my kids and my partner for the first time with me. During previous country research, I considered Ivory Coast a perfect match for a family trip.

The plan was to practice French, explore one of the most pleasant African metropolises – Abidjan, rest and enjoy an unspoiled beach in a relaxed and quiet surrounding. Additionally, experience original culture, travel around with public transport, investigate community markets and enjoy hospitality of friendly people, who don’t care too much about foreign visitors. It was supposed to be quite safe as well, with very little crime.

It turned out that most of my expectations were reasonable and we had great time in Ivory Coast.

It was easy to get visas at Vienna embassy, where one of the employees gave me all kind of additional information, helpful advices and welcomed me to visit his homeland. On the Airlines flight to Abidjan I didn’t notice any other foreign visitors and to my surprise, during the next two weeks, I saw only one group of tourists in Yamoussoukro.

Money change at the airport was straightforward, I got my local SIM card and we quickly found a reliable taxi driver for a fair price, who drove us to a previously booked apartment in the city center.

There were two civil wars that marked the history of Ivory Coast, after the peaceful independence in 1960 and prosperity under the first, long-time president Félix Houphouët-Boigny, who died in December 1993. The wars were preceded by a tumultuous decade, fueled by an economic downturn and, following the death of president Félix Houphouët-Boigny, a leadership succession crisis.

The succession crisis manifested in a 1999 military coup d’état and a violent dispute over the result of the 2000 presidential election.

The background of the conflict also reflected the religious divisions in the Ivory Coast between the Muslim north and the Christian south. The First Ivorian Civil War was a civil conflict that began with a military rebellion on 19^th September 2002 and ended with a peace agreement on 4^th March 2007. The 5-years conflict pitted the government of Ivorian president Laurent Gbagbo against a domestic insurgency led by the Forces Nouvelles de Côte d’Ivoire.

Three thousand people died, French soldiers, who supported the central government, destroyed most of the remaining planes.

Finally, the Ivorian Air Forces and the Ivory Coast national football team helped secure a peaceful agreement, when, after qualifying for the 2006 World Cup, they called on all sides to negotiate a settlement.

Yeah, football plays a big role in Africa!

The Second Ivorian Civil War was a much shorter five-month conflict between 2010 and 2011. The real war broke out in March 2011 when the crisis in Ivory Coast became a full-scale military conflict between forces loyal to Laurent Gbagbo, the President of Ivory Coast since 2000, and supporters of the internationally recognized president-elect Alassane Ouattara. An estimated three thousand soldiers, members of various security forces and civilians were killed in the conflict.

The economy of Ivory Coast is stable and currently growing, in the aftermath of political instability in recent decades. Ivory Coast is among the world’s largest producers and exporters of coffee, cocoa beans and palm oil. Especially cocoa beans have been historically the central pillar of ups and downs in economic development. These days, the economic activities are widespread and largely market-based, but still depend heavily on the agricultural sector.

For a developing-country, Ivory Coast has an outstanding infrastructure: a network of more than 13,000 kilometers of paved roads, modern telecommunications services, wide and inexpensive cellular phones and internet access.

Though Ivory Coast accounts for 35% to 45% of the cocoa produced around the world, it receives only about 7 % of the global revenue from the commodity.

When cocoa prices were high in the 1970s, the beans accounted for nearly half of the value of a chocolate bar. Today, producers receive around 7% of the value of the final product. The rest goes to branded manufacturers, who take roughly a 44% share, and retailers who take 35%.

Considering the fact that nearly six million people rely on the cocoa industry in Ivory Coast, there is no wonder why poverty is still high. The main challenge has been turning cocoa beans into cocoa powder, beverages, chocolate bars and other goods locally, to develop chocolate industry and keep more added value in the country.

Abidjan is the biggest city, economical center and strategically positioned on the Gulf of Guinea, surrounded by the Ébrié Lagoon. A cultural crossroads of West Africa and the third most populous French-speaking city in the World, with a population of over 6 million. Also, one of the most pleasant, organized and safe cities to visit in Africa. Nevertheless, all of this is not enough to be the capital of Ivory Coast!

We settled down in a nice apartment in the area of Cocody, which seemed quite confusing at the beginning, but it turned out to be a vibrant, safe and well-located area. The area is located next to the remarkable Sofitel Hotel, which was a good orientation point for commuting during the next days.

Hungry and tired after long flights, we were accompanied by a landlord’s s assistant to a narrow, walking street with many bars, restaurants and open-air BBQ’s, where mostly chicken and fish were roasted. The area seemed a little bit run down, neglected and dirty, therefore we looked doubtfully at each other, hoping that we were only passing through this section.

Suddenly, we felt sand under our feet, palm trees and view to the lagoon opened. It was not important any more, how the food was prepared. We were so hungry and tired, that we were happy to adjust to local habits immediately. Soon, grilled fish and chicken were on the table, accompanied by potato, attieke – a side dish made of cassava, aloko – fried bananas, beer and soft drinks.

No cutlery was offered. Kids were happy to eat with hands; the food was delicious and we immediately blended in with the Ivorian environment.

Plateau is the administrative center of Abidjan, where all the governmental institutions are located: The central business district of Abidjan, where most of the large domestic and foreign companies have their headquarters. It was mostly deserted when I walked around on a Sunday morning. Little Paris, as it is nicknamed, due to its towers and buildings, overlooks the Ébrié Lagoon and offers some architectural landmarks; the most outstanding being modernist Cathédrale Saint-Paul and the Presidential Palace.

The first stone of the cathedral was consecrated in 1980 by Pope John Paul II during his first pastoral visit to Ivory Coast. The cathedral is unique and modern, from inside and outside. The cross structure is winged on both flanks, holding in position through seven cables which are anchored to the main building of the cathedral in a triangular shape; it creates an elevated vision that the structure is being tugged towards the lagoon. It can accommodate 5,000 devotees.

The Plateau is a model of town planning typical of the 1960s and 1970s, which has maintained clear lines with proper space for transportation and pedestrians – with other word – it is well organized. I could hardly see anybody walking or driving around on Sunday, since government and business offices are closed.

I made a contact with Leonie a few days before arriving to Abidjan. She runs a local NGO House of kids, which helps opening libraries in the poorest and most remote communities in the country. Together with her, we took a taxi to the outskirts of Abidjan, where two other people from Kid’s House organization joined us, to visit a village of Elibou 2.

One of the best highways in Africa that leads to the capital city of Yamoussoukro was not congested and the ride was smooth. We got off the bus in a small village and walked to the newly established library of a local school.

Almost hundred kids were waiting for us in the library compound, singing and clapping hands, when we entered the enclosure. I used all my knowledge of French to give a speech to the kids and representatives of local community.

We divided ourselves into different groups, played games, cards, gave basic lessons of English, read books and listened to songs that the kids were performing. It was getting hot in the library; therefore, we moved outside to play, dance and entertain.

Different skills were shown and everybody seemed to enjoy.

We donated books, workbooks, board games and some school utensils that upgraded the initial limited collection by the charity organization House of kids. It seemed that the cause was right; schoolmaster was very enthusiastic; the local authorities were involved and the kids highly appreciated our presence.

The local schoolmaster leaded us through rubber, cacao, fruits and vegetable plantations. Carpenters were cutting masks out of wood in a workshop. It was an extraordinary experience in contact with the African reality, which will be difficult to surpass. We were all so happy, believing that the cause was perfect and the way we donated all materials couldn’t have been better.

We drove back to Abidjan and went to a delicious dinner to taste local specialties: rice, cassava, plantains, fish, chicken and shrimps.

We were lucky to attend one of the most beautiful traditional festivals in Ivory Coast. The Abissa Grand Bassam Festival celebrates the time of renewal and forgiveness. The festival lasts 14 days. Throughout that period, the work activities or social ceremonies, such as weddings and funerals in Grand-Bassam town, are suspended.

The dance can be quite intense, when local people release their energy, while alcohol and drugs are filling the veins. Fortunately, we were invited to the VIP stage to observe the action up close in a controlled atmosphere. The music comes from percussionists who guide the dances and rituals at a frenetic pace. The beat of the cosmic drum provides a route to collective catharsis, that leads to the renewal and rebirth of the entire community.

During the Abissa Festival, men dress as women and vice versa; some are almost naked; most people paint their faces or the whole body with natural colors and embellish with colorful dresses or costumes.

People dance intensively, the heat of the day is still strong. Visitors are welcome to mix with young, old, wild, experienced or beginner dancers. Is it a spectacular, crazy or divine? All of it, depends on perspective.

It must be an extremely arduous project to establish a new capital city and spread economic activities, government offices and other infrastructure from a well-established city to an artificially built community or a small village. There are some success stories in the world of doing this, such as Canberra or Brasilia. Yamoussoukro is a failure and an expensive experiment of the first Ivory Coast president Félix Houphouët-Boigny.

He was born in a small village of Yamoussoukro and decided to establish a new center in the country, where the government could operate. Wide roads, presidential palace, highway connection with Abidjan and the biggest church in the world were built.

Not enough to attract bigger population, nor to move economic activities from Abidjan. The president died too soon to realize that it was a mission impossible: Later governments and civil war turned attention to other topics.

There is only one reason why people visit Yamoussoukro four decades after it was proclaimed the capital of Ivory Coast in 1983: the highest church in the world Basilique de Notre Dame de la Paix de Yamoussoukro.

The Notre Damme basilica is a tremendous project that could fit well anywhere else in the Christian World. Thousands of workers under the supervision of a local architect with Lebanese origins, Pierre Fakhoury, were putting together materials from Italy, FRance, Spain, Portugal and local origins to construct this monumental building. 30 years after its inauguration, it is still surprisingly well maintained.

According to the local guide, the basilica was donated to the Vatican after finished, and The Holy See takes care of maintenance and activities in it directly. With capacity for over 18,000 visitors, these days only a few hundred souls gather for the most visited masses on the weekends.

The village of Bouafle, located an hour ride outside of the capital city Yamoussoukro, is recognized as a home of the best Zaouli dancers. After contacting numerous people, I finally managed to get in touch with a person who was supposed to be a PR contact of Bouafla Zaoli group. Unfortunately, his French was so fast and difficult to understand that I always had to involve some interpreters, local friends or taxi drivers to help me.

We met the dancing group in an informal bar-restaurant under mango trees at 1:00pm. I quickly realized that the dance will not start immediately, nor soon. Sometime in the afternoon according to African time.

I invited food for each of the 12 group members. A French guy who also came by to attend the dance, bought the drinks. Fish, attieke, local food, beer, soft drinks, wine and water quickly filled up the tables. My kids taught the group members to play card game Uno, while through deeper conversation I learned more about tradition, culture and local habits.

Respecting tradition, as a guest in the village, I reported the latest news from my home town in exchange for the local update.

I spoke about climate changes:

“It used to snow in my childhood, but these days, people swim in the Adriatic Sea in beginning of November. The climate change has been impacting our lives. It is no good. I am anxious about it.”

We were 13 people all together, but I was not concerned, when the bill for the food came: 15.00 US$ for all of us. Drinks were as little as 9.00US$.

Zaouli is a traditional dance of the Guro people in central Ivory Coast. The Zaouli mask, used in the dance, was created in the 1950s, inspired by a girl named Djela Lou Zaouli (meaning Zaouli, daughter of Djela). However, stories on the origins of the characteristic mask are varied; each mask may have its own symbolic story.

The Zaouli dance was inscribed in 2017 on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO. Each Guro village has a local Zaouli dancer (always male), performing during funerals and celebrations. The dance is believed to increase the productivity of the village and it is seen as a tool of unity for the Guro community.

We were lucky to be invited for the Zaouli dance, which was actually part of a funeral ceremony. Sections of family members, visitors and VIP (where we were sited) were full by the time the corpse was delivered in a hearse and placed in the back. Our friends were playing drums, the accompanying dancers were warming up the public, while the main star was our friend Olivier, THE dancer.

Disguised in yellow dress and mask, he was in the center of the arena, while the band was playing behind, on the main stage.

The upper body position was maintained still as a vestige of the cattle cult, while hip, leg, and foot gyrations move all around at incredible speed maintaining the body stable, almost as gliding in the air.

People were applauding, inviting the dancer to perform in front of them, awarding him with banknotes, thrown on the ground.

The second dancer, with a red mask and his own musicians was showing new steps, also playing drums by himself. Our man, Oliver, accepted the challenge, returned to the central dirt arena and culminated the ceremony with a spectacular movement on one leg, while tapping on the drum. The spectators fell into ecstasy, throwing bank notes, screaming, clapping, applauding and cheering to the dancer, who was undoubtedly the main star of the evening.

The show was over, however, Oliver decided to give some personal tips and showed basic Zaouli dancing steps to my kids, while I was exchanging the final words with the president of Zaouli dancers group. It was dark, late and we were full of adrenaline, taking bus back to Yamoussoukro.

What a day! Africa at its best.

We found a small piece of paradise outside of the coast town Jaqueville. The ride from Abidjan was though due to a lot of roadworks, lack of transport vehicles and afternoon heat. Besides that, on Sunday, the transportation options seemed to be very limited. The first bus was bewildering, taking shortcuts through hardly existing paths in the western part of the city called Yopougon.

I was confused when we took the road with direction to Yammasoukro, but other passengers calmed me down reassuring that it was a detour to avoid roadworks on the main route. A moto-taxi quickly connected us to the junction where we were going to take the last vehicle to Jacqueville.

Even though all the situation seemed to be chaotic, people were helpful. I was issued a ticket and a completely run-down van for 15 passengers filled up quickly.

We were all counting the last meters in an uncomfortable minivan, when suddenly the main door was blown away from the supports. The driver assistant walked back along the road, picked it up and brought it back, finding out that, fortunately, nobody was injured.

I stepped out of the car, laughing as crazy, while the driver was screaming on the assistant, what the hell was he doing to let the door be blown away. The door was fixed with a rope and the life went on. We took a moto-taxi for the last part, to reach our lodge on the beach.

The beach was as expected. A little bit dirty with plastic bags, big waves and empty. We enjoyed in a small oasis as the only guests, with warm attention of Mama – the local lady. Even though chicken and fish were the only options, the food was delicious and authentic. When we convinced Mama that dishes don’t need to be extremely spicy to be delicious, she became our MasterChef.

Next to our lodge was a small community of fishermen from Ghana, living in extremely basic huts that were made of sticks and palm leaves.

We joined the fishermen to pull out the net from the sea. This is a 4 to 6 hours process when a group of 20+ people continue to pull the rope, which leads to the net that was spread out in the sea earlier.

The catch of the day was pulled out late in the afternoon: mainly small fishes that are grinded and eaten as pate in sandwiches. This way of fishing is very inefficient; hardly enough to survive. It seems that the limited number of fishing boats and expensive fuel reduce real fishing in the open sea to only a few times per week.

The second day, Mama came to work with his 11-year-old son, Rahim. For the next three days he seemed to be the happiest person around, enjoying the company of my children. My kids played with Mama’s son, like we did in the old time. No smart phone or other electronic devices were needed; crabs hunting, swimming in the waves, playing cards and other simple games. Communication among them was mostly with hands and a few new words in French that they picked up.

It took me almost the whole day to drive in a comfortable bus from Abidjan to Man in the western part of the country. Even though the city of Man is big in population, it resembles more a big size village with traffic chaos and food stalls along main streets than a serious urban unity.

The main reason to stop here was to visit nearby villages, where I could observe local dances. Especially, the stilt dance was high on my priority list. Somehow, I found a connection with people that were able to take me around and seemed to be knowledgeable about the dances.

Since I was the only visitor in the town and the logistics was expensive, I couldn’t afford to go to Silakoro, where apparently, the greatest stilt dancers performed.

The best alternative was to visit two other villages, not far from Man, where the so-called Ba dance is performed. In the village of Blolé, I was warmly welcomed by a mid-age woman, who offered me a local highly alcoholic drink – a kind of homemade brandy that is mixed with plants or wood chips. Strong, with nice smell.

The music started to play and I moved under a mango tree, where the performance was going to take place.

The vibrant sound was produced with long wooden sticks that were hit against each other by a group of six men, who also sung simple, repetitive words.

The dancer was dressed in special clothes, made of plant leaves, and covered with a mask. Some people from the village gathered around and started to move to the rhythm. I was invited to replace one if the musicians and joined the performance clapping with sticks. It was fun, personal and original.

A long day was ahead of me if I wanted to cross the Liberian border and reach the city of Ganta on the same day, since the transport options were limited. I ordered a taxi to pick me up in my apartment and take me to the right bus stop from where I could connect to the city of Danana, the crossing point of roads that lead north to Guinea and west to Liberia.

It was Friday, 7:30am.

A taxi driver took me to three bus stations, where we got the same answer:

“All buses leave in the afternoon.”

The driver decided to navigate to the intersection on the outskirts of Man, where I was immediately seated in the last available seat on a medium sized bus, parked in front of police checkpoint. All passengers have to wait until the driver finished arguing with a policeman.

This is a timeline of further activities:

• 8:45am: The bus turns away from the main road. I am transferred to the second bus; pleasant ride, music videos play on TV.
• 9:15am: We arrive to a village where I exchange buses again. Wait for 20 minutes and continue to the town of Danane.
• 9:30am: We approach the last bus stop. No cars are available to the border, so I negotiate a ride on a bike. Coffee for energy, filling up a tank, ready to go.
• 10:00am: Starting a ride to the border. Dirt road is in good condition, the rainy season has just ended. The dust is annoying, especially, when we meet a truck or a car, which is fortunately, not very often. At checkpoints my passport is verified, the driver has to pay bribes to get through.
• 11:30am: The border point is confusing. There is a market day on both sides. The formalities are taking time, since all uniformed people want to check my passport. I am registered in the security office and ready to go. Welcome to Liberia.
• 12:30pm: I change money, eat a corn and continue my trip. I made a deal with a bike driver Roger to take me to the first considerable settlement, named Ganza, approximately three hours away. The road is in much worse condition than in Ivory Coast, but I am happy. It is dry. Roadblocks are often, my passport is popular, bribes are sporadic and paid for no reason by the driver.

• 1:30pm: The driver stops. We have a flat tire. He wants to continue driving, but I get off the bike and let him drive ahead to the first vulcanizer. Another bike picks me up and offers me a lift to the vulcanizer.
• 2:30pm: We are back on track. Still two hours to go. The first paved parts of the road appear, but they are rare.
• 3:30pm: Engine chain fells off and we have to stop. Roger says, he can fix it. I am a little bit skeptical seeing limited tools, but 15 minutes later we continue driving.
• 3:50pm: The chain is down again. The procedure is repeated. I am observing in disbelief and thinking about other options. Clouds are gathering over the sky, preparing for a storm; it is only the question of time, when it will start raining.
• 4:05pm: The chain is down only after 500 meters of driving. I start looking for other bikes that have been passing by, pay Roger the full price, wish him good luck and switch the vehicle. I know Roger will find his way out, but I also need to move on.
• 4:30pm: The engine starts to whine at a higher speed, but the new driver Carcious is confident that even with technical problems there is no reason to worry. We keep changing travel speed according to the behavior of the engine.
• 6:30pm: We finally arrive to the legendary Jackie’s hotel in Ganta, Liberia. 6:30pm: I am tired, dirty as if I have just finished a shift in a dusty mine. I cannot stop laughing after making a selfie. I am happy to get a real shower and enjoy pasta for dinner.
• 8:30pm: Roger sends me a message, that he arrived safely to his home.

Ivory Coast exceeded my expectations in all aspects. From the first to the last moment, I was surrounded with friendly & helpful people, who were neither intrusive nor trying to overcharge me at any time. Spending time in small village, while donating goods to local children community, brought us closer to real life in a rural environment.

Timing was perfectly planned; at the end of rainy season, the weather was perfect, the roads were in good condition and accommodation was easy to find. It’s hard to explain what a blast we had with the kids, especially on the beach, but photos and videos are a good sample of it.

Ivory Cost is definitely one of the top destinations in Africa.