The last few weeks have been busy ones at work, but I did manage to get away and do some fun things in the process. I spent the day in Yamoussoukro, which is the official capital of Côte d'Ivoire, although all political and economic institutions, the head quarters of all the international organisations, embassies and banks, are all based in Abidjan. Yamoussoukro is basically a village that in 1900s had a population of about 500 people, and subsequently underwent development of monumental proportions in what can only be described as a fit of megalomania by Félix Houphouët-Boignyhimself, prostrate and holding a bunch of palms, as well as the architect and a few other notables. Pure tack. Although someone did point out that Louis XIV forked out on the Palais de Versailles despite the abject poverty faced by the majority of French people, and we are quite glad of this national treasure today, but there is still something perverse about the money spent on this enterprise when you consider the average living conditions here. And I wouldn’t mind only the Basilica is no Versailles, it must be said. In fact once you get over the initial impressiveness of the scale of the thing, it has more similarities with a Versace gilded celebrity interior you'd find on MTV Cribs than a renaissance treasure. I forgot to mention that while it seems takes an age to get anything done around here without running into about a million constraints, the Basilica was completed in a tidy 3 years. It's worth the detour though, and it will be interesting to see how the capital evolves and if the migration will ever happen. Also applicable to the phantom elections which have yet to take place. We also visited the Ecole Polytechnique, which is equally massive and in fact would put UCD campus to shame. And we stopped off to say hi to the crocodiles who inhabit the moat-like reservoir around the presidential residence.
Friday I joined Dervla and we went Abobo Baoulé, a 'quartier' north of the city, to watch a rehearsal of a new play being produced by the theatre company "Ymako Theatri" for the Wild Chimpanzee Foundation. The troupe travel around the country and put on plays in local villages to raise awareness and basically tell people not to kill monkeys and co, not to destroy the national parks, and not to sell or buy bush meat. God, I saw two flattened, mildly smoked, fly-infested 'agouti' (giant bush rat-type things) on a plate being sold on the side of the road back from Yamoussoukro. I politely declined the offer to purchase them. Apparently there is also a maquis in Abidjan called 'Le Zoo' (slightly perverse) where they sell bush meat and monkeys, despite the fact that it's totally illegal. Anyway, the play was really good, and explained things in a very relatable and funny way, with some music and dancing. We met the group before they started and they were very nice and curious about Dervla's 'camarade', and couldn't get over how pale I was. A lot of people have actually said to me 'oh you haven't been here for long, have you, judging by the colour of your skin!', and don't really seem to believe me when I say that I will in fact remain this colour, or a varying shade or red, no matter how long I stay in the sun. Actually I detected a note of jealousy, dare I say admiration, when one of the actors asked me 'Comment tu fais??". And they kept on saying, 'ah cela elle vient des pays des glaces!' 'oui, de l'antartique, des océans glacés!', without a notion that might not be received as a compliment. And despite the unwanted attention my epidermis has afforded me over here, I suppose I have come to reconsider the Irish/European notion that white is crap and only tanned skin is pretty. Bring back the Elizabethan fashion, I say! Perhaps not. Well, I shall try to hang on to this tentative proudness of my 'pale and interestingness' when I find myself lying on the beach in Barcelona in a few weeks in a sea of lithe, caramel Spaniards. (the first president of Côte d'Ivoire who served for about 30 years). Yamoussoukro is known for its odd ghost town quality, since it is an entirely artificial construct, with opulent buildings and grand hotels, but very few people actually occupying them. It was made the official capital in the 80s, but the administration and life-force of CI contained in Abidjan has yet to be transferred there. The greatest display of emperor's new clothes-ness is the Basilica, which is the biggest and likely most expensive cathedral in the world. It's HUGE and weird, and surrounded by nothing. It was designed by some looper of a Lebanese architect who modeled it on St. Peter's in the Vatican. Why not, indeed? It's entire circumference is adorned with huge stain glass windows, and one of them depicts a procession of faithful followers behind Christ on Palm Sunday, featuring none other than Houphouët-Boigny
Friday I joined Dervla and we went Abobo Baoulé, a 'quartier' north of the city, to watch a rehearsal of a new play being produced by the theatre company "Ymako Theatri" for the Wild Chimpanzee Foundation. The troupe travel around the country and put on plays in local villages to raise awareness and basically tell people not to kill monkeys and co, not to destroy the national parks, and not to sell or buy bush meat. God, I saw two flattened, mildly smoked, fly-infested 'agouti' (giant bush rat-type things) on a plate being sold on the side of the road back from Yamoussoukro. I politely declined the offer to purchase them. Apparently there is also a maquis in Abidjan called 'Le Zoo' (slightly perverse) where they sell bush meat and monkeys, despite the fact that it's totally illegal. Anyway, the play was really good, and explained things in a very relatable and funny way, with some music and dancing. We met the group before they started and they were very nice and curious about Dervla's 'camarade', and couldn't get over how pale I was. A lot of people have actually said to me 'oh you haven't been here for long, have you, judging by the colour of your skin!', and don't really seem to believe me when I say that I will in fact remain this colour, or a varying shade or red, no matter how long I stay in the sun. Actually I detected a note of jealousy, dare I say admiration, when one of the actors asked me 'Comment tu fais??". And they kept on saying, 'ah cela elle vient des pays des glaces!' 'oui, de l'antartique, des océans glacés!', without a notion that might not be received as a compliment. And despite the unwanted attention my epidermis has afforded me over here, I suppose I have come to reconsider the Irish/European notion that white is crap and only tanned skin is pretty. Bring back the Elizabethan fashion, I say! Perhaps not. Well, I shall try to hang on to this tentative proudness of my 'pale and interestingness' when I find myself lying on the beach in Barcelona in a few weeks in a sea of lithe, caramel Spaniards. (the first president of Côte d'Ivoire who served for about 30 years). Yamoussoukro is known for its odd ghost town quality, since it is an entirely artificial construct, with opulent buildings and grand hotels, but very few people actually occupying them. It was made the official capital in the 80s, but the administration and life-force of CI contained in Abidjan has yet to be transferred there. The greatest display of emperor's new clothes-ness is the Basilica, which is the biggest and likely most expensive cathedral in the world. It's HUGE and weird, and surrounded by nothing. It was designed by some looper of a Lebanese architect who modeled it on St. Peter's in the Vatican. Why not, indeed? It's entire circumference is adorned with huge stain glass windows, and one of them depicts a procession of faithful followers behind Christ on Palm Sunday, featuring none other than Houphouët-Boigny
2 comments:
hehehe, well as I said before I think, its all grand as long as they don't start saying that you have a skin disease! THAT is insulting!!! Sounds fantastic!
ah yes, Barcelona.. where we were racially abused and called 'Blanquitas'!!
delphine
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