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My experience in Cote d'Ivoire
In January of 1999, I flew to Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire. My trip had already been postponed once due to embassy bombings in other parts of Africa earlier that year. But by January, it all seemed quite safe. And it was. Currently, however, as I write this in January of 2003, things are very different. The once peaceful country that was viewed as a role model for other African countries which were often in a state of civil war is now going through its own civil strife. Peace negotiations have just occurred and I can only hope that this beautiful country with its kind and generous people can get back on its feet without further destruction. I went to Cote d'Ivoire to visit my friend Marianne who was a Peace Corps volunteer. She was halfway through her third year. (Most volunteers only serve two years, but Marianne had opted to stay to see through her project of building a maternity clinic in her assigned village, Groumania.) The voyage that I undertook with her and about twenty other Peace Corps volunteers was a two week bike trip across the middle part of the country. Marianne and the others had organized this event so that the entourage stopped in about 20 villages, where there were presentations, lectures, performances and question sessions about the following issues: education, healthcare, water and sanitation, and farming. The need for information on these subjects seemed to be great. There were many people who were living "normal" lives, going to school, taking care of their kids, yet who were severely malnourished and/or uneducated about crucial topics like HIV-AIDS prevention or birth control. The trip seemed to raise a lot of awareness within the villages and Marianne even gave interviews at the radio stations in the capital city, Abidjan, which were then broadcast nationwide for everyone to hear about the Peace Corps mission. The awareness that I, in return, gained from this trip was manyfold. Coming from America, I had been aware of the many inconsistencies between life in my own country and life in African countries, or in many less developed countries, for that matter. However, it really is a different thing to experience it in person. To talk to people who have lived their whole life in a mud hut; to ask a tiny child how old they are and hear them say 10, when they look about 5, due to malnourishement; to hear stories about Ivoirian friends of Peace Corps volunteers who would suddenly die due to an illness that could have easily been cured through anti-biotics: these were all mind-opening experiences. It was a trip which I will value forever and not just because of the daily witnessing of a life so different from my own, but because of the interactions I was fortunate enough to have with the people from Cote d'Ivoire. I have never felt so fully welcomed in any visit anywhere. On an average day, we would arrive in a village where drums were beating and people were dancing so hard that dust was flying. After some ceremonies, we would be fed an enormous meal, a rare event for most of the villagers. At night time, someone would bring us a bucket of water to cleanse off the sun and the dirt. Finally, we would be gently ordered to sleep in a stranger's bed while they slept at a neighbor's because we were the guests. I think because it seemed that my hosts offered everything they possibly could, it reflected the ultimate in selfessness and true generosity. I am grateful both to the Peace Corps for allowing me to accompany them on this trip, and also to all the people who allowed me to photograph them. I think their beauty as a culture is quite evident. |
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