Friday, July 28 - Return to Abidjan

Today I traveled from Dabakala to Abidjan, where I will catch my flight out of the country on Sunday morning. I had expected to make this trip by bus, but God arranged a different way for me to get to my destination.

Before getting into the details of my trip, I’d like to highlight the fact that God arranged for me to have a traveling companion. I had been mentally prepared to travel solo from Abidjan to Dabakala and back, but God saw to it that I had someone to accompany me in each direction. On today’s trip to Abidjan, my companion was Salomon—and yes, that’s the correct spelling of the name in French—a young man who is in training with the Catholic Church. His internship in Dabakala overlapped with my stay there at the Catholic mission, so we got to know each other over meals that we ate together. Since Salomon was traveling to Abidjan the same day I was, we made plans to travel together. Originally, our plans called for us to take the early-morning bus out of Dabakala, which would get us into Abidjan sometime around 4:00 pm. After getting off the bus, I would stay with our bags, while Salomon went in search of a taxi to take me to the SIL center. But as I already mentioned, God had a different plan for getting us where we were going.

Last evening Salomon learned that one of the Catholic priests from Dabakala was planning to travel by private vehicle to Yamoussoukro today, so we accepted his gracious offer of a ride for that portion of our journey (about 2/3 of the total distance in terms of time under normal circumstances). Our driver was one who is apparently a lover of speed, as I saw the speedometer indicate speeds that I normally only ever experience when airborne. Thus, even with a half-hour stop in Bouaké to greet the priest in residence at one of the centers there, we made the trip to “Yakro”—the short form for Yamoussoukro—in only three hours and ten minutes, arriving at 11:40 am.

Salomon and I were planning to get a bus from there to go the rest of the way, but upon arrival at the Catholic center in Yakro, we learned that another priest was coming down from the north, on his way to Abidjan. Salomon knew him, so he called his cell phone to find out where he was and if he would have room for us. At that point, he and his driver were in Bouaké, an hour or so north of Yakro and expected to arrive around 1:00. Salomon wasn’t sure he wanted to wait that long, and I was happy to pay for a bus to get us on the road sooner than that, so we headed off to the various bus stations to see when the next buses would leave. After inquiring at a couple of places, we learned that we had just missed the noon bus run, and the next ones wouldn’t be leaving until 1:45 or 2:00. So we went back to the Catholic center to await the arrival of the other priest coming down from the north.

1:00 came and went, as did 1:15. Salomon tried to call the priest we were waiting for but got a message saying he was “unavailable.” That might mean that his phone battery had died, he had turned off his phone, or he was in a location where there was no cell service. We didn’t know if he and his driver had decided to stop somewhere to eat, if they had had a breakdown, or what. Meanwhile, the resident priest in Yamoussoukro came up with some boiled yams and a tomato-based paste to go with them, and we had lunch while we continued to wait.

At 2:00, still with no news from the ride we were waiting for, we decided it was time to head off to the bus station and pay our way to Abidjan after all, since we had no idea how much longer we might have to wait for the person who had agreed to pick us up. For reasons unknown to me, it was close to 2:30 by the time we actually left to go to the bus station, but we were still unable to get through to our potential ride to find out where they were. We unloaded our bags at the bus station around 2:40, but before we bought tickets for the 3:30 bus to Abidjan, Salomon tried once more to contact the priest who was on the road. This time he got through and learned that they had just arrived at the Catholic center in Yamoussoukro, but no one was there! Salomon explained that we were now at the bus station, so they agreed to come by there to pick us up. Long story short, they didn’t know where the bus station was, and it took them another half-hour to meet up with us. So it was 3:15 when we finally got underway to Abidjan, having had a 3-hour layover in Yakro!

The second leg of the trip was a bit less harrowing as a passenger, since we topped out at only 80mph and there were fewer potholes in the road that we had to swerve around than was the case between Dabakala and Yakro. We had only one stop along the way—to buy some smoked agouti, which I understand is a large wild rodent of some kind.

When we got into Abidjan, we were dropped off at a location agreed upon by Salomon and our host, and from there we would travel by taxi to our respective destinations. I stayed with my bags, while Salomon struck off in search of a taxi that would take me to the SIL center. That process took 15 minutes or so, but he was eventually successful, so I threw my bags in the trunk and got into the taxi after expressing my thanks to Salomon for all of his help in getting me to where I needed to go and bidding him good-bye.

Once in the taxi, I learned that the landmark near SIL that “every taxi driver was sure to know” was unknown to mine. But he knew the section of town I was referring to and said that, once there, he would ask where the “big mosque” (the well-known landmark) was. It turned out that, by the time he asked, we had already passed it, so we had to do a u-turn in Friday evening rush-hour traffic. (Some things are possible for taxi drivers that are impossible for us mere mortals.) After getting more specific directions from another person or two, we found ourselves in front of the “big mosque” but still unsure of where SIL was. I knew the way to SIL from a particular traffic circle, but we weren’t sure where that traffic circle was. But after a few minutes of more interesting driving, where we once again stared down traffic coming toward us from the opposite direction and drove over curbs to get out of their way, we found the dirt road that leads to SIL.

All in all, it was a very interesting, but very exhausting day. I was ready for a meal, a warm shower, and a bed. The meal came in the form of a pizza shared with an SIL colleague at a nearby restaurant. My taste buds were quite happy about this variation from the local cuisine I enjoyed up north, though I remain very thankful for the very diverse menu offered to me during my stay in Djimini country. The warm shower turned out to be a mirage, as the gas water heater pilot light was not lit and I don’t know how to light it. I’ll get some help with that tomorrow. The bed, however, is no figment of my imagination, and I plan to spend a significant amount of time recovering from the fatigue of these past few weeks of intense and very-focused work on the Djimini dictionary.

I am glad to have had the opportunity to help the Djimini people, but I am also glad to be back in Abidjan, looking forward to being back home with my family again.