Coconuts and Soccer Balls

This (last) weekend was just what I needed!

Well, after not sleeping most of last week, more sleep and relaxation would have been nice, but it was also great to have a busy and booked weekend!  Well, booked and then a little empty, but that’s ok.

After some US Embassy warnings about a Gbagbo supporter rally planned for Saturday, I was planning on a boring weekend in, but when our social media/web guru mentioned going to an event with the Vacances Santé group on Saturday, I jumped at the offer, realizing I had absolutely no clue what I was jumping at.

Vacances Santé is part of the CCP’s Sports pour la Vie (Sports for Life) program that uses sports (notably, soccer) as an outlet for peer education about reproductive health, and encourages abstinence among teenagers.  VS is offered to girls ages 14-18, though SPV is for both girls and boys, because the girls have “fewer activities” and opportunities during the summer, whereas boys frequently have sports camps and tournaments and other activities.  The VS girls have been meeting in their quartiers across the city since June and this week is the end of the program, getting ready for classes to start in September. I was surprised to hear that I would be picked up at 8am and had no clue what time I would be back, but was excited to check out a new quartier of Abidjan, Poiboi (sp?).  All I really understood was that the VS participants were “going to some nearby villages,” but to do what?  No idea.

We arrive at a healthpost far away from the part of town I know, and right on the ocean.  This was the first time I had seen the Atlantic since landing a month and a half ago.  There were shanty homes, maquis/bars, and a few campements up against the water, so I could only see it through the narrow alley ways, but it was cool to be reminded that ABJ is right on the water.  We arrived and saw several large groups of girls already singing and dancing around, giggling, and buying cold yogurt from vendors walking around.  

My coworker who manages the SPV/VS program had confessed that he hadn’t slept all night because he could not stop worrying about the t-shirts he was supposed to pass out to the participants and if there were enough for all 300 girls.  Little did we know that would be the least of our problems.

Stuck bus and a crowd of girls

One of the four large buses was stuck in the sand on a hill when we arrived and it took ages for one of the other buses to get on the highway, turn around, and properly approach the stuck bus in a way that it could push it free of the sand without the bus rolling over.  This was done while my coworker nervously passed out t-shirts, carefully counting and verifying with his lists of participants.  As he was finishing up and people were milling around, rumor made it to him that some of the drivers claimed to not knowing they were expected to go to a village, let alone spend the entire day there, and were refusing to go.  Uhoh.

The negotiations and a yogurt man

Bread was purchased as a snack for the girls as negotiations began.  My two coworkers, representing a US government-funded project, supported by all of the VS and SPV trainers, arguing with a troupe of bus drivers, trying to figure out where in the chain of communication things got messed up.  All the while, the girls were still singing and dancing, hours later, alternating between doing so on one of the buses or in the sand of the road. They ate their bread while we all waited.  I hung out next to the CCP car with the driver, getting sunburnt in the overcast sky (first in CI!) and with random gendarmes coming up and asking “what embassy is this?”  Well over 2 hours later, and thanks to some local language negotiating by the social media guru who found the crack in the team of drivers, all except the ring leader had agreed that they were in the wrong.  We eventually wound up leaving our gathering place 3 hours late, with all 4 bus drivers and 300 teenage girls, for the village…oh Africa!  [As we were finally getting home at the end of the day, my coworker admitted what I had suspected…my skin color and a “US Embassy” car had encouraged the greed of the one driver who then convinced everyone else to team up in hopes of getting more money out of the trip.  Jerks!  I really hate it that my skin color is a liability in my work.]

Anyways…

The group was divided in half so as not to overwhelm either “village” and we headed into the bush.  Our car headed off to a coconut/palm tree research center and plantation that was ENORMOUS!  They have hundreds of varieties of coconuts growing on (a few thousand?) hectares of land, complete with little “cities” as they called them, instead of villages, for the workers and researchers to live on.  Though we showed up 3+ hours late, the village welcomed us and had us “share the news,” as they say here.  What does “sharing the news” involve?  Well, it’s customary in CI that when you are newly arrived somewhere, you drink water and share that “the news is good” and explain what you are doing there.  We met with the head of the research center, and were then introduced to the local village chiefs and “notables” and told about the history of the village as well as a little about coconut production.  Unfortunately, the youth of the village were at a big event outside of the village, leaving a bunch of adult men to welcome 300 14-18 year old girls. Weird.

After the presentations, the girls were offered the opportunity to ask the chiefs about any questions they may have about the village and boy did they!  The girls took the opportunity and whether knowlingly or not, publicly illustrated what they have learned over the course of VS as well as spotlighted the fact that all of the notables and people present to welcome them were MEN.  The questions started innocently enough: easy and basic things about the village and what you can do with coconut, etc, and then one bold 15 year old stood up and asked “What happens in this village when a girl enters puberty?”  The men were shocked.  The MCs tried to answer politely and then the next girls asked “Do you talk to your kids about sex?” and then the next “What happens in this village when a girl gets her period?”  The girls were showcasing their new reproductive health knowledge, the theme of the camp, and innocently wanting to know how things were like in this village.  However, without youth or women present, it was difficult for the men to handle.  Every response started somewhat belittlingly/mockingly “Well, my daughter…when these things happen, you talk to your mother…”  With the latest question, some women had come to the back of the room to set up lunch and I nudged my coworker and got him to convince the MC to invite one of the women up to answer the question.  She did so eloquently and correctly and the girls applauded excitedly (as did I!).  The next question turned out to be the final (due to the time and needing to eat lunch), when a girl asked “Does every girl get her period if she goes through adolescence?” or something like that and a few men stumbled through various responses and ended with one MC who said something blatantly wrong…and the girls knew it.  [Why the girl asked this question after being in the program so long, I am not sure, but it was met with a bizarre response.] My coworker called out to the other trainers that if that happens again with another “technical question” that they need to take the mic and say the correct answer.  It was awkward and frustrating and humorous all piled into one.  Then we ate a delicious lunch, right after one of the city officials with us lectured a female trainer for sitting “in a man’s place” at the table.  She’s Ivoirian and looked at him like he had 3 heads, as she should, because he was being macho and we were at a camp meant to support and empower girls.

Village girls in red, VS in blue

After lunch, the social media guru and I headed to the other “village”, which was off of the coconut plantation and along the lagoon and more like a few homes rather than a village.  We arrived and “presented the news” again, though it had been done earlier, with more village chiefs and then watched a team of VS girls take on a ramshackle women’s team from the village.  The village didn’t really understand the full purpose of the day and didn’t have many young women at all, so it was mostly some of the younger “mamas,” or women in their 20s and 30s, who passed off their babies and donned SPV uniforms despite never having played.  They did not have much of a chance next to the VS girls who play a few times a week, but it was still a fun match to watch and the village women had a few stand out stars, so that was fun.  After, they wanted to do a photo “en famille” (ie group photo) with our girls…and the village chiefs/men?.  The village women’s team was already dispersed…until I called out the fact that they should be in the picture and sent some trainers running to find the women to join the picture.  We left the village, the girls still excited, dancing, and singing without ceasing.  It took us over 3 hours to get home due to extra military blockades due to an attack earlier in the day and I couldn’t wait to shower and fall into bed.

Singing and waiting for the rest

Immediately upon getting out of the truck in front of my home, holding a bag of coconuts from the plantation village and a neighbor drove up on his motorcycle, saying something about his brother marrying a German woman and them fighting a lot because she doesn’t know ABJ at all or speak the language, and would I be willing to talk to her, as a German woman?  He handed me the phone, said to me she doesn’t speak French, and then there was a confused voice on the other end.  Apparently, they had stopped by my place earlier in the day but I wasn’t home and so she couldn't meet another German in ABJ.  Not German!  Anyways, we made small talk and she asked me to get a drink with her bf and her that evening but after 12+ hours in the field and transport, committing to several hours being out was more than I could handle.  I sadly turned her down and then her bf got on the line and begged/convinced me to let them come over for “20 min” to chat and talk with her about ABJ.

Three hours later, they were still at my house!  Actually, this wasn’t too bad and turned into an enjoyable evening.  I shared one of my coconuts (and drank the fresh juice) with them and her bf fetched us chwarmas and we chatted about life as an expat in ABJ, and Africa, and a lot more.  It was quite enjoyable and surprising.  She had been in ABJ a month like me but unfortunately was scheduled to fly out the next day.  Around midnight, they headed out to meet friends on the town and as much as I would have loved to see ABJ at night, I was barely functioning and had barely slept all, but we agreed to meet up and check out this enormous artisanal market and have her bf negotiate for us, before she flew out.  I was wiped out but excited about finally, and ironically, making a non-work friend here the day before she leaves.  Figures.

Unfortunately the next morning, they had to cancel because she hadn’t yet packed and they had about a bajillion family farewells to say before she left.  Bummer!  Though I was exhausted beyond belief from the week and a busy Saturday, I was really bummed, for both the loss of a prized social event and the opportunity to go to said market.  I wandered to church but spent the rest of the day trying to be productive, but much too exhausted to do much of anything.  Still, I was happy with the weekend.

More pics are up to check out here!