The tourist is passive; he expects
interesting things to happen to him. He
goes sightseeing.
-Daniel J Boorstein-
It was another slow start to the day for me. The ‘couples’ we off this morning to climb Mt
Korhogo. That is not my cup of tea. I have finally accepted the fact that I do
not like hiking, so why bother and I will not feel bad that I don’t go. My favorite saying at the moment with
anything that involves climbing a mountain is ‘f@#K that’. I did meet them for breakfast at 7am though,
and they set off at 8am and I went back to bed for an hour before waking up at
9.30am, having a shower and getting down to the business of doing my blog. It does seem like I spend a lot of time on
the blog, and I guess I do-but I do enjoy writing it and the comments that
people leave for me. It is nice to show
case the world we live in, and if people can’t travel, why not read about it
and live it through someone else, especially this part of the world that may
not appeal to everyone’s bucket list.
We all met back at 1pm and also met our guide for the
afternoon Cherie Bibi. He was quick off
the post yesterday and was at the hotel 5 minutes after we had pulled into the
hotel’s carpark. So going through the
options of what we could do with our spare day, it was agreed that we would
visit some of the local handicrafts places that were spread around the city and
outskirts, as this area is famous for its crafts of all types. Korhogo is a town in the north-central
region of Côte d'Ivoire or the Ivory Coast. It has a
population of 174,000 (estimate) and it produces and/or processes goods such as
cotton, kapok, rice, millet, peanuts, corn, yams, sheep, goats and diamonds.
The town was on an important pre-colonial trade route to the Atlantic coast. It is said to have
been founded by Nangui, a 14th-century Senufo patriarch
and still is the capital of the Senufo people. On September 19, 2002, Korhogo (as well
as Bouaké)
was seized by disaffected former soldiers,
calling themselves "Patriotic Movement of Côte d'Ivoire" rebelling
against the rule of President Laurent
Gbagbo. The coup was allegedly led by Robert Guéï,
the former military dictator overthrown in a popular
uprising in 2000. Despite the formal cessation of hostilities between the
government and rebels in 2003, Korhogo remains unstable, with continued
fighting between rival factions. In June 2004, forces loyal to rebel
leader Guillaume Soro claimed that his Paris-based rival Ibrahim
Coulibaly had attempted to assassinate
Soro, leading to gun battles which left 22 dead in Korhogo. In August 2004, the United
Nations' Ivorian mission announced that three mass graves,
containing at least 99 bodies, had been discovered in the town. On November 29, 2001, Associated
Press reported that former president Laurent
Gbagbo has been under house arrest in Korhogo and is awaiting
extradition to The Hague to face a war crimes tribunal.
So with all that said, at 1pm with Cherie Bibi in the
front with Sam at the helm, we drove only 5 minutes around the corner from the
hotel to the first stop of the afternoon which was traditional paintings. When we arrived there would have been around
15 children (aged 6-9 years old) all waiting with waves and smiles. Well that soon changed to pure terror when we
got off the truck, and I am not sure if it was us as a group, because we were
white, or because I mock charged them as a joke, and some of the kids were
absolutely terrified, and I think it was just a combination of both. They followed us around the whole time we
were there, with a wary eye, and I think they were just so curious to see us
that they wanted to be near us but also petrified at the same time. By the end of the visit I had high fived some
of them, but the others were all a little gun shy, until we finally set foot
back in the truck and then they were all smiles and waves. Anyway back to the paintings. There were 5-6 scattered bungalow type
structures, made from local wood and palm fronds for the roof, and these were
the studio’s as such, where all the paintings were created. It is an involved process that goes through
many sets of hands to get to the final product.
Before it even gets to the painters it all starts with the weavers who
actually make the canvas, which then passes onto the drawers who draw the pictures
on the fabric and then it passes on to the painters who complete the work with
actual paint, and then gets sold. The
beauty of this circle of many hand’s, is that all the people are from different
tribes, and they all work together. I
wonder how the payment is sorted when the item actually sells? We saw the demonstration of the painting
section. The traditional colors are red,
brown and black and a little like wax art, they treat the material as such as
to when they change the brown paintwork to black, it doesn’t stain the rest of
the painting, it was a little like magic marker the way it changed colour right
in front of us. I should have been
paying more attention to the talk, that Cherie Bibi was giving in French and
Zoe was translating, but the kids were behind me and I couldn’t help winding
them up, until they got in trouble and then I felt bad as I was part to
blame. After the demonstration we were
given some free time to walk around the outdoor studios and peruse the
artwork. When in a situation like this,
I feel I have to at least make a cursory look at everyone work, as I feel bad
if I buy from one guy and not the other and in a perfect world if I could buy
something from them all I would. But I
can’t and not really going in with any intention to buy anything, I saw a wall
hanging that I liked and after asking the price, he told me it was 2500 (5AUD)
I didn’t even bother battering and just bought the piece. Again I pose the question, if that piece goes
through 4 sets of hands, and I am paying 5 bucks for it, how is all that divisible
and sustainable for all the workers?
Getting 1.25AUD each for work they have done, assuming the seller is
also one of the painters and doesn’t get a ‘commission’. Based on that I did see another piece I did
like and after getting that for 4000 (8AUD) I felt I had done my bit in helping
the local community and we all piled into the truck for our next stop.
We drove further around some of the city, stopping at
what is known as ‘carpenters’ corner.
The area is called Koko for short, and is where the now city’s name,
Korhogo came from. Everyone in the
street where we had parked, were carpenters, and had ‘studios’ attached to
their living quarters. There were
children here that welcomed us and behaved very differently here to us than the
first children, and you just wonder why.
They were all smiles and happy to have their photos taken and then they
walked with us and by the end of the walk around their ‘neighborhood’ they were
holding all out hands like we were long lost mates and it was super sweet, as
most of these kids would have been 5 years old and they didn’t ask for a thing
while they were with us, which makes the experience so much more ‘real’. We were introduced to an artisan, and then
taken into his small studio attached to his workshop, which was just a mass of
tools and wood under a verandah of his house.
There were lot of masks hanging on the walls and each one has
significance, and most of them had been used for traditional ceremonies and
then go into the ‘shop’ to be sold. We
were shown a few masks and what they meant and what ceremonies they were used
for. I saw a few masks I liked, but I
did make a deal with (the devil) myself that I had enough of them at home
already and that if I was going to buy something it would be statues instead
and as it was getting a little hot and humid in the small room and we pressed
on back outside and I left the masks where they hung, on the wall. We were walked through another studio and I
saw a mask I just loved, and couldn’t say no to (the devil), so I asked the
price and after a little haggling I got it for 4000 (8AUD) and after a scuttle
for change, we were shown 2 more studios of pretty much the same stuff,
different artisan’s, and with places like this where there are hundreds of
items in rooms and hanging on walls, you really need one to just jump out at
you to be able to make a purchase as they all do start looking the same after a
while and after nearly an hour here, we were bundled back into the truck for
another location and another art form, and with waves to the kids and Cherie
Bibi giving them all hard boiled lollies, which I don’t really agree with’ we
were on our way.
The next place was a long way from town, around 40
minutes, but was worth it when we arrived.
The art was bead making, and of the mud form and not the plastic
form. It was in a small village, and as
soon as we pulled up you could see all the goods on display and it looked like
a candy shop for adults. As everything
in the tropics, it was a building that had the thatched roof and a concrete
wall that went half way up with the rest exposed to the elements. You wonder what sort of walk through traffic
they get here, as they are so far from town, on a road that looked like it was
just used for locals, but Cherie Bibi said that a lot of people come from the
larger towns, like Abidjan and Yamoussoukro buying them wholesale and then
selling them back in the cities, which made perfect sense. We were ushered to some bench seats and
directly in front of us sat 3 men on mats and they had clay, paints and
completed beads in front of them. The
creation of the beads is considered a man’s job that is passed down from
generations, father to son and we were given a demonstration on how the beads
were made and then how some of them were painted. To watch them make the beads from the local
clay found in river beds was fascinating and quite basic, but it is all in the
technique and what would take them not even a minute to roll out a single bead,
would take us at least 20 minutes to get it to the same perfect shape that they
had. The beads are then left in the sun
to dry and then using the husks from rice, are baked. They are then ready to paint, and using hen’s
feathers as their applicators to get the fine lines, they use what look like
satay sticks and their feet. Yep their
feet are the base of where the stick is held and is used to twirl the bead so
fast that they can complete a single bead, with 4 different marks and colours
in less than 5 minutes. It was
enthralling. Once the beads are painted
they are coated with varnish and ready for sale. The patterns used have been around for
hundreds of years and originally the beads were used as a form of dowry, buying
brides as such, then it transgressed to ceremonies and now they have been
modernized and now is an accessory for all.
We were given 20 minutes here to look at the hundreds of necklaces,
matching bracelets, earrings and key rings that were all laid out on tables for
us. Again, like the wood art, there is
so much to choose from, you need something to jump out as you, as you just cannot
buy everything. I settled on a larger
beaded necklace, a smaller one and a key ring all for the grand total of 5500
(11AUD) and was happy with my purchases, even though I wondered if I should
have got more. As they are 100% clay,
they are weighty little things, so that was my deciding factor on just settling
for the 2. As I travel I am also buying
some small gifts for the house mothers back at The Nest, but figured these were
just too heavy and I would get a chance somewhere else to buy some lighter jewelry
to add to my stash for them.
Our last stop for the afternoon was another form of
weaving, but for clothes. From the bead
place this drive was around 15 minutes and when we arrived I was looking
forward to seeing this and also getting some photos. As we have been travelling the last 4 weeks,
I have seen this impressive form of weaving, but never had a chance to have a
proper look. The first thing that
catches your eye is the length of the wool.
From where the ‘loom’ is located the wool is stretched over 100m away,
and as they work that gap closes till they finish that ‘yarn’ and another one
has to be set up. The set up (which we
didn’t see today) is basically someone walking up and back that 100m length
wrapping the wool around a point at each end and when there is enough, the loom
clacks back into action. The shed where
the looms and the wool (100m away) was massive, and there would have been over
20-30 looms all next to each other, which only a handful were in use, as it was
getting late in the afternoon by this time, and then there were another 20-30
located at the other end of the shed with their 100m wool lengths. We observed a few of the workers in mid
‘looming’ and the speed that they weave their thread was lightening and most of
the time they would be looking at us or chatting and didn’t even need to look
all the time at the work. The loom was
primitive in construction from bamboo, which had two pedals, like driving a
car, that worked back and forth to keep the loom moving, but you know what, it
worked, and there was none of this mass production machine stuff here, it is
all done with care and by hand. This
weaving is also considered a man’s job, and each weaver has a family pattern
that is passed down through the generations.
There are 2 types of thread used; one that is locally made and then they
also weave with industrial thread (made by machines). Once they have a finished product, it is the
100m long but the width of a scarf and then it is cut to desired lengths for
various products and then sewn together.
It is very labor intensive and I do like these tours as it gives you an
appreciation into the amount of work and time that goes into making things and
makes you not so ruthless in the bargaining department, as they earn every
penny that you pay for goods that are handmade.
Cherie Bibi has cottoned on that I was a buyer and we were then all
shown into the outdoor ‘shop’ and I was thankful that I didn’t like anything,
as it is all traditional robes, bags, shirts and muumuu’s (dresses) that just
weren’t my style. Ellie, Rich and I were
making a dash for the truck, as we thought we would be leaving soon, when Zoe
called us back and said that we had one more shop to look at, and not wanting
to offend we tracked back to where the tables cloths were hanging and they were
beautiful. As I don’t have a table at
home, I wasn’t even tempted until the ‘sellers’ started to pull some of them
off the rack and open them up and I couldn’t help but think they would look
great as a bed runner and after Ian and Suzanne were looking at something
similar we used the combined buying power and bought one each for 10,500
(21AUD) each and it was worth every franc-to me and to them.
We had agreed as a group yesterday, that we would be happy
to see some local dancing and it had been set up that the dancing was in the
village that we were currently in, so we just had to cross a road after
completing all our purchases and there was a group of 20 men, all dressed in
the same colours, sitting in a single row with their musical instruments in
their hands and drums at their feet.
There were picnic chairs for us sitting across from the bad, around 30m
away, and once seated they started their beats.
There were lot of children around when we arrived, and they were young,
around 3-7 years of age and some of the older children (the 7 year olds) had
babies strapped to their backs and just like everywhere on this continent is
children looking after children and I know it is the done thing here, this how
they help, while their parents are out working and earning food and money for
their family, but really, it does pull some heart strings at times. Anyway, there would have been around 30-40
kids, all around the 5-7 years old and as soon as the music started playing, it
was the Pied Piper and they all just started to dance, exactly to the rhythm of
the beat, exactly, and it was a particular beat, that they knew exactly when to
stop, and then start again. It wasn’t
little kids dancing, they were little people and it looked FANASTIC. They danced in a large circle to the beat for
around 10 minutes and then out came 4 characters, which looked like large rag
dolls, with their faces covered and the kids scattered like mice at the sight
of them and then these guys danced for us for the next 45 minutes. It wasn’t just any ordinary fancy moves; they
were also acrobatic with flips, jumps and all sorts of moves, each one taking
the floor and never any more than one at a time. I was sitting on the end of the seats, so I
had some interaction with the kids as they sat on the sidelines and watched the
show and it is always a telltale sign when you are watching village shows like
this, that when the whole village comes to watch, you know it is not something
that is done every day for the benefit of tourists and this was one of those
times. Over the hour we were there, the
numbers kept growing of the village people coming out to watch and I like that,
the show isn’t just done for our entertainment, but the locals get something
out of it as well.
Just as the show was coming to an end, the weather turned
from hot and humid with the sun in the sky to dark clouds blowing in, to a wind
that started to pick up, so much so that it was blowing dust in our eyes and
then it really picked up and clothes were blowing off lines, and people started
to scatter, all that in the space of around 10 minutes, so it was perfect
timing for us to leave as we made a dash for the truck before the heavens
opened up, as they did 10 minutes later on our way back to the hotel. It was a successful afternoon, especially for
me in the souvenir department and now that I have yet another mask to add to my
collection, I now have bought a mask from the last 3 countries and I will now
continue the trend and buy one from the remaining 6, just so I have a
‘collection’ of West African masks. Call
me a sucker, call me a collector, but whatever you call me-I don’t care and I
can envision all the masks on the last remaining wall of my lounge room that
doesn’t have currently anything on it.
The Wi-Fi had miraculously been fixed when we got back to
the hotel just after 6pm, so I was able to load 4 of my completed blogs and I
was now officially only a day behind, which is great. But I know true to form, I will let that slip
and again I will be behind, but I think that is just the life of a blogger,
especially one without much internet connection and I am just going to have to
be happy with that. Dinner was a quite
affair at the hotel and then I attempted to load some photos, without much
success, so I gave up and was in bed by 10.30pm.
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