Safe Arrival in Ivory Coast

We woke up early on Monday, 3:00AM, to start our trip to Ivory Coast. Leon, Pastor Peter, and I were on the inter-city bus by 3:45, and ready to go, when I realized that we didn't have our video camcorder with us. We made a quick call to the people who drove us to the bus, and discovered that we had left the camera in their car. They sped back to the station while we held our breath that the bus wouldn't leave. All ended well - we retrieved the camera and left for the trip from Kumasi to Cape Coast, and then west to Takoradi, about a 4 hour trip. At Takoradi, we transferred to a smaller bus for the trip to Elubo, where we cross the border.

The border crossing is as grungy a place as you'll ever find. Trucks, buses, cars, people waiting in chaotic lines to go through the customs and immigration process. People selling food and water and belts and perfume (from display racks balanced on their heads) and offering to change your money into strange currencies, and government immigration officials in their smart uniforms giving orders in the chaos, all in sweltering heat and humidity.

I have been dreading entering Ivory Coast -- we had a hard time even getting our visa back in NYC, and later in Accra. Now we waited to go through it all again - they don't make you feel at all welcome.

Surprisingly though, the process of leaving Ghana was far more difficult than entering Ivory Coast. Pastor Georges had sent his driver to meet us at the border. Once we exited Ghana, he picked us up and chauffeured us through the Ivory Coast entry station, which amounted to one young soldier who came over the car, looked through the window, looked at our passports and simply said, "Welcome." That was it; no forms to fill out, no stamping of our passports; we were in. Then the driver took off on the 2 hour drive to Abidjan.

Abidjan is a modern, French-speaking city, built on a river and on the Atlantic, with wide streets and tall buildings in the downtown area. You would think you were in NYC or Chicago.

We arrived at Pastor Georges' church and had a good time of fellowship with him, getting acquainted in his office. His secretary served us water and crackers, grapes and sliced oranges and yogurt. Then we drove to the hotel and on to Pastor Georges' home for an elegant dinner of fish with vegetables over rice and beef vegetable soup. We met his family - his wife Georgelle and two sons and two daughters, ranging in age from 3 to 19 years old.

I have been fearful of this part of our mission trip to West Africa, but once we crossed the bridge over the river border into Cote d'Ivoire, the first day turned out to be a delightful experience. We planned the next few days of ministry with Pastor Georges, and then returned to our hotel, completely exhausted and ready for a good night of sleep.

Pastor Georges and his wife, Georgelle and their youngest son in their home in Abidjan.

Scenes from the window of the bus as we crossed Ghana: