Travelling inside the country is good as always but it's been crossing the borders that's been the most interesting recently. My Polish friend, the UN observer who took a good care of me in Monrovia was trying but wasn't able to find out much about the situation on the other side ot the border, in the rebel controlled region of Ivory Coast. So I left Monrovia and headed towards the border, hoping to find out more along the way. I asked the United Nation guys at a checkpoint in the north of the country. But that was a Bangladeshi team and their English seemed to be limited to sentences like: "You married woman?" So I just hitched on, at the backs of overloaded trucks and pickups on dusty, bumpy roads. Finally had to take a motorcycle bush taxi that brought me to the Liberian customs and immigration building by the little bridge in the jungle.
 "Is that Ivorian immigration building there?" - I asked pointing to the other side of the bridge. "Used to be. It's the rebel base now." - they told me. But having got as far as this I had to go on. Rebels, however, turned out to be quite kind, and as there was no other transportation there, they gave me a ride to town in one of their vehicles dashing in a convoy through the jungle.

In the Lonely Planet guidebook to West Africa I read one thing about Ivory Coast that touched me. It says that almost half of world's cocoa comes from here. And... there are estimated about 15 thousand child-slaves working at the plantations around the country. Many of them brought from Burkina Faso and Mali, some lurred with the promise of a paid job, some bought directly from the impoverished parents, others kidnapped as they play on the streets. They receive no money, are hardly fed and regularily beaten, not to mention they'll never have a chance to taste the chocolate which is made from the cocoa they pick. There's even a child-slave market where a child costs about 70 dollars.
I had a spontanneous, maybe crazy idea to find it and buy the most miserably looking child and... I don't know exactly what next, but somehow I would make sure the kid has a better future. The problem is - te guidebook doesn't say where the market is. Ever since I entered the country I was trying to find out, but it seems not to be an easy thing. In the village in the rebel controlled part of the country, near Liberian border, I met two teenage boys, orpahned slave workers, but they didn't speak neither French nor English to share their story. And later, whenever I touched the subject, people caimed no knowledge of the problem, including the local branch of UNICEF. I guess those who are not part of the business wouldn't know, and those who are - wouldn't tell.
I spent a couple of nice days with the locals in the scenically located town of Man in the north, then hitched across the country, arriving yesterday in Abidjan.
For a change, I decided to apply for a legal visa to the next country - Ghana - the process that I consider a waste of time, evenrgy and money. It takes two days, involves two trips to the far away part of town, filling in four identicall detailled forms and supplying four (!) photos plus 30 dollars.
On the brighter side, here in Abidjan I'm hanging around with a Ghanian prince whose father had six whives and 28 children. Normally Muslim men can have four wives but tribal kings are not limited in that respect.
Ivory Coast is lush and fertile, thus abuntant with cheap, tropical fruit. Local street stalls sell good French bread and tasty African dishes. First tropical storms of the rainy season coold down the hot atmosphere and life continues to be good.

Continuing the subject of the last update...
Like I told you, whenever I mentioned child-slaves working at cocoa plantations with regular people, they claimed no knowlege of the subject. They said that it's possible that it exists but they would't be able to neither confirm it for sure or deny.
However, here in Abidjan I'm staying with a local rastaman who turns around different circles, some of them not too official... He's a Ghanian but has been living here for a long time. A simple, hospitable guy who'll do anything for you. Anyway, not counting on much, I just asked him about the child-slave market.
"Yeah, in Abidjan you can buy everything." he said in a matter-of-fact way.
"Can you take me there? Maybe I'd like to buy a child."
"No problem. You have a plantation in Poland?"
It took me a while to explain, because - if not for a plantation, why would I need a child? But when he understood the idea, he started giving different offers:
"I'll give you my boy if you want. For free."
Because he's got two little kids on his own, each one with a different girl, both being brought up by his mother and sisters in Ghana.
"Or you can take my sister's daughter, if you prefer a girl. Or if you want a baby, I have a friend who's a prostitute. I'm sure she'd rather sell you her baby. At least you're not gonna cut his head."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, not believing my ears.
"Because if she sells it to somebody else, they'll cut the baby's head. They make medicine out of baby heads here."
"What kind of medicine?"
"Black magic medicine. For getting rich."

So this is it, the conversation from just a couple of minutes ago. I needed to come to the cyber cafe to share it.
Let's see what tomorrow brings.

The morning after that shocking conversation my rasta friend took me to meet one of his friends on the roof. The thing seemed very straighforward.
"OK, you tell us if you want a boy or a girl, big or small and we'll find somebody who will organize couple of kids for you."
"How will you 'organize' couple of kids?"
"You don't worry about that, sister. We have our ways. We'll feed them well, then you come and choose the one you like." - the guy told me.
"See that woman over there?" he said, pointing to the fat lady in a sarong and a bra at the balcony in the distance, "she can get you a child."
"That woman?" I sasked doubtfully.
"Yes. She's a powerful woman. A cocaine dealer. Deals with children sometimes too."
But needless to say, having a child kidnapped or bought especially for me was the last thing I wanted. I had to explain the whole thing again. And then we came up with a slightly different idea. The guy, also a Ghanian, told me there are so many girls brought here from Ghana, not exatly slaves, but working hard as housemaids in quite miserable conditions. He knows one family with such a girl personally. Now, this coincidenced with Jason, my American friend, a young businessman, telling me by email, that if I find some family or a child that he can sponsor or help in any way, I should let him know. We went together to that family, where in the crowded courtyard young girls were cooking huge pots of food, to be sold later on on the street. And among them, a girl called Akua, around 11 years old (she doesn't know her age). We talked to her landlady. A kind Ghanian woman who turned out to be quite understanding. She said that if it was really to take her back to Ghana and send her to school, then she wouldn't mind if I took her. The girl wasn't of such a great help, anyway.
So I told Jason. And not even getting up from his computer, he sent 150$ through Western Union, to pay the girl's transportation, some new clothes, toys, food, school things, and maybe the first school fees. He says he spent 160$ on a meal in a restaurant with a girl couple of days ago - and she didn't even finish her food! So this money will do more good and go much, much further. He intends to stay in touch and keep supporting Akua financially as long as she attends school, and maybe longer.
So this is it, just brushing against, but not really getting involved in the child slave trafficking market, I'm leaving tomorrow with one happy girl towards her village in Ghana.