More important, once when my little 8-year-old son was separated momentarily from the rest of the family during a shopping spree in Abidjan, and found himself lost, he was able to take a taxi to where the family’s host worked — a huge international bank– and get him to come down, while the taxi driver waited patiently! Not a hair on his young head was harmed, and he did it all without being able to speak a word of French.
I’ve often wondered, in retrospective terror, how the taxi driver had the goodness of heart not to worry about getting paid?
That was the wonderful country that Cote d’Ivoire that was. Its people were generally friendly and open; and its ability to attract tourists was unbeatable.