Like much of West Africa, Ivory coast is 50% Muslim, 50% Christian and 100% animist. Praying at church or in the mosque does not stop people from worshipping the animist Gods. Mother earth. Fetishes are common place and to the uninitiated often look like a pile of rubbish crowned with animal skulls. The market sells animal skulls, skins and shells. A hot and dusty version of a Chinese medicine shop. The Senufo cut the hair of the recently departed and stick it to bas reliefs on their houses. The resulting image leaves little to the imagination.
Every tribe has a calendar of dances. Initiation and purification, for funerals and good harvests. Every important milestone in life is marked by a dance. Plus some for pure entertainment. Whatever the reason, the dance is full of energy and colour.
Feet move at a rate you would not believe was possible. Hundreds of movements a minute and all in time to the beat of the drums. Some manage only a few minutes whilst others seem to go on forever. Not only entertainment, this is a better work out than the gym.
The whole community comes together. The village chief presides. The young men play drums, (literal) horns and calabash percussion. The elders (and the three tourists) relax on plastic chairs. The children gather on their way home from school. They can’t help but join in, bouncing to the chaotic rhythm. Learning the steps they will one day perform.
Senufo initiation lasts 21 years in total so they start young. The young boys and girls channel the spirit of the panther. Dressed in sacking costumes with only small slits for eyes, they perform amazing acrobatics. Somersaulting as if they were in the circus. The older virgin girls are debuted to more percussion and a whip-cracking fire-walker.
The sacred forest is an important location in every tribal village. Conjuring up Tolkien-esque images, it is usually little more than a clump of trees. In Guéré villages the mask goes round the village collecting the bad energy before taking it back to the sacred forest. Great excitement follows it around the village, sound travelling faster than sight. At the entrance to the village the men serenade the mask with rhythmic stick thumping to encourage thorough purification.
My inspiration for the trip to Ivory Coast was Les Jongleurs. Another acrobatic performance, but not one you would ever see at the circus. These are not balls he is juggling. The young painted girls move on the spot, awaiting their turn to perform with the circus master. He throws them up into the air, tossing them above sharpened knives. He swings them around, their heads passing just centimetres from a very solid-looking rock. I can hardly bear to watch…and yet I can’t help but watch their precision-perfect moves. This is not for the faint-hearted.
The Dozo are not a tribe in the traditional sense. They are a self-proclaimed tribe. Made up of men from the Malinké, they police the local community. A tribe of do-gooding mercenaries. Once initiated they maintain law and order, protecting villages and in this age of Islamist terrorism in the Sahel, acting as border guards.
For now that threat remains on the other side of the border. Political stability is fragile but enduring. In a country that has been torn apart through civil war, traditions endure. Tribal culture ties communities together and brings them hope for a better future.