Confession: I have been way too distracted to get this first missive out of me. I also don’t have the computer time or electricity during the day the way I did in Ethiopia. That being said it’s best if I start at the end.
“In The Battle Lost My Gun and My Knife” (Well Not Exactly)
Most recently I burned myself on an excruciatingly hot motorcycle pipe. How did this occur you ask? Well, motorcycles aka motorbikes aka Pin-Pins as they are called here are the mode of transportation after cars. And once you leave the capital there aren’t car taxis just Pin-Pins so you can walk in the hot, hot, hot sun on a dusty, dusty, dusty road or take a Pin-Pin. And I’ve been on a motorcycle probably once prior to here so how would I know that you get on and off on the left side (also a good idea to wear pants which I rarely do here) especially when I haven’t been doing that since I got here. But it also wasn’t as hot as it is now so you could say I had beginner’s luck or maybe dumb luck either way it only takes one burn to get the message.
And while we’re on the subject of personal injury I also managed to scratch my cornea. The ophthalmologist said it’s probably due to how dusty my town is coupled with the fact that I wear contact lenses. I probably scratched the cornea in the process of blinking dirt out of my eye and the friction from the contact lens, dirt particle and blinking ended in a scratch. He prescribed some drops and an ointment I used for like four days and I’m back in the saddle again! Next…
The Daily Liberator (“You Gotta Walk And Don’t Look Back”)
On or about Friday November 19th the subject, winddaughter self-emancipated. After too much (way too much) time attempting to co-exist with the downpressor the subject struck a mighty blow for lovers and seekers of justice world-wide. Basically, I can’t even begin to describe the thangs I been going through with what will heretofore be known as the ex-roommate. It’s a long story but I now live alone on campus amongst the people in a 1-bedroom house with a Cassava patch out back. As you should know I vigorously advocated for my right to unfettered freedom as well as wrote a seven page letter highlighting my grievances. And may all of it become ancient like the pyramids…(but not last nowhere near as long).
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So basically from the minute the wheels of my ride touched the paved road exiting the airport and traveled through the shadows of Oil Palm Trees while locals jetted to and fro roadside fires and night spots I LOVED LIBERIA (it’s African with a twist. I don’t know what all that entails yet but I’ll let you know)! I did wonder how I would feel treading earth so recently visited by war and what remnants I’d encounter. It’s hard for me to imagine another Liberia since this is the only one I’ve known but I try to catch glimpses through the eyes of some Liberians who know…
Pin-Pin (Everybody rides Pin-Pin)
“This Is My House and I Live Here” (and so do THEY)
I live in the country about 75 minutes away from the capital. It feels real rain foresty and Caribbean to me (I’m a lover of both). The place is lush with greenery, lizards, butterflies and all insects in between. There are no hyenas in Liberia! I researched this before I left and also asked the academic dean when I arrived. He didn’t even know what a hyena was (phew).
The bad part about a rain forest (well for me) is that you are on some animals turf all the time and boy are the creators creatures tenacious when it comes to doin’ what they do (read: staying alive and just being plain old bug-gy). Everyone knows I’m not a fan. In Ethiopia it was the dust that was relentless but at least that didn’t have legs , make a home on your ceiling to silently drop down from, dart under a door, jet out of a closet, crawl around late in the night or worse just appear and make you a candidate for a gurney, fresh supply of oxygen and the red strobe light. I feel like all of the world’s creatures (except the hyena) live here. I constantly check for “specks” or “dots” that weren’t on the wall when I was last in the room. Even small tree frogs and lizards come into the house and thus far every Liberian I’ve met swears to me with conviction that they are harmless and have never crawled on a person. As you well know this means nothing to me. (Update: a trustworthy and truth upholding Liberian friend told me that the light beige/albino lizards are poisonous! Yes, I want the truth but I really didn’t need to know that but that’s what happens when you ask for the truth, yuck and eek!
Basically, I only feel safe when I’m under my mosquito net. And speaking of mosquitoes, Malaria is so real here. Several people I know have already had Malaria and it’s common place here. My friend had a scary case of it -apparently if you have any other health conditions Malaria will exacerbate them. She has high blood pressure and her fever from the Malaria coupled with her pressure almost gave her a stroke. When we got to the hospital and they check ed her in and we heard how serious it was I realized how strong she is and what I punk I am. Make no mistake I would have cried, shrieked, bellowed and otherwise acted up all kinds of ways. I just wouldn’t have been able to handle it. She was up, walking around and cracking jokes but it was becoming apparent something was wrong-like I said no brave face over here.
To be honest I rarely go out in my town at night (there’s not really anything to do/if I do go out I have pants and a long sleeve shirt on and have doused my body liberally with repellent.) I also don’t wanna be out at night because I need to be home so I can be type vigilant about protecting the homestead against accidental tourists, non-rent paying moochers and other such undesirables ( flying water bugs (unfortunately I already battled with one/he or she was felled), ’nuff spiders (I am not kidding-I saw one the size of a 5 year old’s hand and that is serious and just lets you know what’s out here on the stroll (read: I don’t like that), beetles, red ants, the infamous lizard and most recently a large field mouse/please don’t make me use the other 3 letter word that starts with an “R” and ends with a “T”).
The Lush Life (view of the campus)
My 9 To 5 (“Got me working, working day and night”)
So, I’m assigned to a rural teacher training institute. My understanding is there are three in the country (the most recent one opened at the end of October) and each one also has an elementary and junior high demonstration school on its campus. That’s super attractive and exciting to me. I think that is a very forward thinking model and lots of good teachers and teaching could happen within that model.
The challenge is that there needs to be more of a connection between the teacher training institute and the demonstration school most glaringly in terms of educational philosophy/theory and practice. So I’m kinda assigned to two schools but I like it and have a lot of autonomy and creative license (you know I like that). The school day at the institute is type rigorous for the teacher trainees: 8-3:40 M-F, tutoring classes 4-6 M-F and Saturday 8-10 am. Then they are either studying, doing homework or attending professional development workshops which the ex-roommate and I are responsible for creating and facilitating.
In the demonstration school they have a split school day due to overcrowding and the war. Students up to 6th grade go to school from 8-1:15 and students up to 9th grade go to school from 1:30 to 6:15 pm. Students who are too old for the demonstration school also go to school during the latter part of the day as part of an accelerated learning program for young and older adults.
In all of the classes I observed students’ ages varied greatly even if it was one grade level. In one 4th grade class some students were as old as 13. So many children and adults missed out on their education during the war and they’re trying to fill that gap now. I’m sure this is a major contributing factor to overcrowded schools in the country. There were 66 students in the 1st grade class I visited and I am told that is a reduction from the previous year as the Ministry called for class size reduction. I should also add that was one of the best lessons and class that I’ve observed since being here. The teacher used small piles of rocks to teach the students subtraction and they were just as attentive and engaged. That teacher has my heart.
The Volunteer Cycle
I realized today as I was unceremoniously dropped into yet another valley that I remembered this whole ‘settling in phase’/the stages of being a volunteer from Ethiopia. I should note that it’s going to be pretty inevitable that I will make some comparisons between Ethiopia and Liberia. That being said they are nothing alike and so far all they really have in common is being African countries.
Okay so back to the stages/cycle of the international volunteer. Like I was saying just when I was having this really productive work day and felt like I was problem solving and facing issues head on I received the news that my side of campus would not have power indefinitely until a specific part for the generator was found and purchased (please don’t ask about this process) . There was zero reason to ask why if the issue was noted this morning at 7am why no one went into the capital during business hours when it was discovered the part was not in the town. I just went home and did a quick but thorough packing and headed to a guest house in town that a friend introduced me to. I just recently moved into my new digs-post liberation from said downpressor (see above) and presently West Africa is still winning (specifically the critter nation) so there’s no way I’ll be in there with no light-that’s just the making of a breakdown (can’t do it to myself…)
Anyway, so back to the volunteer cycle:
Stage One: Ain’t No Mountain High Enough
In a word the volunteer is euphoric, high on whatever orientation they received, having identified with their organization’s mission, vision and charge to go out there and make a difference. This coupled with all the distractions of preparing for the trip along with the support of friends and family the volunteer is sufficiently bolstered. There’s nothing this volunteer can’t do (“Ain’t no mountain high enough…”) and they will share their zest and ‘can do’ attitude with all who will listen. Put me in coach!
Stage Two: I Don’t Think We’re In Kansas Anymore
Still undaunted at this stage the volunteer begins to make some puzzling observations. Hmmm, others don’t seem to share in her/his enthusiasm and general sense of urgency to bring about change. And even more curiouser NO ONE else is alarmed by the pace of things. No one has said it to you yet but this is how things work here but our little tenacious go getter seems to be prepared to go down with the ship.
Stage Three: It’s My Volunteer Experience and I’ll Cry If I Want To (“When I Think Of Home”)
Yup, no doubt about it. You have hit the proverbial volunteer wall and are totally and completely ready for your discharge papers. Maybe it was the lack of electricity, the lack of water, the language barrier, the way simple tasks you used to complete at home in a jiffy turn into vein bulging herculean tasks. Whatever straw broke this camel’s back you are done. You don’t want to eat the local bread/cuisine for one more night, THEY can handle all the details for the special event you spearheaded for tomorrow because everyone can go straight to hell in a hot firey (metal) chariot while you lay down on your not a twin yet not a full size bed with the sheets that don’t quite fit and sob. Why did I come to _______________(fill in blank)?! I miss ______________(fill in blank). Slow fade to black as camera pans out accompanied by sound of muffled sobs.
Stage Four: The Little Engine That Could
So you had your little breakdown or two or twelve and no one else seems to care. You’re showing up everyday, greeting people with the native salutation and it looks like you might be making a bit of headway. Students and staff are knocking on your door, coming to meetings, asking for your input or help with projects. You’re starting to really feel like a part of the local landscape when you head to the market place, haggle over goods, correctly pronounce the names of local dishes, fruits etc. Could things be looking up?! You feel excited again…but this time maybe you won’t move a mountain, that small pile of rocks looks certainly possible. Maybe you DO have something to put into your quarterly report!
Stage Five: I’m So Glad We Had This Time Together
Before you know it you’ve pushed past the halfway point and folks are asking you if you will return for another year. You are no fool-the past is never far behind and you remember clearly the beast that broke you down. You smile and nod and make no commitments. And you start mentally playing in your mind the little life you carved out for yourself. The things you ate for breakfast, your favorite local laundry detergent, the custodian you always chat with at lunch time, your route to your job-your routines. Damn, this place has etched a road into me. Am I gonna stay another year? What work would I do? What challenges would I face the second time around? Mmmmm Vanna I’m not going to spin the wheel. I’m gonna take my winnings/experiences and go home.
Ladies & Gentlemen, I think I’m swinging between stage three & four right now. That’s not so great because I don’t even know what my mood will be. I could leave the house upbeat and refreshed and be highly pissed by lunch time. Hopefully, this will all level out by the end of this month. Anyway, with the exception of the Critter Nation and the heat (I think it gets 2-3 degrees hotter each week/right now is like “winter” so the heat has let up for about two weeks and then apparently it’s going to get so hot I’ll unzip my skin and reunite myself with the long lost summer camp art of skinny dipping. Uh, not looking forward to that. )
Girl On Road ( Headed Back To Campus)
POLITICS
I have no radio or tv and don’t read the newspapers so I get my news word of mouth for the most part (I’m thinking of getting a battery operated radio at least for background noise. Oh yeah and for news too (but not too much I don’t wanna be assaulted with all that). However, I would say the political climate is stable. 2011 is an election year here (right now is voter registration until February 6th and I’ve even seen voting officials come to campus to drive students back into the interior of the country so they can register) and I consider myself lucky to be here at this time to bear witness.
As y’all know Ellen Sirleaf Johnson is Africa’s first woman president and she has brought a lot of stability and international support to Liberia but some think she’s too old to be president, don’t want a woman in the position or disagree with some of her decisions. Regardless, this will be a closely watched election. I think presidential terms are six years here so if she wins again that would be 12 years of peace for the country. I believe she just wants to give the country as much of a strong foundation as possible and then will willingly pass the torch on to a new generation.
Since I’ve been here I’ve been thinking a lot about presidents as public servants and what makes someone even want a job like president. I would never, EVER want to be president not even of the pta. It is such an unenviable post. Where do you even begin when you’re trying to run a country let alone one emerging from a civil war? Everything is a struggle; electricity, water, jobs, overcrowded schools, damaged roads, traumatized people, lawlessness, no tax revenues and the list goes on.
I’ve actually only thought about the damage war does and never really thought about the work of rebuilding and the rebirth. I haven’t seen much of the country yet but from what I have seen Liberians are rebuilding and seem hopeful and anticipatory about the future.
A friend shared a link for a recent article from theroot.com on Liberia and as I read it I wished the writer had captured and spoken more about the rebuilding occurring. I feel like that because if I weren’t here and I read that article I wouldn’t want to come here and right now is an extremely important time in Liberian history because a transformation/rebirth is occurring. And there is a homecoming that has been on-going for some time with Liberians coming back and starting businesses, raising their children on this land and in general working to re-cultivate Liberia. And that spirit and work was missing from the article as well as the numerous Liberians who want to get back home and can’t.
Things I Didn’t Know When I Went To Ethiopia & Didn’t Pack But Did This Time
1. I’m most elated that I bought and packed in my luggage a battery operated fan!!! It also runs on current, is a light weight plastic, has two speeds and is about 14-16 inches. I absolutely love it! (best $16 dollars I EVER spent). UPDATE: The beloved fan was fried when the generator on my side of campus broke down for the SECOND time in a month (apparently this time the battery exploded/I wasn’t on campus). Think I will have to break down and upgrade to a high priced in-country fan with a rechargeable battery before the real heats gets here.
2. LYSOL!!! There was hardly a day that went by that I didn’t wish for some Lysol in Ethiopia. Of course it’s here (as is almost anything you could want but it’s gonna cost you). I had three bottles but when I was forced to play another round of ‘Reduce The Weight Of Your Luggage Or Pay The Piper Girl’ I removed one bottle (and it killed me). I saw the family value size of it here and it cost nearly $17 dollars (yes, that’s in u.s. dollars) and I already know I’m gonna have to buy it. One of my bottles is already feeling a bit light to me. UPDATE: The no-frills version of Lysol is here and costs $1.95 but why did I only buy one? I gotta try and go get three more cans before it’s gone (gulp).
3. Contact Solution. There was no way I was gonna take one of these out of my bag. Trying to find this stuff was like a sojourn to the end of the rainbow for the pot of gold in Ethiopia. Only one store had it and it was like 11 dollars a bottle. This time I packed six full sized bottles and bought a travel size bottle at the airport. for good measure (I still don’t think I have enough). UPDATE: My friend saw some solution for sale in a sunglasses boutique it was over $20 dollars. At least I know it’s here…but I will fight long and hard not to buy no twenty dollar bottle of contact solution (Nonsense).
4. Shoes. If you read my Ethiopia Blog you know my woes. last time I brought 1 pair of flip flops/shower shoes/house shoes and those broke about 5, 6 months in so I brought 3 pairs of those this time as well as 1 pair of closed toe work/walking shoes (I guess), 1 pair sturdy sandals, 2 pair cutesy sandals, rain boots (they get biblical rain here), 1 pair sneakers and yes, the ETHIOPIAN TIRE SANDALS they were one of the first items to go into my luggage. UPDATE: The Mighty & Valiant Tire Sandal is no more. Liberia is type moist and you must fight mold, mildew and critters everyday (every few days I have to spray my luggage with said Lysol inside and out as well as my closet and anything leather/suede because it will mildew and grow mold. So, the nails all rusted in my tire sandals, the straps had a thin layer of mold and I feared tetanus so I ditched them. But it was fun while it lasted and I did get to wear them here a few times before their last tango.)
NOTE: I did not bring enough shoes! I still reflect upon the image of myself as I wearily got into bed in the wee hours of the morning ( the day of my flight), still not totally packed and my bags overweight. I mumbled to my friend that I just didn’t feel good about traveling without one pair of heels. I heavily lament that decision ladies and gentlemen. Lesson: Always Listen to,Respect and Uplift the Diva; she’s been around and knows what to focus on.
Liberian English
Yes, the books all say and you will read that English is spoken here but it’s Liberian English for the most part. That means that often people don’t understand me (sometimes at all) and I don’t understand them (sometimes I get the idea based on context clues and words here and there if I listen closely). But it cracks me up to ask someone in my clearest, most enunciated way for directions etc. and to have them look at me totally crazy because they don’t understand my English.
Liberian English reminds me of Caribbean dialects meets Gullah meets Pidgin meets Liberia. I don’t think I’m going to grow tired of hearing it and I really like to just be in the room and listen to people talk. A few things I’ve learned:
Small as in, “Can I look small?” as in a little bit, briefly, not too much.
Spoiled as in, “The computer spoiled.” or “Don’t spoil my car.”, as in broken/break.
Bright as in, “Oh you mean the bright girl!” as in a person who is light skinned.
Getting Down as in, ” I told him I was not getting down from that car” as in getting out of.
That’s just a smidge but my favorite, favorite thing is how “O” is added on to the ends of words. For example today my friend stated to the young lady who cleans for her, “Dee something burning-o.” Or “Sorry-o.” It’s endlessly fascinating and entertaining for me. More Liberian English next time.
Regarding food, clothes and socializing-love the food (the waist band is tight on a skirt I regularly wear/I’ve just stopped wearing the skirt). I’m eating way too much rice, bread and oil (palm oil too). I’ve been making a work out plan that to date has yet to be launched. (Ahem) Next, the fabric here is very alluring but I’ve yet to purchase any for two reasons. One, I know I’ll just black out and end up having to eat crackers for the rest of the month once I start buying and two, it’s too damn hot and most of that fabric is not thin. But a friend did just give me some nice thin fabric and I’ve got a lead on two places where I’ve been told I can buy thin fabric.
Regardless of the weight of the fabric-Liberian Women dress! Even in the midday Sunday heat on the side of the road with dirt being blown into your face by passing cars they’ll rock an outfit with heels and not look bothered by the heat. They (Liberians) all tell me my resistance to the heat will grow-I think we all know that’s not gonna happen.
Socially, I’ve been to a few events (none literary/artsy yet) and so far I like all of it except one club which was too smokey (I’m anti this smoking where you want nonsense. Once your state etc. has gone all crunk on the smoking piece it’s hard to go places where you can just light up. If I stay here awhile I’m gonna lobby for a smoking ban in restaurants, clubs etc. I don’t even know if I have those kinda rights here but I’ll find out.
First Female Vice Chancellor (Cape Coast, Ghana) Prof. Naana Jane Opoku Ageymang (2nd from left)
On a final note-these might really be my people for this one glaring commonality: Liberians hate inclement weather (specifically rain) just as much as I do. Actually, you could say they fear rain-let there be a sign of rain and oh, watch the people scatter (but they are fearless and will go toe to toe with four lanes of traffic going 60 miles per hour). If it has rained and you show up late or not at all-you won’t even be questioned because everyone else has been opting out of their scheduled activities too due to rain. I can’t tell you how much I whole heartedly and emphatically support this. When I first witnessed this I said YES! and metaphorically slapped the desk for emphasis. Finally, someone understands-there needs to be a complete and total work stoppage when it rains (it can be optional for you die hards) and that should be an unquestioned proclamation! These might really be my people…
waiting for mango season,
p.s. Met the president on Monday December 27th! I just knew I was gonna meet her when I came here. She’s tiny, very direct, articulate and you can see she don’t play. And no I didn’t have my camera/it’s slowly dying and I don’t want to accept that. Thinking I’ll have to buy one online and get it shipped here (fingers crossed regarding mail, shipping etc. so far I’ve avoided this and gotten lots of mixed info on the status of mailing things here). This would also be the reason for grainy and meager photos…
brooklyn~pueda 