Pre-election Craziness

United Nations helicopters are currently circling the area around my apartment.

My apartment is five minutes from the Congress for Democratic Change (CDC) headquarters. They have been alleging fraud in the first round of elections (held October 11) ever since it was clear they didn’t win. Last week they decided to boycott the runoff elections scheduled for tomorrow, November 8.

In Liberia, no campaigning is allowed the day before elections; it is a day of rest and reflection before voting. The CDC decided to disregard this and hold a rally anyway. The LNP (Liberian National Police) informed them this would not be permitted. They went ahead held the rally. Reports of the numbers in attendance vary from hundreds to thousands, but apparently they tried to block off the road and the riot police and UN were called in. Tear gas was used. Shots were fired. At least one person is dead; several others are wounded.

It was crazy because about an hour before I was in the car with some friends from the office and we were on the way back there, driving on the main road – the road that also leads to the CDC HQ. While stuck in traffic, we saw masses of people heading in the direction of the CDC. We also saw 4 police trucks zoom by – one almost swiped us. We felt trouble was brewing.  

When we got back to the office, we heard that shots were being fired near the CDC headquarters. We decided to close the office early. Since I live five minutes away from the CDC and several of my work colleagues also live in that direction, we had to go that way to go home. On the way, four UN tanks and a few police trucks transporting police with guns (most Liberian police don’t have guns – no money for them) passed us, and all the stores were closed. There is a big open air market near my apartment. It was empty! I’ve never seen it empty. All the shops were closed, some with handwritten signs saying “Will Open on Wednesday.” Some people sell their goods out of wheelbarrows on the side of the road – they were all gone.

Now I’m sitting in my apartment, seeing a helicopter pass by about every 5 minutes. I wonder what will happen tomorrow.  I know I’m an American who can’t fully appreciate all the nuances of the situation and my opinion matters little, but I feel really disappointed with the CDC. So they didn’t win this time, try again next time. They need to have a bigger vision. I wish they would understand that their actions jeopardize Liberia’s future. Peaceful elections will help their society heal from the wounds caused by the 14 years of civil war and encourage foreign investment and development. Liberia needs that.

The CDC contested the last presidential elections in 2005, but after a while they accepted the results and there was peace. If you pray, join me in praying for peace in these elections too. 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today is Thanksgiving Day in Liberia! Since I’ll be working on American Thanksgiving Day, I figured I would take this time to list a few things I’m thankful for this year.

I’m thankful to be in Liberia. I’ve been here almost a year already! I’m thankful for this experience, my job, my chance to learn more about Liberia and West Africa, the lessons I’ve learned about development work in the field, the people I’ve met, the friendships I’ve made. Not gonna lie - it’s been a difficult year. Work has been stressful at times. My health has not been great. I miss my family, boyfriend and friends and the comforts of America. Through all those things - both good and bad, I have really been amazed by God’s love and care for me here.

I am SO THANKFUL for peaceful elections in the first round of elections last month. They were the second elections since the end of the war, and after so many years of war, many people were afraid that the elections might serve as an opportunity for people to fall into old habits. It was kind of crazy in the weeks leading up to the election. At work we had to develop contingency plans in case of an outbreak of violence. We had to think about evacuation strategies for our international staff, should it come to that. I’m not sure of the numbers, but I know that hundreds of people left Liberia out of the fear of what might happen. People (myself included) were stockpiling food like they were preparing for a natural disaster. A few buildings were burned down and a few fights broke out, but overall, things were peaceful. I’m praying the peace continues while the voting takes place and the votes are tallied this month.

I know I have complained about my apartment and all its problems when I first came, but it’s grown on me. I’m thankful for my it. It’s a really nice apartment for Liberia, and I’ve had some good times here. I’m thankful that it has electricity 16 hours a day. I’m thankful that it has running water most of the time – around 90% of the homes in Liberia don’t. I’m thankful that I have been safe there. And I am thankful that I don’t see as many bugs as I used to – still more than I’d like, but less than before J

Every year I’m thankful for food. Those of you who know me well know I love to eat! This year though, my thankfulness for food has taken on a new dimension because I’m living in a country where many people only eat one meal a day. Daily I see small children with protruding bellies, a telltale sign of malnutrition, happily playing in the dirt. I don’t want to paint the wrong picture. There are thousands of healthy, clean, well-nourished children here, but for every one of them, there is at least one who does not get enough food. I’m thankful that I have enough food to eat.

I could write a book on all the things I’m thankful for, but those are just a few. Happy Thanksgiving!

A Name and a Gift

This story happened during my hiatus from blogging, but it’s a good one, so I’ll share it now.  A few months ago, I was visiting some of the communities we are doing our program in that I had not been to yet. Some of them are hard to reach because the roads are really bad and they have never had an NGO work with them before. In each community in which we work, we have started a farmers association, and the community I was visiting that day had a farmers’ association composed of only women.  There are 4 other farmers associations in the area but their villages are inaccessible to vehicles, so representatives came to meet us. The women knew we were coming and they prepared a whole welcoming program. They made speeches, had singing and dancing, walked us out to one of their farms and then we returned for the close of the ceremony and lunch.

When we got back to the palava hut, I noticed that one of the women was holding a chicken. I leaned over to my boss and told him, “It looks like you’re getting a chicken.” “What?” he asked. I motioned towards the woman and said “I think you’re getting a chicken.” We both chuckled about it.

Imagine my surprise when a few minutes later, the interpreter (not all of the people speak English, especially outside of Monrovia) called me to the center of the palava hut. The women wanted to thank me for being a mother among the men (the colleagues I was with were all male). They then gave me a Liberian name, Daconte, a biblical name, they explained, which means everything in its time. They felt that this was the right time for the program to come to them and for me to be among them. It was a beautiful moment. Then, one of the women stepped up to give me a gift - the chicken with flapping wings and tied beak and feet.

I was thinking, “Oh, Lord! What do I do?!” But I smiled, took the chicken, holding it as she had, and thanked her. She then plucked one of the feathers from the chicken and stuck it in my hair and we posed for pictures. I whispered to one of our field staff, “What do I do??” He said I should give a thank you speech, so I did. Afterwards, the leader of the association told me, “Daconte, you can take that chicken home and cook it for your husband!”

I just smiled a big smile and said “Thank you!” I didn’t want to tell her I’m not married  - I have had that conversation many times – but that’s a post for another day. 

Quality Time in the Pickup Truck

Last Saturday I was on my way back from our field offices, 185 miles away. If the roads were paved all the way, it would take 3 or 4 hours. They aren’t though, so instead, in dry season, it takes 10 hours. Now that we have been in rainy season for months, the dirt roads have turned to mud. That means we have to go slower – driving in mud is like driving in snow. Plus, large trucks with heavy loads get stuck daily and block the way for everyone for hours. This last trip back from the county office took 16 HOURS.

A little before 8:00 we left the guesthouse where we were staying, happy to see it wasn’t raining. A colleague told us, “God is smiling on you.” The first few hours of the trip were bumpy but good, and then we came to a standstill. There were so many cars stopped that we couldn’t see the cause of the delay. People had gotten out of their cars and were sitting outside and walking up and down the road. The driver got out to see what the problem was. Sure enough, a large truck was stuck in the mud. We waited an hour. The truck was able to be pushed over enough for cars to pass. We didn’t even drive 5 minutes when there was another standstill. Two large trucks were stuck in opposing sides of traffic. There was a pretty steep mudbank on the side of the road, but the driver decided to go for it. He drove the pickup off to the right, trying to climb the mudbank – and didn’t make it. He tried again, the wheels started spinning. Some men from the nearby village came to help push him. They tried but couldn’t get the car out. A Bangladeshi man watching from the UN truck next to us shook his head and wagged his finger “no” at us.

It was a crazy scene. There were about 10 men yelling directions. “Go de!”, “Stop!”, “Go, go, go!” Finally one took the lead, told me and my colleague to get out of the car, told the driver to go back and then try again with the 10 men pushing him. They did it! They were covered in mud – I felt bad for them. We thanked them, paid them a little something, and were on our way.

We weren’t even halfway at that point. When we reached the half-way point, my colleague suggested we stop for lunch. I didn’t want to eat anything because I don’t really love the food in that town. I did however, stop at the one gas station that has a bathroom (yes, there is only one bathroom along the 10-12 hour route).After a half hour, food, gas, bathroom break, we were on our way. We reached Monrovia a little before 8:00 p.m. I was so glad! I couldn’t wait to drive the 15 minutes to my apartment, drink some water, eat some food and take a shower. We dropped off my colleague and the driver and I continued to our area. We live on the same road. Unfortunately, two minutes later, traffic came to a halt.

The cars in both directions were completely stopped. The driver got out to see what was happening. Presidential elections are next month, and the president’s party, the Unity Party, had kicked off their campaign that day. For the next 4 HOURS we inched our way along the route that should have taken 15 minutes. I got to my apartment around midnight. There is only one road that goes through the city so we all just drove, stopped, parked, drove small, stopped, parked for 4 hours.

Unfortunate. 16 HOURS later, I finally arrived in my apartment. I thanked God, went to turn on my water for the shower and nothing came out – there was no water. Oh, Liberia…Not my favorite day.

Thank God

One of my favorite things about Liberia is a small thing that happens every day. In the morning when you see someone you usually ask, “How are you?”, “How was the night” or “How de body?” The usual reply is “Fine”, “Yeah” or “Thank God.”

I love that last one!

The first time I heard someone say it I was like, “What?” The man said, “Oh, thank God for what he has done for us. We made it safely through the night.” I smiled, nodded in agreement and said, “Yes, thank God. We did.”

I’m not sure if it started during the 14 years of civil war that plunged everyday life into chaos or if people were saying it before then, but I like it. Both Muslims and Christians say it - it's great! Since coming to Liberia, I have found that I wake up with a new level of thankfulness. My bed is REALLY uncomfortable. The power goes out in the middle of the night and the a/c goes off. Sometimes I wake up with random bug bites.  During rainy season, the roof leaks sometimes. 

Every night when I have dinner, I thank God – not everyone here does. When I have had a good night’s sleep, I thank God. When I wake up in a comfortable temperature in my own apartment, safe and sound, with no bug bites and no new water stains on my ceiling, I thank God. 

Thank God for all he has done for us.  J

The Bathroom

I’ve always had a thing for bathrooms. I LOVE nice bathrooms and if at all possible try to avoid not-so-nice ones. I remember once when I was in sixth grade my mom took me on a trip with her (she’s a flight attendant) and we spent a few days in Germany. We visited some castles and to this day, one of the things that sticks out most was a white marble bathroom with gold fixtures. I still remember excitedly telling my mom, “Mommy! Take a picture of me next to this toilet!” 

Fast forward a few years. During undergrad, I was in Egypt in the Sinai Desert and there were no bathrooms. Being the lover of bathrooms that I was, I just didn’t go to the bathroom - for over 12 hours... (ha – my insides hurt for another 12 hours after I finally did get to a toilet. Lesson learned there. That’s another story.) It took a couple years though, when I was in the mountains of Colorado, before I gave in to the fact that you can go to the bathroom without a toilet.

The bathroom situation in Liberia is an interesting one. Running water is a luxury here and not all places have toilets. And, even if they do, there’s a good chance that they don’t have running water. Many places (restaurants, offices, government buildings, hotels/guesthouses outside of Monrovia, the capital city) have a large trash can full of water and a small bucket so you are able to “manually” flush the toilet yourself by pouring water into the toilet. I remember when I first was preparing to fly out of Liberia’s airport when I was going to Senegal, I went online to find out about their check-in procedures (and to see if they mentioned anything about bathrooms so I would know how much water to drink that day). On one of the airport’s information pages they proudly proclaimed “We have toilets!” and I was like, “YES!!! Thank you, God!”

About a month ago when I was going to America for leave, I flew from Monrovia to Accra, Accra to Atlanta, Atlanta to Philadelphia. I had two hours in Atlanta – a really tight connection, especially since you have to pick up your checked bags, clear customs, recheck your bags and go through security again. After I cleared security, I wasn’t sure what time it was, but I was worried it was close. After I went through the metal detector, I just grabbed my bags, laptop and toiletries, threw on my flip-flops and speed walked to the gate. (I’m sure I looked awesome, especially after spending 15+ hours on a plane coming over the Atlantic.) When I got to the gate I asked the agent if the flight had started boarding yet. It hadn’t - I had 15 minutes! Whew! Thank God! I had time to go to the bathroom! Coffee and water on the flight + no chance to use the restroom since I got off the plane = my bladder feeling like it was going to explode.

This is the moment I wanted to tell you about. Now I realize, some of you won’t be touched at all, but this was one of the best moments of my journey to America. So I walked to the bathroom, and as soon as I turned the corner I let out an involuntary “Oh my gosh!” Some people looked at me questioningly, and I motioned that I was fine. I was just struck by the beauty of the bathroom! There were full length mirrors, nice lighting, at least 6 sinks and at least 12 stalls. And it just got better inside the stall!

Once I wrestled my suitcase and over-the-shoulder bag inside and locked the door I was happy to see a relatively clean toilet, toilet paper AND toilet seat guards. Not only that, but the toilet had water and flushed. Not only that, but it was an environmentally friendly, automatic flushing toilet! And, there were no bugs in there! At the sink, both soap and water flowed automatically when I put my hands close to their respective sensors! The paper towels were automatically dispensed too! I almost took a picture, but I knew people would judge me. That was the moment when I said to myself, "Welcome back to America." 

I’m Back

Hey Everyone. I realize I haven’t blogged in a few months. Work got crazy. I had some health problems from the medication I was taking to prevent malaria. And I think the biggest reason is because it felt kind of awkward. I started the blog so people in America could know what my experiences were like in Liberia. But, after being here for a few months, I made some Liberian friends and we’re friends on facebook, which means they can see my blog too. It felt weird to me – kind of like if you were telling a close friend something that happened to you and then an acquaintance walked up and started listening. You might not mind that they’re listening, but maybe you wouldn’t have told them the story or if you had, you would have shared it differently. I wasn’t really sure how to deal with this, but have decided that I’m sticking with the original intention – to let people back in the US know what it’s like for me as an American to live and work in Liberia, my experiences, perceptions and feelings. Plus, the sharing of backgrounds and personal stories is one way acquaintances get to be friends. 


I have found that a lot of the Liberians I talk to are interested in what my life is like in the States and what I think about their country. Part of me was worried about what people would think about what I think about living here. But then I remember how whenever I have friends from other countries and they, sometimes shyly, sometimes brazenly, sometimes excitedly, sometimes angrily, tell me how they feel about my country and the experiences they've had there, I'm always interested to hear what they have to say. Now I find myself in their position. So here we go! I'm putting my life out there again!

Home Sweet Home

A few days ago I saw two men carrying the broken refrigerator that had been in my apartment when I first moved in out of an apartment down the hall. I chuckled to myself when I remembered all the drama that was waiting for me when I moved into the place I’m in now.

A little over a month ago I moved from the studio apartment I was in to a one bedroom next door. I figured I would need more than one room once the rainy season picks up and it rains every day for months. (Liberia’s rainy season is from May –November/December.) I would have moved into the one bedroom right away, but they were all taken so I moved into the studio so I wouldn’t have to stay in a hotel and would at least be able to cook my own meals. The studio was fine, no big complaints. This one bedroom! Oh my goodness! I can’t believe they’re in the same building, let along right next to each other.

It was dirty. There were cobwebs everywhere. The refrigerator didn’t work. Only one of four burners on the stove worked. Two of the windows were bent off the track. It had an interesting smell to it. There were small holes in the ceiling. And to top it all off, there were roaches in the kitchen cupboards. It also runs out of water at least once a week.

I moved into the apartment two days before I left for Senegal, so I didn’t have too much time to deal with these things. I told the manager before I left and he said, “Ok, madam. Sorry, madam. By the time you come back from your trip it will all be taken care of.” Great.

I came back - none of it was. The only thing they had done was to put another refrigerator - that didn’t work very well - into my apartment, so now there were two. I went to see the manager and asked “What happened? These things were supposed to be fixed. I need you to come upstairs and see all of the problems.” He reluctantly did and when he saw them, said “Oh my God. We will take care of all of this tomorrow.” This was a Tuesday. I have learned that “tomorrow” to Liberians does not mean the same thing that it does to Americans, so I was hoping that by Friday everything could be done. HA – no, it took almost three weeks of daily visits to the manager before everything was taken care of.

The next day they had a crew clean the apartment and they sprayed for bugs. They also took out the broken refrigerator.  A few days later they wedged some pieces of bed sheets into the window frames to keep the windows on track…  (yeah, I don’t know that I understand this one. We’ll see how they hold up.) I bought some roach poison huts and put them around the kitchen. The next few days there were bugs dying all over the place, but now things are better in that department. At first the manager tried to assure me that the holes in the ceiling were no problem, I shouldn’t worry about them. They just made them to drain the water tank when they had problems with it but it was fixed now. As comforting as that was,  I insisted they seal them. Who knows what will happen in rainy season? I’d prefer that water not have a ready-made entrance into my living room.  He finally had the repairman come.

The final thing was the smell. The remedy came when I went to a grocery store I hadn’t been to yet and saw Febreeze!! It cost $11 but I didn’t care. I sprayed my apartment and it was WONDERFUL!!! It was the first time when I walked into my apartment and sighed, “Ahhh. Home.”

This past week there were a few upsetting things that happened. (In both work and life - not gonna go there now.) By Saturday I felt downtrodden and WORN OUT.  In the afternoon I realized I needed to go get some more credit for my phone. (All phones here are pay as you go. You buy cards that have a code you scratch out, you text the code and get however many minutes you paid for.)  An interesting thing happened on my walk to the scratch card cart.

I left my apartment and walked down the dirt road. I passed some chickens and a rooster on my right. There were two men on my left, one was giving the other a shape up in the front yard next to clothes laying on the grass, drying in the sun. A little further down I passed an adult man practicing his reading aloud. A group of children ran in front of me, playing and yelling to each other. As I walked down the road I felt comforted. I realized that Liberia is starting to feel like home to me.

You know how when you move to a new place, part of you can’t relax there, part of you is always on guard against the unknown? But then, after you’ve been there a while, you feel more at ease, your muscles relax and you feel comfortable. I think I have reached that place here. I definitely still have days when I think, “Ohhh! America! I miss you!” But three months in, I am happy to report that I am feeling comfortable here now. I'm not phased when the electricity randomly cuts off. Instead of freaking out when there's a bug in my apartment, I just kill it. I still won't drive here, but Liberian driving does not concern me like it used to. I have become accustomed to the unpaved roads and PSA billboards that explain how to avoid contracting diarrhea, malaria and HIV. When I first came all of those things left me in a little wide-eyed and speechless, but now I'm all right. And walking down the dirt roads of my neighborhood, past the children and chickens comforts me. 

Family Reunion

This morning I woke up and felt a little sad.  I wished that I could be going to church and celebrating Resurrection Sunday with my family in America. But then, as I sat and drank my morning tea, I realized how blessed I am. Some friends had offered to take me to their church, and I thought about how remarkable it is that even though I am an ocean away from my family, I can still celebrate Jesus with the family of God. How beautiful is that! In some ways it reminded me of a family reunion.

My extended family on both my mom and dad’s side is very large, and whenever we have family reunions, I always meet people I never knew before. When we meet, we get each other’s names - possibly hug - get a little bit of the other’s story, and there is a connection there because of our family tree. It is the same way with followers of Christ. In the Gospel of John, John talks about all who believe in Jesus being given the right to become children of God. All throughout the New Testament, the writers admonish their readers as brothers and sisters in the Lord – we are a family.

Yes, it’s true that clashes within Christianity have caused some of the most enduring, violent conflicts. But it is also true that there can be tremendous love and goodwill shown by Christians, and sometimes, meeting another Christian can be a bit like a family reunion. It has happened more than once since I have come to Liberia, that I will meet someone and when we find out the other is a Christian, we share moments of joy in the recognition that the other is a part of the family. It really feels just like meeting a cousin you didn’t know you had. Sometimes it is the beginning of a friendship; sometimes you both know you won't see each other again for a good long time. Whatever the case, it warms your heart. 

I went to church on Good Friday and today, Easter Sunday. There were some things that were different and some that were familiar.  It is so beautiful to me that people all over the world took time out to remember Jesus’ sacrifice for humanity and the price he paid to bring us into His family. It also makes me wonder what would happen if we thought about this a little more, if we as Christians thought of ourselves as family instead of individual Christians and individual churches focusing on their own growth, if we didn’t let denominational divides stop us from working together towards shining God’s light and building His Kingdom on Earth. I've thought about this some before, but I plan to think more about this issue and what my role might be in it. For now I will just say, that today I was especially thankful that Jesus died so that I might live and be welcomed into the family of God. And I am thankful that I have family members all around the world :)

Second Wife

At first I wasn’t going to share this story, but it is so crazy and random – I have to do it.

A few days ago, I was at work. I was sitting in my office preparing for a conference call later that afternoon. My boss called me and said, “Are you in your office? I have some visitors I'm sending down to you.” A few minutes later an older Liberian man and a younger Liberian man came into my office. I shook their hands and motioned for them to sit down. The older one, in his 60s I’d say, walked with a limp and was very rambunctious. He explained to me that he had recently returned from the States and knew the CEO of my organization. He then proceeded to tell me a half hour of stories.

Apparently he knew the founder of my NGO in the 1960s and 70s. He told me that he started branches of the organization in Chicago and Florida for him. He also told me how he went to college in Europe and then when he came to America, went to Alabama and didn't like it because blacks and whites had separate everything, but in Europe you could do what you wanted. He also told me how he sued 3 cities in Florida because when he worked for city government they refused to put him in leadership positions. He finally made it to management and they sent a beautiful white woman to his office to try and trap him. Through conversation she revealed she wanted to make love to him. He said, wow, hold on a second. He then called in all of his staff and told them, “This woman wants to make love to me. This office believes in participatory decision making - what do you all think?” He had a mixed race staff but everyone was upset and opposed to the idea. The woman left in a hurry and he didn’t have any more trouble. He also told me how during the war he refused to leave Liberia, but afterwards he had to leave for surgery because he's diabetic and had complications in Liberia that they couldn't deal with. In Liberia, they wanted to amputate his foot, but in America, they did a lot of scrapings of his leg and his foot was saved. All of this had cuss words sprinkled liberally throughout. (I censored for your benefit.)
 
These were definitely interesting stories and he was an interesting character, but I had a conference call to prepare for and work to do. While he was talking I kept wondering, “How am I going to get this man out of my office?” When a break in the stories came, I said "Wow, you've had quite a life." He said two things make for an interesting life - a good wife and a good job. And then he got ready to leave. GREAT.

He wanted to give me his number. The younger man who hadn't said a word wrote it down for me. I gave him my card. THEN, he asked, do you know __ ___ (I can't remember the guy's name.) I said “No...” He said, “No?? He said you were at his place on ____ Street last week.” And I remembered, “Oh!! He sells gari processing machines. Yes, I met him last week.” Then the man said to me, "He told me that they have a new woman, an American, working here who is fine! I don't know if you're looking for a second wife, but you should go see her."
 
WHAT?!?!?! WHAT?!? One, I can't believe the man told him that! Two, I can't believe he would TELL ME the man told him that! Three, I can't believe he actually did it!!! Later I went to my boss’s office and asked, "Who was that man you sent down to me???" He answered, "I don't know. He said he knew you. I thought maybe you knew him from the States."

Never a dull moment…

Fast and Prayer Day

Today is a national holiday in Liberia, Fast and Prayer Day!

Here’s a little bit about it taken from an online encyclopedia: Liberians reserve Fast and Prayer Day for collective reflection and self-discipline. The observance of the day is not mandatory since the constitution provides for freedom of religion. Nonetheless, many believe this national observance is in keeping with the spiritual convictions of Liberia's founding fathers. As President W. V. S. Tubman stated in an address commemorating a national fast, the country was established on a "deep and well-founded belief and trust in God through prayer." The day historically has been observed by Christians, as Liberian Muslims more commonly dedicate the Islamic month of Ramadan to fasting and prayer. While officially the observance spans only 24 hours, the time of fasting and prayer can extend to an entire week.

How crazy is that?! A day sanctioned by the government for fasting and prayer! A lot of people don’t observe it and just use it as an extra day off, but many people do. In my neighborhood, churches have been having services every night, all week long. The bigger churches even had calls for week-long fasting and prayer on the radio for a few weeks leading up to it.

At first I wasn’t sure if I was going to participate or not. I’ve ended up working most of the Liberian holidays, and I hoped I could stay home and relax through this one. But then I thought, how often do you get to join a nation in prayer and fasting? I had to do it. And anyway, I haven’t fasted since I came to Liberia, and I feel like fasting is so beneficial!

For me, it serves as a reminder of my need for God in everyday life. Those of you that know me well know that when I have been hungry for hours, I’m not really so great of a person to be around. I’m more blunt, not as patient, not as friendly or forgiving. I don’t think as clearly. In the same way, without regular time with God, I’m not as great of a person to be around. I’m not as loving, patient, forgiving or understanding. I can try and do things on my own, but when I consult God, he gives me brilliant ideas, helps me see things I might have missed and gives me strategies for accomplishing tasks. Food sustains me and makes me stronger, but that is nothing compared to the sustenance and strength I get from God.

I still ended up working for a few hours today, but it’s been good to take some extended time out and spend it humbling myself before God. I like this holiday J

Bugs

I’ve been here two months now and there is one thing I can DEFINITELY say I DO NOT like about Liberia – the bugs. I feel like there are bugs everywhere! They’re in my apartment, the office, the grocery store, restaurants and of course, outside. They are in all sizes. Some I’ve seen before, others I can kind of guess what family they belong to and others I have never seen before in my life! It’s not that there are hoards of them, just more than I’m used to seeing.

My first introduction to the bugs in Liberia was my first night here when there were ants in my bed. I remember sharing that story with some of my co-workers. They were not phased and told me, “This is Africa.”

A few weeks ago I saw the biggest spider I have ever seen in my life – it was the size of my hand – literally. It was up in the corner of the office. In the opposite corner was another smaller one that was still bigger than any spider I’ve ever seen indoors.  I didn’t want to flip out or anything, and I hoped that one of my co-workers would see it and do something about it. People have a lot of stereotypes about Americans and I didn’t want to fall into the scared of bugs one if I could help it. A few hours passed and no one said anything about them. Finally I called one of my co-workers. His name is Oscar. I said, “Oscar, can you come here for a minute?” He came and I nonchalantly asked him, “Can you tell me, what is that?” He said, “oh, that’s just a small spider.” I was a little shocked by this - “a SMALL spider??? That’s a small spider?” He laughed and answered, “Yes, it’s small. They can get much bigger than that.” Then he called the driver, and asked him “What is that?” The driver said “Oh, it’s just a spider. I can get someone to kill it.” “Is it really a small one?” I asked. “Oh yes,” he replied. “They can be bigger.” And he went to get the janitor. I again, still processing that this was a SMALL spider wanted to know, “what kind is it?” Oscar said, “Oh… I don’t know. But don’t worry. These kind aren’t too harmful.” And then he went back to his office. I went back to my office too, not finding too much comfort in knowing that these small spiders are not too harmful…I have since seen them from time to time. I just hope I don’t find one sitting on top of my laptop bag or my desk one day. I’m trying to be braver about bugs but I don’t know how courageous I’ll be in that moment!

I moved into a new apartment 2 weeks ago, but then almost immediately after had to go to Dakar, Senegal for a workshop. The day before I left I started cleaning it. (This apartment has a lot of issues and there was much cleaning to be done.)  There were quite a few very small spiders and cobwebs in it. I sprayed some bug killing spray – more on this later – and swept away most of the cobwebs. In the kitchen cupboards, I saw a lot of small black things – very small black things, about the size of sesame seeds but thinner. I wondered if they were droppings of a large bug, but I wasn’t seeing any dead bugs which I figured I would if they were still living there. I thought that maybe in the past there had been bugs but they were gone now. I cleaned half of the cabinets (I didn’t have time to do them all), sprayed bug spray, put my food in a box and left for Senegal. When I returned, I found that the black things had too.

I went downstairs to get the manager.  I wanted to see if he could add some clarity and to see what they would do about it. He came, said “Oh, you have a bug. We will clean and spray tomorrow.”  The next day they did clean and spray and I assume clean again because there were no dead bugs when I came home. The day after that, there were dead bugs – mostly small ones on the kitchen counter. The next day there were some more and when I opened the cupboard, there was a VERY LARGE dead cockroach. I immediately shut the cupboard door. I took a deep breath, opened the door again and there it was. It was one of the inches long ones and I couldn’t bring myself to touch it. I knew the people would be coming to clean my apartment in 2 days, so I felt like I could leave it for them. It wasn’t like I was going to be using the cupboards anytime soon any way. The only time I was opening them was to spray more spray. My strategy was to continue to spray until bugs stopped dying on the counters. Then I could use them. So I gently closed the cupboard door, backed away and that was that.

The next day I looked in and it was still there, but I could have promised that it was bigger and in a different spot. I thought I must have just been overly dramatic in my mind and didn’t think too much more about it. The next day they cleaned, but I forgot to mention the roach. The next I went to get it myself. WHY WAS IT ALL GONE except for the antenna and part of its head which were on the opposite side of the cupboard??!?!?!?

WHAT EATS DEAD ROACHES?!?! WHAT EATS DEAD ROACHES AND FREQUENTS MY KITCHEN CUPBOARDS??? I still have not seen any large living things in there, only very small ant – looking bugs… What is going on??? I bought some roach killer huts today. I also sprayed again. Sigh…

I would like to conclude this post with a word on the bug spray here. It’s a brand I’ve never seen before and it is made in Belgium. You spray it and then have to leave the room immediately for at least 10 minutes. When you come back the bugs you knew about, and the bugs you didn’t, will be laying dead on the floors and counters. In the coming days, bugs that happen by will also die. It kills bugs of all sizes – even the small-animal-size cockroaches. It’s really powerful. It’s so powerful that if you don’t leave the room you will immediately start coughing and will get a headache. I’m not sure what’s in it or if it’s safe for humans to be exposed to it. I told one of my co-workers about my feelings of thankfulness, wonder, awe and concern all surrounding this spray and asked him about it. He told me, “It’s because your bugs in America are weak. But you are in African now and the bugs here are strong.” Great. Here I am in Africa with the strong bugs… Hopefully I’ll get stronger too from living here. J

One of the most random airport experiences EVER

I have had some interesting airport experiences in my life, but this one is DEFINITELY at the top of the list.

On Sunday night I was waiting in the airport in Dakar for my flight to Ghana. I had gotten to the airport early because I had heard some horror stories about the waiting time.  When I got there, there weren’t any signs for Air Nigeria and a man saw me looking confused. Between his broken English and my broken French I understood they would start check in at 11:00 p.m.   Around 10:30 the man found me and told me “you check in now over there” and pointed towards about 6 counters. I wasn’t sure which one he meant but I figured I would just go over to that general direction and figure it out.

I got in a line, tapped the man in front of me and asked “Air Nigeria?” He said “Oui” so I waited behind him. A few hours later, I was waiting at the gate and he came and stood next to me while I was on the phone. He asked me if I was going to Niger. I said no, Monrovia and he was really excited and was like “Moi aussi!!” (me too!) I was like “ohh!...”  and may have given him a look like “Ok person I don’t know. I’m not sure why you’re so excited about this” and then pointed to my phone and kept talking and he walked away.

Later on he came back and told me that he didn’t speak French and only a little English because he was from Cape Verde and spoke Portuguese. I told him, “Oh! All I remember of Portuguese is ‘tudo bein’ and ‘obrigado’.” There wasn’t really too much more to say then so we parted ways.

In Dakar, they only do boarding announcements in French, so it was a little tricky knowing when to get in line for the plane. I had one year of French in high school, so I can get the basics, but I was a little confused when they started boarding from our gate at the time we were supposed to be boarding, but I hadn’t heard an announcement for Accra. I asked some people and they said they were going to Casablanca so I sat down to wait. A little later I saw the guy getting in line so I told him, that’s not our flight. He looked at me like he didn’t believe me, so I said “It’s not. It’s going to Casablanca.” So then he sat next to me and we waited together. I thought it was strange that he was talking to me and just sat next to me like we were friends, but it was one in the morning and I was tired and he seemed decent.  In a mixture of French and English we introduced ourselves and then made small talk. When the flight was boarding, I was like, “ok, let’s go” and we got in line and boarded the flight.

Our flight left around 2 a.m. and it was now around 7:00 a.m.  I was really tired and still half sleep. When I was getting off, I saw Jose (pronounced Jzo-say) still sitting! I motioned to him and was like “This is us! We’re in Accra!” When we were both off the plane, he came and stood next to me and we waited with the other people in transit. The immigration officer was asking each person what flight they had come from. When they got to Jose he had the stare that comes from trying to process but not understanding what the person speaking just said to you. I recognized it all too well since I’d just come from a French speaking country and had the same more expression more than once. I stepped in and answered the questions and we stayed together from that point on. At the next checkpoint, our names and information had to be written into a book. I answered all the questions for myself and Jose. There was a mix-up when we went to get our bags, so I talked to the airport people about it for both us. We had to be walked through the airport to wait for our next flight, and after the airport worker left us, we sat together.

Earlier while we were standing in line I asked Jose in Spanish, “Can you understand me if I speak in Spanish?” He threw up his hands and said “Si!!” So the rest of our conversations were a mix of English, Portuguese and Spanish. Our flight wasn’t until 11:15, so we had some time to wait until we could check in. He had to go to the bathroom, and he asked me to watch his bags while he was gone. I did and then he watched my suitcase (don’t worry it was locked) while I went to the bathroom. He went outside to smoke a cigarette and I watched his bags again. I was thirsty and so was he, so I went to buy us some water. As we drank our water, we talked about what we did for a living and how it was his first time out of Cape Verde.

After we checked in for our flight, we had to go through customs again. We went through together because Ghana is an English speaking country and he had a tough time with the Ghanian accent (can’t say that I blame him, I don’t always understand it either). I’m not gonna lie – the thought crossed my mind more than once “This is crazy! I hope this man is not a terrorist because I am really helping him and am on all kinds of security cameras with him! But then I remembered how thankful I was when I was in Dakar and people translated for me and helped me around. Plus, I didn’t have a bad feeling about him and I’m usually right in my feelings about people.

Once we were on the other side of security, he was like “I’m hungry.” And I was like, “ME TOO!” He said, “Let’s get something to eat.” So he bought me breakfast to thank me for helping him. We had chicken and jolof rice with coffee for him and Coke for me. (Coke is delicious in Ghana!) Then we waited for our flight together all the while speaking in a mixture of Spanish, English and Portuguese! We exchanged information before we got on the flight, and the next day he sent me an e-mail thanking me for all my help! How random is that!

Thankful

I know I have a lot of entries to catch up on, but I have to write this one now.  Yesterday afternoon I came back to Monrovia after a week in Senegal. I LOVED DAKAR!!! I think I would have liked it before living in Liberia, but I was very impressed with it this trip. I was there for a Food Aid Commodities Management Workshop and flew there with a co-worker. We got to the airport in Monrovia at 7:30 a.m. on Saturday morning and arrived in Dakar on Monday morning at 2:30 a.m. …Yes, I was a little bitter it that I could have been in the States in the time it took me to arrive in a city two countries away. But, that bitterness melted away when we were picked up by the hotel shuttle and started driving to our hotel on multi-lane paved roads with street lights!!! I hadn’t seen those in months! It was about a 20 minute drive to the hotel, a four star hotel, Radisson Blu. I walked in the lobby and I was like, “oh nice.” I walked into my room, screamed a scream of happiness and dove on the bed – a king sized bed with 3 down pillows and a duvet!

The week only got better from there. Dakar is large, isn’t humid or crowded like Monrovia, has a lot of restaurants, cafes, bars, stores for shopping, grocery stores like I’m used to in the US, even a mall! You see people jogging and walking for exercise. It has gyms with aerobics, yoga and spin classes! There are toilets everywhere – stores, restaurants, random tourist places. The internet is faster. The food was delicious and I ate all kinds of things! It was so nice to have a variety of food!! Senegal is a French speaking nation and heavily French influenced, so there were all kinds of delightful French pastries, good breads and cheeses, yogurts and fruits. It’s on the coast so the fish was really tasty. I also had real ice cream, a milkshake, good coffee and gelato! A few days after the workshop was done for the day, I sat outside by the hotel pool/bar and just watched the ocean, enjoying the smell and feel of the ocean breeze.

So, you might imagine there was quite a bit of culture shock when I came back to Liberia. It was the first time since I’ve been here when I was like, “I want to go home now.” I had been in the airport in Dakar since 9:00 the night before and got into Liberia at 2:30 p.m., so I was pretty tired. The immigration officer didn’t want to let me in and then he wanted to keep my passport, but I finally talked him into letting both me and my passport in the country (without bribing him!). I was thankful to see the driver waiting outside to take me home. It takes an hour to drive from the airport to Monrovia. On the drive on the two lane road, we went through some forest, passed a lot of shacks, and there were no street lights or nice buildings. When I got to my apartment, the broken fridge which the apartment manager promised would be taken care of was still there and so were a bunch of other problems. It was at that moment when I questioned why exactly I was living in Monrovia. I wished I could go over a friend’s apartment to talk about it and feel better, but over half the friends that I’ve made here have left because they’re assignments were up. (Liberia is the kind of place that people don’t usually stay in for a long time.)  I was so discouraged I even cried a little bit.

I was drying my tears when boyfriend called me – on my cell phone which is not cheap! – just to see how I was doing and if I was safely back in Monrovia. He could tell from my voice something was wrong and he asked, “Are you doing ok?” I was like, “No! Why did I come here?!?” He then proceeded to remind me of all the things I’d told him the past few weeks about how happy and thankful I was to be here, to have a job doing what I want to do and studied in school and how I feel like I am exactly where God wants me to be. We talked a little more and I felt comforted, took a shower and went to sleep.

The next morning I was a little sad because I didn’t sleep as well in my bed as I did in the bed at the Radisson Blu. I tried to make myself some breakfast, but my stove wasn’t working L so I ate a granola bar instead and got ready for work. At work, I was greeted by a spider the size of my hand on the wall and several things that were supposed to be taken care of last week weren’t. All those things added up in my mind and I ached for the goodness of the Radisson Blu and the comforts of Dakar. I almost wanted to cry again. Instead, I posted my feelings on facebook and tried to get some work done.

This brings me to the reason I need to post today - because friends reached out to me to find out what was wrong and to encourage me. I don’t know if they’d want me to  put their names in here, so I won’t, but I really appreciate everyone who sent me an encouraging message, reminded me that this is part of working abroad, told me to hang in there, etc. Some people even shared their own “this is a story of when I felt the same way when I lived in __.”

I feel so thankful for the love, support and encouragement of my boyfriend and friends! I really feel better about everything and am once again glad to be here… though I do miss the delicious food of Senegal… and the fast internet.  Ha – but seriously, it was really special to me that people cared enough to reach out to me, even though I’m not even on the same continent.

Grand Gedeh

I won’t give you a play by play of everything that happened in Grand Gedeh, but I will tell you one funny story.  The head of the OICI Grand Gedeh office and I were supposed to meet up with one of the field agents so she could take us to see some of the communities she’s working in. We arrived at the first place around 1:30 or 2:00. We walked around the town, a pretty sizeable one with over 100 people. It had homes made from thatch and mud. We saw children playing together, women working on adding mud to a home to reinforce it and men sitting together. I met the chief and some other men of the town and then we talked to a few women who were sitting together who said the field agent had been there earlier and was registering mothers and children, but then left. We thanked them and got in the car to leave when the staff member I was with saw someone he knew and wanted to say hello.

I hopped out of the car with him and we headed towards one of the huts. As we walked closer we heard the beating of drums and people yelling and singing. When we got to the porch, there were several men and an older woman outside. I shook all of their hands, met one of them and then we went inside.  When I walked into the doorway I saw four men banging drums and singing loudly and other men and women were sitting and standing around the edges of the room. It looked like at least half of them were high.  (Later we discussed it, and my coworkers felt they were drunk.) Inside I was thinking, “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE???”  It all seemed a little strange to me, but I put on my friendly face and went inside the room. They got a chair for me to sit in next to the man I’d met outside. It turned out that he was running for a position in the district government and we had happened upon a political rally in their town.

I talked with the man for a little bit. We found out that we both used to live in New York City, him in Harlem, me in Washington Heights  - like 15 or 20 minutes away from each other. Small world! My co-worker talked to the group a little bit about the work OICI is here to do and introduced me and I said a few words and then the music started again. Some women started dancing and grabbed my co-worker to join them. He did and then they came for me! I tried to politely resist at first, but then I thought that might be rude and remembered how I wanted them to join in our food security program, so I joined them too. They were all excited that I joined them and we danced for a bit and then we left. As we walked out, some women hugged me and some men shook my hand and the older women I saw in the beginning held my hand as she walked me to the car.

That was my first community visit!

Visit to the Field

Last week I made my first visit out to the field!  OICI’s main office, the one where I work, is in Monrovia and a few weeks ago we opened our two field offices out in the counties we’re working in, in Grand Gedeh and River Gee.  They’re both in the southeast of Liberia; Grand Gedeh is about 360 miles away from Monrovia, and River Gee is the next county over from there. If the roads were good it would only take about 6 hours to get to there, but they’re not, so it takes 10 to get to Grand Gedeh and another 4 to get to River Gee. And let me tell you, it was quite an adventure and a really great week!

Before I left I heard all kinds of things about the field: The road would be really bumpy and the drive 10+ hours long and without bathrooms. There would be bugs – but not to worry because the guesthouse where we’d stay in Grand Gedeh has mosquito nets...  I should bring water and food because there wouldn’t be too much out there.  I should change money before I go because while they like to use US dollars in Monrovia, they like Libertys – Liberian dollars in the rest of the country.  Some people were nervous for me, one because I’m American and most Americans find it a difficult trip and two, because after my first night here I requested a new hotel because there were bugs in my bed so they thought if I didn’t like that, how was I gonna handle the field?  I’m not gonna lie - I was a little nervous for myself. Hahaha. I didn’t know what to expect. I knew it was going to be a hardcore experience and I hoped, but wasn’t sure, I had it in me to do well. But, the morning we left, I was feeling good about it.

We left March 1 around 7:15 a.m. We supposed to leave at 6:00, 6:30 at the latest, but C.P. time, or “African time” as it’s called here –lol – was in effect. We wanted to leave early in the morning because there aren’t street lights here and the road is only paved for the first half of the trip. (The farther you get from Monrovia, the less developed things are. The government and the UN are working on it, but obviously these things take time and resources are limited.) I was the last of my co-workers to be picked up, so once they got me, we were on our way!

In our truck, a 5 seat pick-up truck, was me, Frank the Senior Accountant, George the Commodities Manager and Muhammad our driver. The drive is really incredible in so many ways! The first part is still pretty urban, the roads are paved, there are houses and stores made of cement and brick, etc.  As we continued on, there was less and less development. Eventually, it was all bumpy red dirt roads. Every now and then we would pass a town or village. After a while, it was just thick forest. All you could see for miles was the big blue sky and the greenery of trees and bushes.  We would drive and drive without seeing anyone and then all of the sudden, a random person would walk out of the bush! It was amazing to me because I wouldn’t have expected anyone to be there or to be able to navigate the terrain.

As I mentioned earlier, people warned me that there are no bathrooms on the way from Monrovia to Grand Gedeh. At various times on the drive, my male co-workers stopped to, what we now refer to as “inspect the tires.” I was not comfortable peeing on the side of the road, so I just drank very little that day. I was very relieved however, when we stopped halfway to refuel and get lunch and the filling station had a small store with a toilet in it!! It didn’t have running water, so you had to use a bucket to “flush it”, but I WAS SO GLAD about it! I also got some tasty lemon cookies that only cost $35 liberty – about 50 cents.  Ha – gas station in Ganta. It was a bright spot in the day.

We went through Nimba County where we saw Ivorian refugees and UN trucks full of supplies for them. There are at least 40,000 refugees from Cote d’Ivoire in Liberia right now because of the current president disputing the elections and refusing to leave office. People are afraid civil war will break out there. I’ve been following the situation on the news since I was in the States, but it was crazy to be so close to it, to see with my own eyes women and children and families in large numbers who fled from their homes and their countries.

I almost don’t have words for the second half of the drive.  Almost the only way to adequately share with you what it was like, would be to show pictures.  It looks like something you’d see on a National Geographic special.  There were just miles and miles of densely packed trees and bushes with dirt roads. But then, there would be a random village, or 2 or 3 people walking on the side of the red dirt road. My American mind was amazed to see that people are living like this. I’ve never seen anything like it before. On the UN human development index for 2010, Liberia was #162 out of 169 countries, and there were so many moments in this trip, when I thought, “Yes, I have moved to one of the poorest and least developed countries in the world.”

We arrived in Grand Gedeh around 5:30. We stopped by the office and greeted the staff and then checked in to our guesthouse. WOW. It was also a new experience for me. The first room they put me in didn’t have a mosquito net, so I switched to another room. When we checked in the electricity hadn’t been turned on yet, it was on from 7 p.m. – 2 a.m. (although I noticed they often shut it off earlier…), but in the glow of twilight I was like, yes, it’s fine. We went to dinner and when we came back, I went to my room. There was a queen sized bed with a fitted sheet and a spread, a mosquito net hanging over the bed, an air conditioning above the bed and a plastic lawn table with one chair in the room. The bathroom had a sink, a toilet with a broken seat and a large garbage can full of water and a cup and bucket. There was no running water. There were some bugs – both dead and alive because they had sprayed for bugs earlier. Here, whenever you check into a hotel, they spray your room for bugs. If they don’t, you can request that they do.

As I sat in my room I thought to myself, what am I doing here??? How do I get myself into these situations??? If there’s all these bugs now, what will happen when the power goes off at 2??? Thankfully I got a call from my mom then, and we talked and I felt calmer. After we hung up, I prayed for a bit and was feeling good about things and remembered that I had needed to pee for quite some time but  had forgotten in my nervousness about the whole situation.  I opened the door to the bathroom and a huge cockroach was walking across the floor…  I was like, “COME ON!!! I just got myself ok with the situation!” and then I went to get the boy who worked at the hotel to spray my room again.

When I went to get him, he told me “I already sprayed your room.” I was like, “Well can you spray it again? I have killed 4 bugs already, including one mosquito.” I didn’t mention the roach – I don’t know why.  I have found that bugs that I consider big are not really considered big here. Lol – those are stories for another day. He sprayed my room and then we both had to leave because the spray instantly makes you cough and gag the moment you breathe it in…  That kind of concerns me a little bit, but it is REALLY GREAT at killing bugs. Bugs you didn’t even know were there, come out and die. I watched soccer (“football” here) for an hour while I waited for the spray to work its magic. I checked in on my room from time to time and bugs were still dying and the air was still thick with the smell of chemical killer so I waited until it dissipated.

When I went back in, I put on my pajamas, wrapped myself in my towel that I brought from home (I had doubts about the cleanliness of the spread) and went to sleep. I slept well that night. That was day 1.  

Bugs in My Rice

So, my first time at the grocery store in Liberia, bought some rice, cooked it, put the rice bag in a Ziploc bag – pretty uneventful. A few days later I looked at the bag and saw two very small bugs crawling inside the bag towards the top. I was like, “How did they get in there?!? I thought I sealed the bag all the way…” I killed them, made sure the ziploc bag was closed and put it in the fridge for safe keeping.

The next time I cooked rice, after it was boiling on the stove I saw 5 or 6 of the same kind of small bugs floating in the top of the water!!! I was like, “What is going on here?!?” I googled it to see what the bugs were, if I needed to be concerned,  if the rice should be thrown away or if I could scoop the bugs out and still eat it. (In America I think my first reaction would have been to throw it out, but living around people who don’t get enough food to eat every day kinda changes your perspective. I also have had to become a little more go with the flow with eating here - lol)

I have never experienced the bugs in the rice phenomenon, but apparently everyone else in the world knows that you should wash your rice. In America the rice is sprayed to kill the bugs, but in other parts of the world, you wash your rice or just get extra protein… Mmm…

Washing it just involves rinsing it in water a number of times. The number of times seems to depend on the kind of rice and where you are in the world, but washing it gets rid of the bugs that may be in it as well as dirt and excess starch. It actually improves the quality of the rice. Since I’d already started cooking my rice and found that the bugs aren’t harmful, I scooped out them out, let the rice water boil a little longer than usual, said a prayer and ate it. J No complaints.

The next time I made rice, I rinsed it 3 times. I saw recommendations for everything from 2 – 9 times or to just put it under running water until the water is clear. The water isn’t safe to drink here, so I couldn’t do the latter, but I figured I’d rinse it until the water looked ok. The first time the water was really cloudy and bugs floated to the top. The second time it was clearer and only a few bugs. The last time it was pretty clear, so I let the rice sit for a bit, stirring it with my hand from time to time to make sure nothing was trying to hang on and then cooked it. SUCCESS!!! Not only were there no bugs, but the texture and taste were so much better!! Learn somethin new everyday! 

The Vice President Stopped by the Office

So far one of the most exciting days at the office was the day that the Vice President of Liberia, the Honorable Joseph N. Boakai, stopped by for a visit! I work for OIC International, and we have an affiliate in Liberia, LOIC. The Vice President was on the Board of Directors of LOIC for several years, and he wanted to stop by and see how things were going.

We were told he was coming at 11:00, so we all arrived by 10 to make sure we were there and everything was ready. A few of the staff from OICI and LOIC as well as the Board of Directors for LOIC waited for him in the boardroom as he was to address us first and get a tour of the facilities and compound and meet the rest of the staff.  When he came in the room he shook hands with everyone at the table, and then we all sat down. We had an opening prayer, then the Board Chair addressed the Vice President, then the Vice President spoke to us. He wasn’t what I expected. I thought he’d be tall and dynamic, but he is short and soft-spoken and moves kind of slowly and deliberately. He seemed like he was just speaking from his heart, but at first he didn’t look at us when he was speaking – he looked down at the table. As time went on, he started looking around the table.  He never visibly did anything to make me feel this way - during the tour he was very gracious to everyone, but I somehow had the feeling that even though he is older, quiet and slow moving, he is someone you don’t want to mess with.

Next we went on a tour of LOIC and OICI. When we came to OICI, the Director of LOIC introduced my boss and me to the vice president.  My boss then explained our program to the VP (using materials I helped create and put together!). He met a few more people and then went on to his next appointment for the day.

I’m not gonna lie, inside I was like, “I can’t believe this is happening!!! I was sitting at the same table with board members who are on the board because they are from the Ministry of Education, Ministry of Agriculture, Ministry of Youth and Sports , Directors of banks and other things like that and the Vice President of a country! There was only one other woman there and she was in her 60s. The rest were all men who were at least 10 years older than me! How crazy is that?!? I met the Vice President of Liberia in my first month here! I think this is going to be a good year J

The Wire...

There will be more on this later, but one of the highlights of my week has become going to the grocery store. On Valentines Day I went to the grocery store and got one of my new favorite things, Savannah cider from South Africa. I went to the store on my lunch break, and when I went home I cooked my dinner. After dinner I went to drink my cider and realized it needed a bottle opener and I don’t have one!!! I tried a few things around the apartment and came to the conclusion that if I cut my thumb while trying to open this bottle I was going to be very bitter. I decided I’d have to ask my neighbors.

I hadn’t met anyone on my floor, so I figured I’d just start to right and keep going until someone had one.  I knocked on my neighbor’s door, heard some noise inside and then the door flings open and this tall, lanky, middle-aged Australian man with salt and pepper hair is standing there and exclaims “Hey!!! It’s so great to see you! Come on in!” I was a little confused because I’d never seen him before and I wondered if he thought I was someone else, but this all happened in seconds and I was on a mission so I went inside.

Once inside he was like, “How are you? Would you like to sit down? Would you like some water? Would you like some tea?”  I held up my Savannah and was like, I actually was just wondering if you had a bottle opener… He was like “Oh yes!!! Let me open that for you!!!” And he took it and opened it and said, “I was just watching The Wire. Do you know that show? Would you like to watch an episode with me? Do you have a free hour or so?” I was like, “The Wire – the American tv show?”  He said, “Yes that’s the one!” I had never seen it but heard it was good and I did have a few free hours, so I said, “Ok. Sure. Would you like a cider?”  He said sure and I went and got one from my apartment.

We sat down to watch the show and talked for a little bit while we waited for the show to come on. He was very chatty (as he mentioned later, he never really gets visitors) so I didn’t really get to see that much of the show. About halfway through he realized he was talking a lot and was like, “Oh my goodness! I’m talking a lot! I should just let you borrow these. And that way you’d see them from the beginning.” I wasn’t going to argue with that! The little bit I saw was really good! And my three channels – CNN, Africa Magic and 24 hour soccer – had already gotten a little old.

I hate to admit this, but I watched the whole first season of The Wire in one week!!!! I can’t believe I didn’t start watching this show until I moved to Liberia and my Australian neighbor lent it to me! Hahaha – that is also one of the reasons I didn’t blog last week… I was following the lives of Avon, Stringer and McNulty in my free time… Mess, I know…

In case you were wondering, I’m on season 3 now. But! In my defense, he didn’t have season 2, so I’ve only watched a season and a half… Good times J

Mike, my Australian neighbor, has turned out to be very nice. If he’s going into town to go grocery shopping or something he always invites me along. He’s leaving Liberia on Saturday so I only have a few more days to finish watching his Wire dvds… ;) I don’t think it will be a problem.  People are discouraged from walking around at night, so most people stay home after dark unless they don’t mind driving in Monrovia at night. I’m going to have to blog about driving in Monrovia sometime – it’s an adventure for sure!

Apartment!

I’ve been in Monrovia for a month already!! Time has flown! Sorry I haven’t blogged in a while. I got a little busy… Major events since I last wrote are:

·         I moved into my apartment

·         The Wire…

·         I met the Vice President of Liberia, The Honorable Joseph N. Boakai

·         Grocery shopping

·         Bugs in my rice!

I will separate entries for all of these things because otherwise it’d be long, and if you’re anything like me, you’d be like “mmm… too much talking…” and not read it. Lol. So, let’s begin.

It took two weeks to find an apartment for me. The staff here helped me look for places. Because of the differences in standards of living, expats tend to live in about 5 areas in Monrovia. The first day we looked at apartments, I saw a place I liked, but it was full and wouldn’t have vacancies until the middle of February. We looked at the rest of the places and none of them felt right. There was also a problem because my organization had allotted a certain amount for my housing, but there were no apartments available for that price. The Liberian staff took pity on me and took me to some places they knew of.  Those didn’t really work because they ALL had some type of hole in the wall or the walls and ceiling didn’t always connect to each other.

I thought a possible solution was to have a roommate, plus, that could also mean someone to do things with. I met up with 2 women also in their 20s working for NGOs.  We went to see a place together and neither of them noticed the 1 ½ foot hole in the ceiling above the kitchen.  I asked the man showing us the house, “What is that?” My prospective roommates were like “Oh yeah! Wow!” He said “it’s a hole” like it was no big deal. I just kept looking at him – ha probably not with love – and he explained there was a problem with the roof so a man went up through the hole in the kitchen.  I wanted to know what the problem with the roof was. He wouldn’t tell me but did tell me not to worry about it. The problem was fixed and they’d put a board over the hole. I knew at that moment roommates were not the way to go and this was not the place for me. Hahaha.

I ended up living in the first place I saw and liked, an apartment building in Congo Town, a neighborhood of Monrovia. I’d heard good things about the building. It has electricity from 5 p.m. – 9 a.m. on the weekdays and 24 hour electricity on the weekends (I get so excited about 24 hour electricity on Saturdays, you don’t even know!!! ), 24 hour running water - HOT AND COLD (beautiful!!!) air conditioning, tv (it has 3 channels – ha, they did not mention that), a weight room, free laundry facilities, a bar/restaurant and 24 hour security. So far, it’s been really great. I’ve met a few neighbors – all very nice. And interestingly, when Liberian people find out I live in Congo Town they get excited. Most expats live in another area of Monrovia. Lol – one person even told me she finds Congo Town to be "… too Liberian for her taste", but I’m liking it. There’s a market just down the road and I’d prefer being here than with all the other Westerners. I think it’s going to be a good experience. J

There are pictures on Facebook. I was going to post some here but the internet’s too slow for that now… You can also see the apartments if you google “TGH Apartments in Monrovia."