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.