As you can tell, I have started to reach the end of my African trip. I have one more entry to enter, which I will do tomorrow.
I cannot help but to look back at this previous year and sit in wonder and awe. I never thought I would do the things I did, visit the places I visited, nor meet the people I've met. Instead, I have lived an adventurous and enjoyable year.
When the world rings in 2009 this week many things will not change. Winter will still be biting for most of the north. Violence will still ravage the Middle East (especially Israel, it appears). And the Cubs wills till break my heart every summer.
But other things are beginning anew. Aside from the obvious, a new president, we will have new opportunities to make the next year more exciting than the previous. Granted, I don't know how I'm going to top going to Africa, meeting one of the presidential candidates and working on my last political campaign. I'm sure I'll figure it out, though.
I've enjoyed telling my story to whomever is reading and I hope you've enjoyed reading it, as well. Storytelling is always an exciting exercise of the mind.
As such, I can't just stop because my trip has ended. There is a life to live and I wouldn't mind sharing it from time to time. So, I'm going to leave this blog untouched - sort of as an archive of my trip to Africa.
I have a new blog which will start in the new year. If you enjoyed reading this, then I hope you'll enjoy my new blog - http://jnshimko.blogspot.com. There is nothing there at the moment, but that'll change come January 2, 2009.
There won't be daily postings like this blog. I think it would get boring quickly if I posted daily. I could see it now, "Today I woke up at 7:30 instead of 7:00. It didn't change my schedule much, but I saw some new people at the gym because of my half-hour delay." (Pulitzer material right there, I'm telling you) Instead, I will post on anything that is truly exciting and on musings that I may have. I'll try to keep the politics to a bare minimum, but I think it could be interesting to see what comes from the new year.
So to all, I hope you had a very Merry Christmas (or Hanukkah) and I hope you will have a Happy New Year. May 2009 be an exciting and prosperous time for everyone.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
BACK!
I made it back safe and sound Thursday, November 27. Before I continue on this road, I would like to make a few quick comments about what will happen on this blog for the next couple of weeks.
Beginning tomorrow, I will start posting daily entries regarding my trip. These entries will be back-dated to the time I wrote them while I was away. This way I am not overwhelming anyone with my experiences all at once.
This will be the top entry for some time, as the new entries will be back-dated. Because of this, I urge everyone to read from November 13 onward. This will make your reading experience more enjoyable and make things more logical.
I hope everyone had a pleasant Thanksgiving Day and is preparing for a wonderful Christmas holiday.
Beginning tomorrow, I will start posting daily entries regarding my trip. These entries will be back-dated to the time I wrote them while I was away. This way I am not overwhelming anyone with my experiences all at once.
This will be the top entry for some time, as the new entries will be back-dated. Because of this, I urge everyone to read from November 13 onward. This will make your reading experience more enjoyable and make things more logical.
I hope everyone had a pleasant Thanksgiving Day and is preparing for a wonderful Christmas holiday.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Departure
+18:00 Monrovia~
This was a good exercise in patience, because most Americans do not have it. I will admit it was frustrating, and a bit worrisome, not knowing if I was going to make it to Monrovia in time to confirm my flight and return home. But as the day wore on, and as Joe made arrangements for my flight confirmation, my anxiety diminished and I began to take life in stride.
After I had said goodbye to the Dwehs, except the pastor who was travelling with us, I nestled into what would be my seat for the next 13 hours and took one last, longing look at the town that opened my eyes to a whole new world. Saying goodbye to a family can be hard, but saying goodbye to a place that has changed my entire outlook on life is nearly impossible.
The city landscape is vastly different from many I have seen before. The cities are mixed between glorious buildings symbolic of the rebuilding occurring in the war-torn nation alongside bombed-out shelters. The nation's capitol building is across the street from a walled structure that once maintained some home or business but not acts as a shelter for many families. The walls are blackened by fires long extinguished and the signs of a war that nearly destroyed the oldest African republic are evident throughout. There is little joy taken from the sights of children scrounging for food or families living in gutted buildings, barely surviving beyond the day. It is a stark contrast to the quiet life in Zwedru.
My time in Africa is nearing the end. But even the efforts to return to America was filled with a new outlook on life.
The concept of scheduling and living with plans is virtually lost for most Liberians. There are basic schedules; keeping track of the school year, knowing when Christmastime is approaching, and when to plant/harvest crops. But for the most part there is no need to keep a schedule. I learned this on our way back to Monrovia.
On Monday morning, Joe went to the "parking," a central location for taxis and other transportation services, to find a car bound for Monrovia. After waiting two hours, he returned to the Pastor's house empty-handed. He said there was only one car going to Monrovia and it already had people in it. We waited throughout the day for the car, but as the sun stretched over the African sky, no car was willing to take the trip. Instead of spending my day in a car on my first leg home, I sat outside on the porch reading.
This was a good exercise in patience, because most Americans do not have it. I will admit it was frustrating, and a bit worrisome, not knowing if I was going to make it to Monrovia in time to confirm my flight and return home. But as the day wore on, and as Joe made arrangements for my flight confirmation, my anxiety diminished and I began to take life in stride. Tuesday morning I was awoken to the sound of a car running outside as we had a car and were packing up for the long road home. This time the car appeared to be well kept, running smoothly (compared to the previous cars I had been in) and ready to go. Before I took off, however, I had to start my string of goodbyes. The Dweh family, who had been gracious hosts, will always have a place in my heart. Their hospitality and their company were key factors in making me feel comfortable in a strange land. I especially will always remember the fun evening conversations we held each night.
After I had said goodbye to the Dwehs, except the pastor who was travelling with us, I nestled into what would be my seat for the next 13 hours and took one last, longing look at the town that opened my eyes to a whole new world. Saying goodbye to a family can be hard, but saying goodbye to a place that has changed my entire outlook on life is nearly impossible. The next day brought me to the heart of Monrovia. The city was littered with street vendors. Everywhere you turned, you would find someone selling something to the masses. From knock-off paintings (I can get you a great deal on a wonderful print of a European home, only $200. It's a steal, so they say) to bars of soap, you can buy anything you need in the streets of Monrovia. You can even buy a meat for dinner that night, freshly killed (which no longer surprises me).
The city landscape is vastly different from many I have seen before. The cities are mixed between glorious buildings symbolic of the rebuilding occurring in the war-torn nation alongside bombed-out shelters. The nation's capitol building is across the street from a walled structure that once maintained some home or business but not acts as a shelter for many families. The walls are blackened by fires long extinguished and the signs of a war that nearly destroyed the oldest African republic are evident throughout. There is little joy taken from the sights of children scrounging for food or families living in gutted buildings, barely surviving beyond the day. It is a stark contrast to the quiet life in Zwedru. But is it really surprising? American life is vastly different between the urban centers of New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles, and the quieter towns of Dixon, Ill., Norman, Okla., and Fredericksburg, VA. The cities have abject poverty, run-down buildings and signs of despair throughout while the smaller towns have a quieter lifestyle. There is still the blights of society, homelessness and lower-class citizens still exist in every community in the nation. But there is a vast difference between the lifestyle and the morality of the two differing communities.
The same can be said of Zwedru and Monrovia. While both have their problems, the extreme poverty and the street vending and the signs of a life long diminished by bombs, the amplification of the devastation can be seen in the larger city.
It seems just yesterday I had arrived, wondering what lay before me and what had I landed
into. Now, I sit in the airport's lone terminal, waiting for my flight home.
I could never imagine longing for the quiet afternoons in Zwedru, sitting in the growing shade beside the house and visiting with whomever decided to stop by that day. I will miss my time with the Dwehs and I will miss the kids at the schools clamoring to touch my pale (now slightly darker) skin and meet the American. I'll miss the exotic, and now very familiar, food filled with flavor and spices each revealing a new insight into African life.
But, I also look forward to my return home. I will arrive on Thanksgiving and could not think of a time more appropriate to return. There is much to be thankful for in my life, and now so much more. I can say the most I am thankful for, however, is being an American. I am impressed with life in Liberia; how they can live so fully with so little. But I am thankful for having a government I can complain about that will listen to my grievances. I am thankful for having the opportunity to take a car from one city to the next, or even one state to the next, without delay or haggling over price. I am very thankful for having a home with running water. I am most thankful, however, for the ability to choose to live the life I want without worry.
The world is a lot smaller for me today, but my future could not be any larger. My eyes have been opened to things I have never seen, nor ever thought I would see. I am glad to have been given this opportunity, thankful for everyone who helped me on my way there, and look forward to taking my life to the next step, wherever - and whatever - that may be.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
End of the Road
+23:00 Zwedru~
I've reached the end of my week in Zwedru. It is unfortunate my time here flew by so quickly, but I am glad to have been able to experience everything I did. This is also the first time I have celebrated my birthday away from family or friends. I knew this going into the trip, and I don't regret it, since I think this has been a wonderful gift.
Birthdays are not celebrated in Liberia. When you don't keep records to the degree Americans do, it is hard to celebrate such an occasion. There are some who keep track of birth dates and death dates, but it is not common enough. Instead, they keep track of how long they've been alive in years. When the next year comes around, they add a year to their age and move along.
So, today was a day to experience a new church. I was prepared for some aspects - the longer time in church and the heat - but others were quite new and enjoyable. The music was really amazing. Because I was there, most of the songs were in Krahn, instead of the half-English and half-Krahn song selection normally presented. Most of the music was accompanied by a single drum, with a keyboard providing help from time to time. It was all completely exotic for me, exotic and beautiful.
The service is set up in a manner quite different from any Lutheran service I have been to previously. The men sat on the left while the women were on the right, the children occupied the center. Whenever a woman entered the building, she would have her head covered. This was
either from a headdress or a simple cloth to cover the head. Two people would walk through the aisles to monitor the members, making sure no one was asleep and providing water to those who needed it.
They provided a spot for me up near the front by the electronic equipment, so they could have a fan blowing on me most of the time. This was a blessing, since we were in the building for nearly 4 hours. It didn't seem like that long, however, since I spent so much time listening to the music, none of which I could compare with what I've heard in a church service before.
When we returned from church, I had what became my favorite meal in Liberia; pumpkin soup with rice. As some people know, pumpkin is my favorite fruit. When fall arrives, I will do whatever I can to indulge in anything pumpkin, from breads to lattes, soups to pies (and even the occasional muffin). It was a real treat to enjoy this meal, which came from a type of pumpkin I had never seen before.
The rest of the day was similar to previous ones; time for reading and enjoying each others' company. But when the day turned to night, I was given a great treat. Instead of turning on the generator shortly after sunset, we opted to keep the lights off a little while longer, giving me a chance to see a true night sky. When the nightfall was in full view, I could see stars only viewed from planetariums in our cities. The Milky Way galaxy's band brightly shone in full view. To add to the wonder and beauty, Venus and Jupiter were perfectly aligned in the sky. It was an amazing painting, with everything coming to life on the dark canvass.
As I mentioned earlier, my time is nearly finished here. It has been a great experience and I have learned so much. The people have gone through so much and lost so many close friends and family from war, either by death or relocation. But with all that has been lost, there is still so much in store. Their beauty has not diminished, their love of life not tempered. Everything I have seen has proven that true happiness can be found everywhere in this world. My exposure to this new land has only heightened my enjoyment here. I have never been through so much and learned so much in such a short time.
I am a bit sad to leave this town, and the great people I have come to know. But, at the same time it is good to start my journey back home. Tomorrow, we leave to Monrovia as I begin the long journey back. But not before I heard some good news from home. As a gift for me, Joe called his wife and had her look up the Oklahoma-Texas Tech football score. How great it is to hear about OU's big win while I was so far away!
I've reached the end of my week in Zwedru. It is unfortunate my time here flew by so quickly, but I am glad to have been able to experience everything I did. This is also the first time I have celebrated my birthday away from family or friends. I knew this going into the trip, and I don't regret it, since I think this has been a wonderful gift.
Birthdays are not celebrated in Liberia. When you don't keep records to the degree Americans do, it is hard to celebrate such an occasion. There are some who keep track of birth dates and death dates, but it is not common enough. Instead, they keep track of how long they've been alive in years. When the next year comes around, they add a year to their age and move along.
So, today was a day to experience a new church. I was prepared for some aspects - the longer time in church and the heat - but others were quite new and enjoyable. The music was really amazing. Because I was there, most of the songs were in Krahn, instead of the half-English and half-Krahn song selection normally presented. Most of the music was accompanied by a single drum, with a keyboard providing help from time to time. It was all completely exotic for me, exotic and beautiful.The service is set up in a manner quite different from any Lutheran service I have been to previously. The men sat on the left while the women were on the right, the children occupied the center. Whenever a woman entered the building, she would have her head covered. This was
either from a headdress or a simple cloth to cover the head. Two people would walk through the aisles to monitor the members, making sure no one was asleep and providing water to those who needed it.They provided a spot for me up near the front by the electronic equipment, so they could have a fan blowing on me most of the time. This was a blessing, since we were in the building for nearly 4 hours. It didn't seem like that long, however, since I spent so much time listening to the music, none of which I could compare with what I've heard in a church service before.
When we returned from church, I had what became my favorite meal in Liberia; pumpkin soup with rice. As some people know, pumpkin is my favorite fruit. When fall arrives, I will do whatever I can to indulge in anything pumpkin, from breads to lattes, soups to pies (and even the occasional muffin). It was a real treat to enjoy this meal, which came from a type of pumpkin I had never seen before.The rest of the day was similar to previous ones; time for reading and enjoying each others' company. But when the day turned to night, I was given a great treat. Instead of turning on the generator shortly after sunset, we opted to keep the lights off a little while longer, giving me a chance to see a true night sky. When the nightfall was in full view, I could see stars only viewed from planetariums in our cities. The Milky Way galaxy's band brightly shone in full view. To add to the wonder and beauty, Venus and Jupiter were perfectly aligned in the sky. It was an amazing painting, with everything coming to life on the dark canvass.
As I mentioned earlier, my time is nearly finished here. It has been a great experience and I have learned so much. The people have gone through so much and lost so many close friends and family from war, either by death or relocation. But with all that has been lost, there is still so much in store. Their beauty has not diminished, their love of life not tempered. Everything I have seen has proven that true happiness can be found everywhere in this world. My exposure to this new land has only heightened my enjoyment here. I have never been through so much and learned so much in such a short time.I am a bit sad to leave this town, and the great people I have come to know. But, at the same time it is good to start my journey back home. Tomorrow, we leave to Monrovia as I begin the long journey back. But not before I heard some good news from home. As a gift for me, Joe called his wife and had her look up the Oklahoma-Texas Tech football score. How great it is to hear about OU's big win while I was so far away!
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Evenings in Liberia
22:30 Zwedru~
Saturday means no school, but it doesn't mean no work. Not for Liberians, anyway. This is the day everyone works to prepare for Sunday. Kids are helping with the laundry and cooking, women are preparing Saturday's dish (which is a smaller meal than any other day) and Sunday's feast. Men are, well, they are doing whatever they need to do for the day. I know that doesn't say much, but I spent the day reading and visiting with whomever stopped by. Joe thought I should take the day to rest after the busy week and the upcoming church service.
Since there isn't anything big to discuss today, I thought I'd take the time to talk about the evenings in Zwedru. As I mentioned earlier, there is no central power source in Liberia. This means nightlife in Liberia isn't exactly like the nightlife in America. People don't go clubbing or bar-hopping in Zwedru. There is some of that in Monrovia, and a little bit in Ganta, though.
Saturday means no school, but it doesn't mean no work. Not for Liberians, anyway. This is the day everyone works to prepare for Sunday. Kids are helping with the laundry and cooking, women are preparing Saturday's dish (which is a smaller meal than any other day) and Sunday's feast. Men are, well, they are doing whatever they need to do for the day. I know that doesn't say much, but I spent the day reading and visiting with whomever stopped by. Joe thought I should take the day to rest after the busy week and the upcoming church service.
Since there isn't anything big to discuss today, I thought I'd take the time to talk about the evenings in Zwedru. As I mentioned earlier, there is no central power source in Liberia. This means nightlife in Liberia isn't exactly like the nightlife in America. People don't go clubbing or bar-hopping in Zwedru. There is some of that in Monrovia, and a little bit in Ganta, though.
Instead, after the Sun sets and the families have eaten, people will gather outside the house. At the pastor's house, we have had visitors every night. They all want to meet the American and talk to Joe. The broad topic never changes - they all want to hear about American life - but the specifics do nightly. Some nights we'll talk about the churches in America while other nights we discuss American sports. Education will even pop up occasionally. Joe typically does most of the talking since he can speak both Krahn and Liberian English. Whenever I talk, they usually have no idea what I am saying and Joe translates or I have to repeat myself in various forms before my point is made. This hasn't been the case lately, as I have started to pick up various words that are key to making my point.
The same thing happens, no matter who is speaking. Our guests will listen in awe and laugh at the strange customs of America, from mowing the lawn to paying monthly for cell phone use. They are curious about why we do some of the things we do, such as having private bedrooms for each individual child instead of having one for all the boys and another for the girls. At the same time, however, each one has a dream of seeing America someday.
One young man, Nyossoa (pronounced Kneo-Swah), has been the most curious - and entertaining - of all our visitors. He is the youngest brother of Pastor Dweh and attends Nixon School. He'll come at night to visit with the pastor's eldest son, Aaron, and then the two will join our group to hear our stories.
Each time he comes, you have no idea what he'll ask. Once he wanted to know about our government. Another time, he wants to know about soccer and wrestling (I crushed his heart when I told him the WWE wasn't real). And even other nights he would come in just to hear about the daily life of a kid his age. Each time, though, we both end the evening with a greater understanding - and appreciation - of each other's culture.
I was made sure to learn his full name, since he wanted to have everyone in America know his 
name before his arrival, and impending rise to fame, which gave me an insight into family structure in Liberia. His name is Rufus Dweh Nyossoa Bael (I'm unsure of the spelling of the last name). Rufus is the given name with Dweh the family name. Nyossoa is the name he was christened with (not really christened in our traditional sense but the closest description I can give to what this name represents). Bael is the name of an old family member, generations back. Each name is important to him, but he goes by Nyossoa among family and friends, with Rufus being the name he uses for government purposes; school, census, voting, etc.
The boys are big soccer fans, both being fans of F.C. Barcelona in the Spanish league and Arsenal in the British league, and couldn't understand why Americans weren't more into the sport. I tried to explain American football to them, especially college football, but I don't think I was as successful as I had hoped. I did make sure to impart on them my love of the University of Oklahoma and its football program, and I think they really understood that after a while (and a few days wearing various OU paraphernalia). Listening to Nyossoa try to pronounce Oklahoma was a riot, however. Each time, he tried to add an "H" to the beginning and couldn't get through half of the word without stopping. After a while, he just stopped and said no Liberian who lives in Oklahoma admit to it because it's too hard to pronounce. When I come next time, I should just say I'm from New York.
Tonight, as I am nearing the end of my time in Zwedru, I decided to give a small token of my appreciation to Nyossoa's company and humor. I gave him one of my OU t-shirts (clean, of course). Not only was he grateful to receive the shirt, but it gave him enough incentive to visit the state so he could learn more about it, and maybe figure out how to pronounce it.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Over the River and Through the (Jungle)
+18:00 Zwedru~
It's hard to visit new places and new people when you are not in the best health. It's even harder when you know this is your only chance.
Today, I have a slight cold. Nothing too severe and it hasn't really bothered me that much. My left eye, however, is completely shot. I have kept my contacts in all week without taking them out. I don't have a mirror and I know my hands are not as clean as I normally would have them. Last night, however, my eye started aching to the point that I couldn't sleep and just had to take the contacts out.
This morning, however, the eye is very red and irritated. Sunlight is my enemy, which makes it hard to function with both eyes when you are outside all day. Hopefully it will go away soon. I don't want the rest of my trip to be hampered by this setback.
I did not let my eye deter our plans to visit Pyne Town today, however. It was my only opportunity to visit Sinoe County, which is a more rural and poorer county than Grand Gedeh, where I have been staying this week. I was able to see most of the trip to Pyne Town, fortunately.
The road was in worse shape than the one we took last week, with deep ditches from the wet season that just ended. At times it appeared we were not going to make it through to Pyne Town because of these obstacles. There was one spot where the road was virtually washed away, with a small ditch to pass through. You could tell a number of cars and motorbikes tried to pass through with varying degrees of success.
The driver, whose car was in much better shape than the one we took to Zleh Town, decided to slow down and carefully maneuver through the small passageway. This was mildly successful as we were able to make it halfway through the trial before he wedged the little Nissan between two mud walls. At this point Pastor Dweh and Joe got out, telling me to stay in the car, and tried to push the car through. When this proved unsuccessful, I decided it was pointless for the "guest" to stay in the car and proceeded to help push the car, as well. Either my additional muscle or the less weight in the car, probably a combination of both, proved to be the trick as we were able to make it through and ride on.
The rest of the road to Pyne Town was a denser jungle than what I've been through previously. The road narrowed as we were surrounded by the jungle, with its high-rising trees and exotic wildlife, including birds of all sorts.
When we arrived in Pyne Town, I understood why Joe had mentioned it was one of the harder places for the schools to succeed. This was a small village, with few buildings apart from the homes. Where most of the people in Zwedru and Monrovia had cell phones for communication, the villagers here used word of mouth to spread word. To make matters worse for the school, the Lutheran Church of Liberia had promised the necessary materials to build the church but failed to deliver on the promise. Joe said it came from a lack of funding and a need to spend the money in other villages. Word spread fairly quickly of our arrival. By the time we had settled down in the main room of the pastor's home, the school children crowded the entrance as well as the open window. They kept creating distractions, fighting to catch a glimpse of the "white man," while we met with the teachers of a school without a school building. They had hoped to use the new church building as a school, but without the materials from the Church there is little hope for that plan to succeed. Instead, they use whatever building they can to teach the students.
It is unfortunate that money has become so scarce throughout the country that even non-profit organizations like the Lutheran Church has to resort to robbing Peter to pay Paul. You cannot fault the Church for shifting money from one area to pay off other areas when the men and women running the organization are doing nothing different than any other, including the United Nations. Instead, the churches left without resources search for other means to fund themselves. While this proves successful in cities like Zwedru, villages like Pyne Town cannot possibly function without external aid. This is why groups like the Liberian Children's Ministry proves to be a great asset. Without Joe, there would be no education for the kids in this small village, and without the help from Americans gifting to the LCM, there would be no school building in the future for Pyne Town. Of course, I'm not sure how grateful the villagers were on hearing of the gift since most of the conversation was in Krahn, leaving me to listen to Joe interpret what was said.
The rest of the trip was much like my visit to the other schools; the children all wanted to touch me or shake my hand and everyone wanted their picture taken (this time I used the small viewfinder as the sunlight filtered through it aided my eye). There was one major difference from my trip to Zleh Town, though. Instead of preparing a meal for us to eat, because they were unsure of when we would arrive, they gave me a gift. I am now the proud(?) owner of a chicken. I can say it was the first time I have received livestock as a gift - or for any other reason.
The trip back was as eventful as the trip to Pyne Town, with the car wedged in the same mud at the same point in the road-turned-ditch. As night fell and the week ended, my eye was improving and the rain moved into town. It was no sprinkle-turned-shower, nor was it a steady rainfall. It was a torrential downpour with strong winds blowing the rain vertically. I just stood in the doorway to the house, watching the rain as the metal roof transformed into nature's drum. Now I understand why Liberians prefer metal roofs to thatch. The rainstorm lifts the thatch roofs and the water just soaks through, leaving a less-than-ideal situation.
After the rain passed through, about an hour later, Pastor Dweh turned on the generator and prepared the only television set I've seen outside Monrovia. On weekends, the pastor will move the tv to the front porch and invite the neighborhood over to watch a film. Because of the rain, tonight's movie was indoors for the family. We were treated to The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, a 1958 film, with Arabic subtitles. How fitting, considering the film's topic.
My time is almost finished in Zwedru and we plan to drive back to Monrovia on Sunday after church. It is amazing to think the week is already completed, but I know I will never forget its events. This has definitely been one of the most amazing weeks I've ever had, with so many memories and experiences that I cannot possibly share them all when I return. Maybe I will run out stories from Liberia one day, but I can only imagine it will be months down the road.
It's hard to visit new places and new people when you are not in the best health. It's even harder when you know this is your only chance.
Today, I have a slight cold. Nothing too severe and it hasn't really bothered me that much. My left eye, however, is completely shot. I have kept my contacts in all week without taking them out. I don't have a mirror and I know my hands are not as clean as I normally would have them. Last night, however, my eye started aching to the point that I couldn't sleep and just had to take the contacts out.
This morning, however, the eye is very red and irritated. Sunlight is my enemy, which makes it hard to function with both eyes when you are outside all day. Hopefully it will go away soon. I don't want the rest of my trip to be hampered by this setback.
I did not let my eye deter our plans to visit Pyne Town today, however. It was my only opportunity to visit Sinoe County, which is a more rural and poorer county than Grand Gedeh, where I have been staying this week. I was able to see most of the trip to Pyne Town, fortunately.
The road was in worse shape than the one we took last week, with deep ditches from the wet season that just ended. At times it appeared we were not going to make it through to Pyne Town because of these obstacles. There was one spot where the road was virtually washed away, with a small ditch to pass through. You could tell a number of cars and motorbikes tried to pass through with varying degrees of success.The driver, whose car was in much better shape than the one we took to Zleh Town, decided to slow down and carefully maneuver through the small passageway. This was mildly successful as we were able to make it halfway through the trial before he wedged the little Nissan between two mud walls. At this point Pastor Dweh and Joe got out, telling me to stay in the car, and tried to push the car through. When this proved unsuccessful, I decided it was pointless for the "guest" to stay in the car and proceeded to help push the car, as well. Either my additional muscle or the less weight in the car, probably a combination of both, proved to be the trick as we were able to make it through and ride on.
The rest of the road to Pyne Town was a denser jungle than what I've been through previously. The road narrowed as we were surrounded by the jungle, with its high-rising trees and exotic wildlife, including birds of all sorts.
When we arrived in Pyne Town, I understood why Joe had mentioned it was one of the harder places for the schools to succeed. This was a small village, with few buildings apart from the homes. Where most of the people in Zwedru and Monrovia had cell phones for communication, the villagers here used word of mouth to spread word. To make matters worse for the school, the Lutheran Church of Liberia had promised the necessary materials to build the church but failed to deliver on the promise. Joe said it came from a lack of funding and a need to spend the money in other villages. Word spread fairly quickly of our arrival. By the time we had settled down in the main room of the pastor's home, the school children crowded the entrance as well as the open window. They kept creating distractions, fighting to catch a glimpse of the "white man," while we met with the teachers of a school without a school building. They had hoped to use the new church building as a school, but without the materials from the Church there is little hope for that plan to succeed. Instead, they use whatever building they can to teach the students.
It is unfortunate that money has become so scarce throughout the country that even non-profit organizations like the Lutheran Church has to resort to robbing Peter to pay Paul. You cannot fault the Church for shifting money from one area to pay off other areas when the men and women running the organization are doing nothing different than any other, including the United Nations. Instead, the churches left without resources search for other means to fund themselves. While this proves successful in cities like Zwedru, villages like Pyne Town cannot possibly function without external aid. This is why groups like the Liberian Children's Ministry proves to be a great asset. Without Joe, there would be no education for the kids in this small village, and without the help from Americans gifting to the LCM, there would be no school building in the future for Pyne Town. Of course, I'm not sure how grateful the villagers were on hearing of the gift since most of the conversation was in Krahn, leaving me to listen to Joe interpret what was said.
The rest of the trip was much like my visit to the other schools; the children all wanted to touch me or shake my hand and everyone wanted their picture taken (this time I used the small viewfinder as the sunlight filtered through it aided my eye). There was one major difference from my trip to Zleh Town, though. Instead of preparing a meal for us to eat, because they were unsure of when we would arrive, they gave me a gift. I am now the proud(?) owner of a chicken. I can say it was the first time I have received livestock as a gift - or for any other reason.
The trip back was as eventful as the trip to Pyne Town, with the car wedged in the same mud at the same point in the road-turned-ditch. As night fell and the week ended, my eye was improving and the rain moved into town. It was no sprinkle-turned-shower, nor was it a steady rainfall. It was a torrential downpour with strong winds blowing the rain vertically. I just stood in the doorway to the house, watching the rain as the metal roof transformed into nature's drum. Now I understand why Liberians prefer metal roofs to thatch. The rainstorm lifts the thatch roofs and the water just soaks through, leaving a less-than-ideal situation.After the rain passed through, about an hour later, Pastor Dweh turned on the generator and prepared the only television set I've seen outside Monrovia. On weekends, the pastor will move the tv to the front porch and invite the neighborhood over to watch a film. Because of the rain, tonight's movie was indoors for the family. We were treated to The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, a 1958 film, with Arabic subtitles. How fitting, considering the film's topic.
My time is almost finished in Zwedru and we plan to drive back to Monrovia on Sunday after church. It is amazing to think the week is already completed, but I know I will never forget its events. This has definitely been one of the most amazing weeks I've ever had, with so many memories and experiences that I cannot possibly share them all when I return. Maybe I will run out stories from Liberia one day, but I can only imagine it will be months down the road.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Downtime
+14:00 Zwedru~
It has become obvious that life in Liberia is vastly different than the high-speed, must-do-it-yesterday life Americans have grown to love (or loathe). This fact becomes more apparent with each passing moment out here. Today was another example of this divergence from American life.
We couldn't send word to Pyne Town, which is in Sinoe County, of our impending visit. This, in turn, prevents us from travelling out there since we wouldn't reach the school in time to visit the children before they are dismissed. Sending word allows the teachers to delay releasing the children for the extra half-hour. As such, we opted to return to Nixon School today.
Students were continuing their 2nd Period testing today. Testing here is not like America. You don't sit in a classroom and have the teacher hand out the exams and then continue on with the day after the exam is finished. Instead, each subject teacher uses a specific classroom to administer the test. The teacher will then write the exam on the blackboard. The students, during their appointed hour, will arrive to the classroom, receive a blank piece of paper (with the school's seal stamped in the corner), and begin their examination. No student is allowed to enter or leave during the exam, either.
Because of this, the classes are staggered for their exam schedule. The lower grades, 2nd through 5th grade for example, will arrive on one day for their exams followed by the upper grades the next day. This will go on for a week, beginning on Wednesday and finishing on Tuesday the following week.
Because there was not much to do today, I thought I'd take the time to talk more in depth about the food. If you want to eat in Liberia know one simple fact; you will eat rice ever day you are there. If you do not like rice one bit, there is little chance you will enjoy anything in this country. Fortunately for me, I enjoy rice quite a bit.
The concept of three square meals, or six small meals as many nutritionists will tell you is healthier, is lost in this nation. Instead, you have one large meal prepared for the day. It is typically served in the early afternoon. There will be a large dish of rice accompanied with a smaller dish of some type of "sauce." The sauce is the excitement for each meal. Everything I have had so far has been amazing. We've enjoyed a peanut sauce with beef, "greens" with duiker, potatoes with fish, and cassava with chicken. Everything is spicy and filled with exotic flavor. Especially the cassava. I think this is my favorite so far. It is funny because I don't like tapioca, which is made from the root of the cassava plant.
Cassava is an interesting plant. As I said, the dish was filled with flavor and spicy. There was a thickness to the texture of the dish, with the sauce saturating each grain of rice to ensure a dish filled with flavor. I wish I could compare it to a familiar dish, but unfortunately I cannot. I can say it is interesting to note if the cassava leaf is not cooked properly it can make you violently ill and consumption of the raw leaf can kill you. The leaf contains a chemical that leads to the creation of cyanide.
As I mentioned earlier, the meal is prepared in the early afternoon. Everyone will eat as soon as the dish is ready, but no one puts away the food afterwards. Since there is no central source of electricity, there is no concept of refrigeration or food storage. Instead, you leave the meal covered for the day and eat whenever you are hungry. Typically, Liberians eat twice daily.
Further, meals are not a family affair. The men will eat separate from the women and children. Men will sit in front of the home, talking about the topics of the day while the women and children eat in the back, near the preparation area. I'm not sure what they talk about, if anything, since I was never back there during a meal.
When we were in Zleh Town, the pastor of Trinity Lutheran invited us to visit his home. This, it turns out, means he wanted to serve us a meal. We sat in the main room, where the pastor's mother dished us the food, first with the rice in the bowl and then the sauce on top. This was the "greens" I had mentioned earlier. Now, this dish sounds bland, but it was by far the spiciest meal I had all week. If it weren't for 1.5L bottles of water, I don't think I could've lasted throughout the meal. Greens, in Liberian, mean the leaves of the potato finely chopped and served with oil, typically palm oil, and meat. As you can guess, I had never had the leaf of a potato before. Tastes pretty good if you ask me.
As soon as the woman served our dishes, she disappeared. We were left to eat alone and only saw her again after we had finished so she could collect the dishes and disappear again. The roles of men and women in this society are very defined and rarely blurred. Even when guests arrive, the men and women do not eat together. It was not uncommon for a woman to greet me, talk for a moment and then disappear to the back to eat while the men stayed up front.
I asked Joe about this later, and he said this was how the culture exists. It is a regimented division between the men and the women. He had mentioned it can lead to problems, especially in dating. I wasn't able to ask much more, but he touched on it briefly, stating that the couple will often be separated from each other during the date because of the requirements.
Somehow, I don't see how many young Americans, myself included among them, would find this aspect of Liberia culture enjoyable.
It has become obvious that life in Liberia is vastly different than the high-speed, must-do-it-yesterday life Americans have grown to love (or loathe). This fact becomes more apparent with each passing moment out here. Today was another example of this divergence from American life.
We couldn't send word to Pyne Town, which is in Sinoe County, of our impending visit. This, in turn, prevents us from travelling out there since we wouldn't reach the school in time to visit the children before they are dismissed. Sending word allows the teachers to delay releasing the children for the extra half-hour. As such, we opted to return to Nixon School today.
Students were continuing their 2nd Period testing today. Testing here is not like America. You don't sit in a classroom and have the teacher hand out the exams and then continue on with the day after the exam is finished. Instead, each subject teacher uses a specific classroom to administer the test. The teacher will then write the exam on the blackboard. The students, during their appointed hour, will arrive to the classroom, receive a blank piece of paper (with the school's seal stamped in the corner), and begin their examination. No student is allowed to enter or leave during the exam, either.Because of this, the classes are staggered for their exam schedule. The lower grades, 2nd through 5th grade for example, will arrive on one day for their exams followed by the upper grades the next day. This will go on for a week, beginning on Wednesday and finishing on Tuesday the following week.
Because there was not much to do today, I thought I'd take the time to talk more in depth about the food. If you want to eat in Liberia know one simple fact; you will eat rice ever day you are there. If you do not like rice one bit, there is little chance you will enjoy anything in this country. Fortunately for me, I enjoy rice quite a bit.
The concept of three square meals, or six small meals as many nutritionists will tell you is healthier, is lost in this nation. Instead, you have one large meal prepared for the day. It is typically served in the early afternoon. There will be a large dish of rice accompanied with a smaller dish of some type of "sauce." The sauce is the excitement for each meal. Everything I have had so far has been amazing. We've enjoyed a peanut sauce with beef, "greens" with duiker, potatoes with fish, and cassava with chicken. Everything is spicy and filled with exotic flavor. Especially the cassava. I think this is my favorite so far. It is funny because I don't like tapioca, which is made from the root of the cassava plant.
Cassava is an interesting plant. As I said, the dish was filled with flavor and spicy. There was a thickness to the texture of the dish, with the sauce saturating each grain of rice to ensure a dish filled with flavor. I wish I could compare it to a familiar dish, but unfortunately I cannot. I can say it is interesting to note if the cassava leaf is not cooked properly it can make you violently ill and consumption of the raw leaf can kill you. The leaf contains a chemical that leads to the creation of cyanide.
As I mentioned earlier, the meal is prepared in the early afternoon. Everyone will eat as soon as the dish is ready, but no one puts away the food afterwards. Since there is no central source of electricity, there is no concept of refrigeration or food storage. Instead, you leave the meal covered for the day and eat whenever you are hungry. Typically, Liberians eat twice daily.
Further, meals are not a family affair. The men will eat separate from the women and children. Men will sit in front of the home, talking about the topics of the day while the women and children eat in the back, near the preparation area. I'm not sure what they talk about, if anything, since I was never back there during a meal.
When we were in Zleh Town, the pastor of Trinity Lutheran invited us to visit his home. This, it turns out, means he wanted to serve us a meal. We sat in the main room, where the pastor's mother dished us the food, first with the rice in the bowl and then the sauce on top. This was the "greens" I had mentioned earlier. Now, this dish sounds bland, but it was by far the spiciest meal I had all week. If it weren't for 1.5L bottles of water, I don't think I could've lasted throughout the meal. Greens, in Liberian, mean the leaves of the potato finely chopped and served with oil, typically palm oil, and meat. As you can guess, I had never had the leaf of a potato before. Tastes pretty good if you ask me.
As soon as the woman served our dishes, she disappeared. We were left to eat alone and only saw her again after we had finished so she could collect the dishes and disappear again. The roles of men and women in this society are very defined and rarely blurred. Even when guests arrive, the men and women do not eat together. It was not uncommon for a woman to greet me, talk for a moment and then disappear to the back to eat while the men stayed up front.
I asked Joe about this later, and he said this was how the culture exists. It is a regimented division between the men and the women. He had mentioned it can lead to problems, especially in dating. I wasn't able to ask much more, but he touched on it briefly, stating that the couple will often be separated from each other during the date because of the requirements.
Somehow, I don't see how many young Americans, myself included among them, would find this aspect of Liberia culture enjoyable.
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