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.

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.

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.

Children Ask the Darndest Things

+15:00 Zwedru~

I revisited Nixon School today. The classrooms are filled with wonderful children with highly inquisitive minds. Joe and I met with each classroom this morning, but this time it was for me to talk to them a bit and to answer whatever questions they may have. I spoke a little about where I am from, and thanked them for affording me some time to talk to them. Then the floor was open for questions. Some were the usual questions you would expect to hear, while others were a little harder to answer.

The students, as well as the teachers and any other person I've ran into, wanted to know what I did for a living - which isn't really easy to answer when you are in a country who doesn't have researchers or analysts or political workers. The other questions would flow at nearly the same time in each classroom; am I married, do I have kids, where do I live in America? When they found out how old I was, the classroom would erupt in laughter. Not because it was strange to have a 28-year-old visit them, but because they didn't expect someone so young to be done with high school and college. Some of the kids in the higher grades were near my age.

When we moved to schooling, the real differences between schools in Liberia and America were revealed. They were surprised to hear that I would be the one who had to move between classrooms for each subject, and they thought it was amazing that I didn't have to take the meticulous notes they did because I had textbooks.

While those questions were fun to answer and enjoyable to discuss, others were hard to find the right response. Each class from fifth grade to tenth grade had at least one student who wanted to know what I could do for them. Some thought I was a missionary or pastor who arrived to give money or build a school. None could understand that I was just a visitor (more on that in a second) who came to witness the work being done.

These children aren't asking this question because they want something from me. They are asking it because various organizations - namely USAID, UNMIL (UN Mission in Liberia), and the EU - are trying to help but at a detriment to Liberia. They hand out money (as I mentioned earlier) but don't hand out opportunities to learn. The churches and other non-government organizations are doing great work but they can only go so far. Their funding is limited and their reach is restricted by the poor road conditions throughout the country (more on that in a few days). More is needed so people won't grow up asking how will you help me and start asking what can we do to help ourselves.

Because of this situation, when I brought the money raised from St. Mark's, we didn't tell them it came from me or that I brought the money. Instead, Joe would explain that Americans who care about what is going on through the Liberian Children's Ministry have provided the funding necessary to build two new school buildings and add on to another school (the money I brought from the church provided the half of the funding). This way, when others come to visit, they will not expect anything similar because I didn't bring the money, but the organization raised the money.

On another note, last night was fun. Joe, the Dweh's (the pastor and his family) and a couple of other visitors sat outside all night and talked. Most of it was Joe talking about America since he can understand them better than I and speaks their dialect much easier than I could ever imagine speaking. Every time Joe would mention something mundane for us (mowing the lawn or taking the trash out), they would be amazed at America's lifestyle. Then whenever Joe talked about an aspect of American life, they would be amazed at how much we could have and how much more we wanted.

Not only was it interesting to see how two cultures try to understand each other, it was also eye-opening to realize how little we really need to get by in America. There is no power here in the daytime, and only at night if the family can afford the fuel. There is no running water, nor indoor plumbing for most. No X-Box, TVs, DVDs, sports cars (or cars unless it is a government vehicle or taxi), decorations, sound systems, or any other kind of toy. Instead, there is the family, a roof, food to eat and a means to help other friends or family. I'm amazed at it all, but also thankful for what I have been blessed to have.

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It's amazing to think that in just over a month from now I'll be in Liberia. I will have slept past the hangover of election season, figured out the political makeup of the United States, and taken my first international flight (which I really am excited about since I have always heard how smooth the flights are over the ocean).

I received an e-mail yesterday that puts into perspective how close things are getting. The director of world missions at our church provided an update of things to come. This Sunday, the director of the Liberian mission will be speaking at our church and I was invited to join the rest of the mission committee to a lunch afterwards. Then, on the first of November, I'm going to be attended all the services so the church can send me off on their first trip to Liberia.

I am torn in this situation. Part of me is excited to be taking this trip alone. I'm taking a great step forward by heading out without any real familiarity, no comfort of home or indication of America around. The other part is a little sad that those with whom I've been working towards this trip will not be joining me for various reasons beyond their control. Getting to know these people, even slightly, helped guide me towards taking this trip. But, that is what happened. And in the long run, I won't regret it.

Everything that happens around us dictates our decisions and shapes what experiences we'll gain. That is understood by most everyone. But the way the uncertainty can grow into a great fortune is truly profound. I feel so fortunate to dive into this moment in my life 100 percent. I won't be leaning on anyone else nor can I try to create a shared experience because no one will be around for me to lean on.

What makes it even more intriguing is that so many people at my church will want to know about my experience. I will be their eyes and ears in Liberia, telling them about the great work the mission has been doing in providing the children an opportunity to succeed in their lives and relaying the sights and sounds of families who have a renewed hope because of the hard work of the teachers and the mission director. It will be amazing, and I cannot think of anything else I would rather do in November. I hope others will enjoy experiencing this trip through my words and photos.