The last couple of weeks have been heartbreaking, uplifting, frustrating, and painful all at the same time. My “mother” in the villages was rushed to the hospital unexpectedly with severe bleeding. To sum it all up, I am saying prayers tonight in thanks that I have never needed to receive medical care in a developing country. Check out her story and mine at:
http://www.onevillagepartners.org/resources/blog/
10 MONTHS! Seems like a extreme amount of time especially when it means time spent away from my mom, family, and old friends. I have now been in Sierra Leone for ten crazy months. It has been months full of sadness and happiness, loneliness and friendship, boredom and business; all things that I would never change. Coming to Sierra Leone was the best decision I could have made and up until this point, I wouldn’t change it for anything.
After re-reading a few of my blog posts, I realized that I have rarely talked about my job. Woops! Here are a few quick highlights of the things we have been working on in Sierra Leone…
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LIBRARY
The villages that I serve in are given the opportunity to submit proposals for new projects. Over the past couple years, we have received many requests for a library. After much patience (and lots of work), we built a great new library.
In true OVP fashion, it was not a traditional NGO construction project. Myself and our education staff spent four months sensitizing the community about the project; gaining support to build the physical structure, acquiring land from the village chiefs, educating community members on the benefits of a library and in the end, signing an extensive community agreement. It took me an entire afternoon to convince the village chief to stamp his fingerprint on that document. As an illiterate older man, he feared that I was making him sign a witchcraft agreement or the rights to his home and village. At first, it seemed like a simple contract to me—asking community members to lead all construction, upkeep and maintenance of the library—but the sight of chief Ngombu pacing back and forth, arms folded across his chest will forever remind me of the struggles that an illiterate man faces.
I am happy to report there is now a trained female(!) librarian and full-time caretaker. Each community family is required to pay 2,000 Le (50 cents) every year for maintenance and repairs as well as attend a small training on the proper use of books. This week was the first week of community training and so far so good.
Check out some pictures of how it turned out!
Partnership Library
Tables, chairs and solar lights in the new Partnership Library!
Quick shout out to my Aunt Lynette and her school in Waterloo, IA who donated 100s of books to make this library possible. Thank you all so much from the bottom of my, chief Ngombu, and the Foindu villagers’ hearts!!
Chief Ngombu watching over the library construction with two village elders.
LATRINES
I was told by a returned Peace Corps volunteer before I left for Sierra Leone that whatever you do, do not start with a latrine project. Well, I couldn’t really avoid it but I would pass that advice along just like that RPCV did for me.
When I first arrived, I spent the first five months working with OVPs community health workers and income officers to create a model latrine that OVPs US team deemed sustainable and affordable and at the same time the Sierra Leonean community deemed aesthetically appealing and functional in the long term.
After five months and what seems like 100s of community meetings, this is what we came up with…
Outside view of latrine
Inside view of the latrine.
We have now constructed 125 latrines and will have completed all 300 by the end of September. Not a day passes by that I don’t hear people discussing the latrines. The community could not be happier about the latrines especially the blue, green, and pink (yes, pink) colors. Latrine recipients are required to dig a 15 to 20 foot hole as well as provide al local materials (sand, rocks, stones, and wood). We provide more expensive materials (cement, iron rods, and roofing) and a contractor to help construct the latrine.
Thanks to Edina Rotary, Rotary International, and Bo Rotary for making this HUGE project possible.
STAFF MONITORING AND EVALUTION
Jumping into Sierra Leone was definitely a cultural challenge but the most challenging professional thing has been to manage 28 staff. The staff could not be more gracious, caring, and hospitable however most are all barely literate, males who have never held any position outside of a local farmer. As a stubborn, type-A female who tends to get overly passionate and aggressive and tends to sets barely attainable expectations, you can probably see why this has created a few challenges.
In order to motivate staff in a professional manner, we have worked to set up a new system of monitoring. Each staff is now observed at least four times a month by either me or OVPs program manager. Staff members are either awarded a star or a strike after the observation; strike represents pay decrease and a one-one-one meeting to improve work ethic while stars represent the potential for a salary raise after six months. Simple but so far effective.
It is incredible how motivating the potential for a raise can be. After one month of evaluating 28 staff, there have only been three strikes given. To me, it is a huge success. I am sure there are more challenges to come but I can’t wait to see the changes that occur as our staff begin to understand their full potential in these communities. I see their potential and know that if they are able to realize and practice their full potential, it would me changing and potentially saving the lives of 100s of our village friends.
Staff photo including the summer interns and even my lovely dog Milo!
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These three projects are just a highlight of the things I have tackled with the help of 28 determined staff. This upcoming year is going to be full of even more exciting projects, additional and new challenges, and hopefully the opportunity to expand to three more small villages.
Here are two pictures I thought you would all like seeing! ENJOY.
I didn't know tarantulas existed in Sierra Leone until this little guy fell out of the thatch roof of my baffa (outdoor hut).My office companion for the last few days!
After six months without any Western visitors, I have had a month full of them. My boss Sara came at the end of May, followed by my sister and two friends along with four summer interns, and finally OVP’s board chair along with 17 Blake students. Although I have enjoyed all their visits, it has definitely been a weird experience to have a bunch of pumois around. To break up the monotony of my own writing, I asked my friends to write out a few stories. Their stories are below. The trip with the Blake students has its own blog with stories and lots of pictures. Feel free to check it out at http://onevillagepartners.blogspot.com.
Sorry for the delay in posting Joe and Emily’s stories. I had what Sierra Leoneans call “walka fast” in Krio for the last few days. I fully understood the meaning of the phrase last night as I ran every twenty minutes between the makeshift bed I created on my front porch veranda to my latrine about ten feet away. Boy did I miss good old modern plumbing.
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Storytelling – A Guest Blog by Joe Wax
Background
For those following Kari’s blog who don’t know me, I am Joe Wax. I am friend of Kari’s from college and when she told me that she was moving to Sierra Leone for two years I promised I would visit her while she was there. I recently had a chance to fulfill that promise by spending two weeks there along with Kari’s sister Sarah, and my girlfriend Emily. This posting is an opportunity Kari gave me to share some of my experience.
Introduction
It is currently about 7 pm central time on June 4 and I am waiting in the Chicago O’ Hare airport for a flight to Minneapolis. I have been traveling for around 30 hours. A short while ago I heard a chicken clucking from a nearby gate. This continued for a while. At one point I physically turned around and was about to yell at someone to shut the chicken up when it hit me. There are no chickens allowed in the Chicago O’ Hare airport! What I heard was in fact a very large, southern woman laughing (No insult intended for anyone who happens to be large, southern, and/or a woman). It was then that I really realized how far I had come from home…
Foday
One morning in Jokibu (the village Kari lives and works in), we were heading down to the school to do laundry at the well near there, and of course, to see the school. After being there a while, Emily and I decided to head back a little sooner than the rest of the group. Kari asked a little boy named Foday to show us the way back so that we wouldn’t get lost. As we walked down the road, Foday walked alongside us. I could tell that he was looking me up and down almost as if he was sizing me up. After a few seconds, I saw a flicker of decision in his eye, quickly followed his hand shooting up and latching onto mine. He didn’t let go the entire way home.
Over the following days in the village, Foday and I continued to hang out. We played Frisbee, kicked the soccer ball around with the other boys, planted a pineapple, and just hung out with him sitting on my lap while the other boys watched enviously. One day, out of just some natural materials he found in the woods, Foday constructed some stilts. As Foday’s neighbor Soa said, “Foday is a very clever boy!”
We were told that it isn’t a great idea to give things to the villagers as it can perpetuate the aid dependency problem they already face. However, with a few of the kids, we couldn’t resist. I had brought some hot wheel cars along and planned to give one to Foday on our last morning there. I carried the toy in the pocket all morning hoping to see Foday and give it to him but I never saw him. As we traveled away from the village, I felt a deep sadness setting. I later realized this sadness had less to do with the toy car and more to do with the fact that I didn’t get to say good bye. (Added note: I was told that Sarah tracked down Foday before she left and gave him a car telling him it was from me. Apparently he was falling over with excitement over it. Sarah- Thank you for your kindness.)
The Snake Story
We spent several nights camping out on a nature preserve called Tiwai Island. Nature was peaceful, wildlife was beautiful, and the river was majestic, but I will leave that for someone else to describe. I want to talk about snakes.
One evening, the girls were getting ready for bed and I was…well I was peeing. We were sleeping in tents on a concrete slab with a thigh-high concrete wall around it. I was being somewhat lazy and was just simply peeing over the wall at the back of it. While I was doing my business, I glanced down and realized there was a snake sitting on top of the wall. Let me say that again: THERE WAS A SNAKE ON THE WALL! Unfortunately for me, it somehow had maneuvered itself to only about 2 inches away from my….’cash and prizes.’ I naturally let out a yelp and jumped away from it. I managed to get away from it and finish doing my business, but my yelp attracted inquiries from Emily. In a moment of sheer stupidity, I told her it was a mosquito that had startled me. I am still not sure if she actually bought that, or if she just didn’t want to know what I had actually run into out there, but she didn’t question it.
Malaria – My experience/clearing misconceptions
Doxycycline. Check. Mosquito Nets. Check. Bug Spray. Check. Managing to still catch Malaria despite taking precautions. Check. I should note that I didn’t actually get diagnosed with Malaria. I came down with something. Lots of achiness, bad headaches, chills, an incredible fever, and some vomiting. The opinion the locals who have had it before was that I had malaria. For anyone worried about getting it, here’s my stance: It’s obviously not fun, but it isn’t that terrible. Kind of like getting the flu, you just feel like crap for a few days and then you are ok again.
The unfortunately common response I get when I tell people I got malaria: “O my god! You’re still alive? I could never go to Africa because I’d be too worried I would catch something like that.” For some reason people keep asking me if I thought I was going to die, but let me be clear: At no point did I feel like my life was threatened. While malaria can be fatal and shouldn’t be taken lightly, I am guessing most who die from it are very young, very old, and/or already have a weakened immune system. While I would strongly urge precautions being taken to prevent such things from happening, as well as just general safe behavior, I would recommend not letting something like this stop anyone from visiting Sierra Leone (or anywhere else for that matter).
Moto Rides!
One of my favorite things to do in Sierra Leone was ride around on the motos. Riding motos was probably not the safest thing we did there, but riding on a moto taxi is cheap, efficient, and flat out fun. These rides were also probably the only time during our 2 week stay when we managed to stop sweating. If there are any worried mothers out there, I would like to note that we never went terribly fast. If I had a Leone for every time I heard someone on a moto yell to their driver “Small Small!” (means go slower), I probably could afford to go visit Kari again.
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Storytelling – A Guest Blog by Emily Flink
I’ve now been back in America for a little over a week since my trip to Sierra Leone and there are a few things that I know I will never forget about my trip:
Most importantly, I will never forget the people. From the moment I stepped off the plane, I felt so welcomed and impressed by Sierra Leoneans. Kari has some wonderful friends and co-workers who went out of their way to make my visit to Sierra Leone great. Just to mention a few: Jennah, Joseph, Joseph, Yusuf, Baindu, Abu Bakar, and Jesmy. Whether it w as helping to show us around, letting us stay at their homes, transporting us from one place to another, cooking food for us, or something else, these people helped to make my trip to Sierra Leone something I will always remember.
Of all the people I met, the kids were some of the most fun. It seemed like no matter where I went, I could hear “Pumoi, Pumoi” (white man) being shouted at me from some little boy or girl who just wanted a wave or a smile from me. It was amazing how just a little attention could go so far with the kids. One day we walked down to the school in Jokibu and kicked a soccer ball around with a group of children before school started and then watched them line up and sing songs. They were so excited to have the opportunity to spend some time with us.
Finally, the thing that impressed me the most about the people of Sierra Leone were the things they were capable of doing. I am still in awe of all the things people can carry on their heads, no matter how heavy or how far they’re walking. Or their resourcefulness: my flip flop broke while walking through the jungle, and my guide quickly found a vine from the jungle and easily fixed it in a matter of minutes. One woman who really impressed me was Baindu (Kari’s Mende mama): Baindu cooks and cleans for Kari just about every day, takes care of 4 children without any help, maintains a “small” farm (it was at least 2-3 acres), and sells goods at the market every Friday in Bunumbu.
The people of Sierra Leone lead very different lives from Americans and often times hold very different beliefs, but many Americans could learn a thing or two from Sierra Leoneans’ friendliness, resourcefulness, and ability to live in sometimes very difficult situations.
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There was something Kari said to me at the very beginning of our trip that really stayed with me. She said “The trash here is more apparent, but in America we have a lot more and we put it in one HUGE pile.” Although it’s more typical to see old plastic packets of water (they don’t drink out of water bottles there), bags, and more strewn on the streets in Sierra Leone, the people there are MUCH less wasteful than Americans. And in a world where global warming is becoming ever more apparent, it’s sad the developed world leads such unsustainable lives. A few things that really stood out to me as key lifestyle differences that led to a much more sustainable environment in Sieraa Leone:
1. Sierra Leone has very limited electricity. Although the inability to just flip a light switch took some getting used to, in some ways, the lack of electricity was really nice. For example, you could see tons of stars in the sky every night and you slept more normal hours, getting up with the rising sun and going to sleep early into the night. Being in Sierra Leone really made me realize how much I take for granted the ability to do so many things like watch TV, use my computer, see in the dark, and many other things.
2. I was amazed at my ability to “shower” with only a bucket full of water and to feel just as clean as I would have had I showered in my bathroom at home. It took some getting used to: using a smaller cup to pour water over myself, but it made me realize how much water the typical American wastes in a day. Just think: a 10-15 minute shower in the morning which uses gallons of water per minute, numerous flushes of a toilet throughout the day, running water in the sink to wash our hands or do the dishes, and more. That’s not taking into account the water we use regularly in the washing machine and dishwasher. Or the wasted water used on our lawns to get perfectly green grass. I would venture a guess that a typical Sierra Leonean uses under 2 buckets of water a day. I don’t even want to guess how many I use in America in a day.
3. Another key difference I noticed was that in Sierra Leone, most people have to walk everywhere. Especially in the villages. For nearly every person in Sierra Leone, hopping in your car to go somewhere just isn’t an option. For one, they don’t have the roads to support this behavior. Secondly, most people can barely afford to feed their families, let alone pay for a car. So people walk two miles to the next village. This has always been a part of their life, so they don’t think anything of it. If people do manage to find a mode of transportation, it’s never a “comfortable” ride. They cram 3 people on a motorbike that can only fit two. Or 7 people in a car made for 5. Or 20 people in a van built for 10. As a result, each person’s carbon footprint is tiny.
Now, that’s not to say that Sierra Leone isn’t without its problems: Because they have no method of garbage disposal, the garbage that doesn’t naturally decompose is burned, releasing many harmful toxins into the atmosphere. And there’s no such thing as emission standards on vehicles there. It wasn’t uncommon to see huge clouds of exhaust coming out of a car and to breath in that exhaust while riding in one.
However, with the developing world striving to be like the developed world, countries like the US should lead the charge in taking up more sustainable practices, so that when a country like Sierra Leone starts to get more electricity, for example, their carbon footprint doesn’t grow exponentially. If we can pass clean energy practices onto the developing world, we would make the world a much cleaner place.
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One thing you realize pretty quickly in Sierra Leone is this: transportation is not easy. There’s no such thing as jumping in your car to go somewhere. A paved road is rare to see. Flat tires occur very frequently. And it’s by no means comfortable.
I will never forget my trip from Bo to Tiwai Island in a small van. Kari, Sarah, Joe, and I took a compact car from Kenema to Bo, but we had to find a different ride from there to Tiwai Island, because the car couldn’t handle the off-roading. So we bought “two” spots each in a van. We agreed to pay 30,000 Leones each, or about $6. This was much cheaper than $50 or more each to hire a car.
I would say the van was about the size of an old VW camper van but with 5 or so rows in it, on which the driver squeezed 4-5 people. After sitting for over an hour waiting for the driver to fill all the seats, we were finally off. We had squeezed maybe 18 people in with bags of rice and other food and strapped on more bags and containers to the top. The van was covered in dirt and dust on the inside and out and the air smelled of sweat and food.
As we drove out of town and through villages, the driver would pull up to people and ask if they wanted a ride to our final destination. If yes, they would squeeze in. Joe and I lucked out and got the two seats in the front next to the driver, but it quickly became apparent that Kari and Sarah’s “two” seats were anything but. But we had no other option for the 2 ½ hour drive ahead of us so we all just rolled with the punches.
Wet season was just beginning, and just as we were leaving town, it started to pour with rain. Since all Sierra Leoneans are used to incredible heat, they all freeze with the slightest drop in temperature. So of course they closed all the windows, which naturally fogged up immediately now that we had over 20 people crammed into the tiny van.
Sitting in the front, I got the front row seat to the bumps, rocks, and puddles we were driving over. And the hydroplaning the van started to do. I grabbed Joe’s hand and pictured headlines about 4 Americans dying in a car accident in Sierra Leone while all the Sierra Leonean passengers shouted at the driver to slow down in Krio and Mende.
Miraculously we made it to Tiwai Island with no problems, except frustration at the driver for making us pay such a high price when we clearly did not get two seats each (even in Sierra Leonean terms). We got into a fight with the driver about this in the village, and ended up paying him the full price, but Kari scared him first:
In Sierra Leone, people believe that twins have special powers. As Sarah and Kari are both twins, everyone was amazed by them. So when Kari paid our driver, she left him with “You know, in America twins have special powers too, and you had better be careful tomorrow.” The look on his face was priceless.
Although it was a scary and uncomfortable ride, I just laugh about it now. I survived it, and I was able to see how a true African lives. There’s no such thing as buying a plane ticket or anything else for them.
Transportation in Sierra Leone is anything but easy. It definitely makes you realize that the ride in the back of your friend’s car with no leg room for 15 minutes is anything but uncomfortable.
By the way, we hired motorbikes to get back from Tiwai Island and avoided the same horrendous trip in a van again.
To start, I am sorry for the lack of posts lately. Every time something interesting happens I think, I should really put that on my blog but then a few days pass and more things interesting happen. Eventually I get overwhelmed and don’t know what to post. From now on, I am going to try a different method—post smaller things more frequently. We’ll see how it goes. Here is a start. By the way, thanks to my mom for posting pictures. Sorry they don’t have descriptions; my internet is not fast enough to edit them.
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I believe you can learn a lot of things about a culture from three different ceremonies: the celebration of birth, marriage, and death. Two days ago, I got to experience the saddest but most powerful of the three.
Yusuf, the program manager of OneVillage Partners, has three children and about five adopted children. In Sierra Leone, it is customary for brothers and sisters to give their children to their siblings if they are better-off. Because Yusuf holds a top position in an organization, his brothers and sisters have given him five additional children. Sadly, one of Yusuf’s adopted daughters died yesterday. Her name was Sattu. She was 10 years old and in class three. Like all of Yusuf’s children, she was well-behaved, polite, and always excited to greet me when I reached home. About six days ago, Sattu got sick with cholera. Despite my encouragement to seek medical treatment, Yusuf’s family insisted she would be fine at home. After five days of her condition worsening, they finally agreed to take her to the hospital in Bunumbu but she died within the hour.
Yusuf’s house is situated just below my house at the bottom of a small hill. When the news reached his house that Sattu died, I knew within minutes. A friend in the village once told me, women in Sierra Leone don’t know how to cry. Instead they burst into what sounds like a mourning song. When the news reached the house, I instantly heard the song being shouted by the five women at the house.
“Way-Oh, Wo-Yeah-Oh, Way-Oh. Way-Oh, Sattu, Way-Oh. Way-Oh, Wo-Yeah-Oh, Way-Oh.”
It was heartbreaking and at the same time sort of beautiful. After consulting a friend about the proper way to show my sympathy, I was instructed to just go sit at the house. I went down to the house and sat on the ground next to the ever expanding group of women huddled around Yusuf’s mother, Lucia, and wife, Fatmata. Everyone cried and sang, “Way-Oh, Wo-Yeah-Oh, Way-Oh.” “Way-Oh, Sattu, Way-Oh.” Luckily, I sat next to the one woman in the group that cried familiar tears. She sat silently and tried to wipe the streaks coming down her face. I reached over and rubbed her back slowly trying to remember exactly how to say, “I am sorry, I am here for you,” in Mende.
After about an hour of sitting and listening to the cries and songs, I retreated back to my house to observe from my veranda. By this time, most of the community had arrived because the body was now being transported from Bunumbu. The chiefs and elders were all there sitting on a long bench, the women had gathered in the back of the house to comfort Lucia and Fatmata, and the men were gathered in the back, chatting softly about the misfortune of losing such a young child.
When the body arrived, the songs started again but louder and filled with a story. Baindu translated for me. They were signing about Sattu. “Way-Oh, She was such a good girl, Way-Oh.” “Way-Oh, She always studied hard, Way-Oh.” Way-Oh, she always helped her mother, Way-Oh.” And it went on and on. I couldn’t help but cry. This was a young girl who really did not have to die. She died of cholera and malaria. Two diseases that do not exist in America. Two diseases that are easily cured with simple medicine. Two diseases that kill thousands of children in Sierra Leone each year. Two diseases that will inevitably claim the lives of at least ten more children in Jokibu this year.
After the songs, the chiefs, religious leaders, elders, Yusuf, and Sattu’s biological father said a short prayer over her body. Then she was immediately brought to the cemetery to be buried. Now the real funeral will start. On the third day, tomorrow, the first ceremony will take place. The community will be invited to come to Yusuf’s house to support his family in the grieving process. On the seventh day the same thing will happen and finally on the fortieth day the grieving will end with a long Muslim ceremony.
As I said before, you can tell a lot about a culture based on those three ceremonies. As I observed from my house yesterday, I knew I would never forget the moment I was watching. Yusuf, Sattu’s biological father, the religious leaders, the elders, the chiefs all standing hand-in-hand in prayer. Lucia and Fatmata standing nearby surrounded by hundreds of women from the village, and the men standing silently behind Yusuf with their heads bowed and lips moving slowly along with the prayer. An entire community had dropped everything; their work, their cooking, their responsibilities, to be with Yusuf’s family in that moment. They had come to show their support even if it just meant bowing their heads for a short prayer, patting Lucia and Fatmata on the back, and shaking Yusuf’s had on the way out. It was a simple act but one of the most powerful things I have ever seen. That moment was the essence, the definition of community.
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When I first arrived in the villages, I fell in love with a little boy by the name of Thomas. He is about twelve years old and is so affectionate—he always wants to hold my hand when I am walking through Pujehun, his small village. Thomas was diagnosed with diabetes about four years ago and since then has been in and out of local clinics. His family like most families in Sierra Leone do not have the money to treat his illness properly so they have improvised by using a combination of local medicines and clinic visits when he gets really sick.
When I arrived in Sierra Leone, Thomas weighed about 35 pounds. His skeleton-like body consistently almost brought me to tears. Luckily, after networking with friends from the US and friends from Sierra Leone, I was able to find a hospital that offers free medicine for diabetic patients. It is in a village called Ponguma (about a two and a half hour motorbike ride from my village). They were willing to take Thomas as long as he could stay for a few weeks to regain his strength. It took me three months to convince his family to go but finally last week, they agreed.
Yesterday, I went to visit Thomas in Ponguma and it made every small frustration, every moment of anger, every moment of homesickness, every moment of loneliness that I have experienced in Sierra Leone disappear. The two hours I spent with Thomas were some of the most joy filled moments of my life. He didn’t know I was coming so when my colleague Joseph and I walked into the male ward of the hospital, he could not contain his joy. He ran at full-speed and didn’t stop until he collided against me to wrap his arms tightly around my waist. Upon seeing him, I have to admit, I shed a tear; just one tear though. I was not about to show a sign of weakness in front of a boy who had the courage and strength to survive diabetes for the past four years. I quickly wiped the tear away and squeezed Thomas’s small hand tightly into my palm. He didn’t let go for the rest of the time I was there.
We walked together through the breezy corridors of the hospital. As we passed nurses, doctors, and patients, Thomas would stop them and introduce me. “Nya padi, Sao,” he would say energetically. It means my friend, Sao (my Mende name). When we finished the tour, he had to eat his fourth of six daily meals. Because his body is so malnourished he eats three meals of bulgar, three plumpy nut bars, and three rice porridge meals every day. It is surprising that he eats so much because his body is so small. I can wrap my thumb and pointer finger around his shoulder with my thumb overlapping my pointer finger to past the first knuckle. During the meal, we sat with our feet dangling over the edge of a small ledge. He rested his arm in my lap and by the end of his meal, rested his head against my side and nearly fell asleep. Although he hardly speaks English and I hardly speak Mende, we both knew the joy that moment held.
Joseph joined us after about twenty minutes and translated a few things Thomas wanted to tell me. He said he hates the porridge but he forces himself to eat it because he promised me before he left the village that he would follow all the doctor’s orders. He said that he is so excited to return to the village so that he can start attending school again. How cute is that?
When we left, Thomas hugged me so long I thought I would have to peal his arms away from me in order to get back on the motorbike. I was sad to leave but I smiled the entire two and a half hours home.
I am so sorry it took me this long to post another entry. This is a long one but I hope you enjoy it. Also, I want to give my big brother Tim a shout-out. Happy belated Birthday Tim! I hope you had a fun and relaxing day.
CHRISTMAS CELEBRATIONS!
MERRY BELATED CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR!! I hope you all were able to celebrate with you families/friends. I had a wonderful Christmas filled with some very interesting adventures.
Milo and Aningo
I was feeling a little lonely on Christmas Eve so I purchased a few friends. Meet Milo and Aningo. At just 15,000 Leones ($3.50), they are the best Christmas presents I could have bought.
Jokibu, my new home, is predominantly Muslim however Christmas was celebrated by everyone. From about 7 AM on the 25th until the morning hours of the 26th radios were blasting, generators were up and running and people were dancing, singing, and eating. I woke up around 7 AM and headed off to church. I went to a Methodist church in Foindu which is a community about 5 miles away. I had gone to the tailor the week before and had an African dress made just for the occasion. Church was interesting to say the least. A pumoi (white person) at church is a big attraction but a pumoi in an African dress, clapping, singing and dancing at church might as well have been an alien from another planet. People stared at me throughout the entire service.
Baindu and Kari on Christmas
After church, I came home and ate lunch with a few friends. I invited Baindu’s family to join me for lunch because they are the closest thing to family I have here. I had bought beef the day before so they were all very excited to eat with me. It was only the second time I have eaten meat since being here so I definitely enjoyed it and most of the villagers only eat cow beef once every couple of years. Unfortunately, there isn’t really such thing as a butcher so the entire animal is eaten—intestines, bones, organs, stomach, everything is just chopped up and thrown into the pot. Despite the interesting texture of some of the meat, I still really enjoyed it.
After eating and dancing to some American hip-hop (Baindu’s favorite), a few more of my friends came over to invite me to a dry outing. We drove about 15 miles away and stopped in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. We started walking into the jungle and about ¼ of a mile in, there was a huge clearing with a DJ, four giant loud speakers and about 200 people dancing among the trees. It was BEATIFUL! We danced for about four hours and drank COLD (!!) drinks. By the time we were done, it was about 8 PM and the night was definitely still young. I had made friends with a few visitors from Freetown so they invited me back to Bunumbu for dinner. I had spicy goat soup. Meat two times in one day!! Plus, they weren’t Muslim so that meant I got to enjoy goat soup AND wine AND a cold beer. At around 11AM we left for a party and stayed out dancing until about 4 AM. It was by far the craziest Christmas I have ever experienced! Not even comparable to the Foley Family’s church, food, and present routine.
EVERYTHING ELSE BETWEEN MY LAST POST AND CHRISTMAS
So much has happened since I last posted that I don’t even really know where to begin. Instead of writing one long story, I am going to write a few short stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.
Winter Jackets
A few weeks ago, I decided to visit the district capital Kailahun. It is about a two hour motorbike journey on pretty rough terrain. I was traveling with OneVillage Partner’s Education Coordinator Joseph and the day before we left he gave me explicit instructions to wear jeans, closed-toe shoes, and a sweater. Just the thought of wearing those clothes in 90 degree weather made me nauseous but regardless, I was going to follow his instructions. I woke up the next morning, showered (to make sure I was as cool as possible), got dressed in my sweltering attire and headed down to Joseph’s house.
He came out of his house wearing two pairs of pants, three shirts, and a giant winter jacket. To my horror he also had an extra giant winter jacket in his hand. As the words, “this is for you,” rolled out of his mouth, I couldn’t help but laugh. Sweat had already started to bead on my forehead and I knew I would be hot in these clothes even with the breeze from the motorbike. A small crowd had gathered to see me off and despite their encouragement, I absolutely refused to wear the jacket. I told Joseph I would die of heat if I put it on. Not only did he laugh but the entire crowd laughed. A few of them scurried off to tell the neighbors and friends about the pumoi’s comment. Joseph explained, “Africans, we fear cold. If we don’t wear many layers on a long journey, we get cold and sick. You can’t get too hot and sick.” I finally convinced them not to wear the jacket.
Joseph was still cold when we arrived in Kailahun and I got so hot that I had rolled my pants up to my knees and pushed my sleeves up to my shoulders. Haha. The day I start wearing a winter jacket in this heat is the day I truly am an African woman.
Cat Soup
While enjoying a cold beer with a co-worker, I start to ask about family pets. He told me, “I have had many cats but every time I leave for the weekend my wife eats it.” (Long, long, long pause with shocked look on my face). He said it with such a nonchalant attitude that I thought maybe I misheard him. Between the loud music and his soft voice it was very possible. I quickly wiped the expression off my face and changed the subject.
The next morning, I woke up thinking wow, did one beer really affect me that much! Did he really tell me that his family ate their cat? At breakfast I asked again and the response was the same. He told me that meat is meat and when you want some, the family cat is sometimes a good option. People often tell me that I wear my emotions on my face. If you can imagine a facial expression for disgust, horror, shock, surprise, and disbelief all at once, that is what my face looked like.
Punishment for Kids
Neighbor Kids
If the children in the US were punished the way children in Sierra Leone are punished, I would have been unemployed from the age of 10 to 20. It is not uncommon to see school teachers hitting students with canes and parents or any community member using the closest hard object to deliver a blow. The canning makes me a little sad but I have to laugh at some of the more creative ways Sierra Leoneans punish children. In school, if children act out or interrupt too many times, they are asked to go find a large stick in the nearby forest. When the child returns, they have to hold the stick above their head for one hour. I tried it for about five minutes and my arms were on fire! If a student requires a less severe punishment, they are required to do pumps. The child must cross their arms in front of their chest and hold their ears. Then they do a squat all the way to the ground and stand back up. This is repeated 50 to 100 times or until the teacher is satisfied. Usually they have to do this facing a wall so there is no distractions.
Dancing on Stage
There has been a lot of celebrations for the past few weeks because of Christmas and New Years. A couple weeks ago, there was a big artist brought in from Kenema to Jokibu. His name is Bekah Sonnoh and from what everyone told me, he is considered the best dancer in Sierra Leone. At around 2 AM, he came on stage and he was definitely a good dancer. After a few songs he asked for a chair to be brought up on stage. Then he asked for one female volunteer. After choosing a female from the crowd, he looked out at me and said, “is that a pumoi?” (Oh s*&@, was all I could think). “Pumoi, come on stage.”
I think my face was as red as a ripe tomato. I was sitting on stage, in shorts, on a child’s stool (my knees were nearly touching my cheeks), trying not to fall sideways when the stage swayed from Bekah’s dancing. On top of all that, the music skipped twice and both times they restarted the song. I must have looked absolutely ridiculous because people laughed the entire time. I was so happy when he took my hand and led me off the stage.
Twins
Sierra Leone has a lot of twins and triplets. I am not exactly sure why but I am convinced there is literally something in the water because it seems like every family has twins. Whenever twins are born they are given the same name—Sao (pronounced sow—rhymes with cow) is for the first born, Gina is for the second born, and Gbessey (pronounced Bishee) is for the third (if it is triplets). Because I am a twin, my Mende name is now Sao.
The best part about being a twin here is that people think you possess extra powers. They say all twins have something growing in their stomach, they have an extra set of eyes that open at night or whenever they are sleeping, and they possess the powers of a witch. One man was telling me that even when twins are small babies they possess these powers. It is very dangerous to make a twin mad. That is why twins are often larger than other kids because no one wants to take too large of a portion of food. The twin must eat the most so that he/she does not get mad at the rest of the family. Haha. I have definitely had a little fun using my “twin powers” here.
Weather
Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night freezing. I could stop shivering, my nose was frozen, and even Milo and Aningo were shivering. I looked at my thermometer and it was 65 degrees. Haha. I think I would die if I was in Minnesota right now.
THANK YOU and NEXT POST
Thank you so much for all the comments. I read them all the time and really enjoy hearing from you all. When I get lonely or homesick, it is nice to look at the comments and know people are thinking of me. If you have any questions, send me a comment. I am going to answer a bunch of questions in a post next week. I also hope to put up a bunch of pictures (bigger than the ones I just posted).
