Start of fourth marking period I deviated a bit from the curriculum to teach homonyms, words that sound the same but have different meanings, i.e. hair and hare. Big. Mistake. When I asked for examples of homonyms, I got everything from thin and tin (Liberians pronounce th like t), house and horse, cycle and circle, pan and pen, and faith and fate (again because of the th). Now when I say these words they sound completely different. But in my students’ defense, when they say them they do sort of sound similar. Problem being their accents and the funny way they say things (read: thin said as tin, morning said as money with a long o, hand like han because they drop the d). A little lazy yes, and makes for a damn difficult time teaching homonyms. By the end of the week, I was wishing I had never started the topic in the first place, the same reaction I had when I tried teaching clauses. Come Friday I was done. No more homonyms please. So I did the next best thing to canceling classes completely: played a game. For Friday’s game I dipped into the farthest reaches of my brain and tooled through my archived catalogue of childhood games. What did I come up with? Memory, perhaps my brother’s most favorite game when he was young. We had a couple different versions of Memory, the only one I remember of which had different professions on each. Match the nurse with the nurse! The police officer with the police officer! (Keep in mind it was a Disney version, so the nurse was Minnie and the policeman was Goofy.) I wrote pairs of homonyms on 8x11 pieces of copy paper and I taped these to the board in a 5x6 grid to create a life-size version of the game. Then I explained the rules. Which immediately went in one ear and out the other. I’m a big believer in sink or swim though, so I split the class into two teams and we just started playing. To my surprise not only did they understand it, they enjoyed it. Granted they were more concerned with who won than the material, but for me it didn’t matter. There are not many days when I feel like an awesome teacher, and the majority of the time my lessons are abysmal failures. That being said, Friday I felt like an awesome teacher. What an incredible feeling to show students that school doesn’t have to be all note-taking and rote memorization. It can be fun. It can involve games. And sometimes, just once in awhile, maybe the students will actually want to come to school.

Edward is one of my better biology students. He’s also one of my many neighbors and a great footballer (again, we’re talking soccer here). While we both are hoping that Real Madrid will finally beat Barcelona one of these days, Edward and I have almost nothing in common short of our enjoyment of football and [...]

I’m towards the back of my 9th grade classroom. I glance outside and see the lush outline of green tress and flourishing palm trees. My students sit in their nicely pressed uniforms as they meticulously copy my notes from the board. I take another peek outside towards the peaceful picturesque scenery and then focus back to the class. A rooster randomly comes in, makes a tour around the classroom then silently leaves and goes on his way.

I stand still and try to look back outside and inside at the same time as if I was trying to capture the moment with its full natural rarity. “I’ll remember these unique enchanted fragmented images.” I think to myself. Moments like these are what I’ll carry back to America.

Appreciating the simple things of life in addition to the moments they transform into are what makes my experience here all the more vivid and real.

Just before Christmas break, Holly and I finally made the trip to Handii (Hen-dee). Handii is a small town north of our site. The other direction goes on to Kakata. Everyone at my site talks about Handii’s market and we finally had time off to see it. Market day is Tuesday which is why it was hard to visit, normally that’s a school day for us. We did some good shopping there and I bought many Christmas presents. I saw an antbear (anteater) and crocodile for sale. The St. Paul River I crossed up in Lofa County passes by Handii. There are long canoes carved out of thick tree logs that carry passengers across the river. No bridge here. :) Next time, I plan to pack a lunch and go across and explore.

December 22nd started my holiday vacation. Holly joined along as did little Naw wei. Naw wei didn’t much like the taxi ride into Monrovia nor when we had to walk through Red Light. Red Light is the area just outside of Monrovia where the taxis leave for all locations past there. There is also a large market and basically, it’s complete chaos. I took Naw wei to the only animal vet in the country. He had some mange on his ears so that got treated. He got his DHPP shot and a rope bone from me to make up for the shots.

On the 23rd, Holly, Dani, Anjulie, Ryan, Naw wei and I chartered a taxi from Monrovia to Robertsport (the iconic surfing location preferred by local surfers). We encountered a small hiccup getting past Klay. The government had hired people living along the roads to clean them. And well, those people had not gotten their Christmas pay yet. They rioted. Road blocks went up all over. Suddenly our taxi was forced to stop; the rioters were throwing rocks, sheet metal, and ladders into the road to make them impassible. There were two blocks in front of us, many many more behind us. The situation was charged with emotions and angry Liberians. They would not let any cars pass. I have to be honest; there were a couple moments where I feared it was going to turn from aggressive to violent. But the LNP (Liberian National Police) showed up and got the protestors calmed down. The road blocks were stripped away and after 50 intense minutes of waiting and worrying, we were allowed to pass. These situations are not common but not uncommon. The country is still working its way out a bad civil war and situations can be risky. But we were traveling in a group and the Police took good care of us.

Once on the road again, we picked up Nora and her dog, Milo, at the junction on the way into Robertsport. We got a good look at Lake Piso and a face full of dirt from the dusty road along the way. Robertsport is quite large in size, not population. Some of the roads are in good condition and it’s not hard to picture how nice of a place it was before the war tore it apart. There were sidewalks! The town stretched out for some time and we finally reached the Robertsport Community Campsite. (***shout out to Prince who runs the campsite: He’s amazing, trustworthy, knowledgeable, and knows good customer service. I recommend staying with him.) We pitched our tents and jumped into the surf. 0.05 seconds later I realized I’d lost my glasses in the ocean. Go me. That first night, I let Naw wei sleep with me in my tent. He was a little nervous about all these new places and tired from traveling. He made a good pillow and the extra warmth was nice considering it gets rather chilly on the water at night. Something we had not really thought about before leaving.

I went surfing with Ken and Sam (a little Liberian boy who is a waaay better surfer than me) on Christmas day. The waves were small, good for getting back into the groove of the sport. I took a mid-day break to take a nap in the sand and we all ate fish and rice later that night. Naw wei loves chasing the little crabs in the sand on the surf. This made for fun night walks. My arms were sore, but I found myself of the surf the next day as well. I found Liberian waves (at least during the dry season) are tamer than the 7 or 10 footers I had been trying to learn on in Australia. I know I’ll be back, the area is just ‘too fine’. :) We wrapped up the week with a game of Ultimate Frisbee and more marshmallow roasting.

We left Robertsport and headed to Tenii in Grand Cape Mount. We went swimming and ate some fabulous burritos at Nora’s house. That’s where we got Peep, the little land tortoise. He’s got a bum leg, but he’s a mad banana eater and is pretty darn cute. Nora has chickens….made me want chickens. Possibly just because I want to name one ‘McNugget’. :) After dinner Nora’s adorable neighbor girl told us Liberian stories and after that we drank palm wine out of an old motor oil jar. The palm wine drinking was accompanied by loud singing to Disney songs such as ‘I’ll Make a Man out of You’ from Mulan.

Dani and Anjulie followed Holly, Naw wei and I back to our site after stopping in Monrovia. More palm wine was to be had with Liberians and Dani and I did some stargazing.

After the holiday break and classes resumed, we got the news that the renovated half of the school was ready to be used. Now if you were not reading earlier posts you should know that we have been operating on half the school because the Chinese working at the Mine are also repainting and fixing up our school. We got all the students to help and moved seats into the new rooms. I will happily be assigning seating charts for the next period so that learning all my students’ names will be possible….and classroom management will improve.I added a bonus question to my seventh grade exam: What happens if you spy on a test? Correcting them was great. :) I got lots of ‘I will get a zero’ and ‘I will fail’ or the misspelt version ‘I will fall’. Holly Cook (Miss Cook) asked them the bonus question: ‘What is your English teachers’ name?’ and got some good ones such as: ‘Hollywood Cook’ and ‘Mas Colk’ .

Then our Country Director dropped by for a visit of site and a special delivery. My mom and dad mailed two kindles to him when he went to the states for the holidays. We are quite in love with our new shiny kindles and have put more than 1,100 books on them. Time spent reading has risen muchly. :) I also thank you for the chocolate oranges, frontline plus for puppy, and mp3 cord allowing me to play my iPod on my smashingly awesome speakers. Thank you thank you parents!

Just found a safe place to charge my laptop last week. Liberia surprises me all the time. I can now charge my laptop at the cell phone tower across from my school building. I know sometimes I complain about not having running water and electricity, and many returned volunteers like to tell me about how back when they were in Peace Corps it was that way. My only bit of perspective on that is that back then, most people didn’t have access to lots of technology and no one had cell phones. Peace Corps volunteers working in countries like mine grew up on computers and internet. It’s really interesting learning to work and live without them sometimes.

This week the new American Embassy opened with a ribbon cutting by the Secretary of State. I have not yet been there to see it, but I hear good things. Madam President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf was sworn into another term of office on December 16th, 2012.

And I finally built my garden! My tenth grader helped out and I have now planted pineapple, watermelon, carrots, peas, and cherry tomatoes. The essentials, ya know ;) Beans are projected to hit the dirt next week and I’ll need to add new goals onto my list.

For those of you who are thinking about joining the Peace Corps, are in the middle of the application process, nomination, desperately waiting for the mail while stalking the mail man, have been invited or just counting the days till you leave, I want to let you know that no matter which country/site you’ve been selected to, it is truly an experience you won’t forget.

Peace Corps is really what you make of it. True, your country, its culture and your community have a lot to do with it but I would say that it really just comes down to YOU. How you absorb things and take things in as an individual really plays a huge part in this experience.

I can’t talk for every PCV because everyone has their own point of view and we all have a different perspective whether we’re in the same country of service or not, but personally I really recommend Peace Corps. It’s definitely not for everyone, that’s for sure, but if you do feel like making a difference in someone’s life and see how your life can also be changed by living in a completely different culture and experiencing a different lifestyle, I would say GO FOR IT.

Being here for the past 7 months has already strongly defined this stage of my life to being one of the most important ones. I don’t really know how to explain it, but as cliché as it sounds, this has been exactly what I’ve always dreamed of doing. Again, I can’t speak for other volunteers, because I know for a fact that not all of us have the same outlook, but in my case, I would say that Peace Corps has given me the opportunity to see the stark life realities of remote parts of the world. Not only that, but its given me an opportunity to live and experience first hand what it’s like to live in a developing world.

In some rare form, its put things into perspective. Although, reality is hard to accept sometimes, and you find yourself asking why things are the way they are, I’ve found myself having a better cultural understanding of why things are they way they are and I’ve become much more aware of how things work in a developing country. Even though, I also grew up in Mexico and much of the Liberian ways remind me of the Mexican ways, it’s still very different. Life here itself is different, in so many ways that I couldn’t even describe to you because you wouldn’t even understand it without physically being here and living it… becoming a part of a distinctly different community than yours and being accepted as a family member, laying on your bed at nights while the only thing you hear outside are the crickets and frogs, or it may be the drums and chants of rituals performed by your neighbors, eating the local cuisine and having no other alternatives, bathing bucket style and finding new techniques on how to rinse with one hand and scrub with the other at the same time, forming true human connections and bonds with people who you had no common grounds with and who are now such an important part of your life and will always be linked in your heart and memories till years to come, laughing and joking instead of overwhelming yourself and getting upset with the unexpected spontaneous circumstances that a PCV find themselves at times, crying with your heart and not with your eyes when you find yourself bursting into an uncontrollable admiration for life’s most simple and precious things such as a starry night or raining day and finally then breathing in the moist wet soils of the country you now have come to love and know as your home. Liberia has slowly become my country, my home and although I know I will be back in the States, I know that this country has forever changed me and it will always remain in my heart till the end of my time.

Peace Corps life is definitely without a doubt in my own opinion something that will impact your life in so many ways that you’ll find yourself not being able to express to your blog readers how you’ve changed.

In other words, Peace Corps gives you something much more grand than a good name and reputation, it gives you a front row seat in witnessing the realities of life itself, which then transforms into a deep cultural experience that only you can understand and cherish as your own treasure.

So for those who are still considering and want to join Peace Corps for the right reasons, which is mainly to help others, than definitely without a doubt GO FOR IT. The experience of being here and not there where you are, could be more valuable than anything you would be doing back home.

I eat fufu now! Google fufu and get a visual. It’s fermented cassava with soup that has chicken, fish and or pepper. I hated it when I got here… now I crave it sometimes. Strange how that kind of stuff happens. My neighbor smashed up dried pepper and made me peppe powder. I add it to food that’s not quite hot enough. Those of you who know me will be surprised by this.

I attended a traditional wedding in November. And pictures are in my ‘Got fufu’ album on facebook. The bride and groom wore lapa suits and ate kola nuts. There was /tons/ of dancing and throwing of money on the bride’s head…which I enjoyed. I’ve decided that to deter unwanted attention I will start telling the Liberian guys that my bride price is $10,000 USD. Not sure what I’ll do if someone ends up having that much… but it’s not likely.

My school received a visitor from the Ministry of Education in mid-November. Matthew did a week-long conference with the primary school teachers in the entire area. Subject matter? Phonics. Thank God! Liberian teachers in my area were trained on how to pronounce the whole word and letters correctly. This is key for improving education in Liberia. If young students know the sounds of letters and can sound out words, they will be able to excel in reading. And for me, having a few seventh graders whom cannot read, this program was long overdue. Matthew is sticking around for six months to track the programs progress and our school has landed a big box of primary education books.

We had our IST (In Service Training) in Gbarnga. It was like summer camp…at least the sleeping situation was. I happened to land (by accident) the only bed with springs (which is all Dani’s fault). You’re thinking Ooo spring mattress. It was nice…but it had a pretty bad dip and it squeaked, like, a lot. And when you’re all sleeping in one big room and Steph gets into bed and attempts to ‘get comfy’ it translates into a lot of squeaking. It was then dubbed the sexy time bed. And I was told ‘take time. Small, small tiger’. Regardless, it was a great thing to laugh about and we got some great training during that week. We even got a panel discussion with the Dean of Cuttington University, WAEC (West African Examination Council) representative, and the Deputy for the Ministry of Education herself. Amazing people and we gave them some good feedback and requests.

Thanksgiving was spent snuggled in an air conditioned embassy home with TV and internet, the hot showers were the biggest prize though. We all were invited to the American Embassy for dinner which had really good turkey, ham, pumpkin pie, cranberries, mashed potatoes, and gravy. All Americans in Liberia were invited but me and my fellow volunteers made sure to race up to the serving table to be first in line. Free food? Free /good/ food? We’re not going to wait for the back of the line. We all ate too much food and were very happy. I even got to see the Packer game that night.

The very next day a few of us bused back up to Gbarnga on our way to Lofa County. We were headed for Barziwein. A small village on the Lofa road, Lofa County. We passed by Dani and Anjulie’s site in Salayea and Garrett’s site in Zorzor. I had my first Pakistani meal at the Pakistani UN base in Zorzor that day. Truly good food. We continued onward to Barziwein. Lofa County is beautiful, goats, sheep, the St. Paul River, large mountains everywhere and adorable small village towns along the road. When we arrived, I was almost about to fall asleep. There wasn’t a sign that we were getting close to the village, it just crept up on us. And they met our bus with cheering (which woke me up straight away), crying, singing, and dancing. They were so happy to see us. We got off the bus, after our seven hour ride, and got right to dancing. :) A handful of other volunteers and myself headed off to our overnight stay, a nearby village called Nekerbozo (Nick-a-boo-zoo), after the dancing was over. We drove part of the way and dropped some volunteers of in Midena and continued on to Nekerbozo by foot. Cars cannot reach this place. We were all a little surprised to find ourselves at a monkey bridge (pictures on ‘Got fufu’ album) over a large river. Now, a monkey bridge can be a few well-placed logs that aid cars over a crack or river, but this bridge was only for people. This bridge was made entirely out of bamboo and vines. No nails or metal supports at all. Wonnie (our Liberian staff member) was a bit nervous about this, but she made it across. I took videos and tried not to slip on the curved bamboo. Nora and I stayed with the village chief and they fed us some yummy dry rice with butter pear (aka avocado). *Note: dry rice is not really ‘dry’ it just doesn’t have a soup prepared to mix into it with chicken and fish. The poorer you are in Liberia, you eat more dry rice. We had a traditional song and dance night and gave the small children stories and lectures. Afterward, I took my warm bucket bath in the ‘outdoor’ shower that was surrounded by bamboo poles. There were flat warm stones under my feet, my lapa hung over the doorway and there was no roof. The light rain fell on top of me while I bathed. If you ever want to try something truly amazing, take a warm bath in a light rain with a blanket of a million stars over your head. No light pollution out here, I saw all of them. There is no light at night here. Now, at my site it gets dark but there are still a few generators along the road and video clubs. No generators here. You can bet your socks that I’m going back too. The chief gave us his nicest room to sleep in and the next day (after the stupid goat bleated right outside my window and woke me up) we walked back over the monkey bridge back to Barziwein for the 50th Anniversary program.

Our 50th Anniversary program was based around a previous PCV who taught in the village before the Liberian Civil war. Susan Davey loved her school very much and her former students were present that day. Susan Davey was serving in Liberia when she died in a car accident on a vacation in Kenya. She asked to be buried at her site, where her grave rests still. The grave site was renovated and current students put on a play about her life, and other students sang songs. The Town chief presented our country director with a chicken and Susan’s former students told stories. More dancing followed the program and yummy goat soup. I hope it was the annoying one outside my window. :) We dragged our feet getting back onto the bus, not really wanting to leave. We had a seven hour ride back to the compound in Gbarnga.

In early November we gave our first exams at school. Liberian students are well known for their talent in spying (or cheating). Sometimes they leave a sheet of notes under the test, others hide notes on the seat between their legs, others (girls) will hide note in their skirt or write on their legs, and I’ve seen notes written on money that can be passed from student to student. They are very crafty, and I love catching them trying to fool me. :) For our first exam, I made three different tests and told my students that spying would not help them on the test. However, some of them still copied from their neighbor, writing down all the wrong answers onto their test. But my students catch on quick and know that if they spy they will lose points, not be allowed to finish the test, and sometimes even get a zero on the exam. Surprisingly, the students who come to class and study/review the material are the ones that pass. Something I always have to explain to the students that never come to class and then show up for the exam expecting to pass the period.

Got another package from home. :) thanks again, mom and dad. Those hand lenses you mailed got broken in by my tenth graders during review week. After me lecturing them and saying that these lenses can make objects look bigger they were so amazed to go out in the field behind the school and experience it for themselves. ‘Miss Stephanie! The ant looks bigger!’ ‘Look, there are little hairs on this leaf!’. We made sure to observe small print text and even Naw wei’s nose before heading back inside the classroom to discuss what we found.

Thanks for including sandals in the box you sent. My giant-sized feet are hard to shop for in Liberia. I wear size 11 in US and 73 in European sizes. It makes finding large sandals that I can teach in hard to do. My last pair was finally tossed out. I used super glue on them so many times it stopped helping. But at least I got all the use out of them. Not as embarrassing as my study abroad in Australia when I duct taped my shoes to avoid paying for new ones. Priorities man, I wanted to go bungee jumping more than buy shoes.I bought Naw wei a rabies vaccination in Monrovia in November. The only hitch? It needs to be refrigerated… and I have to transport it back to my site using bush taxi. I got an empty medical kit, filled it with ice and ice packs and set out for site. It was still cool when I arrived four hours later, but the ice was melted. Naw wei disliked this because as soon as I got there, he was held down and Holly stuck him in the butt. But now he’s protected from rabies.

I did more stand-up comedy at Tides Bar over Halloween and dressed up as Justin Beiber last minute because I didn’t plan ahead and gather a costume. I was in Monrovia for a PSN training. Peer Support Network is a volunteer run program that aims to act as a support system for our fellow volunteers. So whether they need to vent, brag, complain, cry, or hear some uplifting words, we are here to help. We got some excellent training on active listening and forming a support network from a big boss man in D.C. And so I was voted into the position of secretary and our group is well on its way to forming events that facilitate support of each other no matter what we are having troubles with out at site.

So you know the insides of tires? Those seemingly useless tubes? Well, they’re sold here and are quite perfect as inner tubes out on the lake at our site. We started with one, now we have three. They’re just great for floating around and being lazy. I also managed to salvage a plastic chair from our swimming hole. One of our Chinese friends knocked his chair into the water while fishing (he’s kind of a klutz). But all I had to do was dive down twelve feet and swim back up to the surface with it. Now it sits in our house and I didn’t have to pay $8 to get it. Small win. Our house is one more step closer to being furnished.

On October 28th we had a program/fun day planned for school. The school brought out the generator and the kids watched a pretty terrible (but very hilarious) Nigerian movie while we held a ‘meet you fellow teachers’ meeting in the reading room complete with peanut butter cookies made on our coal pot. I found out most of my fellow teachers were born or raised in Lofa County and was happy to tell them I was headed there for the first time later in the month for Peace Corps 50th Anniversary Celebration. The Nigerian shows were followed by a killer football game. New students vs Old students. During the game my fellow techers found it important to tell me I had to root for the New students since I was a new teacher. And hence the playful banter between us as the score changed throughout the game. It ended in a tie and I was pretty proud of my athletic twelfth graders. They did well. After football was the school dance. Yeah…. I thought I was finally too old for these. Seems not. I fear for myself when I have to dance back in the United States. The Liberians think I’m a really good dancer and I feel like these West African hit songs are not helping my already bad dance abilities. But you can’t say no when Africans ask you to dance. And so, we made an appearance at the dance and I got to scope out which of my students were dating whom (what?! I know it happens). And show them up on the dance floor. Shakira’s Waka waka is relatively common here but I’m still trying to master that dance. Beiber is also common which is rather odd, Katy Perry and Lady GaGa are not heard of which slightly saddens me. And I couldn't tell you what’s hip now. But if any of you friends feel like enlightening me with the current hot and hip music from home please put it on an SD card or USB port. My snazzy music player saves battery by only using these and my mp3 plug which lets me play my iPod. My laptop does not have a disk drive. Naw wei, my little African mutt is growing fast. He’s finally lifting his leg to pee (and doesn't have to look like a strange chicken-legged squatter anymore) and enjoys peeing on all kinds of things. He’s also coming of age and noticing all the lady dogs around the house. However he’s not sure what to do and I don’t speak dog which means that while you are watching CNN or BBC at night I have Lady and the Tramp doggie romances going on from the view of my porch. He’ll figure it out at some point, but it’s highly entertaining for us. His collection of tricks has gone up to include ‘wave’, ‘speak’ and ‘roll over’. Even some of my students are now visiting and going up to him ‘Naw wei, speak!’ They think he’s amazingly talented for an African dog.

You may already know about this, but I’m kind of a big deal in Monrovia’s stand-up comedy crowd. Actually I just started, but my response was warm so I’m giving it a go. I did my first night on October 2nd. I was in town with some fellow volunteers and we went out to Tides Bar. Once there, we discovered it was open mic night…and it didn’t take much peer pressure before I was added to the list. Holly and I have folding lawn chairs now. That was our big splurge this month. They are perfect for lying under the stars at night and admiring the Milky Way. We’ve also seen quite a few moon bows. Yeah, never knew that was a real thing. But they are pretty beautiful.I met a new good friend while waiting for my taxi home in early October. Christina is a Liberian with a bachelor’s degree who teaches science to senior high students. Can you say science-geek-talk-ensued-for-several-hours? It was pretty awesome to see a lady doing what she does.That taxi ride home was pretty funny. It had rained a lot before and the rode was a weird mix of a roller coaster and a slip and slide. You know when the other taxi passengers are complaining about the lack of network coverage and the terrible road conditions to you (which you shrug off) that you’re adjusting quite well.I eat more pepper than I ever thought I would now. My neighbor makes a mean peppe calla (not sure how it’s spelt) and I try not to eat too much. I also have an official Kpelle teacher at site. Winnie comes over or I visit her house and my kpelle book is getting revamped and expanded. I also have a Kissi (another local dialect) and Chinese copybook. Who would have thought I’d be learning Chinese in Liberia? O.o On election week I did a lot of baking on the coal pot with my neighbors. Thank you mom for the cookie recipes! The sugar cookies were good and the peanut butter cookies were the biggest hit. I’ve already had to make more. Also on Election Day we hung out at the Chinese base and played strange video games and cards all day. Be warned that if you do play cards with the Chinese, there are punishments involved. And not your typical alcohol punishments… I would have taken whiskey shots…trust me. The favored punishment that night was taking a bite or raw garlic. We had heartburn and bad breath for a few nights after that. The Chinese think that eating raw garlic is good for your health…I think they just like to see how many people they can wipe when they breathe on you. They have also treated us to their Chinese food. Once again, Chinese food? In Bong Mines? I still don’t really believe it.I also have discovered my saving grace for dry season. It’s the most amazing swimming hole I could possibly ask for. I will add a picture to facebook at some point. I also hurt my back a little and the inflammation is taking its good sweet time. So I had to give up running and switch to swimming. :) I love it. I now keep a swim bag in the reading room at school, because I’ve kind of become addicted. Naw wei is turning into a swimmer as well (he’s got to be if he wants to still be my dog) and so he joins along with some of my 10th and 12th graders. I had palm wine two weeks ago. My 12th graders convinced me. It made for a funny morning (because I taught them the cards game ‘spoons’). I also tried ant bear soup that week…aka anteater, which is surprisingly ‘sweet’ (as my landlady Fumata said).I made my favorite Liberian soup (eddo soup) for my principal and teachers at my house last month. That was the day our bed frames were delivered and so there was much excitement that afternoon. Holly and I are *officially* not sleeping on the floor anymore. Thank goodness. I pulled out my new bed sheets that my mom had washed back in the states. I had kept them in a vacuum bag until the night I got my bed frame. I tried not to question my own sanity when I went to bed, sniffing my sheets (cause they smelt like home) for a good hour before falling asleep.So on the weekends, when I do wash out on the porch with the rest of my neighbors, I listen to CRI radio. Aside from the quirky random words I learn to say in Chinese, the radio station plays our favorite morning music show /ever/. The Shuffle, plays music from the 70s, 80s, 90s and last week the DJ ‘Stephanie’ played ‘shark in the water’. (This part of the story will only make sense to my gang back in Superior. Angie, this story is for you) And yes, Ang, I sang along, danced and told Holly about your shark dance (which I hope you are still doing).I got mail from mom and dad again! Thank you for the scandals. I can’t find my size here (bothersome…). The butterfingers are being eaten as we speak and Naw wei thanks you for another ball to chew on.I pimped the guest room this month! So you should come visit. :) I also visited Salala this week. Slowly but surely I will see all or most of Liberia.For variation sake, I’d love for you, my friends and readers, to let me know what types of things I should talk about or include more of. Sorry for the lapse in blog entries! I have been teaching one of my twelfth graders how to use a computer and that has been taking up my battery life. :)

One of the best parts of Buchanan has always been the beach. A less mentioned aspect of our maritime location are the multiple rivers running through our area. Apparently there are three, though I can only name one of them, the St. John River (or St. John’s, which just goes to show how little attention I pay). The closest I’ve ever come to the rivers is the one time I walked to it, went halfway across the bridge, stared longingly into it’s cool depths where I saw what looked to be frog-lizard mutations and possibly the start of schistosomiasis. So I didn’t go in. Last Saturday we again went to the river – which, I couldn’t tell you – this time, to cross via canoe. The idea was suggested by some missionary friends who had done it before, and swore that the cute, tiny houses just down the river would be worth it. Upon arriving, we see four canoes, unreliable looking, clearly on their last legs, and barely able to carry a bird down the current let alone full-grown adults. Standing next to them are their equally unreliable boatsmen. I swiftly assess the situation and announce that myself, Natalie, and another similarly proportioned girl will take one canoe. I left the other 6, much larger, passengers to fight it out for two more canoes. We wade through the water and take our seats, and already I feel us listing to the left. Apparently so does our driver, Chris. He motions for us to scoot to our right, which we all do in unison, and the canoe wobbles precariously. “Moves like that our going to put us in the water, Jessica,” Natalie warns. Chris seems able, more so than the old grandpa paddling the other canoe. He’s quiet though. I know because when I’m nervous I don’t shut my mouth, and despite all my banal, stupid questions, I can’t get him to say more than five words. “So Chris, you come out here often?” I ask. “Yeah.” “Great. You go to school?” “Yeah.” “Where?” “Bassa High.” “Oh! You like it?” Silence. “No?” I mutter. “Okay.” And we continue wobbling back and forth as we make our way down the river. At one point, after what seems to me a close call, I decide to just stare at the bottom of the canoe. If I can’t see us tipping, maybe I’ll be less apt to try and correct. Because every time I correct, I over correct, nearly tipping us. “You’re going to be the one to put us in the water,” the other missionary girl tells me. Why is this all my fault? There’s three other people in the canoe! All I can think about is the book I just read where a pilot was shot down in the Pacific and spent 46 days stranded on an inflatable life raft beating away sharks, and though the water’s only about three feet deep, I imagine that’s just deep enough for sharks. Poor timing, my literary choice. Finally we reach shore, and I’m the first one out, practically tipping the canoe – again – in my eagerness to leave its unstable body. The place we end up is called Edina, apparently a play on Indiana, or so I’ve heard. It’s one of the oldest villages around, and was one of the first places to be settled when Liberia was founded. You can tell by the architecture, very reminiscent of southern, colonial structures in the U.S. Edina is deserted though. After the war, those living there were too worried to come back. Since then, a majority of the houses (wood) have burned down, a large number remain empty, and a few are still inhabited, the residents lovingly patching up holes in the roofs, adding a new coat of paint here or there. It seems like a lost cause though. The land is slowly retaking what the settlers first took. Every house in one way or another is being reclaimed by nature. At one house greens sprout from the gutter. Another has been completely overtaken by a mango tree, so that the first thing seen is the tree, the second the house within. Trees are sprouting up through the cracked floors, bugs entering through the broken ceilings. Amid this though there’s incredible tranquility. With no one around, it’s peaceful, much more than my area of Buchanan, where even in the middle of the night there seems to be something making noise. The beach too is magnificent. Untouched, the waves crashing like bolts of lightning. I didn’t go in. It looked too powerful. And then all too soon we’re back at the canoes, readying for our 20-minute glide back to the original shore. My first observation upon stepping in is that our canoe seems to have taken on a bit of water in our absence. And yes, upon closer inspection, I can see a leak through which water is quietly filtering and pooling below us. “Uh, we’ve got a leak guys,” I inform them. No one cares. I return to my staring-at-my-feet strategy, but this time there’s no comfort, because all I see is that we’re sinking, albeit slowly. “Don’t look at the water, Jess,” Natalie tries to warn me. But too late. We cross through a patch of water that’s clearly being used as a toilet, and the brown bubbles floating on the surface make me want to vomit. Please, God, if you’re going to tip us, don’t let it be here. I see the water at my feet that’s trickling through the crack in the canoe’s exterior, and imagine all the bacteria wiggling between my toes. Slowly I try to angle my feet so they’re out of the water. Finally, alas, we reach shore, and I’m so happy I could kiss the ground but for the Liberians all standing there laughing at me. At the end of the day, looking back, it was probably not something to be so worried about. But everyone has their fears right? And to the missionary woman who, after Natalie told her the canoes scared me, said with saccharine insincerity, “You knew the water was only three feet deep right?”, all I have to say is this: There’s a reason you weren’t in my canoe.

My apologies for the absence in blog posts. It’s been almost two weeks since I arrived back in Buchanan, and I’ve found myself alternately extremely busy and extremely tired, though not in the sense that Americans living in America might understand it. When I went home for Christmas, I found myself busy – always doing something. Going to Target, the supermarket, post office, PeiWei, every free moment of my day was filled with an activity. Liberia is more relaxed. Right now I’m busy but only because I teach until 1 p.m., eat lunch, wait around for a couple hours until the sun has fallen behind my house, and then I start yard work. In the shade it’s incredibly cooler, and later in the afternoon there are fewer people which means less nosey people. I’ve cleared an area about 10’x20’ of weeds using my trusty hoe. Expecting to sleep like a baby each night after two straight hours of hoeing (or hooking, as they like to call it), I’m frustratingly kept awake by the heat, dogs and mosquitoes which are still menacing me despite the disappearance of any and all rain. Which means that the only things I get from my work are a dirt yard the dogs roll around in and the realization that I am horribly out of shape. Two hours of wielding my hoe and I can barely hold my chalk to the board the next morning at school. At school I’m faced with 300 students who have had bigger muscles that me since childhood. Humbling, yes, especially when you consider that their body types resemble my brother’s, slim but sturdy, strong. Yet whereas my brother has spent countless hours at the rock climbing gym meticulously sculpting his torso and arms, Liberians have earned their bodies through nothing more than manual labor: cutting grass with the steady swing of a long blade, lifting water by a bucket attached to a rope that drops 20 feet into the dark depths of a well, carrying 25 kg of rice on their heads. I’ve got some catching up to do, clearly.

10am, January 10am, January 6th, 2012, overlooking the Atlantic from the cliffs of Ghana In a few hours from now, I’ll be heading back to the Accra airport and then back to Liberia; back to the bush taxis, back to a chaotic school, back to bony fish. I like to think that my grasp of [...]

I’m back! Our vacation trip to Sierra Leone was sooo much fun! Sierra Leone is def a really cool country. I gotta say it’s more developed than Liberia in regards to transportation, city life, places to eat, etc. The beaches are truly beautiful and serene. Aghh I want to go back to the beach! ; )

We spent a week there because we had to cut our trip short, since the President of Liberia was stopping by to see our library. Yeah. So, we had to come back 4 days earlier than expected. You see, we’ve been fortunate enough to receive a BIG donation of books from LET (Liberian Educational Trust)which was founded by the president herself. Kristin and I have been in charge of putting the library together and it looks awesome now! Our students are enjoying the space and are happy to finally be able to do research and assignments in there. Since our arrival back home, we’ve been super busy also getting ready to receive another important guest Deborah Harding who is president of the LET program, who came all the way from the US to attend the presidents inauguration this coming Monday the 16th and decided that while she was in Liberia, she could come and check out our library and pay us a visit.

Deborah Harding has been wonderful, because of her we were able to receive a brand new computer, scanner/printer, new generator and BOOKS! It’s been great. Then this weekend I’m getting together with a group of ladies who run Girl programs here in Liberia and was hoping to get some help from them in organizing this little project I’ve been thinking about doing with the girls club here at school. I wanna call it LappaScraps. Basically it’s just making handbags out of pieces of lappa scraps. While I was in Sierra Leone, I bought this awesome bag made out of different lappas and I was like, wow there’s nothing like this back in Liberia… maybe we can do something similar? The lappas here in Africa in general are really beautiful. They’re colorful, elaborate, detailed and fun. Liberia has a lot of tailors because all the women here wear lappa suits and usually the left over lappas are pretty much thrown away. So, how cool would it be to actually make use of them and make purses/bags and quilts out of them and sell it to the public. I haven’t seen any thing like it in Monrovia or anywhere else in Liberia, so why not start something fun with the girls while also giving them a chance to acquire a new skill. Anyways, I thought it was a fun idea, so I’m gonna go for it and see where it goes.

Monday and Tuesday I’ll be attending the Ribbon Cutting ceremony for the grand opening of the new US Embassy in Monrovia. It’s been said that Hilary Clinton will also be attending this event along with Ma Ellen (Liberia’s President). So maybe I can snap a couple of pics of them both : )

Then next week we get a visit from our Country Director along with Carrie Hessler-Radelet, Deputy Director of Peace Corps. They’ll be visiting our site, library and listening to our Peace Corps experience here in Salala.

So far its already been a busy month. I’m sure this New Year will be fun and exciting with good projects our way. There’s so much I wish I could so, but so little time. Take time, I tell myself. Things will take shape as long as I put in the positive attitude and effort.

Below are pics of the handbags I bought In Sierra Leone, and what can be ideas for the LappaScraps project.

Nya, Mary, Yada, some kid I don’t know, and Grandpa… Jean Paul… whatever we’re calling him these days. Around 6:00 I went to read on the porch.  Our neighbor Vivian sat on the pump looking tearful.  “Merry Christmas!” I yelled.  “What soup did you cook?”  She mumbled something.  “Eh?” I called.  “Sis RB, we didn’t [...]

This morning I stood in the Ganta market, motorbikes zooming around me, dust swirling, hands grabbing, and suddenly saw myself as if in a movie.  High angle shot.  White woman shoves her way through the crowd somewhere in West Africa.  Internal monologue: “It’s the day after Christmas and I’m trying to buy a pineapple in [...]

Today we went to Ganta to try to bank.  We expected a shit show and weren’t disappointed.  A crowd milled around outside and we immediately recognized two teachers.  “What you come here for?” the VPI asked.  “The system is down.  No one has had money for two days.” Oooookaaaay. We went inside and it was [...]

Best night of dancing ever.  Only a handful of teachers reached to campus today so Mr. Demy cancelled school at recess.  The kids who were there didn’t want to be there anyway (I had to leave 11B to break up a raucous dance party next door in 11A).  Honestly, neither did Krista and I. So [...]

I’m exhausted, but for some reason I don’t want to go to bed.  I think it’s because if I do another day will come.  But I’m tired.  And I don’t want to be responsible.  I wish they’d just cancel school and give us our break.  I want to travel to Ganta to investigate at the [...]

Friday afternoon I gave a quiz to my 12th graders then Krista and I walked straight to the taxi stand and left for Saclepea to visit Matt Mann.  I only need one word to describe the trip: DUST.  (Then perhaps “danger” and “break down” or “juju”)  It hasn’t rained in over a week and the [...]

Saturday Krista and I went dancing at the club to drown our sorrows and console our lonely hearts.  “Ms. L? Ms. S?” we heard in the dim, thumping pit that serves as the dance floor.  “Who is it?  It’s too dark,” I whispered to Krista.  “I don’t know!” she hissed back.  Retreating outside we were [...]

Last week, as Krista and I approached campus, we saw a student throwing sticks into a tree.  “Othello?” I asked.  “Yes, Ms. RB, there’s a snake!” he replied, chunking another stick at the branches.  “Well did you get it?” Krista asked, importantly.  “Oh, no,” he replied.  We all looked at each other.  “So it’s angry [...]

First period I took Jestina’s exam and failed her for spying.  I’ve been all over her ever since, confiscating her phone several times a week and keeping tabs on her attendance.  Yesterday she asked about her 2nd period grade.  I showed her that I was sending an 82, well above passing.  She threw her arms [...]

Tonight I’m sleeping in a t-shirt, a long sleeve shirt, and sweat pants under my blanket, a lappa, and the American Airlines “blanket” I’ve had since sleeping on the floor in JFK.  Um, it’s cold!  We won’t be getting a white Christmas, but it will almost certainly be brisk… so that’s a start.

Yesterday K and I went crazy at market day and accomplished some great retail therapy.  In addition to a bag of lappas I bought a Ninja Turtles t-shirt, a man shirt, and two pairs of slippers.  Na’ bad-o.  I can’t afford it often, but it was worth it.  We were probably there three hours, digging [...]

For the first time in months I am on the verge of tears.  I woke up early and trudged through the day in a total funk.  The fog hung thick and low as I crouched over the coal pot.  It followed me all day although the sun came out blazing. I fumed cooking dinner.  I [...]

Two nights ago I slept in a fancy American-style embassy apartment.  Tonight Krista and I are sharing a bed in the village of Medina in upper Lofa County.  The two worlds could not be more drastically different. This is the third straight day we’ve spent on the bus and there are two more travel days [...]

Last weekend we had the Junior-Senior prom at school and all the kids wanted to dance with me, swarming and grabbing at me.  It sounds sketchy, and it was, but most of it was in good fun. Graduation for last year’s seniors was later that weekend so K and I put on lappa suits and [...]

Baking Ullie’s birthday cake was a roller coaster, a nail-biting, anxious afternoon squatting over the coal pot.  The Choco-Lalla proved to be a great substitute for cocoa (of course the store they took Krista to in Monrovia didn’t have any) and I mixed until I thought my arm would fall off.  When’s the last time [...]

I left Zwedru on Friday and it already seems like a thing of the distant past. I was so busy my last few days- saying good-byes, packing, eating my last plate of rice and pepper soup, washing clothes by hand for the last time, taking my last cold bucket bath, and waiting for the generator to turn on for the last time- I haven’t really had a chance to think about leaving until now.

It's all bittersweet, actually. Sure, I look forward to hot showers and Italian subs and 24 hr electricity, but I am also sad to leave behind such great friends, simplicity, and the natural beauty of Africa.

Liberia has not been an easy place to live or work. I have struggled with understanding the structure of a post-conflict country, the role of NGOs and the UN in reconstruction, the line between helping people and doing things for people, and personally, the challenge of separating my experiences in Liberia from my memories of Zambia.

But, Liberia has also been a very intense learning experience; filled with excitement, frustration, success, sadness, and love. Excitement of new places, people, foods, culture. Frustration over the pace of development, the lack of initiative and the dependence on aid. Success in making a difference (even if it was REALLY small), integrating into the community, and making friends. Sadness when I had to say good-bye. And, the love of Africa and everything it has taught me, the memories it has given me, and the ways it has helped me grow as a person.

I am thankful everyday for having come here, having the best colleagues anyone could ask for, living with the coolest site mates in Peace Corps, eating hot peppers, listening to the rain fall in buckets, watching the sunset, and getting a small taste of the village life I missed. Liberia has been difficult but it has helped me to appreciate my time in Zambia more than I could ever imagine. And for this I am most thankful.

As I close this chapter of my life, I will keep the memories I have made, the lessons I have learned and the people I have met close to my heart.Until the 3rd Scoop (Triple Dip anyone?)……..

Ok, not really retirement, but it is my last day of work at WFP. To be honest, I'm not feeling too sad. Time is up here. I've learned a lot from working with a UN agency (e.g. I will never work for one again) but am ready to move on (so if you know someone hiring let me know). I got into work this morning, did some final paper work and then left for one last meeting at the hospital. I think it was a trick to send me off with a real TIA feeling... the meeting started late, lasted WAAAYYYY too long, it was HOT, people talked in circles most of the time (just to be heard), and I had to take minutes. Yes, TIA. I will miss you, but only after I'm gone!

The view from my desk for the past 5 months (I know I'll miss those palm trees when the snow starts falling on me at home):

Im leaving Zwedru in less than 2 weeks! It really snuck up on me. And it really hit home at my going away party this weekend. WFP put together a little gathering to send me off. We spent the day preparing the food.... Spicy goat soup. We got the goat from a village about an hour from here. Apparently the village was SO excited to get rid of this goat because it was a real trouble maker. We were happy to take it off of their hands.It was delicious!We all had a great time together!

The party actually carried on until the next day...with some taking part more than others!

I have exactly 2 weeks left in Zwedru. It's finally hit me that I am leaving soon. This has stirred up a lot of feelings that I am just now able to begin sorting through. I've started the process by making a list of what I will most most about Zwedru (in an attempt to remind myself not to take the day to day things for granted in my last days here) and a list of what I can't wait to get home to (in an attempt to not take these things for granted once I get home!).

Top 25 things I am going to miss about Zwedru (in no particular order)…

1. Food. Pepper soup, palm butter, potato greens, cassava leaf, papaya, acheke, fried plantains, sweet potatoes with pepper stew on top, fufu, jollof rice!!

2. The feeling of my mouth being on fire after eating the above foods

3. Going for egg sandwiches (2 eggs, one cup oil, a few pieces of onion, and a squirt of mayo) and a cup of coffee (1/3 cup Nescafe, 2/3 cup sweetened condensed milk) on Sunday mornings

4. Knowing 75% of the people who pass by while I am eating my egg sandwich on Sunday morning

5. My friends and colleagues

6. Florida Fridays with the other NGO workers

7. Pasta Saturdays

8. Weekend afternoons at Cash bar with the WFP drivers to watch football and drink cold ones

9. Eating donuts or bread with mayo for breakfast everyday. And not feeling bad about it

10. Watching bad reality TV with my housemate after a long day at work

11. Sitting outside with Ruthia on Saturday afternoons, reading a book, drinking pineapple juice and eating popcorn

12. Walking to work in the morning with all the cute (and sometimes utterly annoying) little kids on their way to school

13. Walking to Ruthia’s in the mid-day sun

14. Market shopping with friends on the weekend

15. Bargaining for everything

16. BBC news and Network Africa from 7-8 am

17. West African music on cassette tapes, repeated for hours on end while in the vehicle

18. The sky, scenery, and the smell of the jungle. Palm trees, sunrises and sunsets. Storm clouds, thunder, lightening and rain.

19. Driving through the mud. Its like being at Hershey Park and riding on the Comet in a bumper car

20. Standing out in a crowd

21. Taking pictures of weird things

22. The full moon

23. Being congratulated for gaining weight

24. Having a personal tailor

25. Buying random food items in small plastic bags

Top 25 things I can’t wait to get home to (in no particular order)…

1. A HUGE deli sandwich, with a bowl of chowder and potato chips

2. Family and friends

3. Wearing socks (I haven’t worn a pair since July)

4. A real pillow: one not made of cut up pieces of foam stuffed it into a pillow case

5. REAL coffee. Brewed. With unlimited refills

6. A different outfit (I’ve been wearing the same 5-6 outfits for 5 months)

7. A comfortable couch, bed, and chair

8. Convenience

9. Diner breakfasts

10. Fruit. In any form: fresh fruit, fruit juice, fruit salad

11. Not wearing flip flops in the shower

12. Hot running water

13. Paved roads

14. Fast internet

15. Drinking tap water

16. Beer on tap and wine

17. Sleeping without the sound of a generator running (imagine a lawn mower outside of your window all night)

18. Blending in

19. Sidewalk cafes

20. 24-hour electricity

21. Ice cubes

22. Traffic patterns that make sense

23. Working out and going to the gym

24. Fountain soda

25. A washer and dryer

I had a Peace Corps meeting on Monday so I decided to go down to Monrovia a few days early. I needed a break from Zwedru and our friends from the Indian bat. invited us to Robertsport on Sunday. Robertsport is known for being one of the best surfing areas on the West Coast of Africa. I certainly wasn't going to go surfing but thought it would be fun to take a road trip (as if going to Greenville and back and then down to Monrovia wasn't enough) and just relax in the sun for a day. It took about 2 hours to get there. We packed a picnic, our bathing suits and suntan lotion. It was really all we needed.We drank fresh coconut water, went swimming, and ate some curry.

We were also able to see the local fishermen bring in their evening catch. I wasn't thrilled to see what had been swimming around with me all afternoon, but it was interesting to see the guys working so hard to pull the fish in and then watch all the market women come in and divide everything up for sale.

It started as an afterwork Happy Hour at 3pm. It ended as a late night dance party at 11pm.

We have half-days on Friday and usually spend the free afternoon napping, reading, doing laundry or just sitting around. Yesterday that changed. A bunch of us met at a local bar/restaurant for lunch and a quick drink. As more and more people joined us, the quick drink turned out to be not so quick.

I have to start out by saying that my colleagues and friends here are such wonderful people. We have so much fun hanging out in and out of work. We laugh, share stories and make fun of each other. One thing that I have come to realize is that the relationships I have with my Liberian friends are so much different than the relationships I had with my Zambian friends. I owe that to the different level of work I am doing, the different living situation I am in, and the different culture here. I enjoy each of these experiences (in Liberia and in Zambia) in their own way. Both will hold a special place in me forever!

So, back to the party...We sat around drinking for a while and then the dancing began!We couldn't sit down- the music kept playing and the beers kept flowing!

As time went by, the crowd watching us from the sidewalk grew from zero, to about 10, to about 50. I can't blame them. White people dancing IS pretty exciting.

We had a great time although the 11 hour car ride to Monrovia the next morning really sucked...

I had such high hopes for the trip back to Zwedru. A few hours in and those hopes were dashed. We got stuck. And I don't mean stuck, I mean STUCK. And our winch was broken.

After admitting defeat, our driver sent someone to the closest village to recruit people to come help. For 3 hours we (...other people) shoveled the mud and jacked up the car and revved the engine and pushed forward and pulled backward. After all that, all that was accomplished was that the hole we were stuck in got deeper and the mud around the car got muddier. And I got to take more pictures from the sidelines. I offered to help, but honestly think I would've just been in the way! Finally, as the sun was setting and the thunder started rolling, a huge truck came by and pulled us out.

SUCCESS!

The End.

I learned many lessons the last time I was in Greenville. I brought them all with me this time! It hadn't rained very hard in a few days so the trip down was fast and easy. Too bad it rained everyday we were there. I was still able to enjoy a beautiful sunset though!

I went on this trip in order to monitor the clinics we trained in September and provide technical guidance wherever needed. WFP actually sent me alone this time... which I felt was a good thing. When I visit clinics with WFP staff I usually end up taking a back seat. Having the freedom to be alone and educate the clinic staff was really great and brought me back to the type of work I did in Zambia, which I really have been missing! It was so nice to be able to sit with clinic staff, work with them one-on-one, and see the different communities in which they live. Granted, we didn't spend much time at each clinic, I still feel it was helpful for them to get feedback on program implementation and have a chance to ask any questions they had. Over the 4 days we were there I was able to visit 10 clinics and hold a coordination meeting at the district hospital. Some of the clinics were good, some were bad, and the county health team still sucks, but overall I enjoyed the trip!

Please look carefully. A poor lizard got stuck in the paint droppings the renovators left behind. You should be able to make out the feet and the tail.

Poor guy. Why couldn't it have been the mouse?

1. Find him.

2. Use a broom to get him out from under the bed and trap him into a corner.

3. Have a brave friend who is willing to pick him up and release him outside.

Today I am heading down to Greenville. I am conducting some follow-up visits to the clinics we trained back on September. I have had no contact with them since then, so I am a little worried as to what I will find.

I am also a little more than worried about the roads. It took us 6 hours at the beginning of rainy season and things have only gotten worse since then! It actually took Ruthia 20 hours to go from Harper to Zwedru on Saturday... granted it is a different road, its still in the same vicinity. I have packed enough water and snacks in case we have to spend a night in the mud. Not entirely out of the picture!

Not to brag, but we threw a stellar birthday party today for one of our drivers, Frank. Ok, it was mostly Ruthia's idea, but either way, it was fun.

We spent all day getting ready: making a menu, cooking, and preparing our party games.The menu consisited of fried plantains and spam, sweet potato balls with pepper sauce, popcorn, plantain chips and drinks.

Our first party game was bowling. The bowling ally was made up of pieces of ply wood the guest house renovators had left behind, 6 1.5 L water bottles (filled), and a coconut (cut open, shelled, filled with rocks and duck taped back together). Now thats what I call being resourceful!

The second party game was a pinata. Our pinata (Ruthia's creative idea!) was created by covering blown up condoms with homemade paper mache. After it dried, we had 3 half circles which were later taped together to create an elongated soccer ball. You work with what you got.

Here are some highlights from the night:

Franks grand entrance (it was a surprise!). He was so excited, especially because it is the first birthday party he has ever had.

Bowling extravaganza!

Birthday cake cutting....

And the pinata!

Elsa threw a great dinner party last night.

Everyone brought dishes and lucky for me, 2 Zambians were invited. Knowing my absolute love for Zambian food, they cooked a bowl of nshima and some kapenta. Despite the other delicious dishes that everyone brought, I filled up on the nshima.

Last night I was laying in bed reading with my headlamp. I kept hearing noises on the other side of the room, near my food basket, but I could never see anything moving when I would shine my light in that area. I know the sound of a mouse when I hear one, and I was pretty sure that one was over there. I got out of bed 3 times to turn on the light and check things out. I shook my bucket, reclosed my basket, and kicked the desk and chair hoping to see something run away. Nothing. Maybe it was just the wind blowing the curtains. Or the generator. Or my imagination. But, I kept hearing it and I kept shining my headlamp over to the area. Then, finally, I saw something move INSIDE of my food basket! This basket to be exact:I jumped out of bed, switched on the light and went to investigate. There, inside the basket, was a tiny little mouse staring back at me. If look carefully at the pic below, you will see 2 little black eyes and a pink nose towards the right hand side of the pic. I had trapped him inside and to be honest, no matter how cute you think he is, my first thought was "HA! I've got you now, you little *&^%**&%!" With a huge smile on my face, I carried the basket outside, down the walkway, into the driveway and tipped it over, spilling out all of the contents, including he mouse. He ran away in a fury towards the generator shack. I win.

Last Thursday, we celebrated Liberian Thanksgiving. To be honest, I really didn't even know Liberia celebrated Thanksgiving until we were at our weekly meeting and they said we didn't have to come to work on Thursday. I can definitely give thanks for that.

After some Google time, I found out that for Liberians, the day is

"celebrated to give thanks to God and Americans for freeing the slaves and granting them Liberia in Africa to live as free men."I'm no Liberian history buff, but I'm pretty sure the slaves were sent back because they weren't needed anymore and they were no longer wanted in America- a "we're finished with you now so please leave" mentality. It was also thought that sending them to West Africa was preferable to emancipation in the US... or as Henry Clay put it, because of "unconquerable prejudice resulting from their color, they never could amalgamate with the free whites of this country. It was desirable, therefore, as it respected them, and the residue of the population of the country, to drain them off." Have you ever been thankful for being "drained off?"Oh, and they weren't 'granted' Liberia- The ACS sent ships to the coast of West Africa looking for a place to leave the 'freed' slaves. After some time they were able to bargain with (and threaten) the natives and buy Cape Mesurado (a strip of land near current day Monrovia). Here they could leave the 'freed slaves' to fend for themselves- against sickness, a new harsh environment, angry natives, and hunger. Let's all give thanks.But, despite all of this, Liberia does have a lot to be thankful for today. They have been out of war for about 7 years now, their land is full of natural resources (although sometimes being rich in these resources can be a curse and cause more harm than good. This is another story though....), and they have a President who is truly working towards turning the country around (example A). Our Zwedru Thanksgiving Day celebrations were actually pretty spectacular, not only because we didn't have to go to work, but because we got to eat a lot of food and didnt have to cook any of it. Or clean any of it up. There was no turkey or stuffing, but there were plantains, hot pepper sauce, fish, palm butter and chicken... all in the company of good friends. Now thats something to be thankful for!

Pasta Saturday was put on hold this week. Instead Ruthia, Roz and I decided to cook a meal for some of our WFP colleagues. They are always cooking for us, so this time it was our turn. Satisfying 5 Liberians at meal time is not an easy feat, unless you cook rice, fish and pepper soup. But even then, the fish needs to be fried correctly, the rice needs to be fluffy and the pepper soup needs just the right amount of kick to it.

After a long debate, we decided to cook Hawaiian chicken over rice, samosas and guacamole. We were lucky enough to find pineapple, chicken, and avacados in town (I am as shocked as you!). I made the guac, Ruthia took on the samosas (which were freaking delicious), and Roz made the Hawaiian chicken (also delicious!). Yeah, I got the easy dish.

When it came time to eat, everyone sat down at the table with looks of fear on their faces... It was obvious they didn't trust us. They all ate, but whether or not they liked it is still up for debate. We kept the beer flowing and everyone seemed to have a good time!

I will miss these people!

10/27/10

We are finally getting back into the field to do the work that has been piling up while the roads were deteriorating and our vehicles were broken down. Today we headed to Konobo District. My job was to check and see how the clinic has been doing since our training in August (we haven't been back since then so I was a little worried). Roz's job was to hand out ration cards to all the girls who should be recieving WFP food at the schools along the way (we headed out around 10am and most schools had already closed down for the day, so it wasn't a very successful mission. It is not rare to find school starting at 8 and ending at 10, if the teachers even show up. This topic deserves its own blog.). When I got to the clinic I was pleasantly surprised at how well they were doing. They had a few problems with their ledgers, but I have definitely seen worse. They haven't yet received their October food distribution (our food trucks can't make it with the roads the way they are), but when they do, I am sure they will be able to make the necessary changes and improve. I have found that the clinics way in the bush are implementing the program much better than the district hospital right around the corner. I found the same thing in Zambia- the health committees that were farther from the clinic were more motivated than those closer to the clinic. I have my theories as to why this is, but won't bore you with them. I, of course, had my camera with me to capture the excitement along the way. We had a HUGE several hour downpour the night before, so I knew we would run into something interesting along the way.

10/23/10 The UN Day celebrations have officially come to a close. After a few days of football matches, volleyball games and speeches, we closed out with a huge party here at the main compound. On Friday, Roz and I were recruited to help the women prepare the food for the party. Despite my attempts at getting the MEN to help prepare and cook, it all fell on the laps of us women. The men were busy playing sports and drinking. "Andrea, the men CANNOT possibly prepare the food. This is a woman's job." Yes it is a woman's job BECAUSE YOU ALLOW IT TO BE. Believe it or not, men CAN make french fries and fried chicken. THEY ARE PHYSICALLY ABLE TO. They just don't because the woman always quietly "assume their role" and let things carry on as they always have. If a woman can be a president of this war torn country, MEN CAN PEEL POTATOES. There goes that crazy white woman talk again.

We started preparing around 9 am and then were set up for the party by 7 pm. It started as more of a high school dance than a UN Party, judge for yourself....

By the way, I was NOT part of the decorating committe.

But, as the night went on, things started to pick up.

We were entertained by a magician from the Indian Battalion,

a singer from Uganda

and an awards ceremony (complete with speeches).

I owe all of my wonderful pictures of the party to this guy (Johnny, our WFP field monitor):

He took my camera around 7:30pm and returned it at midnight with a full card, a dead battery, and lasting memories of this eventful night.

Yesterday we went to a clinic about 60kms outside of Zwedru for our monthly monitoring visit. You may remember a few posts back when we first tried to do September monitoring and it was a... well, not a success. When we finally arrived (after pulling a bus through mud, going around several stuck trucks via a by-pass in the bush, and waiting for the Chinese road workers to poor some dirt onto the road that will turn into a huge mud hole in the next rains), I was SO happy to see how much their records had improved since our last visit. Signatures were obtained, MUAC measurements were recorded, and food was being distributed properly. Wha-freakin-hoo! They listened. And took initiative. And that makes me happy.

What doesn't make me happy is mud. LOTS OF MUD. I am off to Monrovia next week and don't want to see anymore mud. I'm hearing horror stories of it taking vehicles between 16 hours and 3 days to make the trek. Its 550kms away. Thats about 310 miles. It doesn't have to be like this.

Anyway, you would think that after so many months I would get sick of taking pictures of trucks stuck in mud. But you would be wrong. I even won the best transportation photo in the Peace Corps Liberia newsletter contest. Nevermind no one else entered.

Here are some pics from yesterday's trip:The UN roadworkers were trying to help in their spaceship-like machine, while all of the Liberians were standing around pissed off that they were making it worse, or as they say "Dey spoilin it-O!" I'm on the Liberian's side. Sometimes, when the road is blocked, the only option you have is to take the bush route.Here, we couldn't go on the left of the white truck....So we went to the right of the green truck.And now, one of my favorites. Yes, that is a leg sticking out from under the truck. But he wasn't run over. He's trying to shovel out the mud from underneath the tires. That job must suck.

The best way to end a day like this is watching the UN Civilians play the Indian batallion in football as a way to start the UN Day Celebrations that will be going on all week.

About two weeks ago, my house mate and I decided to go into town for an early Sunday morning egg sandwich. On the way there we found a restaurant serving rice and potato greens- a classic Liberian dish and one of my favs. You probably think we are crazy but we decided to have our breakfast here rather than go for the egg sandwich.Later that day, I started not feeling alright. I don't blame the rice and greens solely, but a culmination of everything I put in my body that weekend- cheese, fried chicken, beer, pringles, oreos, pasta, etc. I was still sort of getting over a small bout of possible giardia from the previous weekend, but that didn't stop me from the usual weekend binge. Come on, you know me better than that. Yet, this time it wasn't so much the cramping and diarrhea but the burning in my upper abdomen and diarrhea. This of course led to the hemorrhoids that I am still dealing with. Yeah I said it. No shame. Don't act like its never happened to you. Especially if you've ever been a Peace Corps volunteer.So, fast forward to yesterday. Ruthia and I met for lunch at King's Lodge Restaurant. I had the pepper soup and fufu. She got the rice and potato greens (I haven't been able to eat them for 2 weeks, due to the beginning of the tragic aversion to my once favorite food). As we were sitting there eating our lunch I look over and see Ruthia examining her fish very intently. In slow motion, she looks over at me, hands me her plate and says, very calmly, "My fish is moving." "What? Your fish is moving?!" Sure enough I look down and see tons of tiny white maggots crawling around in her fish. You can go vomit now. I almost did. After getting rid of the piece of fish (and having the waitress say she will happily bring us a new piece.... um, no thanks.), Ruthia again looks over at me, and as if she was deep in thought asks "Well, whats the worst that can happen if you eat maggots? Explosive diarrhea?" " Yeah, probably." "Ok, I can handle that. Just as long as I can't get tape worm." Now, I've had tape worm. And I've seen maggots crawling around in fish. I prefer tape worm. Today I go for lunch at my usual place (Munah Planet bar and restaurant) where I always get the jollof rice. Of course today, for the first time ever, they didn't have it (when I asked why they said because it is cool out and people can't eat jollof rice when it is cool out. Duh.) Well, OF COURSE they have rice and potato greens. Ok, I'm starving, I'll give it a whirl. But when it came to the table, I couldn't eat it. I could not eat it. Nope. No way. My abdomen started burning. My hemorrhoids started acting up. I immediately felt like going to the bathroom. Pictures of maggots were floating around in my head. It was a horrible day. I had to admit to myself that my meals of rice and potato greens may have come to an end. Bon Appetit.

Cell phones were just beginning to hit the market when I left Zambia. It drove me crazy to see people in my village buying cell phones when they couldn't even afford to feed their families. I get that it was a status symbol (and the argument can be made that we do the same in the States), but COME ON!!! You have children to feed and clothe and send to school. And you beg me for things everyday. Buy some maize meal. Not 'talk time.'When I got to Liberia, the first thing Peace Corps told me was that I needed to get a cell phone. I had one in my hands less than 5 hours after my plane touched down in Monrovia and I only had to walk 1 block from the hotel to get it. It didn't take me long to realize that EVERYONE here, Peace Corps or not, has a cell phone. Granted, there are no land lines because they were destroyed during the war and it was decided it wasn't worth the money to restore them when they could just go cellular, but I was still surprised. We even have a phone number column on our attendance sheets for all the meetings we attend.Name Position Phone # Signature

I must admit that the popularity of cell phones has made my life much easier. Rather than walk 30 minutes to the hospital to ask someone a question or set up a meeting, I can just call them (or email them, but thats another story that I will eventually get to). But, on second thought, I like the walk. I like the person to person contact. I like showing my face at the hospital because it makes me a real person and people get to know me. And on a slow day, there is nothing else to do but walk. Unless its raining. Like it is now. Being the white person, I get "flashed"/"beeped" (calling someones phone, letting it ring once and hanging up, hoping they will call you back so you don't have to use any of your minutes) constantly because everyone feels that I will be willing to spend MY talk time (and my hard earned HUGE Peace Corps salary), when they don't want to spend theirs. News flash- if you 'beep' me, I will NOT call you back. If the conversation is important enough to you, you will spend the 10 cents a minute to talk to me. If not, send me a text message. Or even better, walk to my office. Walking is nice. Unless its raining. Like it is now.Surprisingly, even though EVERYONE has a phone here, it still seems to be a status symbol. Ring tone volumes are always set to maximum levels (so everyone can hear it ring within a 5 mile radius and then look your way) and phones are never picked up on the first, or second, or third, or fourth, or even sometimes fifth ring (you want to make sure everyone has heard and acknowledged that someone is calling you and the max volume may not be enough by itself. But surely if you let it go for 10 or 15 seconds no one will miss the opportunity to pay you the attention you deserve). Don't get my started on hands free calls. I have actually gotten used to all of these things (while still finding them annoyingly humorous), but something new happened today.I received two emails from a guy I work with at the hospital. These are not the first emails I have ever received from him, but they were the first ones that I had to read a few times to really convince myself that I was reading things correctly. Here the emails:1. I have d 1st assessment copies from d OICs of 11 clinics. I'm following up with my bosses for d real request for dat program (DOTs centers). B4 d day ends, I'll give u a call & d copies from d clinics. I'm not pay death ear 2 d progress of d program.Thanks

2. Andrea,Dis is why I'm in d office since 7:am dis morning. Pls wait on me 2morrow morning. ASAP when we meet in d morning I'm going 2 make sure that Netus do these letters b4 anything.Thanks

Now, after ignoring some of the crazy English (I'm not pay death ear?! I think he meant hes not turning a deaf ear, but who am I to say? ), do you see what I see?? HE'S EMAILING ME WITH TEXT MESSAGING SHORTCUTS!!! He has completely pushed professionalism aside in favor of text messaging lingo. OMG. WTF?

I have seen enough motorbike accidents in the past 3 months to last me a lifetime. So you can probably imagine my excitement when I learned that the YMCA was holding "Motorbike Safety classes" here in town. Of the approximately 1 million motorbikes (a small exaggeration, but close enough) in Zwedru, I would say about 20% attended. I know this because all of the "graduates" received a safety vest and a helmet to wear while driving their bikes. Of every 10 motorbikes that pass me, about 2 are wearing the "graduate" gear.

Saturday was the last day of the training. The classes closed with a motorbike parade around town. A few drivers took this as a prime opportunity to impress the ladies and show off tricks (that they learned in class?) such as standing up, sitting wayyyy back, lifting feet up off pedals etc.

I've decided that what used to be a chaotic swarm of motorbike drivers racing around town is now a chaotic swarm of motorbike drivers in bright orange YMCA safety vests with bright red helmets racing around town.

I got approval today to come home before Christmas! My official Close of Service date was set for January 9th. We are allowed to move that date up by 2 weeks with approval just from the Monrovia office. If we want to move the date up more than 2 weeks, we need approval from the head office in DC. Two weeks before January 9th is December 26th. Great timing PC! As long as we can prove that we will be done with our work before Christmas, they can't really keep us here. So, See you all in December. But don't expect any gifts. Unless you want some Liberian hot peppers, a pile of mud, a cup of village rice, or dead monkey meat.