This Year in Sierra Leone

One Year Later...

2008-10-26T04:55:00.017Z

It's over. Done-done, as they say in Sierra Leone. Given the rather strange twists and turns of the past year, I'm not sure whether to lament its passing or just breathe a sigh of relief. Mixed emotions, you might call it. Four friends and I gave ourselves the best farewell party in Makeni history, takin' over the hillside Scout Hall with more than 100 friends, coworkers, friends of friends, DJs, scouts, random uninvited dudes, and kids from the 'hood below.

[The banner in the photo is a reference to a very popular song in Africa called "Do Me" in case you were wondering.]

Pa Foday (left) was my neighbor. Monsignor (right) was a cleaner where I worked. I went on a little giving spree before I left, and these two share the award for best reaction to the gift. Pa Foday never asked me for anything -- a simple hello or a wave from across the compound was good enough for him. Monsignor, on the other hand, could beg with the best of them -- "Ohhh my friend, today the belly is empty!" Their happiness at the sight of a used bedsheet or a pair of beat-up shoes was good to see. I liked these two because it was clear that, regardless of their approach to seeking help, a little respect was always more important than the spare change or leftover food I might have to offer.

Mackay, Rachael and I blending together in our crisp new White-Man-Leaving-Africa gift shirts.

Last year in Sierra Leone, in one word? Unforgettable. Whether or not I did any good for the country, I don't know. But I certainly hope Sierra Leoneans can rise out of poverty one day. The government doesn't always give me much confidence. 'Paradise,' the beach bar in this photo, was demolished recently (along with many other popular bars) as part of a government "beautification" project. Read my friend Jared's story from The National.

Moyamba Mamba?

2008-09-25T10:41:00.009Z

On a visit to our fellow volunteer Dale, who’s been marooned in Moyamba all year, we got a taste of small-town Sierra Leone, where life moves at an even more glacial pace than in Makeni. But that’s what made it great.

Dale’s house sits right on a river near a beautiful stick bridge that he helped build, with pumpkin patches and banana trees all around. I wanted to go tubing down the narrow river, but in the absence of tube-like objects, we decided to float and scoot our bodies downstream. Over the rocks and around the dam we went, and then I saw it. A snake reared its slimy head about 10 yards in front of us and zipped straight across the river with its head above water the whole way. It seemed to have popped up and surveyed the scene like a cartoon submarine (look left, look right), spied us and darted for cover. Smart snake. We did exactly the same, abandoning our simple river cruise in a heartbeat.

Me, Helen, Diya, Dale, James, and a bamboo backyard bench.

My best teenage reporter for Pikin News was jailed a couple weeks ago for stealing various things (including, oddly enough, a laminator) from his parents and selling them off to friends. A visit to a Sierra Leonean police station is a bit like walking into The Andy Griffith Show – minus the electricity. The boy slept a few nights in a cell at the back of the station. As I waited for the cop to bring him out and talk to me, I noticed the number of suspects in custody was written on a chalkboard. That number went up from 27 to 30 while I stood there. I imagined them fighting for the five beds and sitting around with nothing to say but, “So…what are you in for?” “Stole my mom's laminator again.”

My story about the lack of morphine in Sierra Leone aired on a public radio show called World Vision Report. Listen here.

Rainy Routine Breaker

2008-08-23T12:02:00.012Z

Living in Makeni is kinda like swimming the length of a pool underwater. It’s a fun challenge, but after a while you just gotta come up for air. Itching for a breather, we took a weekend at Sierra Leone’s old faithful: the beach. August is the rainiest month of the rainy season, but we didn’t care. We just wanted out.

On arrival in the tiny fishing village at Mama Beach, we saw the wooden sign nailed to a tree. Warning: Poro Society Area – KEEP OUT. Given the mystery and rumors surrounding this male secret society, we weren’t sure what to make of this. James summoned the courage to ask an old man about it, and he replied, “Oh, that’s just to keep the tourists away.” Ah ha. Tourists. Yes, wouldn’t want to see any of those around here…

Funny thing about the beach in the off-season, the guest houses are all closed. Go figure. So up the hill and down the empty road we trod, four crazy foreigners looking for a taxi in the pouring rain. We took shelter in a cozy security post beside the road, where the guard was reading the New Testament and simply described the jumble of giant, rusted equipment behind him as “The Company.”

Eventually we flagged down a taxi to Kent, where we persuaded the lone guest house to take us in. Despite one ultra-rainy day, the weekend was filled with naps and swims, frisbees and lobsters. In other words, success.

The kids and I went to a rural village to report on early marriage. During the village chief’s interview, he kept repeating something like this: “It is unacceptable to send your child to marriage before she reaches the age of fourteen or fifteen!” After that she’s fair game, sell at any price, he seemed to be saying. Some people have a different definition of the term early marriage.

On the same trip, we went to mass and the priest asked “What is it that brings happiness to your life?” and waited for answers. Right away, a man in a back pew shouted “Rum!” That drew a few laughs (though it wasn’t a joke), but then he was one-upped by the next guy who very earnestly said, “Well, the time that I can really feel true happiness…is after I go toilet.” Amen, brother.

Deep Thoughts...

2008-07-28T20:24:00.008Z

Sierra Leone is the color of a baseball field. Betcha no one else has noticed that.

As it turns out, burning trash is a great way to pass the time.

If you are a radio station and you play the same 5-second sound bite more than twice in a row, I will not listen to you.

So you have two free hands, but you'd still rather carry that spiral notebook on your head. Really?

I don't care how many mosquitoes he may have eaten. Given the choice between helping a broken-winged bat and watching him die, I shall take the latter every time.

Everyone lives in a 'compound.' I thought that term was reserved for Branch Davidians and Mormon fundamentalists in Texas? At least that's what CNN told me.

Suddenly, corned beef in a can is delicious. What happened?

If I had a nickel for every time I woke up at 6:30 to the sound of sweeping...

It is sometimes more important to get that new phone with the hottest hip-hop ringtone than it is to eat.

I am white, so I must be James or Mike or Jim. Or Lebanese or Chinese. This must be how bald black men felt back in the day when white kids would gawk: "Look! Is that Michael Jordan?!"

If today you have not eaten rice, then today you have not eaten.

The Lone Tourists

2008-07-14T16:53:00.020Z

People don't come to Sierra Leone for vacation. Except for my parents. On their arrival, we pushed and shoved our way through a crowd of taxi drivers fighting (literally) for our business outside the airport. By the time we reached the motel, it was 2 AM; we had waited three hours for the ferry to Freetown and traversed ultra-bumpy roads, my dad stepped into a hole in the sidewalk, and a man in nothing but a Speedo welcomed us to our room which had no towels and a missing bed. Ah, welcome to my life.

In 10 days of African adventure, my parents zipped around on the back of motorbikes (including once with luggage on the world's worst road), took ice-cold bucket baths, ate street meat of unknown origin, slept under mosquito nets on broken beds, climbed a 15-foot ladder to watch chimpanzees from a treehouse in the forest, nearly got swept out to sea by a strong current, drove through the middle of a political rally, got hassled at police checkpoints, and danced in church. They deserve a trophy. Sierra Leone: If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.

The kids of Makeni were thrilled with the white strangers. These are my little neighbors, sporting their patriotic visors and soccer ball courtesy of Mom and Dad.

Some kid stole my watch the other day at the river. Add it to my long list of lost luxuries: Mets hat (stolen while camping), watch (stolen while swimming), $50 (stolen while dancing), laptop (struck by lightning), boxers (stretched by laundry boy), flashlights (too many to remember), college t-shirt (forgotten at friend's house), cooking gas (now unavailable in town), water pump (broken), generator (always broken), towel (vanished in laundry), cell phone (soaked in river), and phone chargers (zapped by unstable power).

There was a huge drug seizure at the airport last weekend. A United Nations friend of ours was evacuated from Port Loko (near the airport) because he is the only white man in town and local residents suspected him of involvement. Sometimes I feel like I'm living in the Wild West...

Bintumaniacs

2008-06-19T18:49:00.018Z

Climbing the second highest mountain in West Africa during the rainy season without a tent or a plan didn't seem like the brightest idea. I went into the trip with a healthy dose of pessimism, but we did indeed scale Mount Bintumani (6,000 feet) -- bottom to top in one long day.

Five of us guys hired a beastly old Nissan Patrol to power us along the "road" from the northern town of Kabala to Sinikoro village near the base of the mountain. Over two rivers and through the woods, the 60-mile journey took us five hours.

We reached the village and slept in the chief's house. Below, Jared presents the chief with some tea and small money to keep him happy. All agreed that our brief stay there was rather surreal.

Four village boys scored jobs as guides and porters for us, and we hit the trail. Though I had a relatively small backpack, it was maybe the most difficult hike of my life. Straight up for five hours. Finally we burst out of the dense jungle and into a grassy savanna that seemed like heaven.

My victory dance after the upward march.

Then some dudes were waiting for us on top of a big rock, and one of them, 'The Director,' was the only one who knew the way to the summit. Yes it was a scam, but we were in a race against the sun so we followed him up and away.

I spent most of that night huddled by the fire with a bunch of strangers under a hut, trying desperately to keep warm enough to sleep through the howling winds. Note to self: bring warm stuff to mountain. But we returned unscathed in the end, albeit with very sore knees.

The next weekend I went to the National Stadium in Freetown to watch the Sierra Leone national soccer team (the Leone Stars) pull off a shocking upset of South Africa (1-0). The best part was after the game: we hitched a ride in the bed of a police pickup truck and ended up right in front of the team's motorcade, speeding through the streets filled with screaming fans.

This is Africa

2008-05-26T11:38:00.015Z

My Italian friend Anna, who is a United Nations human rights officer, invited a few of us to help her give a workshop on "Journalism and Human Rights" in Kambia (see Dec. 19 post). It turned out to be quite an eye-opening weekend. First, we heard loud screams right outside the gate at our friend Doctor Tom's house. A woman was flogging her 12-year-old sister because she had nabbed a handful of cassava leaves from the family pot. The shirtless girl cried the pain away while her sister laughed and we tried to gently explain why child abuse is wrong.

The next day Tom gave us a partial tour of the government hospital where he works. We saw a just-arrived three-year-old boy with cerebral malaria. He had been convulsing and when we showed up he moaned in bed while his terrified mother wept in the corner and his father tried to take him home. We moved to the newly opened Therapeutic Feeding Center where seven severely malnourished children sat in their mothers' laps. The current global food crisis directly affects most people here as they simply eat less because food is too expensive. Kambia Hospital admits new cases everyday and the demand is far more than they can accomodate. Finally we moved to a much happier ward next door: Maternity. There we saw two sets of newborn twins. Tom had just delivered two of the tiny tots by C-section the day before. Supposedly they've been named Dr. Tom.

On the workshop's final day, we split the reporters into groups and set out to record one human rights-related interview in town. My group chose the local police station to interview a 14-year-old girl who had been allegedly raped by her teacher. When we arrived, she was seated next to another girl and a woman. The woman had accused her ex-husband of quietly selling her daughter to someone in Freetown three years ago, and the daughter had recently been spotted selling water in the streets there. The other girl was being forced into early marriage by her family. Then, after our uncomfortable interview, a rather dishevelled woman arrived holding her two-year-old's limp body. The little boy had a bloody nose, beaten unconscious by his father. They raced to the hospital and Tom took care of them (they were fine). I left there with my head spinning. It was like a roll call of topics from the kids' news show I produce: sexual exploitation, child trafficking, early marriage, child abuse -- all in one small room in the span of about 20 minutes. Just another day at a Sierra Leone police station.

And back in Makeni, the rainy season is on its way and lightning struck my laptop, killing it on the spot. Sigh. All I can do is shrug it off and remember what they say: T.I.A. -- This is Africa.

Guinea Up and Go Conakrazy

2008-05-06T12:02:00.011Z

I went to Conakry, the capital of Guinea, which borders Sierra Leone. It's less than 100 miles from here, but a world apart. Guinea is a former French colony, so they speak French and there's an amazing cafe where we enjoyed a $20 buffet. That's more than twice my daily budget here, but oh boy was it worth it. The music is great there -- we went to a jazz bar one night and ended up hanging out with the band. I traveled with 4 Canadian journalists, 2 Irish teachers, 1 Scottish doctor, and a partridge in a pear tree. Strangely enough, we went largely unnoticed in the streets. White people just aren't such a big deal there. A nice change from Sierra Leone.

Guinea is a dictatorship and they're not afraid to show it. Mean-looking soldiers with big guns greeted us as soon as we crossed the border, examined our passports and immunization records at late-night checkpoints in town, and collected countless bribes from our poor taxi drivers. We somehow escaped Guinea without paying a single bribe. Luckily they weren't very persistent with their demands. Just say no.

We rented a house at the Catholic Mission in Conakry. For whatever reason, they have a crocodile. See that door? Yeah, it's held shut with a bit of twine. Not what you want to see when your bedroom is just around the corner. Above is one of our shaky attempts to feed the thing.

This insane tree climber picked mangoes and dropped them into a big sack that I held at the bottom. He was probably 40 feet high. I knew my time as a left fielder would pay off someday.

We took this boat to a small island and the man above was a constant source of entertainment. He belted out religious songs in French and wouldn't let us touch the water (much less swim) because the devil would get us. Here he's practicing his English by reading our guidebook. Rachael and random guy on the right look very impressed.

Goodnight, Conakry.

Slogans Galore

2008-04-18T09:25:00.006Z

A poda-poda or truck in Sierra Leone isn't complete without a slogan painted on front and back. Many are religious, some are public service announcements, others are just plain whack.

Take your pick:

Loose You Face (smile!)
God's Time Is The Best
Manners Make Man
All Eyes On Me
Respect The Elders
Relax, God Is In Control
God Bless Islam
Mother's Blessing
Respect Woman
Respect Police
Nor Vex (Don't be angry)
In God We Trust
God Bless The Owner
To Be A Man Is Not Easy
Back Up

Temne Magic

2008-04-08T09:50:00.019Z

I went to a sleepy town called Mile 91 (named for its distance from Freetown) for the 15th Anniversary celebration of James' employer, The Future in Our Hands. It featured a lively display of traditional dancing and magic from the Temne tribe.

This is James bustin' a move with a Temne dancer. Check out the smiles all around. They love it.

Mackay: "Impossible! It's too small, he can't fit in there. No way." Guess what happened next.

The woman in blue is a ferocious drummer. The little kid in blue is a huge Giants fan.

Secret societies are big here. A youth society performed ritual dances, featuring this 'devil' who wore Hello Kitty mittens as he twirled.

They Said It Couldn't Be Done

2008-03-26T19:18:00.014Z

Five other dudes and I went to Sherbro Island for Easter. We rented this poda-poda for the long, bumpy journey and then jumped on a 4-hour boat ride down a beautiful river to reach Bonthe, a curious old town on the island.

From Bonthe we planned to find a beach on the other side of the island for camping. Easier said than done. We asked around and the general consensus was that boats were too expensive for a volunteer budget and hiking there was too difficult. However, one local man said it best: "Oh, there is no path. It will not be possible to reach there...but you are on a mission and you cannot be stopped." So we found a random boy to guide us and set out the next morning.

On the way out of town, we watched this blacksmith make machetes for us (just in case). Very impressive.

During the hike, we trekked across this swamp (James, Jason, and guides Alpha and Crew above) and sank into mud up to our thighs. We passed through lots of tiny villages along the way and stopped briefly to greet the chief of each one. Six white guys with giant packs entering their remote village must have been a sight to see.

After five hours, we reached the promised land: miles of untouched beach stretching as far as the eye could see. The beachfront villagers of Gbalo greeted us with open arms. Most of them didn't speak a word of English or Krio (they speak the island language, Sherbro). Above, our new friends watch as we transform their hut into our camp for the night.

Dinner and I, together at last.

The hike back to Bonthe included a drinking water shortage, an endless march through 100-degree desert, a rattlesnake, a village swim, and a dugout canoe ride along the island coast. We all came back in one piece. Mission accomplished.

Make Some Noise

2008-03-18T18:40:00.002Z

We saw a rapper named Bu-Berry perform at the soccer field on Saturday night. It was expectedly lame, so my friend Mackay said "Hey, let's get up on stage" as a way to combat boredom. Soon enough, six of us bounded up onto the rickety setup and were greeted by a thunderous roar from a few hundred of our closest Makeni friends. We danced around like fools for one song and then backed away before we completely stole the show from the poor guy. But honestly, Bu-Berry needed us. After our cameo he screamed into the mike, "Make some noise for the white people!!" Oh, what a night.

Believe it or not, a few hours later I was sitting in the second row of the cathedral for Palm Sunday mass. Different crowd from the night before, I think.

In other news, my radio feature about Maine ice fishing aired on the NPR show Weekend America and is featured on the public radio website Hearing Voices. Check it out.

What's My Name?

2008-02-19T20:09:00.005Z

My friends somehow convinced me to grow this wacky beard-ish thing. Should it stay or should it go?

I am a man of many names here. My African name is Issifu (or my spelling: Izzy-foo), in honor of a little kid with a runny nose I met at the beach. Our friend Yamba recently started calling me Emmanuel Grant "because it sounds good." My last name usually becomes either Fullah (an African tribe) or Fulham (an English soccer team). And Pa Foday, the ancient man who sleeps in a burned-out building near my front door, apparently thinks my name is Mr. Brown. My neighbor once asked him why he calls me that. He slowly lifted his head to look at me and stammered, "Notto you name?" Fair enough, old Pa. Call me as you wish.

I camped on the beach last weekend with four other guys. We slept under palm-branch huts with the crabs until a giant rainstorm soaked us and we went running for shelter at the nearby beach bar. The next day we were supposed to eat giant lobsters that my friend Mohamed had been saving for us, but they were stolen overnight. When we finally left, there were no taxis in sight because of the fuel crisis (a gallon of gas shot up to about $7 over the weekend). With no other option, we walked a couple miles up the road, kicking around half a coconut shell until we found a lone taxi ready to overcharge us.

Then it was on to Freetown for a Filipino karaoke party. It was fairly uneventful until a bunch of Filipino girls started line dancing to a heavily accented rendition of Achy Breaky Heart. Fantastic.

Game Time

2008-02-07T19:18:00.000Z

Apparently it's Track and Field season. Last week I took a bus full of radio kids to "Sports Day" at a school in Magburaka, 20 minutes from here. Everyone ran in their socks or barefoot on the dirt track, just like in Chariots of Fire. All running events ended with someone passing out at the finish line or before -- guess no one told them to hydrate before the race. My girls ran a 4x100 meter relay as special guests from Radio Maria and they finished a solid second place. The boys were supposed to run, but they were preempted when chaotic victory celebrations on the field after every race forced the organizers to quit early. The above photo is from this week's Sports Day at Saint Francis secondary school for boys, which is next door to my workplace.

Some highlights from Magburaka:

My personal favorite event -- the Tug-of-Peace.

The Disabled 100 meters. The girl in yellow busted out with an amazing victory dance when she was given her award of one Snickers.

These kids are fast.

I helped another VSO with kid control at the Makeni library on Saturday. After coloring and lots of Play-doh fun, we played a fine game of chicken-chicken-monkey. You never see ducks or geese around here anyway. And it's funnier with that name.

The Ex-Combatant Life

2008-02-03T19:14:00.000Z

Last week's Pikin News topic was street children. We interviewed a 14-year-old boy named Franklin who lives in the town square and is a former rebel soldier. That means he couldn't have been more than 6 years old when he was taken from his family, given an AK-47 and forced to join the Revolutionary United Front. He now sleeps on top of tables in the market and pushes wheelbarrow loads to pay for his school fees. Franklin hasn't seen his family since the war.

Speaking of boy soldiers, you should read A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah. Rumors have begun here that a Hollywood film called Child Soldier (based on this book) is in the works and a crew is coming to Makeni next month to begin research. They're rushing to finish building the new hotel in town to accommodate them. So I hear.

An Unexpected Visitor

2008-01-20T17:08:00.000Z

Yesterday was a good day. I saw David Beckham! You know, the British soccer star married to Posh Spice -- arguably the world's most famous man (outside the US). He visited in his role as UNICEF Goodwill ambassador. A fellow VSO helped organize his visit to a local hospital, but the whole thing was a covert operation so she couldn't tell any of us about it. Otherwise the entire population of Sierra Leone would have flocked to Makeni. Rumors were flying around town in the afternoon, so I decided to see for myself. A coworker and I caught the last five minutes of his appearance, just long enough to snap a few photos and brag to friends. Still can't figure out how I lived in New York City for a year and a half without seeing one big star, but I come to freakin' Makeni, Sierra Leone and get this close to David Beckham. Crazy.

Click here to read more about Beckham's visit.

We climbed one of the local hills (sort of Enchanted Rock-like), which was nice but not easy. This is James, me, ABJ and the requisite random boy with slingshot, strikin' a pose. We asked that boy what he wanted to be when he grew up. He said, "I want to go to America." We asked what he would do there. "Wash toilets." Sigh.

Finally, Pikin News was much better this week...virtually hiccup-free. The topic was the Child Rights Act which Sierra Leone passed in 2007. But we did have to settle for a replacement studio guest because our first choice was the UNICEF officer and, well -- Beckham was in town.

If You're in Austin...

2008-01-16T19:58:00.000Z

StoryCorps Book Tour
BookPeople, 6th & Lamar, Austin TX
January 29th, 7:30 PM

Dave Isay, founder of StoryCorps, will speak and sign books. You can go and send African greetings for me.

Listening is an Act of Love reached number 18 on the New York Times bestseller list. Big thanks to all of you who snagged a copy.

The World We Want

2008-01-08T18:25:00.000Z

Click here to listen to a short radio piece the kids and I produced for our debut edition of Pikin News last month.

The kids interviewed are speaking Krio, saying things like "I want a world where...there is light/water/food/good roads, where they pay our teachers, where kids have rights, where we don't suffer..." etc.

I apologize for getting a bad children's song stuck in your head.

A Day in the Life of Me

2008-01-07T18:23:00.001Z

I wrote this for the VSO website:

Jerry calls my name softly from outside the window. It’s 7:15 – time for my morning run with the local boy who washes our clothes. The 20-minute jog is filled with little kids yelling “White man!” in the Temne language, and I usually greet several people I know along the way, given the small size of Makeni. After the run, I enjoy the luxury of a quick shower, but I try to conserve water so as to delay the need to crank up the generator and pump water from the well again. I eat some bread, bananas or green oranges for breakfast and take my antimalarial pill, then hop on my bicycle for the 10-minute ride to work.

I park the bike in my shared office at Radio Maria at 9am, then walk next door to the Fatima Institute, where my students are waiting in class. I give a small lecture on proper radio interviewing techniques and give some practical recording equipment training. At 11:00, I head back to the radio station to train staff and volunteers how to use the computer audio editing software in the studio. There is no electricity supply in Makeni, so at 12:15 the power is cut off to give the generators a rest. Once the power is gone, the people are gone.

I find an ‘okada,’ or motorbike, at the nearby junction and take it to the middle of town, where I have three main choices for lunch. They all serve the same dishes, depending on what’s been prepared that day, but I go to my favorite one to get a hefty plateful of jollof rice with meat. It beats the other option of cassava leaves or some variation on cassava leaves. There is always another VSO friend or two in the restaurant, so we go to the market together afterwards for the day’s shopping. I pick up some green beans or pasta at the only true mini-mart in town, then find some good local bread and oranges from the street vendors. Then I take an okada home and try to rest for a couple hours in the blazing afternoon heat. I sit on the porch and chat with the neighbors, listen to the radio, and watch people file into the ‘poyo’ hut next door to drink palm wine to their heart’s content. Before leaving, I boil a pot of water and pour it in the filter for drinking later.

By the time I return to work at 4pm, the power is back on and I am sweating. A lot. I take a minute’s refuge in the radio station’s only air conditioned room, then I meet with a large group of kids who are producing a children’s radio news program with me. I work with them for a while under the big mango tree out front, and then they disperse before dark. That’s my cue to attempt to connect to the internet at the Fatima Institute, which has the only public internet access in town. After a drink or a small bite to eat from the student canteen, I take my flashlight down the road, strap on my helmet, and hold on for the okada ride to another VSO house just up the highway from my own.

Since I am useless in a kitchen, my VSO friends are nice enough to feed me delicious Indian food for dinner. We eat by candlelight, talk about the day’s ups and downs, and share some chocolates that some kind soul has brought from Freetown.

I walk along the dark road to my house, greet the night watchman and go inside to light some candles. By this time I am exhausted, it is dark, and there is nothing to do except go to bed. I do my best to stay awake until 10pm, and then I can’t take it anymore. The bed is calling my name. I crawl under the mosquito net and roll onto my tie-dyed gara bed sheet. I try to tune out the roar of the football fans in the hut across the street and get ready for another day in Sierra Leone.

Island Xmas + Mountain New Year

2008-01-03T10:53:00.000Z

I spent Christmas on Banana Island where Julian, Diya, Jayne (VSO friends) and I did a whole bunch of nothing for four days. When you order lobster for dinner, they swim out to the trap just offshore and grab one for you. It's that kind of place. We saw a few monkeys in the forest and plenty of bats at the beach -- this time they spared me their poop, thank goodness. Banana Island was an important part of the Atlantic slave trade, so they have a modest museum just outside the guest house. A wacky little woman gave us the museum tour. At one point she picked up two whip-like sticks and said with a straight face, "This is what they used back then to flog the slaves...and this one is what we use now to flog our children." How do you respond to that? It was pretty funny in a sad kind of way if you know what I mean.

On the way to the island, I also visited Tacugama Chimpanzee Sanctuary, where they are rehabilitating chimps that were rescued from captivity. Chimp genes are 98% the same as humans, so it's interesting to watch them. But the whole place is very un-zoo-like since the idea is to eventually reintegrate them into the wild. Unfortunately, Tacugama is now famous for a recent tragedy where some adult chimps escaped their enclosure, were spooked by a truck full of people and ended up killing one man. Tacugama survived the war, so I'm sure it will recover from that incident. Oh, and they have a chimp named Grant. Sweet.

Our final vacation stop was Kabala, which is the coldest town in Sierra Leone. It's super hot in the afternoon, but at night it is actually sweater-worthy cold. We danced around a bonfire all night at a super-fun club on New Year's Eve, then we hiked up to a mountaintop celebration on New Year's Day. The mountain was beautiful until the entire town's population showed up all at once -- then it was just hot and crowded. But I tried my luck at the ring toss and won a package of cookies, so I hiked back down the steep trail a happy man.

Best wishes for 2008...

The Impact of War

2007-12-19T10:42:00.000Z

Last weekend a journalism student named Alhassan took me to Kambia, which is about four hours from Makeni on a terrible excuse for an international highway, near the border with Guinea. I stayed at the Catholic mission where Alhassan used to be an altar boy, in a house with two Italian priests who have been in Sierra Leone for decades.

Kambia was completely devastated by the eleven-year rebel war. The ruins of once-beautiful homes are everywhere, as the rebels simply took over the town, stole property, then looted and destroyed everything when they left.

These kids are playing soccer in the street, with another reminder of the war in the background.

It is obvious that Kambia was once an amazing little town, with a beautiful river, rolling hills and palm trees. The rusted remains of light poles dot the now-darkened streets. It is very sad to see such wasted potential in a town like this. The destruction in Makeni was not so bad because the rebels used it as their headquarters. In Kambia, every other building speaks of the terrible things that happened there.

Pikin News

2007-12-10T20:45:00.000Z

Yesterday was the International Children's Day of Broadcasting, sponsored by UNICEF. I've been working with a group of 30 kids (12-16 years old) called Children of God for the past month or so to produce a kids' radio news program. We aired the debut edition of Pikin News ('pikin' means child in Krio) yesterday with only minor hitches. The kids did most of the work and I served as their producer. They focused the first show on the problem of teen pregnancy in Sierra Leone, so we had field interviews and a panel discussion. The next topic will probably be child trafficking. We hope to start producing Pikin News weekly. The kids are fun to work with, although it is exhausting to deal with them. We've heard good feedback from people around the country, and the Director of the radio station wants the program to continue. So it looks like that will be a big part of my work here, which is a good thing.

This is Thomas and Victor at the radio station where I work. The window on the right is my office.
I went around town with a few of the kids last week to interview people about teen pregnancy, including one 15-year-old mother. The most interesting stop was at Magbenteh Community Hospital, where a few friends of mine work. We entered a doctor's office to interview him, and right away his cell phone rang. He answered and calmly said, "Yes, it is definitely cancer. She must be amputated." Then we visited the Therapeutic Feeding Center, where malnourished children go to rehabilitate. There we met a tiny boy named Foday who was, quite literally, just skin and bones. He was surviving with only milk, but I hear he is eating a bit now.

People are incredibly difficult to work with here. Nobody can work as a team and they don't trust each other. Everyone suspects everyone else of being corrupt. They are incapable of holding a meeting without an out-of-control screaming match. Even the kids accuse their group president of being a corrupt criminal. And this is supposed to be a Christian radio station. We had a ridiculous outburst last week and I was stuck in the middle. It involved the money (of course) which I budgeted and gave to the kids' coordinator to pay the caterers for yesterday. It's certainly not worth going into much detail here because it should never have been an issue. Basically, a couple people were upset that we were spending too much money on food and they didn't know about it. I guess they thought the money would find a better home in their own pockets. Anyway, after plenty of accusations, threats, and near-fistfights right in front of the kids, the whole thing sort of blew over. Days like that one make me think a full year of this is an awfully long time. It was frustrating and unnecessary. Nothing is easy in this country.

And now for some things completely different.

I marched through Freetown for World AIDS Day on December 1 and recorded the President's speech for later broadcast on Radio Maria news. The highlights? A bat pooped on me while walking under the giant cotton tree downtown -- a huge, nasty African bat, not some wimpy Congress Avenue bat. And our taxi ran out of gas in the pouring rain, so the driver left my friend Davina and I in the car, took our umbrella and went to fetch gas while we blocked traffic in a driver-less taxi. Good times.

I went to a birthday party at the British High Commission in Freetown. A strange scene, as it was full of expatriates hanging by the pool and dancing around big white Roman columns. Not more than five black faces in the crowd. An interesting experience to say the least.

Sierra Leone's 'winter' has begun. I actually have to cover up at night! Very exciting. The Harmattan winds are coming in from the Sahara. All the locals whine that it's so cold and they wear winter hats and huge coats. I'm sure it hasn't reached below 70 degrees yet. And you thought Texans were bad about cold weather.

Thank you and goodnight.

Week of Events

2007-11-25T18:59:00.000Z

Travel is always an adventure. This is me squished up against the window of a poda-poda (minibus) on the way from Makeni to Freetown. That's Linda and Diya (British volunteers) enjoying the ride as the woman in back looks baffled by the crazy white people. They cram as many bodies as possible into these things -- comfort is not a priority. One guy in front of me was hanging out the window most of the way there. When I went to inauguration, my taxi took somebody along in his closed trunk. You learn to accept such things as normal when you live here.

I went to a traditional wedding yesterday. My office-mate's sister got married. There were tons of people wearing nice African dresses and we had some food and listened to some live drumming. The odd part was that we didn't get to see any of the actual ceremony. It was held inside the house with a few family members, and everyone else was sitting outside listening to the MC relay the wedding play-by-play from a microphone. It was a good experience nonetheless.

The nuns from the Catholic Mission invited me to mass at a nearby village today called Binkolo. It was a special celebration for baptisms and confirmation, so the place was packed. They met under a huge hut made of tree branches. Most of it was translated from English to Limba, the tribal language of that area. The Bishop of the Makeni Diocese was there, and people brought him gifts down the aisle, including rice, potatoes, and two live chickens. They set the chickens down at the front and one of them immediately stood up and pooped right on the fancy church rug. Nice. And during the confirmation of about 40 people, the bishop asked questions about their faith and they would respond in a confusing way. 'Do you believe that Jesus is the son of God?' 'NO!' 'Do you believe in the Catholic Church?' 'NO!' and so on. All the nuns sitting next to me were in shock. Later we discovered they were actually saying 'Ndo,' which means 'Yes' in the Limba language. Whew.

One more thing...Thanksgiving. In the absence of turkey, Diya and I went to the market to pick out a live chicken. I pointed out the plumpest-looking one in the cage and watched the man slaughter it right there on the street. He dumped it in a plastic bag and handed it to me while it was still clinging to life. I told myself it was just a sack of potatoes and tried to ignore its movements. Luckily others took care of the plucking and cleaning. All I had to do was provide the oven. So we had some friends over and enjoyed an amazing meal of chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes, corn and green beans. As the only American there, it was good enough for me. I hope you all had a happy Turkey Day as well.

I've lost a good chunk of weight since I arrived. I started running some mornings with our laundry boy Jerry, but stopped because I got a cold last week. I guess my body still thinks I'm in the States and should have a cold. Otherwise life is good. 'Til next time.

The House

2007-11-20T20:06:00.001Z

This is my house. Thought you might like to see it.

Also, if you feel the need to send me anything, well -- I wish you luck. The postal service is terrible. But your best bet is to send it to me here:

VSO Sierra Leone
3A Millicent Drive
Off Wilkinson Road
Freetown, Sierra Leone
P.O. Box 19

Phone: (232) 076-200-399

Inaugural Insanity

2007-11-19T19:57:00.000Z

Last week I went to Freetown with Radio Maria for the presidential inauguration. Ernest Bai Koroma was elected in September, bringing the All People's Congress back to power after 10 years as the opposition party.

It was crazy. I had no real reason to be there, but I just strolled right onto the field at the National Stadium and acted like I knew what I was doing. Sometimes it helps to be white. Radio Maria had a broadcasting unit in a car parked on the field near the stands, so I was close to the action.

The stadium holds 30,000 people -- but there must have been at least 50,000 there. I mean people were desperate to catch a glimpse of this man. They covered every inch of the place, including hundreds who climbed the four light towers to get a better view. People shoved their way in at every entrance, which caused huge fights all over the place. It was a bit chaotic. Sadly, the police stood on the field near us, just watching and laughing as people pounded each other and some were even tossed over the railing to the ground 15 feet below. I guess 11 years of civil war tends to give people violent tendencies...

It was the hottest day of my life -- six hours in the sun, mostly waiting for foreign heads of state to arrive from the airport. I heard that about 30 people died, presumably from heat exhaustion and dehydration. When the presidential motorcade finally rolled in, it was worth the wait. Check it out:

It was a very historic day for Sierra Leone, and I was happy to witness it. Everyone has a lot of hope for President Koroma (who is from Makeni). He vowed in his speech to tackle the huge problem of corruption in this country. They say it's so bad that the most corrupt agency in the nation is the Anti-Corruption Commission itself. Ah, perfect irony.

You can read more about the inauguration here.

Shameless Plug

2007-11-09T16:16:00.001Z

The StoryCorps book was released yesterday at Starbucks!

Go to your local Starbucks and pick up a copy (or two) of Listening is an Act of Love. You can also order it from storycorps.net, and it will be available in stores next week I believe.

This book is what I worked on almost exclusively for the last four months of my job at StoryCorps. It's being sold by Starbucks as their featured holiday gift with a bonus CD. Anyway, just wanted to let you know it's finally here. Tell your friends and enjoy reading!

Surprise Holiday

2007-11-01T18:10:00.000Z

Today was interesting. I expected to be teaching basic interviewing skills in class this morning, but I arrived to discover that it was a holiday (All Saints' Day) and no one bothered to tell the faculty. So I joined a big march (about 500 people) organized by Amnesty International in support of reparations for survivors of sexual violence. As a result, I got my first West African sunburn and now I'm exhausted. We walked a few miles to the soccer 'stadium,' with little schoolkids cheering us on all the way (they love to wave at us and yell "aportu!" which means white person).

There was an incredibly long series of speeches at the stadium which involved way too much yelling into the microphone. Then a rapper named Yok7 performed a couple songs for the kids. It was without a doubt the laziest lip synching effort in history. But the best part was his backup dancers -- three of them, all wearing identical Yao Ming jerseys. Awesome. It was like watching New York City street performers who forgot how to dance.

People wear lots of second-hand clothing from abroad. In Freetown, I saw a man wearing the exact same San Antonio Spurs t-shirt I have at home. I told him so -- he looked confused. I've seen a Don't Mess With Texas shirt and a Cowboys jacket, which made me happy. Today I saw a green basketball jersey that said 'Cougars' -- I could've sworn it belonged to one of my high school teammates. I also saw a New York Mets t-shirt that was mis-printed and said 'Mest.'

OK just wanted to share my unexpectedly strange day. Goodbye.

Home Sweet Home

2007-10-28T20:00:00.000Z

I've arrived in Makeni (yes, sounds like McKinney, TX) and started work on Thursday. Here are a few blurbs on random topics:

HOUSE...I'm living in luxury compared to most people here -- even other volunteers. My house has running water (pumped from a well, but still...), a shower (very rare), a generator in case we need electricity, a huge front porch, a living room, and 5 bedrooms for 3 people. There's even a hut right outside where locals gather to drink palm wine and while away the afternoon. I haven't ventured in there yet. I live with an older Irish man named Jim and a Swiss anthropology student named Mike -- he's working on his master's thesis about the motorbike riders in Makeni (see below). Life is fine without electricity...the candlelight is kinda nice. Makes me go to bed very early. So I'm settling in slowly. We also have a Sierra Leonean boy named Jerry who comes to wash our clothes. I feel slightly guilty about this, but honestly he probably helps feed a family with the 7 bucks a month we each pay him. He's a super nice kid -- just like almost everyone here.

WORK...I work primarily at Radio Maria, the Catholic station which is a stone's throw from Fatima Institute, where I'll help with teaching Intro to Journalism, and Development Communication. Right away I had a meeting with the 4-person radio station staff, and the director kept calling me 'Grant S. Foolah' over and over again. Kept introducing me to people like that, too. Made me laugh. Anyway, the station actually has some pretty good equipment, and one interview studio with an A/C unit -- it's like a little slice of heaven in that room (see below). Another VSO volunteer, Jill from England, hosts a morning news show and she's gonna interview me on the air tomorrow -- yikes. I'm still observing things and getting a feel for what exactly my role will be. I helped Jill teach a journalism class (4 students) on Friday, which was interesting. Much more about work later...

SWEAT...It is hot and seriously humid. Like living in Houston without A/C anywhere. I am constantly dripping with sweat. This means I have to drink lots of water, which is not always easy to find. They sell little plastic packets of water at the Fatima 'canteen' and you can get bottled water along the road. But if I don't want to pay for it, I have to boil it and then filter it, which takes a long time.

MOTORBIKES...They're everywhere in Makeni. It's the primary mode of transportation. I have a sweet black helmet with flame decals. It says 'UNEED' on the front, as in 'U-need to wear me.' The main highway through town (off of which I live) is nice and smooth, but most of the other roads are in terrible condition -- dirt roads with potholes galore. So riding is sometimes an adventure. But riding in a car on the bad roads is even worse. The new government has promised to improve roads throughout the country...we'll see about that. I'm on a quest to buy a cheap bicycle somehow.

FOOD...Variety is not a strong point. Mike has shown me the few decent eating spots around town. By 'few' I mean three. They all serve rice with a sauce usually made of ground cassava leaves. And in the tiny supermarket, they have pasta, spam, tuna, crackers, baked beans and corn. In the streets you can get bananas, green oranges, sweet potatoes, bread, carrots, cabbage, green beans, tomatoes, and cucumber. Chicken is hard to find unless you're willing to kill it yourself -- I'm not. My friend Diya made mutton curry for us last night from the leg of a goat that was sacrificed as part of a baby naming ceremony (welcome to Africa). It'll take some getting used to, but it should be fine once I learn my way around and settle into a routine. At least the restaurants are cheap -- about $2 for a meal and drink. I'm not starving by any means, so don't worry.

Gotta rest up for my big on-air moment tomorrow. 'Til next time...

Freetown

2007-10-22T17:57:00.000Z

I am here. I am safe. I am healthy. I love it. You can stop worrying.

Sorry for the long delay, but I just wanted to say that I've had a nice first week in Freetown. Training wraps up on Wednesday and then I'll travel three hours 'up-country' to my new home in Makeni. I can't wait to get started. There's far too much to tell you in one post, so I'll try to spread out the info and avoid overwhelming you.

This is where I spent my first evening in Freetown. Not bad, huh? I went to another beach yesterday that must have been paradise. Ah, the volunteer life is so tough...

I'll soon be in Makeni, far from the beach and much hotter than Freetown (and it's hot here, believe me). OK, one more photo. We took a hovercraft like the one depicted below from the airport to Freetown. I liked this painting, so there you go. The writing is in the local Krio language, which I'm just beginning to learn.

Alright, look for more soon. Hope everyone's well. Chao.

Sierra Leone!? I didn't know that was a real country!

2007-10-12T13:57:00.000Z

A store cashier seriously said that to me the other day. Apparently there's a passing reference to Sierra Leone in the movie 'Shallow Hal,' which she openly admitted she had seen.

Chances are you don't know too much about this place I'll be living (don't worry - I didn't either). Here are the basics: Sierra Leone is a tiny country in West Africa. It is trying to recover from a brutal decade-long civil war which ended in 2002. It is poor. Very poor - ranked 176th of 177 countries on the UN's Human Development Index. The official language is English, but most people speak Krio. The population of my city is almost 100,000 and it is a 3-hour drive from the capital, Freetown.

If you want to know more, check it out on Wikipedia. More details to come in future posts, too.

I'm off to the airport this afternoon. I arrive in Freetown on Saturday. I'll be there for 9 days of training before I move to my new home in Makeni. Adios America...

10 Days

2007-10-02T03:50:00.000Z

So I've been in Ottawa for the past week and a half, learning all kinds of good stuff about international development work and trying to figure out exactly how I'll manage what is sure to be a challenging year ahead. I head to Sierra Leone on October 12 and I have a million-and-one things on my to-do list.
I'll try to post news and updates here whenever possible, but I'm not yet sure how reliable my Internet access will be at work. I'll do my best.

Check back soon!