Bus Bus Baby

I'm at my town's junction waiting for a vehicle to take me to Bo, where I can get vehicles to take me further down the way. Today is my lucky day. A government bus pulls up as I am waiting for my car to fill up. Not only is it cheaper and safer, they can take me as far as Freetown so I wont have to transfer cars in Bo. I hop on and take one of the few remaining seats next to a woman and her two small children. The seats on the bus are arranged for maximum capacity so all the rows are extremely close together. Even sitting completely straight, my knees crush into the seat in front of me. For now I can sit with my legs open, until another person takes the seat between us. What initially looked like a blessing, slowly turned into a curse. Usually these buses fill up with passengers all going to Freetown so there isn't much stopping, but for some reason this bus is stopping at almost every town, letting people off and trying to get more passengers. This is going to be a long ride. Oh well I think. I could be alot worse. I move my legs to get comfortable and pray at every stop that no one comes to claim the seat next to me. I politely smile as the toddler next to me, covered in big mole/wart like bumps, drools on my pants and occasionally touches me. I watch as the two of them devour plantain chips and crackers, leaving a powder wasteland of crumbs over everything like a sandstorm in the desert. The mother occasionally whips boob out for the young one and doesn't pay any attention to me. I try not to look startled or get caught observing, as my own culture is not quite so open about nudity.


An hour passes. I arrive in Bo. To my disappointment, a third of the bus gets off, leaving us at the station to wait for it to fill back up. I decide that Ive already paid and that another taxi might take just as long to fill up, so i wait and watch, sweating on the poorly ventilated bus. After a little while there is a commotion outside and most of the remaining people on the bus start to watch. I cant tell whats going on but it appears to be some kind of argument. Its hard for me to tell sometimes thought because even normal conversations here are usually done at yelling volume. Outsiders coming here to visit might get the impression that everyone is fighting and arguing but in reality the culture here just really likes to talk loudly. Yelling you might even say. So the commotion outside starts to look more happy so I'm confused. I watch as women hold up a lappa at the entrance of a small "bar", not allowing people to go inside. I think to myself, maybe there is a club meeting, or maybe they are dispersing food, or maybe holding a thief, or maybe someone fainted. My minds spins. I lean across the walkway and ask a young man that seems to speak good English. I ask. He tells.


A woman on the bus was pregnant traveling to Freetown. She is giving birth! It seems that there is a blessing inside this curse disguised as a blessing. I now can put together what I am seeing as all the women crowded around look happy, hopeful, and excited. Birth here is highly regarded. As a woman its one of the greatest achievements you can hope for her. All the young girls already have the number of children they want to have and can probably successfully raise a child as soon as they are able to reproduce. Finally the bus is full again. It takes a few minutes for people to all find seats and then it seems we are waiting for the woman and her newborn. She can possibly get back on the bus I think to myself. I watch as one of the ladies that helped deliver, supposedly a nurse, brings a tiny bundle on board and holds it up. Smiles and cheers. I feel like baby Simba is being displayed over the valley. Eventually the mother slowly gets back on the bus and is given the front seat, where upon she is handed her new baby. Off we go. I cant believe this woman was traveling in labor, hopped off and pushed out a baby, only to get back on the bus and continue her 4+ hours on to Freetown. No pain meds, no doctors. Only cold concrete floor and a bunch of women immersed in a world of giving birth. I sit back, tilt my body to the aisle at a weird angle to allow my legs space, and ponder on the wonders of the world.

A walk in the bush....

The other day, I ran into a man in the bush. He told me about the giant concrete tub he was standing next to and how they use it to process palm oil. He told me to come back tomorrow around 2pm. Perfect! Right at the end of school. I left school the next day and hiked behind my house again into the bush. The man was nowhere to be found, but instead I found four women and around twelve children obviously hanging out and making palm oil. The big concrete tub, that looks more like an ancient stone ruin, is filled to the top with a frothy reddish green liquid. Next to it are two big oil drums filled with more red liquid bubbling and oozing from the fires beneath them. Most of the women and children only speak Mende, and after we get through the greetings, dont talk much. A few of them speak enough Krio to explain that I just missed most of the process, including the men mashing the palm fruit with their feet much like people used to do to make wine from grapes. They explain that they are now boiling the oil that they have collected from the palm fruit to get the last little bit of water out and then pouring it into big gallon containers to sell it at the market. It goes for about 1,500 Leones a pint or about 35 cents. I sat around for a little over an hour watching these women who barely make ends meet, process palm fruit into oil to cook with, getting pestered and climbed on by their half dressed children with big bulging belly buttons and dirty feet and hands. They find me fascinating, and I of course enjoy making faces at them, poking them, and allowing them to drop flying insects on my arm as they burst into laughter. My arm hair intrigues them. My head hair is a soft savannah that they cant stop rubbing. I am easy going. I take it with a smile. After I see enough I decide to head home and say my best Mende goodbye. Halfway home, the children catch up to me with a cocoa pod, which looks like a green and yellow bumpy eggplant. I accept with a smile, thank them, and continue on, wondering what i'm going to do with it. Little do I know that my neighbor children know how to open it and that the inside is filled with gooey delicious seeds. I had previously only seen the dried cacao so I never imagined this white translucent fruity goodness surrounding each bean, almost like a pomegranate. Life here, like fruit, is delicious.

Monkey Monkey, Come Down!

Im writing to you as a failure. The monkey song did not bring the monkeys out of the trees. We were told it was going to work. We even did the dance! Oh well. At least we got to peep some. I am freshly returned from Tiwai Island. It was amazing. I highly recommend it to allveryone. But let me start at the beginning….

December 13^th marked the day I traveled to Bo. From then till the 22^nd we were having IST ( In Service Training), which included sessions on writing grants and setting up libraries, debriefing about our sites, a little history here, and a little language there. Our whole group, which is now down to 45, was all there and it was nice to see everyone again after a long first term of school at our sites. Bo is second largest city in Salone and quite possibly my favorite. It was nice to spend some time there getting to know it. One night we got to enjoy a live reggae band!!! My first music experience here with actual instruments, so I was pretty excited. We stayed at the Pastoral Center in Bo which was a pretty run down, hostel-like experience…..but we had electricity at night and ceiling fans!!! Overall not bad. No problem.

From there I traveled to Tiwai Island. After a 3 hour cramped car ride we arrived at the Moa river. The river splits at a fork and joins a few other small tributaries to create a little 6 by 12 kilometer island known at Tiwai. Im not sure if it’s a national park or protected land, but it is supposedly one of the top ten biodiversity hotspots in the world.One of the last remaining places for Pygmy Hippos, among other animals. We saw barrels of monkeys including the Diana monkey, the Lesser Spot-nosed monkey, the black and white Colobus monkey, the Red Colobus monkey, and some amazing birds including the Great Blue Turaco, the Yellow and Black Casqued Hornbill, Drogons, and two other types of hornbills. It was incredible and I had a hard time leaving. The island has a really nice campsite for tourists, which includes a bunch of concrete floored gazebos with tents set up with mattresses inside. There was a cook there that pretty much handled all of the business, and yes he also handled the food. The first few meals we let him cook us African food, but for the last few meals we gave him what cans of beans we had brought and had some interesting concoctions for Christmas Eve dinner. We had an early morning arranged hike with tour-guide, a 3 hour boat tour, and many guideless wanderings in the bush. It was awesome. Giant trees, huge vines, beautiful rivers, sandy beaches, huge bamboo groves, and footpaths criss-crossing all over the island.Anyone that comes to visit WILL be taken there.

“Monkey monkey come down. Monkey monkey come down. You see me fine wes (butt), you see me fine bo bee (breasts) O!”

Payback

Some want to know about teaching. So here we go!

Ummm. I like it. It is the last thing I ever would have imagined myself doing in life, let alone actually liking it. I enjoy teaching them. I do. I dont enjoy trying to quiet 80+ students long enough to read anything but its part of the job. I love the moments when they are all quiet and taking notes and then I do something quirky like drag my chalk around the board and make noises. This usually warrants 80+ EHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhssssss. They like when I doodle hippos on the board. They like when I say something in the local language. I hope they like me. But being liked is not my job. Ive just started noticing that I dont think they understand my speaking/english as well as i'd thought. Will take time I guess. There are alot that just seem to come to make friends and lovers, and those that seemed forced to come. However I do have a few that seem to really enjoy learning. I had one of my most troublesome and hyper boys surprise me the other day by getting 100% my test. I gave him a pencil and a ruler and a beloved Audubon magazine. I definitely feel like all the torture I gave my teachers as a young ADD child coming full circle. There are a few that I look at, being hyper and loud and disruptive, and I just see myself and smile. They are not bad, they just cannot control themselves. Blurting out randomly. If any of my teachers read this....Thank you. Im sorry. I understand. Haha.

Recipe for Authentic African Fun Stew

Ingredients:

1 rusty mid-sized car or old van
1 cassette either Shady Baby/Bu Berry/Nigerian Music
7-8 passengers for the car, 12+ for the van ( at least a few males in case push start is needed)
1-3 Chickens in a rice bag ( one goat will do)
Plenty of luggage/bags for everyone's laps
1 driver that insists on turning off the engine every downhill
1 working horn to use repeatedly (the crazier the better!!)
A few stickers (Favorite soccer team, Obama, Madonna, or Cobra Commander)
5000 Leones at least ( for snacks)
1-2 weird smells (sweat, cacao beans, oil, petrol, animals, ect.)
Random ringing phones
Broken windows and doors (peeling tint is optional)
Bad tires/suspension/balance really add additional flavor


Directions:

Take one vehicle and gut the inside. Add benches and seats to the whole vehicle. The more uncomfortable the better. Remove seat belts. Take all the passengers and mix. Throw them into the vehichle and make sure they are all touching. Crammed is best. Add a few smells here and there and a chicken under foot. Make sure to have plenty of luggage on the roof/trunk and all over everyones laps. Insert cassette and play at least three times over and over. Make sure to have a few thousand leones for snacks along the way. Stop every few miles and yell at someone. Pick up and drop up passengers all along the way. A person sharing the seat with the driver really adds some heat! Practice negotiating price. Its fun!!!

Some say I'm a dreamer...

My whole life I have been having dreams that I figured were just dreams; random events and people. Typical dreams that dont make sense and are just surreal thoughts and ideas. Since Ive been in Sierra Leone I have been having the strangest sense of what I guess you can call Deja Vu. Im not sure its the same thing though. I without a doubt have dreamt alot of what has happened here, years and years before. I keep having experiences that I get the crazy Deja Vu feeling with and remember a strange dream that I didnt think anything of when I had it. Just made up places and faces, but alas, it was a look into my future. So not to sound crazy but I have had prolific dreams I guess then...Is this the same thing as Deja Vu? Does anyone else have this? Anywho, I have never felt so in line with my "destiny" and constantly keep having my dreams played out, which I can only take it as a sign that I am on the right path.

School is now in full swing here and I'm getting my teach on. Going well. Teaching only Electronics now for the time being, but I love it. Trying to get basic science (atoms, matter) across first, so we will see how it goes. Its gonna be interesting teaching electronics with no electronics to show. Improvise! Gonna start doing after school tutoring in math for the kids about to take the BECE. It is one of the most failed parts of the test, so if I can maybe help at least one kid get through I will feel good.

Small Small

Everyday I usually wake up to the sounds of the water pump outside my house. It starts at about 6am and continues to keep me just enough awake to be annoyed, as the surrounding families get their water. Sometime around 7:30 I get up and mix milk powder with water for either my instant coffee or my cereal(rare). Other times I light up the kerosene stove and fry up an egg. If I am up for it I take a bucket bath. I arrive at school sometime around 8am or shortly after, as my students are slowly showing up. At 8:30 the bell rings. As in a student takes an actual bell and rings it. I am teaching two strings of JSS1 Math and two strings of JSS2 Electronics. I might be getting JSS3 Electronics depending on the level of interest that the students show. Two strings more of less means two different classrooms. So as of now I have four classrooms, full of 50+ students that I have to teach four times a week. BTW I am teaching at a muslim school which runs from Sunday-Thursday. JSS is the equivalent of middle school here though the age range is not as small as it is in the states. So far Ive noticed kids ranging from 10 years old to 19 years old. I guess the important part is that they allow them to come no matter the age and that they find it important enough to come. I have alot to learn about the education system here. They respond well enough to me so far though its hard to tell how much they can actually understand me or the things I teach. I somehow need to get across the importance of math to them....but even in America most students dislike it. I think the hardest part for me is definitely going to be the disciplining. I am a softy and cannot even yell at them without smiling. We will see how it goes. School gets out around 2:30pm and I so far have been spending my free time shirtless and overheated in my bed trying to read, or hanging out next door. I have also started really enjoying Football. As in soccer. It is the only thing I can watch here on a regular basis so I suppose its nice that I enjoy it. I always watched the World Cup before coming here and didn't realize all of the league and club games are just as fun to watch...if not more. I usually hit the sack around 9 or 10 depending on the level of interest in my current book or the degree of service that Airtel is able to provide, which enables me lots of chat time with the lady love. I am starting to enjoy alot of the food here, alot of which I think has to do with the good cooks next door. Either that or the high levels of salt and msg are getting me addicted. I hopefully will begin working on a world map project on one of the walls of my school soon, depending on the level of interest and commitment I receive from others. I am looking into gardening, pickling, solar ovens, mapping my town and the methods involved, among other small things.
So far one of the harder things for me is keeping up with one of the Peace Corps goals which is to share and give a better understanding of America and Americans. Almost 100% of the people ive talked to so far all want to go to America and love it. It is hard for them to understand that there is nothing I can do to help them get there. Its all above me at a government level. They have these skewed ideas about life in America and the opportunities available to them. So normally where I should be saying positive things about the US, I am instead doing the opposite to let them know that its not all kittens and rainbows. Everywhere has problems. Though it is hard not to think of how we must look in our movies and music videos to them. And granted life in America is good. We are the most fortunate and spoiled country with almost endless opportunities. And even though joblessness is high now and living expenses are higher, its hard to complain when our houses our nice, we have electricity and running water, most of us have cars, fast internet, fancy phones, endless food options, paved roads, et cetera. So its interesting to say the least.