"This too is Liberia"

Oh boy. I am going to try to cover all that has occurred in the past couple of days- jeez I should get paid for this stuff. I figured I would start with the quote above, "this too is Liberia". My friend Hashme, from Don Bosco, told us that Liberians say it because all over the place the government is promoting the idea that Liberia is back on its feet and doing well. Though this may be true in some areas, he says they forget sometimes the poorer parts of the country and so it is said in jest and as a reminder.

For me I was basically shouting this we were driving along the poorly paved roads and approaching the 'bush' village, bouncing around. On Tuesday we left at 6 AM and what was supposed to be a 4 hour drive turned into 7. And it was not an ordinary drive, or traffic induced. The road was clear for the most part and we were going 70, but the road was just a mess after we left the city. We were a three car convoy and I was riding in the hum-v, a.k.a bigger rough car which does not mean comfortable. We piled in and hit the road each car practically racing each other. It was very reminiscent of mario kart- a game played the night before I left, though unlike my performance as there, our car this time was winning. It was a who can get there the fastest without hitting people on the side of the road, dodging potholes and not stopping. We finally reached Ganta and got to our hotel, which my roommate Ijauma (She is an American-Nigerian) and I shared a bed. She is such a character there are not even enough words to describe her, but we get along very well.

Then the next morning we left for Glaalay- see before I wasn't even close. This if you recall was supposed to be 3 hours and turned into 5hr. Why you ask? Hmm let me think- oh right- it must have been the 70 mph we were going on the pot hole filled roads which caused us to change our tire. And let me tell you one of my greatest fears in the U.S. is being stuck in the middle of nowhere by myself and having to change my tire. Thankfully this time Jones- our drive and my main squeeze- is a mechanic and did it one two three. But part of the problem was that origniallyt we picked the wrong tire to change. So we changed it back and continued onward into through some villages that had refugees and Liberians together and then into the jungle and mud to get to the village of our final destination, closet to the border- but not before we had another tire change. Yes, three tire changes in 5 hours- just my car; Jones sure knows how to make his girl feel special. But oddly enough I wasn't even concerned because I knew that they would figure out a way to get us there. And sure enough we arrived- late- but to singing children, literally. Then we headed up to the com,unity area and meet the leaders and basically the elders and who ever wanted to come. I meet another friend there, the chief elder named Gbeadeh Burnie, who gave me my Gio African name (we'll second- I didn't want to make him feel less important) Nenser, which means to bear a child with pride, very fitting considering some call me Mamastelli. And so now I have this name and then my Kikuyu name Njere.

From here our groups split up and did our assignments. There were three responsibilities divided among teams: assess the refugee community, assess the host community and train the staff of center for Peace and Justice Studies living in the community on assessment, mediation and dialogue. My group was responsible for the training which we had to design and run, at first I was upset with not interacting for 3 hours with the community directly, but things went differently than expected. It was interesting trying to break down the concepts during the training into ideas they would understand, language was also a barrier for some french speaking people- but Cecily stepped up her translating game. Overall, I was very pleased with the way it went, Andrea- who is a professor at Georgetown and an external evaluator of the program- said our group had the most successful session, so naturally my competitive side was pleased. but most of all I was just glad that the participants ( about 20 of them) were happy with what was taught and learned something by the end. Also, we did get to interact with the community outside of that and I learned about the issues from the staff as well, which I cross referenced with the other groups.

The main points of contention are land. Their are 3,000 people in the community, on top of 8,634 refugees in this village alone. The refugees come over the border, go to a transit center for two weeks and are relocated to homes or structure built for them by UNHCR or groups like Don Bosco. The structures are usually one room homes, but look pretty sturdy. The issue then is not only overcrowding, but a strain on resources. The village is so far out it was the last to received rice from teh WFP (World Food Programme) and even so they all share it the hosts and refugees. There was also different points raised over Ivorian women marrying Liberian men considering women and children were the first to come over- so that creates tension between the Liberian women as well as the husbands from Cote D'Ivoire when they joined their family. The refugees understand they have overstayed their welcome and are grateful for the hospitality, but don't want to return empty handed to Cote D"Ivoire for fear of humiliation of those who stayed. They also at teh same time, feel humiliated having to work for their host families at times, because the refugees have skills but just not anywhere to start utilizing them. The Liberians on the other hand also feel a strain, but would never ask the refugees to leave, because during their civil war they fled as well and recognize the difficult situation. The discourse is filled with mixed feelings of those advocating for an assisted return, while others are trying to improve the situation as is. And when it comes down to it the major issue underlying all others was food security- because they feel if they are well-feed they can work, or go out and find work, etc.

After leaving Glaaday we drove back to Ganta, to spend one more day meeting with a local school, the mayor of the town, the center for concerned women and many youth groups. The youth groups consisted of FLY (Federation of Liberian Youth), Intervisinary Arts (responsible for dramas) and the Motorcyclists Union. We just talked with these groups about the issues Ganta faces and how the youth addresses it. The mayor seemed to be the only person in government trying to fix the land contentions and said he spends 70% of his time on those, leaving gaps in other areas. Then we watched a drama that one group made representing war time about a cousin who flees due to the war and leaves her boyfriend behind to only have him become involved with her cousin who said she was dead. Long story short shit went down and basically the guy got off easy- go figure. Definitely lead to some further conversations about gender roles here though in the car, nothing of which I have not heard before; men having girlfriends or many wives being a tradition for some tribes, blah blah double standard because women don't have boyfriends on the side. We also discussed the election of Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and many agreed it was good for her to be elected, but now she is lying if she runs again because she said she would say one term until peace was restored- which really has two clauses. One term and peace restored, and so the man I was discussing this with Seukeu Tuah ( like suckitoya) siad peace was restored so now it was time to leave. And Jones said he would like a woman president again because they are more honest- so again just a variety of viewpoints within a society, so the saying depends who you speak to really holds true here.


Along the drives I also befriend Martha who works for Don Bosco and Jones further, as well as Collins the other driver. Martha is in her 30s and is still trying to do work she enjoys, which I admire. I feel as if the society differs from the U.S. in this manner now because women have families first then think of aspirations later, whereas in the U.S. career and education generally comes first. Jones I foudn out has seven children all in Monrovia still and Collins has nine, three in Ghana the rest in Liberia and the way they talk about their family just makes me admire them because they are able to still talk about their families in a loving manner, rather than a burden which I feel that many children could have the tendency to be. We took some liberties as driving and stopped at the Guinea border a few minutes from our hotel in Ganta and actually walked across the border- no passport necessary or immigration form. It was white privilege at its finest. So technically I have now been to 5 African countries- wahoo only 49 more to go!

Also along the drives, besides conversations the images we saw were impressive. The land is so green it is beautiful, but then it can be green green green, full full full, BAM empty and black because of all the rubber trees they plant and harvest. And one image that will stick in my mind is this one of a woman in one of these empty spaces with trees cut down around her, ash still present sitting under her tent of palm leaves cooking as her five children ran around in this place, to me it seemed destroyed, but to them it was their own personal playground.

This too is Liberia.