I’m torn between wanting to write and write and not wanting to say much at all. All I seem to be able to string together is “I can’t believe I’m leaving tomorrow!”
When I look around I’m struck by how quickly Monrovia has come to feel like home. The rhythms of the city are familiar. Local greetings are now my own. Liberia is so different from any place I have known, yet after only seven months, I sometimes forget I have lived anywhere else.
To be fair, each day is filled with challenges and frustrations, and they tend to recur or grow because there is no way to escape the realities of living here. However, the joys and achievements and rewards experienced here mean even more, given the obstacles people have to overcome to realize these successes. It takes a strong, determined person to work hard and follow rules in a country where all systems are being rebuilt and nothing is guaranteed. Everyday citizens are rebuilding Liberia day by day, simply by carrying on.
Today has been wonderful because I have shared every meal with friends. This morning, Alfred came by early to take me to work so we sat down, ate scrambled eggs, and talked about my return home. I always enjoy our time together, and I’m grateful we had a few minutes this morning to catch up. This afternoon the department I work for at the Ministry held a lunch in my honor. There was singing and dancing, kind words of thanks, and I was given a new Liberian outfit! I am going to miss my friends and colleagues at work, particularly the time they would take to ask me how I was doing and what I was enjoying about Liberia. And tonight I went out for dinner with a few friends from the foundation. I insisted on saying, “I can’t believe I’m leaving!” every few minutes, but other than that it was a normal night out. (Side note: it rained all day and because most Liberians find the rainy season cold, our driver Joseph was wearing a parka and I LOVE NY ski hat when he drove us to dinner. I wore a tank top.)
When I walked out of the office today, I realized I may not see my Liberian colleagues again. There are lots of people I see infrequently or maybe once every few years. But in today’s world of infinite possibilities and “if you want it badly enough it will happen” mantras, it is hard to really conceive of leaving someplace you have become familiar with and people you have shared a piece of your life with knowing you may not return.
However, I think many of us have built connections here that we will work hard to sustain. It would be nearly impossible to come and work alongside Liberians and simply close the door on this experience when you leave. I am grateful for the opportunity to have lived and worked here, to have shared those aspects of life and relationships that transcend culture, to have dipped my toes into new surroundings.
Not all Liberians are of one mind regarding assistance provided by expatriates during the rebuilding phase, but I want to share a note that one of my friends received from a Liberian colleague, which really moved me:
As you return to the United States, look back, remember we remain united in the cause of humanity. I hail you for the courage to have traveled to the unknown. I can safely assume you have a different story now. Go well, for you have contributed immensely to a country and a people recovering from years of war.
He is absolutely right. I definitely have a different story now.
When I look around I’m struck by how quickly Monrovia has come to feel like home. The rhythms of the city are familiar. Local greetings are now my own. Liberia is so different from any place I have known, yet after only seven months, I sometimes forget I have lived anywhere else.
To be fair, each day is filled with challenges and frustrations, and they tend to recur or grow because there is no way to escape the realities of living here. However, the joys and achievements and rewards experienced here mean even more, given the obstacles people have to overcome to realize these successes. It takes a strong, determined person to work hard and follow rules in a country where all systems are being rebuilt and nothing is guaranteed. Everyday citizens are rebuilding Liberia day by day, simply by carrying on.
Today has been wonderful because I have shared every meal with friends. This morning, Alfred came by early to take me to work so we sat down, ate scrambled eggs, and talked about my return home. I always enjoy our time together, and I’m grateful we had a few minutes this morning to catch up. This afternoon the department I work for at the Ministry held a lunch in my honor. There was singing and dancing, kind words of thanks, and I was given a new Liberian outfit! I am going to miss my friends and colleagues at work, particularly the time they would take to ask me how I was doing and what I was enjoying about Liberia. And tonight I went out for dinner with a few friends from the foundation. I insisted on saying, “I can’t believe I’m leaving!” every few minutes, but other than that it was a normal night out. (Side note: it rained all day and because most Liberians find the rainy season cold, our driver Joseph was wearing a parka and I LOVE NY ski hat when he drove us to dinner. I wore a tank top.)
When I walked out of the office today, I realized I may not see my Liberian colleagues again. There are lots of people I see infrequently or maybe once every few years. But in today’s world of infinite possibilities and “if you want it badly enough it will happen” mantras, it is hard to really conceive of leaving someplace you have become familiar with and people you have shared a piece of your life with knowing you may not return.
However, I think many of us have built connections here that we will work hard to sustain. It would be nearly impossible to come and work alongside Liberians and simply close the door on this experience when you leave. I am grateful for the opportunity to have lived and worked here, to have shared those aspects of life and relationships that transcend culture, to have dipped my toes into new surroundings.
Not all Liberians are of one mind regarding assistance provided by expatriates during the rebuilding phase, but I want to share a note that one of my friends received from a Liberian colleague, which really moved me:
As you return to the United States, look back, remember we remain united in the cause of humanity. I hail you for the courage to have traveled to the unknown. I can safely assume you have a different story now. Go well, for you have contributed immensely to a country and a people recovering from years of war.
He is absolutely right. I definitely have a different story now.
3 comments:
Hey girlie, I've loved living this experience vicariously through your blog, but I gotta say it'll be nice to have you back safe and sound :) Travel safe...
As always, wise words, Lex. Thanks for sharing your thoughts! Safe travels home...
Alexis,
I know Happy Hyder your aunt and she sent me your blog. I have never been to Liberia but have been following the events there for years cause I have interest in Africa especially West AFrica. I lived in the Ivory Coast and Togo during the sixties/seventies.
I thought your stories were great and your perceptions of current status helpful.
Be nice if you could add a reflective piece before the end of the year on what your experience in Liberia is telling you today.
Did you see the documentary "Iron Ladies" on Liberia that was on public TV this summer.
Thank you for taking the time to share your experience and I hope returning to USA was not too too challenging.
roma guy
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