A different perspective

Today I received an email from one of my Liberian co-workers telling me that his home had been attacked by armed robbers last night. While he was not harmed, one of his relatives had been wounded, and the family was shaken up. However, he came to work, and was trying to live a normal day. I learned that another family had experienced the same thing over the course of the same evening. Apparently it is more common during the rainy season, because the rain gets so loud that people are unable to hear the perpetrators approaching. It’s also more likely to occur in those neighborhoods that are situated far off of main roads in near total darkness.

As we were discussing the events of the past evening, one of my Liberian co-workers said, in a very matter of fact way, “People survive by the grace of God in this country.” This is a phrase you hear often when Liberians talk about living through the civil war. There is no rational explanation for why some people survive and others’ lives are cut short, why your neighbor’s home is targeted and yours is not.

I suppose the taxi driver had it right with “who know tomorrow.” Liberia isn’t secure or developed or controlled enough for its citizens feel safe every hour of the day. Nothing is guaranteed – not a ride to work, not three meals a day, not a steady paycheck. And I get frustrated when a restaurant doesn’t have an item on its menu or the city is out of soymilk! Taking life day by day with the understanding that each extra “something” is a blessing may make life a bit sweeter.

Who know tomorrow

Nearly every taxi driver in Liberia customizes his car by painting a slogan on the bumper. Many are religious ("He gives me life" or "God is in control"), some are entrepreneurial ("best, safe ride") and still others are philosophical. This morning as we pulled into the Ministry, we saw one that falls in the latter category but was also uniquely Liberian: "who know tomorrow."

Liberians aren't really big on thinking about next steps or future consequences. They prefer to focus on the here and now (unless we're talking about football - American soccer- as most Liberians can tell you when the next big game is). I suppose on some level the slogan captures the Liberian experience for so many years. There were no guarantees that tomorrow would bring a better day or good news. In some ways it remains a very appropriate expression...commodities are increasingly expensive, access to quality health care is not yet assured, and the heavy rain means you may not get to where you need to go today.

Luckily many Liberians don't let the uncertainty paralyze them. People keep on moving, laughing, trying. And if they don't feel like telling you exactly how they're feeling, they let their taxi do the talking.

This isn't my picture, it's from a friend's blog, but it does the trick.

Leaving Masai Mara

The night before we left, we were treated to a performance by members of the Masai tribe, who danced, jumped and sang to a rhythmic beat they kept with their breathing pattern. Unfortunately we didn’t have the change to visit a Masai village, though members of the tribe were often present in and around our camp.

Our last game drive out to the Mara was a morning jaunt, and it was COLD! By the third day, we had seen enough zebras and ostriches that whenever someone sighted one of them, the rest of us would lift our eyes, smile, and return to our conversation or daydreams. We couldn’t seem to get enough of the elephants though, and when we saw a large group we begged Edward to keep us out a bit longer so we could get pictures of the mothers and adorable babies.

That morning’s ride found us driving a similar route as some American tourists we’d seen on other game drives. This older couple was dressed head to toe in safari gear that they’d obviously bought for this trip, cameras around their necks, poised for an action shot at any moment. When we saw the baby elephants, they would call out to the animals, imploring them to come closer and “look at the cameras.” We asked our Swiss friends if we carried ourselves like these people and received a reassuring “no, not at all.” Then they told us, “…but this is who we think of when we think of Americans.” Great.

On the drive back to the camp, we all took in the landscape for a last time, enjoying the crisp air rushing through the car and the feeling of being on an adventure that felt at once foreign and completely natural.

Elissa and I managed to catch an earlier flight back to Nairobi, this time on a 12 passenger plane. Our early return gave us more time to enjoy the capital together, and one last chance for me to stroll around a city with a coffee in hand.

Masai Mara Day Two

On day two, we had a morning and afternoon game drive scheduled, and we decided to extend the morning drive so that we’d be out for six hours rather than just three. We left camp around 6:30 a.m. and quickly came upon a pack of six elephants walking across a field, stopping every so often to munch on grass. There was a baby in the group, which reminded all of us of the “Babar” children’s book series. Previously, I hadn’t given much thought to elephants, but I have to say that they are pretty impressive animals to see. With their wrinkled, leathery skin, slow but steady movements and calm, watchful demeanor, there’s also something very comforting about elephants.

After taking leave of the elephants, we noticed another safari vehicle a distance in front of us. It had stopped, and the passengers were observing something. We quickly learned that a still vehicle, or a group of parked vehicles, meant that an animal worth photographing was around. What we found that morning was pretty cool: a male lion out alone, looking for food. We parked a distance away from him, but he ultimately crossed the field and came close to our vehicle. Edward told us that we could take pictures, but when it got particularly close, we should remain very still. I don’t think I anticipated what it would feel like to have a lion walk inches from me, with only a windowless vehicle separating us. I may have skipped a few breaths as it walked past, although I doubt the lion batted an eye.

After our lion encounter, we spent some time driving deeper into the Mara, and I napped on and off for a little bit (we woke up early!). We saw groups of gazelles and some Guinea fowl, birds with wide, spotted bodies and bright blue heads. We stopped in the middle of the plain for breakfast, munching on eggs and fruit that the hotel had packed up for us. After breakfast we continued on, driving to the Kenya – Tanzania border! The wildlife reserve we were traveling through crosses national lines and when you are in Tanzania it is called the Serengeti, though it’s the same stretch of land as Masai Mara.

After stopping at the border we drove to the Mara River and watched a group of hippos climb in and out of the water as they huffed and puffed and made strange grunting noises. We then drove back across the plains. The grass was pretty high, though after the animal migration that will begin next month (and signal the start of safari season), the grass will be stomped and chomped.

We decided to bring a bottle of wine on our afternoon drive, which we opened when we found a family of lions that was napping in a field. Lions apparently are only active for about four hours a day (lazy!). We stayed to watch them for nearly an hour, enjoying our wine and the sunset.

Arriving in Masai Mara

Elissa and I spent last Thursday night packing for our three days in Masai Mara. I borrowed enough long-sleeved shirts and jackets to layer up for the cool mornings and evenings, we brought boggle and scrabble and made sure our cameras were fully charged. We were ready.

We took a short flight on a 20-seat plane and landed at Keekorok Airport in Masai Mara, essentially a “natural” runway in the middle of a gorgeous landscape. We were picked up by Edward, our guide, and met a lovely Swiss couple who would be our safari companions for the weekend. Our vehicle was a land cruiser with open windows and sunroof, meaning that there was no glass at all. We could stand on the seats and pop our heads out of the sunroof to get an unobstructed view of the plains and watch for animals (confession: I was horrible at spotting animals…I had some luck with giraffes, which are so tall and awkward they are practically begging to be spotted).

After arriving at the camp, where Elissa and I bunked in a tent next to a lake, we had lunch, looked around, and geared up for our first game drive. Edward took us out around 4 p.m. and about 20 minutes into our drive we came across an elephant that walked right in front of our jeep! As I was trying to take pictures I got a message on my camera saying my memory card was full. Oops! I frantically deleted pictures (all of them were already on my computer) and was free to take pictures of every animal that crossed our path after that. We saw lots of zebras, and while we all know they are black and white striped, the strangeness of their markings doesn’t seem apparent until you see them in their natural surroundings. Their stripes look almost painted on! How do these animals survive in the wild – don’t they stand out? I learned that they move in packs and because their stripes tend to blend together, it is hard for predators to tell one from another and go after one particular zebra. I quickly learned how to spot a Topi gazelle (look for the dark blue markings on its reddish-brown body) and the smaller, leaner Thompson gazelle (a black striped marking across its lower side or flank). The sunset was gorgeous and I ended our drive wondering why I hadn’t come sooner…

Nairobi

I didn’t realize how much I needed both a vacation and a break from Monrovia until I stepped off the plane in Nairobi. When I felt the cool air and it hit me that I was about to spend a week with one of my oldest friends, I got very, very excited. My excitement was tempered by a brief moment of panic, as I wondered what the chances were that my suitcase had been broken into (about 10 minutes into my drive to the airport in Liberia I realized I had forgotten my suitcase lock and for peace of mind had bought a tiny lock for $1 that a boy was selling outside the airport. I probably could have bitten the lock off my suitcase in a pinch, that’s how solid it was.) Luckily, my suitcase emerged undisturbed and I was on my way.

I hopped into a waiting cab and we drove through Nairobi’s still dark but already traffic-clogged streets. Kenyans, having been colonized by the British, drive on the “other” side of the road. We made our way through the city center, with many high rise buildings, and continued on to Elissa’s apartment complex in a more residential neighborhood.

When I walked into her apartment, I couldn’t get over how nice both the space and its surroundings were. The living room in particular had an entire wall of windows and great natural light. Right outside was a balcony with comfy furniture on it, where you could read, hang out, or have dinner outside. The balcony faces a leafy green courtyard dotted with flowering trees. The setting was just so lovely and real departure from Monrovia.

It’s hard to convey how exciting it was to be in a city like Nairobi and have what seemed like an endless number of restaurants, bars and shopping centers to choose from…but I was in my element. I bought a coffee with soy milk every day. I went shopping every day (thank goodness we left Nairobi for the weekend). I had an appointment for some kind of spa or salon treatment every day. We had Ethiopian food! Thai food! Fresh fruit! York peppermint patties!!

Aside from enjoying the perks of a city, it was just wonderful to spend so much time with Elissa and see a slice of her life in Nairobi. We went to a yoga class together and I marveled at the fact that I was trying to balance my upper body on my elbows and elevate my legs in the air IN NAIROBI. We danced around to songs we used to love in her apartment. She drove me around town (on the “wrong” side of the road) and took me to the best places to find the goodies I was looking for.

What I saw of East Africa seemed quite different from West Africa. Nairobi is far more developed than Monrovia, there are more (and nicer) cars on the road, the climate and vegetation are different, and there seems to be less of the colorful chaos you find in Monrovia. Kenyans speak differently than Liberians; more slowly and with a distinct pronunciation. The cab drivers I had were all quite interested in talking with me about Barack Obama and were curious to hear how Liberians were managing post-conflict.

On Friday morning we woke up and boarded a small plane for the Sarova Mara Camp in the Masai Mara park and wildlife reserve. It was time to spend a few days on safari…

Paradise...not quite

I know things have been quiet on the Liberian Living front lately, but a poorly done article from the Washington Post has roused me from my blogging slumber! It is titled "In Postwar Liberia, Paradise Amid the Poverty" and you can read it here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/05/29/AR2008052903983.html

My colleagues and I can't get it off of our minds, for a lot of reasons.

First, there are far more important stories to be writing about Liberia. The topics are endless…from visible infrastructure improvements made since January…to the country trying to be a model in post-conflict health services delivery…to the food crisis and rice shortage facing this country.

Second, I have no idea how two sushi restaurants and a supermarket that stocks pop tarts have come to represent paradise (and I ask you, what good are 16 types of pop tarts when wheat bread, canned tomatoes, and black beans are never guaranteed?). The few amenities that are here can be found in any suburb in America. Should ex-pats feel badly because they want to enjoy a Friday night meal at a restaurant, after spending the week in an office with irregular electricity and no running water?

Third, you have to acknowledge the reality that during 14 years of civil war, most educated and/or elite Liberians left the country and have not returned. It is challenging to find Liberians in the diaspora who are willing to come back and fill posts here. There are some programs that are trying to make it happen (The Scott Family Fellows Program, run by the Center for Global Development) but it is slow going. Salaries, benefits and amenities here are nothing like what these Liberians have been enjoying in their new environments.

I will not pretend to be an expert in economics, but in a country where the majority of people earn less than $1 a day, businesses and NGOs that are employing Liberians are providing a fair, consistent wage that goes directly into building the local economy. While ex-pats may frequently support non-Liberian owned businesses, the money they spend does trickle down to the population. It seems naïve to think that a country emerging from prolonged civil war that is missing entire segments of its population could instantly rebuild its own economy.

I realize I might sound defensive, but it's laughable to describe the ex-pat lifestyle here as "paradise." It's true that there is a disconnect between the ex-pat and Liberian populations, one that continues to give many of us pause in our daily lives, though it is perhaps no different than the gaps that exist between aid workers and local populations in any developing country.

I do anticipate being in paradise early next week, when I travel to Nairobi, which sounds like a vibrant city! I am visiting my friend Elissa for one week and I cannot wait! The plan is to spend time exploring the city (or showing me around) and taking a 3-day safari. I hope to enjoy an iced coffee with soy milk as well.