So first off I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to all those that I have made suffer to read my blog whilst I was committing the egregious sin of now double spacing between paragraphs. It has come to my attention that certain of the would be readers are morally offended and utterly intimidated by the dearth there of. I did not mean to in any way upset your delicate grammar sensibilities, I can only blame it on the fact that I went to public schools as a child and that I am new to the blog thing... also I may or may not have eaten paint chips as a child, they are still trying to figure that one out. So I will make sure in the future to aid you in your attempts to read my random blathering to always put two lines in between paragraphs... Again I am sincerely sorry and may God have mercy on my soul... or something like that.
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So I have been helping plan a workshop that we had the last week where we brought in a bunch of community level advocates from the surrounding county to teach them about their basic human rights as guaranteed to them by the Universal Declaration Human Rights (which many of you know I carry a copy on me almost anywhere I go as essentially another book of scripture) and then I also read through the Liberian Constitution and came out with all of the Fundamental Rights guaranteed to them through their country. So the problem we ran into was that we basically had two separate groups at this week long workshop. We had about 2/3 of the people that were humble people from small little villages and towns that did not have much education if any (several were illiterate) and they had real issues that they wanted to know how to address. Like wealthy people coming in and tricking them into selling them half their land ( when you are illiterate you really don't recognize and extra zero when you are signing papers you can not read), and general rich taking advantage of the poor types of things. And then we had the kids from Bong County Student Union who were in my opinion for the most part a bunch of punks. I say this knowing full well that I basically saw a lot of my same attributes in them and fully admitting that I am also a punk, but whatever. These kids hi-jacked the discussion every time. No one else could get a word in as they would go off on tangent after tangent... it was so frustrating. But we were able to get a lot done and the different community groups were able to leave with a good plan to address real problems that were facing them in their communities and we will be checking in on them in the next couple weeks to see how those plans went.
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So anyway... Quick story about today. So Sundays are normally super boring, I do my little church service here and then i sit around all day making things from coconut shells and slicing the hell out of my hand or I read all day and then go to bed at like 8 because they don't turn on the power on Sunday. But today was graduation day at the local University so there are a bunch of parties going on all over. So I made my boss, Dayugar not JoeJoe, come and pick me up and take me around... First sign that this was going to be different is when Dayugar comes to pick me up and he walks from the car to my building with a beer in his hand. We first went to his cousin's graduation party which was much more decadent than I was expecting. they had cut down every palm bow on the block that they could reach to make this palm thatch awning thing that covered the whole front yard and dayugar had borrowed a bunch of chairs from DEN-L as well as some of the sound equipment so that there were huge speakers up front where people were giving formal speeches to the graduate who was nearly absconded by a giant stack of presents that rivals that of my family at Christmas. Anyway... soon enough the speeches ended and then came the alcohol, case after case of alcohol. I met a bunch of different people and talked for a while and then dayugar taps me on the shoulder with another beer in his hand, it was apparent that he had one or two more since we got there, that we were going to a different party. I asked if he was ok to drive and he said that he wasn't driving cause he was too drunk, I was relieved. Until I got in the car and saw that the driver had two beers he was working at the same time, while driving a stick shift on Liberian roads. I would have said something but 1 I was very impressed with his skill and 2 the roads were so bad that we went maybe 15-20 mph tops the whole way there and i figured the worst we would do is run over a chicken or hit a tree and stop.
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We go to the next place where they each get another beer. I start to figure out how to walk home from there. We make it to the next two parties where the people that are throwing them are not so well off so they do not have drinks for everyone but one has a live band and so i danced with a bunch of older ladies who thought it was hilarious to dance with a white man, i like to think they were laughing with me and not at me, and I got my picture taken with a lot of random strangers.
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we went back to Dayugar's cousin's party where he started to bump and grind with her... I'm just saying it seemed a little too close of a friendly relationship for me but hey, who am I to judge. After we had been there for a bit longer and as the alcohol was fully taking its course a fight broke out outside and everyone raced to go watch. I for one know how bad the demobilization process has been in this country and how many small arms are still... well... everywhere so I decided to move away from the fighting instead. It soon ended and I was about to ask someone to take me home when the goat soup came out, and it would have been offensive to pass on goat soup. It was probably the best goat soup I have ever had to be quite honest but i think i still prefer Campbell's new England clam chowder.
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So that was my Sunday, that was my day. Very interesting if you ask me. I got to do a lot of people watching a little bit of dancing, made a lot of new friends who I will never remember their names and if I see them in two days will not remember that I knew them but I am going to mark this one down as a successful night out in Liberia.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
So this is what adulthood feels like?
So I still have a year to go before I graduate from my masters degree, however a year has never seemed so short. I am used to time seeming so fast when I look back but now I am thinking of all that I need to do before that year is up, scratch that, make that 10 ½ months and I start to get a tightness in my chest and I wonder what the hell I am going to do.
The future and responsibilities and all that jazz has always seemed far away… After high school I got to hide on a mission for two years and not worry about everything, after my mission there was college, after college there were still two more years of grad school. Now I have been on this earth for over a quarter century, I guess its about time for me to start participating.
So my check list includes the normal end of school kinds of conundrums I guess although I would like to think that my stress and pressure is somehow greater than anyone else’s. This, of course, is a fallacy. Still as I make initial probes looking at the job market, realize that my student loans that have sky rocketed with the onset of grad school with no scholarships at all (thanks a whole freaking lot AU!!! Jerks!!) and that the economy is indeed in recession, whether my incompetent president likes to admit it or not, and think about any other possibilities that come with adulthood and their fun times responsibilities (do I have to buy life insurance now, do I have to stop traveling all the time and “settle down”? what exactly is a 401-K plan and why does it sound like a breakfast cereal?) I cannot help but feel like I have one year till a giant bomb goes off right in the middle of my sheltered protected and privileged life.
Have I prepared enough? Can you prepare enough? Am I going to have to work at McDonalds because there are no other jobs and if so will they accept my previous experience pushing tacos as an acceptable predecessor to their fast past burger world? I gotta tell you sometimes disappearing in Latin America and saying good bye to everything seems rather tempting.
For all the heart seizing panic that comes with the concept of finally becoming a full fledged adult, there is also a sense of excitement. I am about to embark on a great journey, diving head first into the concrete swimming pool that is orthodontist appointments, stock portfolios and weekends spent doing house repairs (which I am more than positive would be positively correlated with phone calls to my dad just to check in and oh by the way… how the hell do I sweat pipes?) Yeah… definitely kind of exciting. I still have a long way to go though, still have many an obstacle to overcome and I am sure I will have quite a few miniature mental breakdowns while trying to figure out what to do.
Anyway, just some thoughts of what’s on my mind. As far as Liberia, well I am facilitating a human rights workshop for local community advocates. It has made me realize how much of a role my mom’s work as a parent teacher advocate when I was a kid has had on me. Now that I look back I can see a direct line from the work she did fight with Marquette Area Public Schools to make sure that my brother or any other mentally or physically handicapped student in the district got each and every right that was accorded to them by the laws and my own work to speak up for those that don’t have a voice and try to steer the world towards the higher road. So it’s all your fault mom, are you happy? Alright I am ignoring this quality movie that was bootlegged onto a vhs tape about 15 years ago when it was shown on TV and then it was burned to DVD. Now the picture looks like you are looking at it through a glass of water and listening to it through a pillow. But if I concentrate really hard I can almost tell what’s going on and I think it’s a pretty good movie.
The future and responsibilities and all that jazz has always seemed far away… After high school I got to hide on a mission for two years and not worry about everything, after my mission there was college, after college there were still two more years of grad school. Now I have been on this earth for over a quarter century, I guess its about time for me to start participating.
So my check list includes the normal end of school kinds of conundrums I guess although I would like to think that my stress and pressure is somehow greater than anyone else’s. This, of course, is a fallacy. Still as I make initial probes looking at the job market, realize that my student loans that have sky rocketed with the onset of grad school with no scholarships at all (thanks a whole freaking lot AU!!! Jerks!!) and that the economy is indeed in recession, whether my incompetent president likes to admit it or not, and think about any other possibilities that come with adulthood and their fun times responsibilities (do I have to buy life insurance now, do I have to stop traveling all the time and “settle down”? what exactly is a 401-K plan and why does it sound like a breakfast cereal?) I cannot help but feel like I have one year till a giant bomb goes off right in the middle of my sheltered protected and privileged life.
Have I prepared enough? Can you prepare enough? Am I going to have to work at McDonalds because there are no other jobs and if so will they accept my previous experience pushing tacos as an acceptable predecessor to their fast past burger world? I gotta tell you sometimes disappearing in Latin America and saying good bye to everything seems rather tempting.
For all the heart seizing panic that comes with the concept of finally becoming a full fledged adult, there is also a sense of excitement. I am about to embark on a great journey, diving head first into the concrete swimming pool that is orthodontist appointments, stock portfolios and weekends spent doing house repairs (which I am more than positive would be positively correlated with phone calls to my dad just to check in and oh by the way… how the hell do I sweat pipes?) Yeah… definitely kind of exciting. I still have a long way to go though, still have many an obstacle to overcome and I am sure I will have quite a few miniature mental breakdowns while trying to figure out what to do.
Anyway, just some thoughts of what’s on my mind. As far as Liberia, well I am facilitating a human rights workshop for local community advocates. It has made me realize how much of a role my mom’s work as a parent teacher advocate when I was a kid has had on me. Now that I look back I can see a direct line from the work she did fight with Marquette Area Public Schools to make sure that my brother or any other mentally or physically handicapped student in the district got each and every right that was accorded to them by the laws and my own work to speak up for those that don’t have a voice and try to steer the world towards the higher road. So it’s all your fault mom, are you happy? Alright I am ignoring this quality movie that was bootlegged onto a vhs tape about 15 years ago when it was shown on TV and then it was burned to DVD. Now the picture looks like you are looking at it through a glass of water and listening to it through a pillow. But if I concentrate really hard I can almost tell what’s going on and I think it’s a pretty good movie.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Election 2008 from the Liberian Perspective...
So where do I begin with this. Well as you all probably know I have been all about Obama from the very beginning so I am putting that personal bias out there from the beginning so you can take this with a grain of salt if you so desire for all those that are of the more conservative mindset, or you can listen and think about it your call. But anyway...
So since the election started I have been in three countries for extended periods of time. I watched the Iowa results come in from a hotel room in Putamayo Colombia and listened to human rights workers there talk about how their country would get better with Obama in office because he would be less likely to fund their corrupt government that has them in the crossfire (Bush's strongest ally in this hemisphere is President Uribe of Colombia and continues to funnel them billions of dollars for their military which as proven links to para-military groups who are responsible for some of the most gruesome human rights violations you can imagine... good thing we are paying for it all, makes me proud to be an American). I talked with displaced people there that asked me the oddest question, or to me it was the oddest question, "will they let Obama win?" Not, "can obama win?" or "will obama win?" but "will they let him win?" The thought of whether or not the powers at be with their "swift boat" esq maneuvers had never crossed my mind, was I naive or were they overly cynical? Probably a little bit of both.
So in March I found myself walking around dusty side streets in the highlands of Peru as state after state voted and it looked more and more like he was going to run away with the whole deal. I walked around and saw handmade Obama posters put up in peoples windows and once finding out I was American the first topic of conversation was again "will they let obama win?" Was I missing something here that every one else knew that I didn't? Were they all privy to some sort of bit of information that had been withheld from me? Granted both Colombia and Peru both have horrible records of elections being stolen but the US's record is only slightly better with the supreme court deciding one election and then another being high jacked by swift boat BS and the unbearable thought of two consenting adults making their own decisions and living with the consequences.
Now I am in Liberia and it is Obama mania. Recently I was walking around the streets of Monrovia the capital, with my Barack Obama pin proudly placed on my bag for all to see and wow did everyone see it. Sometimes I couldn't walk more than 15 steps before another group of people would remark on my button and usually call me over to talk about Obama. Thankfully I just got done reading his books so I could tell them all about his story and what not. Again came that pesky question though "will they let him win?" So here is what I gathered from these talks of mine. Liberians like Barack Obama because:
- He is black and they are black and they think it would be amazing to have a black man as president of the United States of America.
- His dad was from Kenya, that was just one generation ago. Because of the war here many of them have family that have become refugees in the United States and it gives them hope that maybe their sister or brothers son that was born in America could become the president.
- It makes people believe in the Utopian image that is the United States of America. So many people want to come to America because it is the land of opportunity, the American dream and all that jazz. The defender of justice and the all around good guys. However the last 8 years with a war in Iraq that everyone except a few holdouts in the states recognizes was based on a lie, our making torture an official part of US foreign policy, our ignoring of international law and regulation, our down turn in economy, our negligence about the environment etc etc have all darkened that image. However with this one move the US has shown the world that underneath the dirt, filth and lies of the last 8 years we are still that shiny beacon pulling ourselves out from the mess we have made.
People around the world are in awe of the American experiment and what we are again accomplishing. In any other country no member of a minority group would ever get that far. Would a Turk ever become president of Germany, hell no. How about a Copt the president or leader of Egypt, I wouldn't hold your breath. Maybe a Shiite becomes the leader of Saudi Arabia or a black man becomes president of any of the countries in South America? yeah right. Only in America could this happen and it gives the world hope. Not just Americans are tired of the lies and the bully tactics the world is pretty sick of it as well.
Think of it this way, the election of the next US president will deeply effect the lives of every single human being on this earth nearly without exception and how many people actually get to vote in that election? of the 7 billion plus people only .3 billion actually get a say in this. So if you don't think your vote matters it matters a heck of a lot more than the poor guy sitting in his shack in Liberia that kissed the cover of "dreams of my fathers" when he saw a picture of Obama for the first time.
So I guess I will leave it like this, who will make our country more safe? A person that inspires the world over and reminds the world why America is so special and unique, or the guy that wants us to stay in Iraq for another 100 years. I know my answer better figure out yours...
preaching over for the day. To anyone that this post offended... I would say I'm sorry but I am not. Feel free to leave comments or e-mail me to talk about it though.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Monrovia – the Las Vegas of West Africa… Except not quite
So let me see where did I leave things off? Who really remembers, and who really cares? I guess we will just pick up where I can think I left off and tell you all what has been happening. So last week we had this training on Liberian Land Laws… it very well might be that there could have been a more boring meeting but I don’t really know how. For example we spent about fifteen minutes naming all things that were property.
Moderator: Can anyone name something that can be property?
Group: (very quite and everyone looking at their feet)
Moderator: Anyone? (I was hoping he would say something along the lines of Bueller, Bueller, Bueller, but it didn’t happen)
Group: a house is property
Someone else in the group: Not if you rent it.
First person again: well its still someone’s property even if you yourself is renting.
Someone else: what if its public land?
Another person: Pots are property
Yet another person: corn is property…
The conversation continued on in this sort of vein for, and I kid you not, well over half an hour before we then moved on to discussing the differences between physical property and intellectual property where a very similar conversation ensued. Anyway… I just thought I would share with you my misery. On the Brightside though the group that came to give the workshop catered lunch so we got a small piece of beef to go with our cassava leafs and rice so that was nice.
So I went to Monrovia this weekend to go to church. I planned to stay with this guy named Liam whom I met here at DEN-L the first couple days I was here. He works for a Irish Catholic development agency and they fund DEN-L so he is up here from time to time and had offered the invitation to take his spare bed room if I ever made it down to Monrovia. His place was, now looking back in hindsight, your standard bachelor pad. However, after only a month out here in Gbarnga with trips to the bush and what not on a frequent basis, his placed looked like a mansion at first. His agency foots the bill for his apartment in a gated community with a swimming pool and electric generator that goes for 24 hours a day. He has air conditioning and hot water (although the pipes appear to be rusting cause it came out orange). He has a refrigerator and the most blessed of all modern inventions a washing machine and a dryer. I nearly cried at the sight of something so beautiful.
Monrovia for its part is a city that has seen better days. All around are signs of its once better past and its current state of shambles. There are telephone poles with no wires anymore to carry electricity since most o f the city is still without power. There are manholes to mark where the sewer system lies dormant long since inoperable. There are street lights all throughout downtown but without power they are just another place for the birds to perch before they go and pick at any one of the many piles of trash laying about the place. The buildings are run down and shattered still. I guess 3 years is not quite enough time to rebuild a city after 13 years of civil war. I really don’t understand it all but there it is. The city is a madhouse with development workers and the what not. I often wonder how much good we are all actually doing. So much of the economy of Liberia now depends solely on the nearly infinite waves of human rights workers, agriculture specialists, financial advisors and what not that are flown into the city and then shuttled around by the swarm of white SUVs with different acronyms painted on their sides. I wonder if everyone in the UN really needs their own private Toyota Land Cruiser.
I think the most interesting thing was going into the western restaurants. A large part of me was all too happy to sit in the air conditioned bliss and let the western world flow over me. A cold Dr. Pepper, a large plate of Kung Pao Chicken, a cup of hot chocolate, well why not. A swim in the pool… ok sounds good to me. Every time I would try to indulge myself though I would look over and see our waiter or waitress and think how they would be spending the ten dollars I was spending for my dish, for food for their family for a week and I felt ashamed. I would take a dip in the pool and then stick my head out of the water and see the guards going about their business and think how they never in their lives would be able to afford to live in a complex like that. Everything seemed like an extravagance and seemed so wasteful. I spent the weekend living in the top 10% for a change and it felt wrong, just wrong. How could it feel right with all those around me that had nothing and that were just hoping for some crumbs to fall from my table for them to fight over. That’s not what God had it mind when he sent us down here. That’s why the scriptures talk about all the perfect societies having all things in common and there being no poor among them. Those societies were happy, they were prosperous and they were healthy. Those societies are my model and I know that I will never get the world to be like that but the Lord never really expected us to be perfect now did he? He just told us to try to be, I guess I wont stop trying.
However, even when I go back to Gbarnga where I am now and living a life much like everyone else I work with I am still different. For me this is three months of sacrifice to experience the “developing world.” For all my friends here though this is not an experience, this is their life. They can’t take a weekend off to go drink hot chocolate and lay around in air conditioning. If the country decends into civil war again no helicopter will be sent for them because they happen to have a little blue passport. I am still just a glorified tourist, a google eyed sightseer staring at zoo exhibits knowing that at the end of the day I get to leave the zoo and leave everything else there. I guess it’s a good thing I worked so hard to be born in the right country (please read this last sentence with the thickest sarcasm you can possibly imagine). Is this what they mean when they say liberal white guilt? Or is this just having a conscious? And is there a difference? From where I am sitting right now it just seems like common sense. Perhaps I will look back on this in twenty-thirty years and laugh at how naïve and idealist I was, I know that a few years perspective seems to change everything and have figured out that those older than me do know things I don’t, but then again whats wrong with a little bit of idealism?
So I want to rant about another important topic but I will save that for the next time, let’s just give you the teaser that I am quite sure that Barack Obama could become president of Liberia with no problem if the republicans pull more of their dirty “swift boat” crap against him. Anyway… I think I should end this on a happy note.
So while in Liberia I met tons of people who were curious as to why a white person was walking in the street and not riding by in one of the white SUVs that make up the fleet of the NGO community there. Anyway I told them that I worked for an NGO in Bong County and that I did conflict resolution work up in Lofa county with the Lorma and Mandingo tribes. A lot of the people were from Lofa and were displaced to the city or they had come looking for work and every time I met someone from up there they thanked me profusely telling me how glad they were that someone was working on that issue. People opened up and told me of their own prejudices and their recognition that hating the other tribe had been a waste of time and only brought them down. It was good to be appreciated and see that my work was having a real effect on the lives of real people with real issues. I don’t know that many people get to feel like their work is making people’s lives better, but I got to hear over and over again this weekend how, even the possibility and thought of my work, made people happy.
So this is it, this is all I have. I am done for now. Feel free to leave comments. My lifestyle is validated when you all leave comments telling me what you think and arguing with me or pointing out a perspective that I had not thought of. But like I said, I’m done for now. But I have a bit to write later as well so check back soon and tell me what you think.
Moderator: Can anyone name something that can be property?
Group: (very quite and everyone looking at their feet)
Moderator: Anyone? (I was hoping he would say something along the lines of Bueller, Bueller, Bueller, but it didn’t happen)
Group: a house is property
Someone else in the group: Not if you rent it.
First person again: well its still someone’s property even if you yourself is renting.
Someone else: what if its public land?
Another person: Pots are property
Yet another person: corn is property…
The conversation continued on in this sort of vein for, and I kid you not, well over half an hour before we then moved on to discussing the differences between physical property and intellectual property where a very similar conversation ensued. Anyway… I just thought I would share with you my misery. On the Brightside though the group that came to give the workshop catered lunch so we got a small piece of beef to go with our cassava leafs and rice so that was nice.
So I went to Monrovia this weekend to go to church. I planned to stay with this guy named Liam whom I met here at DEN-L the first couple days I was here. He works for a Irish Catholic development agency and they fund DEN-L so he is up here from time to time and had offered the invitation to take his spare bed room if I ever made it down to Monrovia. His place was, now looking back in hindsight, your standard bachelor pad. However, after only a month out here in Gbarnga with trips to the bush and what not on a frequent basis, his placed looked like a mansion at first. His agency foots the bill for his apartment in a gated community with a swimming pool and electric generator that goes for 24 hours a day. He has air conditioning and hot water (although the pipes appear to be rusting cause it came out orange). He has a refrigerator and the most blessed of all modern inventions a washing machine and a dryer. I nearly cried at the sight of something so beautiful.
Monrovia for its part is a city that has seen better days. All around are signs of its once better past and its current state of shambles. There are telephone poles with no wires anymore to carry electricity since most o f the city is still without power. There are manholes to mark where the sewer system lies dormant long since inoperable. There are street lights all throughout downtown but without power they are just another place for the birds to perch before they go and pick at any one of the many piles of trash laying about the place. The buildings are run down and shattered still. I guess 3 years is not quite enough time to rebuild a city after 13 years of civil war. I really don’t understand it all but there it is. The city is a madhouse with development workers and the what not. I often wonder how much good we are all actually doing. So much of the economy of Liberia now depends solely on the nearly infinite waves of human rights workers, agriculture specialists, financial advisors and what not that are flown into the city and then shuttled around by the swarm of white SUVs with different acronyms painted on their sides. I wonder if everyone in the UN really needs their own private Toyota Land Cruiser.
I think the most interesting thing was going into the western restaurants. A large part of me was all too happy to sit in the air conditioned bliss and let the western world flow over me. A cold Dr. Pepper, a large plate of Kung Pao Chicken, a cup of hot chocolate, well why not. A swim in the pool… ok sounds good to me. Every time I would try to indulge myself though I would look over and see our waiter or waitress and think how they would be spending the ten dollars I was spending for my dish, for food for their family for a week and I felt ashamed. I would take a dip in the pool and then stick my head out of the water and see the guards going about their business and think how they never in their lives would be able to afford to live in a complex like that. Everything seemed like an extravagance and seemed so wasteful. I spent the weekend living in the top 10% for a change and it felt wrong, just wrong. How could it feel right with all those around me that had nothing and that were just hoping for some crumbs to fall from my table for them to fight over. That’s not what God had it mind when he sent us down here. That’s why the scriptures talk about all the perfect societies having all things in common and there being no poor among them. Those societies were happy, they were prosperous and they were healthy. Those societies are my model and I know that I will never get the world to be like that but the Lord never really expected us to be perfect now did he? He just told us to try to be, I guess I wont stop trying.
However, even when I go back to Gbarnga where I am now and living a life much like everyone else I work with I am still different. For me this is three months of sacrifice to experience the “developing world.” For all my friends here though this is not an experience, this is their life. They can’t take a weekend off to go drink hot chocolate and lay around in air conditioning. If the country decends into civil war again no helicopter will be sent for them because they happen to have a little blue passport. I am still just a glorified tourist, a google eyed sightseer staring at zoo exhibits knowing that at the end of the day I get to leave the zoo and leave everything else there. I guess it’s a good thing I worked so hard to be born in the right country (please read this last sentence with the thickest sarcasm you can possibly imagine). Is this what they mean when they say liberal white guilt? Or is this just having a conscious? And is there a difference? From where I am sitting right now it just seems like common sense. Perhaps I will look back on this in twenty-thirty years and laugh at how naïve and idealist I was, I know that a few years perspective seems to change everything and have figured out that those older than me do know things I don’t, but then again whats wrong with a little bit of idealism?
So I want to rant about another important topic but I will save that for the next time, let’s just give you the teaser that I am quite sure that Barack Obama could become president of Liberia with no problem if the republicans pull more of their dirty “swift boat” crap against him. Anyway… I think I should end this on a happy note.
So while in Liberia I met tons of people who were curious as to why a white person was walking in the street and not riding by in one of the white SUVs that make up the fleet of the NGO community there. Anyway I told them that I worked for an NGO in Bong County and that I did conflict resolution work up in Lofa county with the Lorma and Mandingo tribes. A lot of the people were from Lofa and were displaced to the city or they had come looking for work and every time I met someone from up there they thanked me profusely telling me how glad they were that someone was working on that issue. People opened up and told me of their own prejudices and their recognition that hating the other tribe had been a waste of time and only brought them down. It was good to be appreciated and see that my work was having a real effect on the lives of real people with real issues. I don’t know that many people get to feel like their work is making people’s lives better, but I got to hear over and over again this weekend how, even the possibility and thought of my work, made people happy.
So this is it, this is all I have. I am done for now. Feel free to leave comments. My lifestyle is validated when you all leave comments telling me what you think and arguing with me or pointing out a perspective that I had not thought of. But like I said, I’m done for now. But I have a bit to write later as well so check back soon and tell me what you think.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
read this or the terrorists win...
So I don't really remember what else happened in Lofa ( that is code for me not wanting to go back and read the last entry and then piece back my memmories to figure out where I left off), so I am just going to go from where I can remember.
First off this internship is turning out to being amazing. The Liberians really respect education, almost to a fault. Here a college degrees = smarter, more capable, better, etc. a masters degree = walking on water. They dont seem to have realized that some of the biggest idiots I know have college degrees and some of the smartest people I know need a college education like they need another hole in their head. Anyway... so when I got back from Lofa the director and assistant director wanted me to tell them all about what I thought and what critiques I had and all this kind of stuff. I keep trying to remind people that I am here to learn from them but they dont seem to listen to that. That being said, I have found a few of the articles that I read for classes last year online and have sent them around to everyone. they inhale them over night, coming back the next day with a laundry list of questions and ideas. It is really quite interesting. I mean i don't really feel like I am sharing that much knowledge but I guess I am able to point them in the right direction.
So I am really excited about some of the programs I want to work on. I was basically told that I could do anything I want so I am going to try a couple of different things. Firstly I am writing up a proposal for opening up a third track diplomacy option between the villages. So basically what that means is in addition to our work with the official hierarchy of the communities (which seems to have hit a slight wall because the Mandingo leaders are not cooperating as much as we would like... ok so they are dodging all our efforts for the most part) we will work with common every day people and get them together. so take like 3 people from each village bring them here to DEN-L and have a three or four day retreat with each other. get them focused on what they share in common and not what they have different and let them make friends and what not. then they go home and they tell their friends that hey these lorma or these mandingo are so bad and its sort of a ripple effect and we just keep bringing people here. like i said i am writing up the proposal hopefully i make it sound convincing enough cause i really think it could help.
the other idea I had was to use theatre or some sort of acting to help get our message across. so one of the branches of DEN-L is a group that does just that, they use music and theatre and what not to get messages across... so i was thinking that we could re write romeo and juliet and re work it so it was about the lorma and the mandingo instead. I think it will be a huge hit but i need to bounce it off people as always.
alright those are my thoughts for now. its late they should turn off the generator soon.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
screw 7 years in Tibet, try a week in Lofa
So I got to go into the field this last week and do some follow up on a workshop between the Mandingo and Loma People in Northern Lofa county on the border with Guinea. These guys had been at each other for a long time, mostly just a lot of distrust and bad stereotypes not many wars but the ones that they did have were quite brutal. The war came and exacerbated things as they split primarily along ethnic lines as to who they supported. The Loma were seen to have supported Charles Taylor and the Mandingo were huge supporters of LURD that over threw Taylor. On top of this there is the issue of religion as the Mandingo are almost all Muslim and the Loma are pretty much all Christian. So after trading off back and forth during the war, a massacre at a masque here, a retaliatory slaughter of the village elders there... (i wont go into details but lets just say ... HOLY CRAP!!!) the war ended and they now find themselves living next to each other again and things are tense. Their villages are still pretty much completely segregated especially after the war. However their villages are so close that their kids all attend the same schools and their appears to be a lot less tension in the 20 and under crowd and we are starting to see a lot of mixed marriages and what not which is always a good sign.
So it was needless to say quite an interesting week with many eye opening experiences. Hearing about atrocities from the war committed on both sides was humbling especially to be sitting in the same room with someone listening to him tell me the horrible things that he had done, sometimes the person was repentant other times not so much... I'm glad I am not the one that has to sort all this out in the end, I'm glad God is perfect and just cause I don't have a clue where to start.
there were a bunch of fun memories though... so in this one village we stayed at, i was sitting outside after the sun had gone down so it was completely dark out except for the stars, which reminds me... holy crap the stars are amazing. anyway... so I was talking to the person whose hut i would be staying in that night and all these little kids came up around me to listen to the white man talk, i would say there was about 10-20 of them... anyway... so i ask the kids if they like to sing and if they will sing me a song... they tell me to sing a song first. So tell them to start clapping with me. we start clapping and then i sang "lake of fire" (its a meat puppets' song that nirvana covered on their unplugged album) and everyone cheers and laughs, then i make them sing a song, then i sing another song and then them... we go back and forth like this for a while and the crowd has by this point surged to like 70 people standing around singing and laughing and clapping and dancing. soon some body pulls out this guitar looking thing and they are all like "we want to see you dance" I told them they had to sing a song i could dance to... they start clapping and singing and the guitar guy plays his guitar so i jumped up and did some weird little funky white boy dance in this circle of laughing screaming Liberians. the only thing i could really see clearly was their white smiles in the darkness... it was awesome... i laughed hysterically... so very much fun. Soon everyone was dancing and it was just so very much fun. I finally went to bed at like 11:00 way after the sun had gone down and after i had sung every song i could think of. I woke up the next day at 5:30 ish with the sun and the cursed roosters that I swear were right next to my ear.
I had quite an interesting diet while out and about as well. In Liberia they don't really make a distinction when it comes to meat, meat is just meat. whether it be fish, snail, cow, monkey whatever it is meat. So one of the members of our group went to the market to try to find us something to eat that night she came back dejected not being able to find any meat. we take off for the day and are driving down the long and bumpy road and we see a couple guys riding their bikes with their shotguns across their backs... from our moving car she yells at them if they have any meat. When they answer in the affirmative the drivers slams on the breaks sending everyone in the land rover flying. we reverse to talk to these two guys. One proceeds to pull out of his bag this small little dear looking animal that he had shot earlier that day. it was fully grown and came up to about my knee, it had been shot which broke its leg and then they cut its throat. there on the side of the road we bought the thing whole and unceremoniously threw it on top of the roof next to the spare tire and gasoline. awesome... that scene was repeated several times over the week with monkey, snails, you name it. whatever we could find, meat was meat. a much more simple kind of life. So for those of you that are wondering... monkey tastes alright but it has a nasty smell that stays on your hands all day long... oh and the people i was with made sure to buy extra monkey to bring back to Gbarnga with us because, and I quote "you can't get good monkey in Gbarnga these days."
So they are about to turn the power off on me, so I will write more about this last week probably tomorrow night is when the power will come back on. till then my friends and family till then.
So it was needless to say quite an interesting week with many eye opening experiences. Hearing about atrocities from the war committed on both sides was humbling especially to be sitting in the same room with someone listening to him tell me the horrible things that he had done, sometimes the person was repentant other times not so much... I'm glad I am not the one that has to sort all this out in the end, I'm glad God is perfect and just cause I don't have a clue where to start.
there were a bunch of fun memories though... so in this one village we stayed at, i was sitting outside after the sun had gone down so it was completely dark out except for the stars, which reminds me... holy crap the stars are amazing. anyway... so I was talking to the person whose hut i would be staying in that night and all these little kids came up around me to listen to the white man talk, i would say there was about 10-20 of them... anyway... so i ask the kids if they like to sing and if they will sing me a song... they tell me to sing a song first. So tell them to start clapping with me. we start clapping and then i sang "lake of fire" (its a meat puppets' song that nirvana covered on their unplugged album) and everyone cheers and laughs, then i make them sing a song, then i sing another song and then them... we go back and forth like this for a while and the crowd has by this point surged to like 70 people standing around singing and laughing and clapping and dancing. soon some body pulls out this guitar looking thing and they are all like "we want to see you dance" I told them they had to sing a song i could dance to... they start clapping and singing and the guitar guy plays his guitar so i jumped up and did some weird little funky white boy dance in this circle of laughing screaming Liberians. the only thing i could really see clearly was their white smiles in the darkness... it was awesome... i laughed hysterically... so very much fun. Soon everyone was dancing and it was just so very much fun. I finally went to bed at like 11:00 way after the sun had gone down and after i had sung every song i could think of. I woke up the next day at 5:30 ish with the sun and the cursed roosters that I swear were right next to my ear.
I had quite an interesting diet while out and about as well. In Liberia they don't really make a distinction when it comes to meat, meat is just meat. whether it be fish, snail, cow, monkey whatever it is meat. So one of the members of our group went to the market to try to find us something to eat that night she came back dejected not being able to find any meat. we take off for the day and are driving down the long and bumpy road and we see a couple guys riding their bikes with their shotguns across their backs... from our moving car she yells at them if they have any meat. When they answer in the affirmative the drivers slams on the breaks sending everyone in the land rover flying. we reverse to talk to these two guys. One proceeds to pull out of his bag this small little dear looking animal that he had shot earlier that day. it was fully grown and came up to about my knee, it had been shot which broke its leg and then they cut its throat. there on the side of the road we bought the thing whole and unceremoniously threw it on top of the roof next to the spare tire and gasoline. awesome... that scene was repeated several times over the week with monkey, snails, you name it. whatever we could find, meat was meat. a much more simple kind of life. So for those of you that are wondering... monkey tastes alright but it has a nasty smell that stays on your hands all day long... oh and the people i was with made sure to buy extra monkey to bring back to Gbarnga with us because, and I quote "you can't get good monkey in Gbarnga these days."
So they are about to turn the power off on me, so I will write more about this last week probably tomorrow night is when the power will come back on. till then my friends and family till then.
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