romance

Teacher interviews conducted this morning - had two great applicants who both happened to be Virgos. Hm ... are we really the best? haha

So much has happened since last post, but I have "small time" here until Joseph is taking me to lunch. His wife Felecia is making it. I was again so disoriented that I said ok, and then I invited Apphia (a new volunteer) to join us. Yes, it's all odd.

Yesterday, the chiefs marched. Bigwig chiefs from the area had a huge festival which I attended - it was pretty fascinating to see the dancing and entertainment, and then the chiefs carried in - on the heads of the people - in their fancy carriages. Very King and I ornate. Wesley, one of PCO's cultural troupe who has somehow decided to educate me, kept a running commentary about what was going on.

The day before, he taught me to drum - they had just performed and they're quite good. So I got a little rhythm. There was big party at our guest house and the Awutu watch team was there so that our people don't get stopped by them at night. It's really scary to be Liberian around here. I kept being dragged into the dancing and congo line - good times.

The man we call Chief Fanta has taken up residence in our guest house along with a large entourage. We call him that because he expects us to fetch him Fanta soda when he wishes. OF course, it doesn't happen quite like he expects. He's a minor subchief who usually lives in Accra and hangs out here. Part of me is really annoyed at the major inconveniences of the huge increase in population at the house, but most of me is cool with it - and his daughters let us help pound cassava and are friendly.

So, my romantic news is a little less dramatic now - things still haven't been sorted out with Joseph, but they will be. Dayton and I started "dating" and it's good times. We're really comfortable together. He's in Accra today checking with the UN about his political refugee status. I don't know what the future holds - I mean, his favorite music is country western - but seeing him every day is something to look forward to. (Um, yeah, for those of you paying attention - yeah, I did say he's married. But, um, they were never officially married and they haven't seen each other in years [because of war] which often means the woman has remarried, and, um, well, I'll stop talking now.)

The plans for the school are moving forward. It's raining lots. I sprained my ankle running away from "cassava boy" - this Ghanian man who is really insistent about getting to know me. Popularity - highly overrated. Blah. Now I cannot run very fast ...

OK, I better post it before power goes out again.

deputy wife and termites

OK, I’m trying to keep this blog rated G (or whatever they call that rating for children now), but this morning is too interesting to not relate.

I stopped by Dayton’s shop before coming to the meeting about the school. Just a quick hello – he said he had looked for me at the party last night in the camp which I didn’t go to, and invited me to the peace cell meeting on Saturday which he will be leading. That changes my weekend travel plans, but as I said to him, “I want to go to the meeting.” “I want you to come, yes,” and we made plans to meet. He had earlier suggested hanging out Friday or Saturday evening which is cool. As I said posts ago, I think, I can speak normally (at my normal speed) to him – he understands me well (probably because he’s been friends with international volunteers in the past) – and we agree about most things and he’s easy to hang out with. So then I was thinking that I’d ask if he wants to go to the Cape Coast castle with me (where slaves were held before being packed on ships) on Sunday.

Now, I’m not naïve. Dayton loves the mother of his children but hasn’t seen her in a few years, and this is Africa – land of the deputy wives. I find him attractive, but I think it would be less problematic if we’re just friends. He’s not an active PCO staff member and most the other volunteers don’t know him, but I guess I’ll just cross those bridges as I get there and I just enjoy spending time with people I connect with. Morris took me to meet his mother and showed me his house the other day, and Madison has told me how badly he needs a partner – but I have no interest and I’m clear and nobody is losing face. Fred has explained the whole hands-off philosophy – once one has expressed an interest, the others may not act. Which makes sense, but I was like, “Um, but what about the WOMAN deciding if she is interested or not??” Fred agreed, but it’s a complicated situation with men trying to get along in a shortage of women.

And then, less than an hour later, I was asked to be deputy wife by another man. Maybe I shouldn’t use real names, but oh well. Jenny and I have tried in the past to use made-up names but we always get confused.

When our school meeting was disbanding somewhat, Joseph asked to speak to me outside. He led me far away from the building, to the tree at the end of the courtyard.

[PS – people are so nice here – the man was just making announcements about shutting down computers but I wasn’t listening, so he came right to me and explained again. Maybe I should be insulted that he assumes I’m stupid because I’m white, but I think he just saw that I wasn’t listening.]

[Oh good grief – now the guy next to me is hitting on me. What? Is purple my color today? Fortunately Samuel and Fred just showed up and saved me from embarrassing situation.]

OK, so Joseph and I started talking. He said, you have been here for a week or more, and you are here only a month, so I can wait no more to tell you how I feel. You know I am married, but we are in Africa, and it is ok to have different friendships with whoever you want.

At this point I’m thinking “friendship” may not be getting coffee at Starbucks once a month. I ask him to get to the point.

“I feel love for you. Life is short, we should tell those who we feel that for. I want to be very close to you. And since the first day, I feel this way. I think you feel the same way.”

OK, Joseph is very attractive and I do really like being around him. BUT I KNOW HIS WIFE. She has fed me. I have visited her. I like her. I saw her Tuesday and she asked me to come visit again. And that’s what I said to him. And part of why he is attractive is because he is such a good husband and father. It’s ok to find people attractive and never act on it.

And he said that she is fine with him being with other women – which may very well be true – and I don’t have to make a big deal out of it, which is true. It was just really surreal. I was … surprised. I appreciate the directness – is that not what I’ve been saying? And then I said I couldn’t talk about it anymore – major cultural confusion – and he said we’d talk again later and could he visit me in Awutu to which I did clearly say no (though he was just there yesterday with his son).

I said I wanted a PCO title, but the one I was looking for was not deputy wife. I was thinking more like educational coordinator than easy white girl. But that’s what is interesting – it wasn’t like he was assuming I was an easy white girl and I don’t think he would disrespect me and I don’t feel unsafe in any way at all. He was just feeling the love. And I’m way too uptight to be as Liberian as I was becoming. I may wear a lappa, but I can’t do the whole polygamy thing. Every person I know here has a father with multiple wives – and this generation is in an awkward place between the two worlds.

ANYWAY …

Gigantic termites invaded our house the other evening. We have these really huge (way taller than me) termite hills around the area, and they were apparently letting loose the wanna-be queens and kings. Everybody thought they were moths, but I recognized the little buggers – they’re just like 10 times larger than the ones in Riverside. The next morning I saw wings everywhere. The house – as all – is made of cement, so no stress. Just very interesting.

Oh, the very best news is gardening!! Yesterday I said to Emmanuel, do you have friends who garden? And he took me out to the house’s garden! Isaac had planted corn, but too late so it was unproductive and weeds took over. I spent a couple hours out there clearing before it started to rain – Fred and Cathy joined in as well – and we got a lot done. We’ll go get seeds soon for tomatoes and chili peppers and okra and watermelon and cucumbers and potato greens. It’s a pity I won’t be here to enjoy it, but it was just so nice to dig in the dirt.

Yesterday was Liberian flag day, so we all celebrated in our own ways. Mine was to spend much of the day after the rain started reading Liberian history. Lawrence came over (yes, the Lawrence with whom I exchanged loud angry words a couple days ago) and we had such a good talk. But I am an idiot. We spoke of Samuel Doe, the president who was killed in 1990, and I said, “Oh, you remember when he was killed?” I thought it would be like me always remembering where I was when I heard about 9/11 or space shuttles exploded.

Um, yeah, Lawrence remembers the day very well because along with Samuel Doe a number of Doe’s staff were killed – including Lawrence’s father, uncle, and older brothers. That day in April left Lawrence as the only surviving male family member.

I know Liberia is a small country, but sometimes I am surprised at how small it is and how everybody is connected. I’m also surprised at how candid people are willing to be with me. Lawrence described to me the rage he felt and his desire for revenge – and then I started to understand about child soldiers and ethnic rivalries and those things.

What do I like about being here? I like the friendly, honest openness. I like that I see goats and chickens running around when I look out my door. I like that I feel really safe – both friends and strangers are always looking out for me but giving me space at the same time, usually waiting for me to ask when I need help. I like that the pace of life is slower. Sometimes I get frustrated in meetings, but it’s not really uncomfortable. I like to see people working together to make a very bad situation better. I like being about to have meetings where we yell and argue and work things through and then are friends again (though I think we really scared the new volunteer this morning).

I do not like the mosquitoes – I’m getting many bites and I cannot even see the mosquitos when they do it. I had given up on the idea of the mosquito net because it was disturbing me – but then yesterday morning I woke up with small splotches of blood on my sheets – apparently my arms, etc. were bitten during the night and bled. So, I am no longer over the mosquito net or my anti-malarial medication. Neither are 100% effective, but hopefully together they keep me healthy.

OK, time to get back to work. If blogger will ever come up and let me post. Sigh. Maybe the slower pace of life will make me less impatient.

umbrella

OK, when I said I would attend the peace cell meeting come hell or high water, I thought I was exaggerating. But the weather apparently is making me live up to my words. The little drizzle earlier became a torrent, and the roads quickly become very muddy.

I went back to the guest house in Awutu with taxi - Lawrence and Charlotte and I took the PA system to the house. Apparently we'll be hosting some big shindig soon (a new chief is coronated on Thursday and there's a weeklong celebration in Awutu). That's a little exhausting for me - when I get home at the end of the day, I want to rest. Instead, we've been playing host. And usually it's good and I like the people, but it's still a lot of energy. I have no idea how Emmanuel does it - he is "on" all the time and he gets no break from being Mr. Executive Director. (Well, apparently he's not doing it that well - he has a horrible headache and body aches now, which I had predicted from the stress level I saw in him last night. So, he's kind of taking today off.)

The rain got harder. Katie's friend Ronnie just got here last night from England, so we used that to justify having a taxi actually pick us up at the house - which is such a luxury I've never dreamed of. When we take taxi, it's from and to bus stops usually. So here I am - but I once again forgot to bring the book I'm reading and the curtains to measure to replace. The book is Blue Clay People, and it is really fascinating - about a Catholic Relief Services director in Liberia recently - about how the expatriates create an alternate universe where they buffer themselves from the very hard realities of the need.

What is so fascinating is how really different that is here with us. It's wonderful, really. There is no separation between us, the PCO staff, and refugees in general. There is no buffer - we eat the same food, use the same latrines, and spend our time together. The one difference is money - we western volunteers, though definitely not wealthy, have more than they do, and can do things like go to Kakum National Park for the weekend.

Of course, when you're that close, warts and all are exposed. Lawrence and I were shouting at each other rather angrily yesterday - he was so pissed off that he felt that Christine had usurped his authority and he felt disrespected. And I was pissed off that he was jumping all over Christine's ass when we had discussed it at the meeting and decided as a group but he didn't come to the meeting. Clearly there was a much bigger issue - while the director wants international volunteers to take over everything, the rest of the staff is much less convinced that's such a good idea.

But then we were at peace today. Not that we'll ever be best friends - he's the person here I feel least drawn to. But we can yell and hash out and listen to each other and be ok. And I like that a lot.

I also like the oft-explicitness. Yesterday while I was on the internet, I had copies made of the "Marita" book. The women in my class are obsessed with it - their teacher on Mondays uses it and they cannot get enough of it. I call it the Marita cult, but I will feed them their opium if it makes them come back for more learning. Anyway, I left it with the clerk while I computered away, and then picked it up. He had collated it all very nicely for me. "What is your name?" he asked. "[ME], and yours?" "Clarence. Now we be friends."

That's all it takes? A name exchange and doing something nice for me? Cool. And since then he definitely does act like my friend - ignoring others to help me, always greeting and saying goodbye. Not sleezy or anything, just friendly.

Both the Ghanaians and Liberians are not pushy, and I love it. I get these funny "walk-bys" though. They'll wait until they're past me before saying something showing interest. So, I get the ego stroke without having to deal with it - because I'm not stopping my stride to look back at a man. I'm not rude, I'm just not interested. And I'll argue as necessary, which seems to work for me well - like in the park when somebody was trying to give us flak and I was like, "No, it will be like this." And then he got like super nice to me and the rest of that day and the next was my friend and helpful.

But when I do ask for help, they are so helpful and take responsibility for me. I'll ask a storekeeper how to get somewhere and she'll point it out and when we come back by she rushes out to ask if we found it ok. Or when we asked some what the reasonable tro-tro rate was, they offered to help us negotiate with the driver if we didn't want to. Just like that - everywhere I go there's a community looking out for me, but with a few exceptions not telling me what I have to do. I say no and it means no.

OK, time to cross the muddy camp. I've been hiding in here too long today, I fear.

loud Liberian politics

I think I learned my lesson yesterday – typing directly onto blogger rather than as a text document first. And the long post about food (for Gail) was lost due to power issues. Sigh.

Which would not be a good post now because I’m very hungry, but I’m on a computer and don’t want to give it up. This internet café is a busy place indeed. There is light drizzle outside, so I’m not in a hurry to rush back to Awutu (the village where we stay) though I do need to do some work there before returning this evening for my first peace cell meeting.

The peace cells are by zone – there are 12 zones in the Buduburam Refugee Settlement – about 42,000 people total in the camp. Anyway, we meet with tribal leaders in the zones – today is zone 2 – and they discuss their concerns of returning to Liberia and establishing peace there. I missed the last one and have been guilted ever since by several folks – it was apparently a really incredible one, with tribal animosities stirring to the surface and being explicitly discussed and acknowledged and worked out.

But I just ran into one of the leaders, Rufus, and he made it really clear that I am expected and it is not appropriate for me to miss another, so I will be there come hell or high water.

That’s something I really like here are the way I can be blunt and direct, as can others. There are very particular rules of politeness and all, but it is possible to be very clear.

Oh, related but not really – the funniest thing this morning. We had a meeting about the school and Madison was 22 minutes late. He said, “I am sorry, I had some problems because I am lonely. I had to take care of that.” He went on with the lamenting, gritting his teeth and grabbing my table and exclaiming, “I need a partner!” Cathy and I could only laugh hopelessly, and I got it turned around so now he will learn to cook and we will come to dinner at his house before we leave.

Last night we had VERY LOUD arguments about politics – first Liberian (Fred and Dayton firmly supporting Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf and convincing me thoroughly, Emmanuel not) and then about Bush (Emmanuel firmly supporting, the rest of us adamantly not). Christine arrived home to ask what we were shouting about – but it was just animated and passionate – just as I like it. Then Dayton took me and Fred and Emmanuel out to drinks (I wasn’t going to go because I was tired, but Fred said, “Ah, you international volunteers don’t want to go anywhere unless all together?” And he said it to Gillian and Cathy, but I took it to heart even though it’s not true for me). We were all tired, but they got enough Gordon’s Spark into me and I stopped being polite. I told Emmanuel everything on my mind – from doubting his commitment to education because of his failure as a father to my frustration with bloated bureaucracy and inappropriate faith in the Great White Wonders of international volunteers. He said it was good, and he knows I’m fond of him and love PCO and the possibilities, but I’m starting to feel like all I do is criticize him so I need to ease up a bit.

Unrelated – every person I meet here is from a family where the father had about 3-6 wives. Fascinating. Dayton says it’s a real problem because of the problems that are created between the children of different mothers (he has two children, with one woman, and they are unable to get out of the Ivory Coast and join him here).

Dayton was willing to talk to me about all I wanted to, but when he was near tears to talk about missing his family, I realized that my queries could be tempered. He said he has many questions for me next time we meet, so we’ll see if he can take me to tears as well.

I was perhaps a little aggressive in my questions – for awhile I was only meeting men who had basically abandoned their children and took no responsibility for them, and they made me angry. But then Morris told me about being a single father and Dayton clearly would much rather be with his family than not. So, I had jumped to conclusions (at least in part because I had been told so) about how war had changed men’s roles in a way that was not the whole picture.

Dayton also made the best sense about what it means to be a refugee. He is 35 years old, separated by two wars from his children and their mother, and his life is completely on hold. He was in college when the war broke out in 1990, and he had to drop out to flee. And he’s been doing so ever since. His adult years have been spent trying to get by and suspending his real life … but he doesn’t whine at all. That’s the most impressive – I hear no whining. I hear honest reflections on what it means to see your family murdered, to escape from rebels, to be separated from everybody you love … but I don’t hear whining.

The most whining comes from me. I was so angry yesterday I was ready to march into the UNHCR compound and start spitting on commissioners. There are many treaties and world agreements that a fundamental children’s right is to education, and yet UNHCR does not build enough schools for all children and charges high fees to those who can actually get in. And their clinic costs money. And then I walked past a bulletin board outside their compound that says, “All UNHCR services are free.” But that is just a freaking lie!!

It is not safe to return to Liberia. People have been here since 1990 (though most I meet came in the late 1990’s). They are stuck here. And there is amazing self-reliance and ingenuity, but how is the world community not supplying the basics such as education – and clean water and toilets? ARGH!! It makes me all so really angry.

Well, internet time is up so hopefully it posts this time.

Crocodile eyes

Thanks to Jenny for searching! All leads are helpful.

And thanks to Lynda! Um ... let me think about where to send $$. Maybe to my friend Susan who is handling all my money - if money were deposited there, I could then withdraw with my debit card in Accra and deposit into PCO's account on camp. Stay tuned on that ... I'm hoping to get a "donations" button on the website soon if we can figure out how to allow credit cards. All this takes so long since our internet access is so limited - one real internet cafe on camp, with very slow access and a gazillion other things to do during the day when it's open. I'll talk to Emmanuel and will try to figure things out. Also, PCO is registered as a non-profit in Ghana, so I think the donations are tax-deductible, so I'd want a paper trail for that.

Here's the seeking for funding now. Joseph and I went over bare bones start-up inventory costs - one pencil each for the students, one piece of chalk per teacher per week, chalkboards, etc. - and it came to about $600. Teacher salaries will be either $125,000 cedis or $250,000 cedis (we're negotiating - and there will be about 11 teachers) - and there are $9,000 cedis per dollar, so what is that - around $20/month per teacher? Which is ... well, here's the scoop on that. The teacher pay rate on camp is $250,000, but a big bag of rice is over $300,000. So even if we can somehow get enough funding to pay that much, it's still charity work really. Samuel, the finance director, says we can't pay that much. I dunno. Discussions continue. Morris will be talking to an architect about how to build a school for real to get us the heck out of a church sanctuary with those classroom management nightmares and I'm just guessing around $12,000.

OK, on a less urgent note - I just saw crocodile eyes! Gillian and Cathy and I took off this morning and went west and then north to Kakum National Park. WE went on this really cool canopy walk - suspended bridges over the canopy of the rain forest - about 100 feet high. Such biodiversity! Very cool! Then our guide Robert took us on further hike through the forest talking about medicinal plants and other cool stuff and I saw black and white colobus. Now we're pampering ourselves by staying at a Hans Cottage Botel (and I just learned that this internet cafe costs $10,000 cedis per half hour so I'll hurry up faster now) which is quite cute and clean and the restaurant is above this pond which houses crocodiles. I just had a gin and sprite and a good dinner (love those fried plantains!) and will enjoy my room with a fan and a flushing toilet and soap - such luxury! For $12.50! Which seems like a ton of money to me now, but I'll live. Tomorrow we'll go back to the park, and then back to Awutu (where our house is). The tro-tro ride here was nice actually - mellow and not overcrowded and not too many exhaust fumes and only $14,000 cedis. I'm pretty good at negotiation and don't get overwhelmed with all the shouting at me. And the view was incredible - we went down along the ocean and saw some of the forts/castles where slavers held their captives. I'll come back to visit there. Though next week, I think we'll go to Lake Volta.

By the way, if anybody needs to call me - I can give Emmanuel's number and receive calls without it costing PCO, so just email me and I'll tell you what that number is.

So, a nice little weekend jaunt and then back to the camp on Monday.

This ties into a rough meeting Friday morning - a finance meeting that lasted hours and involved some upset. It all started when Samuel introduced a salary schedule - he wanted to not say what people would be making and they would find out when they got paid at the end of the month, and I disagreed. I said that if PCO keeps such secrets now it will only lead to problems later. They've all been volunteering with no pay for over two years, and I think finding a way to pay for all their work is very important - but I also think it needs to be done right. And I still don't think that I was wrong for suggesting that, but the brouhaha that broke out was unpleasant for all. But still good, to get things out on the table. Nobody would be making any more than $30/month, which is a frustration but not the only one. Things are cheaper here, but not close to free for damn sure.

Anyway, as I said then, I still think it was a very good meeting to start honestly and clearly discussing such things before resentment builds. Then I taught the adult literacy class and had a really good day. I just cannot articulate how hard it is for me to see all these women who are old enough to be my mother or grandmother who cannot read. Who struggle over reading, "What is your name?" But they are eager and we're getting into a groove already. The books I mailed which were donated by mostly Sierra friends have not arrived yet, but I did find some others that somebody else had sent and used those and it went well. Then I was supposed to meet Emmanuel back at home but he was late and I was glad because we were both so fried, so we kind of avoided each other until this morning. I washed clothes (of course by hand!) and cleaned and stuff - the camp work is so hard emotionally and mentally so I just wanted a physical release. Fred helped me take down these tacky musty curtains and I'll replace them with some cool African cloth, and I'm even fantasizing of painting the room. As long as I'm here I might as well make my surroundings prettier. (And yes Jenny, we totally miss your painting touch!) I fantasize of starting a garden, but that might be too much. Emmanuel and I talked about having one with the new school - teaching agriculture is really important in the repatriation process - but it's all pipe dream.

Anyway, I think I'm ready to cruise past the crocodiles again and then enjoy some electric light and read some more Liberian history (Christine has a nice library of books on the subject). I can't believe it was only a week ago that I left the states - seems like ages. Things feel normal here in many ways, though I am really fond of flushing toilets and no amount of cultural adaptation is going to change that.

not a jowler

Haha Jenny - sorry, no jowlers here. (I showed her the pics from Gail's website) I might be able to get them to do that, but it would feel a little inappropriate. I have to be so careful with what I say and do because I'm seen as a role model and holder of great wisdom.

Christine, a volunteer who has been here since April, was very upset because a woman had died of AIDS whom she had worked with closely. (HIV rate here is maybe 4% - quite low) Emmanuel broke the news not very sympathetically and there was some grumbling, so I talked to him. I was just like look, you're a leader, and you've had to harden your heart but it will help you to empathize with us. We had a really good talk and he talked about some of the atrocities he experienced and how he has responded to those. And I cannot ever understand the horrors he lived through but each time we talk I get a better picture. I just want to push him to move beyond - because until he does, he is limited in what he can do as a person, an activist, a leader.

Last night, he apologized to her and I overheard him taking some nuggets from our long conversation. Which is probably good, but I do need to be careful and I never want him to feel he has to do something because I want it. He's just so grateful in so many ways which makes him sometimes too malleable by me. And I am the oldest person around here - both PCO staff and volunteers - and the most educated. So, I try to hold my tongue until necessary.

There's a budget meeting today that I'm going to in a couple minutes. I want to help them find funding sources - with not having much time, and the slow internet connections I haven't been able to search enough. Anybody have time and could help out? In particular, we'd be looking for three areas:
1. The school - need money for construction of a structure (I'll get a budget today - probably about $6,000), for operating costs (teacher salaries), and for start-up materials (books and supplies)
2. The peace work - to pay the current volunteers to continue their great work
3. The women's cooperative - we need $$ to finish the building and then for supplies. 25% of revenue from that project will go to the school, so it all links together.

I would be happy to help them write grants and all (so if anybody has some down time and can troll the web for possibilities and send me links, please let me know), but sometimes I think the money we're talking about isn't that much - a carwash in the US would pay teacher salaries for months. Christine's parents did a fundraiser and started the women's cooperative.

OK, Fred summons me.

getting lost

After yesterday's post, nobody came to the PCO office so I decided to try to make it home alone.

Um, yeah. The tro-tro stop was easy, and the road to follow, but then things were much less clear. It's further than I remembered. So I took a path too soon and soon was immersed in an area that seemed vaguely familiar. Children shouting, "Hello! Oblony!" And I responded, "Do you know where I live?" A very quiet, regal 12-year old girl and her brother knew the general direction and showed me the maize in the bucket on their heads.

Then, a man emerging from an outdoor toilet said, "hello? Can I help you?" Um, yeah. An old woman had seen me wandering, clearly lost, and told him to help me. Fortunately, he knew Emmanuel and knew exactly where I needed to go, and he escorted me the distance. thanks, Ambrose!

But the house door was locked, and Amass had moved the key without telling us, and I was locked out. There's an old very poor man who spends most his time under a tree outside our house, so I sat near him on the step. I took a short nap, went to a nearby kiosk and got some "biscuits" and malta - which was this really nasty beer without alcohol and ended up watering the ground.

Then a young girl, maybe 7 years old, walked up and said, "My mother calls you." Um, ok, I've been summoned. so, I followed her and the next thing i knew I was eating "fufu" with the family. The mother had seen me, had been talking with the tree man, and the father said that Ghanaian tradition would not allow them not to invite me. They were so nice and we had a nice time - interrupted when the others got home andI saw Gillian looking in my room - Zia the kitten had somehow been trapped in my room all day.

Not bad for a day of getting lost and locked outside. it's a little dangerous perhaps, my belief that no matter what happens things will work out for the best, but i'm happy to meet the neighbors.

We had a very long meeting this morning - yes we do that a lot, because we're planning so many things - and i took a very assertive role and we decided some good things. The most interesting was that most of the teachers we had hired were Krahn - a tribe from Liberia - and we needed more diversity. Remember that tribal conflicts led to horrible bloodshed in Liberia, so PCO is based on bridging those differences. Of course I was at first annoyed - the reason they were mostly Krahn is that mostly Krahn applied. At least in part because there was little advertising, so many were people that Joseph knows. So, Morris will make public announcements and we'll begin the interviewing again on Wednesday.

I really like Joseph - and that is at least in part because he's so damn Western and feels so comfortable to me. He's obsessive about timeliness and such. I have a great picture of him with me which I hope to be able to upload - he's being goofy, which is odd for him because he's usually very serious. But, he was asking a big favor of me and I was giving him a hard time.

Emmanuel and Lawrence and I took tro-tro into Accra, and they just took off for a little bit. Oh, need to get to work seeing if I can figure out the website update. Emmanuel is quite the task master. no, not really - but he works so hard - and I just learned today that all the work Joseph does is volunteer, and I don't want to be a slacker when there are things to be done.

I need to find money for PCO. Grants maybe, begging from friends maybe. The school is really important and there's no funding. the organization is a really good one and they do good work that is really important. I'm contemplating coming back to do dissertation work - well, time will tell. It's only day 4. The other volunteers were commenting about how quickly I jumped into projects, but I'm just lucky that these are issues and projects that I have experience with. the meetings are brutally long and sometimes I get impatient, but they're quite remarkable for the consensus building and all that is done.

Oh, met again Augustine who came to the meeting. He is one of the most articulate people I've ever met, and I said so - he could take everything everybody said, add his own wisdom, and make quite a statement. We chatted on the way out, and he was the first to ask about my religion. Turns out he's a charismatic pastor. But he was willing to disagree with me, and i like that, and we may have more arguments in the future. I try to be careful with the others because they are less likely to disagree with me andI don't want to just impose my beliefs.

I apologize for the typos - the keyboards all seem to stick badly.

OK, on to work now.

Rain in Ghana

OK, drizzle. It's rather pleasant actually. Or maybe that's just because I got over my modesty and have zipped the pants part off my cargo pants and am exposing more white skin than most of the people have ever seen before.

All is well here. I'm tired, so that must mean I'm not bored ... or that there were baby goats crying outside my window late last night. Our house is up the hill from the road in a village Awutu, which is about a 5-10 minute "tro-tro" ride from the refugee camp. A tro-tro is a converted mini-van, etc that acts as a bus very informally. I haven't fully figured out the system so am fortunate to follow others. Very nice volunteers here, and a couple PCO staff live with us. Whom I need to find soon, for a peace cell meeting. They gather together Tribal Leaders to talk through the issues that lead to the violence in Liberia, what can be done, how they're feeling, etc. Should be an interesting meeting, and Emmanuel (director) wants to do research on it and needs my help.

Tomorrow he and I are going in to Accra (which is a deathwish of a ride away) to HOPEFULLY receive my luggage and upload pics/update the PCO website and maybe some university library research. There, I'm in my element. And even more so with my luggage.

I'm very tired open sewers already, and of rice. Otherwise, it's all pretty good.

Yesterday I got drafted at the last minute to teach a class on self-esteem and non-violence to Liberian refugee women. I felt really underprepared for the experience, but it was fine. We've spent a few mornings interviewing candidates for the new school which is opening soon. I'll need to prepare teacher orientation for that, we've been working on budget items, etc. Today I taught adult literacy for the first time and it did feel strange - to work with adult women in their 20's - 60's who are really illiterate. We worked on vowels. There are no supplies at all - I had a tiny piece of chalk which did not last long. No books, I don't know what the last teacher did, etc. The women were good sports, but it wasn't an ideal teaching experience.

Also spent some time yesterday in the Children's Literacy Center and it was chaos - a small one-room area with grades pre-K through 6th, supposedly partitioned into rooms, led by untrained volunteers with no materials, surrounded by a bunch of guys smoking pot, nails sticking through the wall, no electricity for lights or fans, etc etc. A definite challenge. I was going to be there right now, and Madison was to meet me as I still don't know my way around camp (it's HUGE - 42,000 people and no pattern), but I fled for a quiet moment. We had a very intense meeting this morning about hiring for the school - three hours of intense argumentation and disagreements and shouting and "yes, yes!" We hashed it out and I think it will be good, but I do worry about the school space - in a church, with partitions separating rooms - and lack of supplies. Well, they will be trained teachers, and that will make a huge difference.

I still don't really get how the camp works. So, the Liberians cannot work, so how do they get money? And everything costs - water, toilets, etc. (No running water) They're mostly supported by those who've been resettled in the US and other countries, and then those buy things from market people at the camp, and it all circulates.

Language is also fascinating. I hear they speak English, but that sure doesn't mean I understand a word. I can't tell when they speak Krahn (language) or others - it's all hard to understand if not speaking directly to me. Joseph, whom I usually understand very well, threw me with some Krahn proverb today, and the women insisting that "childrens" is the plural form.

Well, I'll head back to the PCO office now and hope somebody's there to lead me to the peace cell meeting. Otherwise I'll just wander around aimlessly while people stare at my white legs (nobody wears shorts here, and so very few are white of course), young children cry out "obliny" (white woman) and tell me I'm beautiful (some random man complimented my hair today, which is good since I haven't seen a mirror in days and it felt too short), and I get offers of marriage. Maybe I'll figure out the tro-tros and hitch a ride home, though I doubt I can make it through the jungle without extreme lostedness happening.

Arrived in Ghana!

I'm here in an internet cafe off the camp near the PCO office - and it's SLOOOOW. Don't know if I have the patience for it- or the $$. It won't get me to blogger so am not sure how to save it.
All went well with the journey - an interesting mini-chat at JFK with a fellow in an elevator. To get to my flight toAmsterdam I had to leave the secured area and trek in darkness outside and to an elevator to a train to the terminal. Clearly I was not thrilled with it - and as he approached me he clearly sized me up. "You have a lot of stuff." Yup. "You need to be careful." Cool. Warning from a not-mugger.

Anyway, highlights: my luggage is not here except for the excessively heavy carry-on backpack that I no longer feel silly for. I was met at the airport by Fred and Emanuel of PCO, and then the taxi got booted when we were getting in because the driver stopped in the wrong place. Fred and I walked some distance as the others worked things out with the police and a wad of cash changed hands.

We stay in a guest house which is ... rustic. I'm thrilled for electricity since my flashlight is in my luggage. There's no refrigeration (or shelving - food lies around tables) and the entrance is a courtyard where our clothes hang to dry. It's a nice layout with the courtyard and Amass cooks dinner for us. She's great - everybody is.

There are several international volunteers - from US, Canada, India. They seem a very nice group. Emanuel is the head of the organization and he's sharp as a whip. His parents tell him he's 25, but he thinks he's older (I'd agree) but there's no birth certificate or any such thing. He's Liberian, as they all are at the camp (though he lives in the guest house with us). We had nice political conversations in the taxi last night and while I see he annoys the others at time I see good times ahead for us. He's underthrilled with taking me in to Accra again tonight - it's a long hour taxi ride - to check on my luggage, but he's being a good sport.

Today Mercy, the assistant director of PCO, has taken me all around - meeting UN and camp bigwigs. I queried the clinic personnel about HIV transmission and such, and they're very with it We just had a yummy lunch of "kallar" (collard) greens with herring/chicken and rice. Very spicy. I tried the fufu which is cassava pounded and boiled and such - it was yummy. All good with food.

It's hot here though not extreme - I'm sweating up a storm with everybody else, but I'm having a skirt made right now and that will help. While I really do hope for my luggage, I'm resigning myself to the possibility that it may never arrive - and one pair of pants simply will not do.

It's going to be hard for me to check/respond to email because it's very slow and I need to ask everybody to not send me email forwards.
The level of friendliness here is very comfortable - polite and welcoming but not pushy.

Anyway, don't know if this is too long to post, but I'll try now before my time runs out. And then pick up my skirt, go back to the house and have a nap maybe, and then back to Emanuel to the airport.

We had a meeting today about the projects and it looks like I'll be able to lend a helping hand with several different projects - both children's and adult literacy - and school set-up, so it will all be good. I'll be going house-to-house this week speaking with parents about children enrollment, so that will be nice intro to people.

in Portland

Enjoying my last days in the US with Avery and Ashton and their parents, too. Last minute shopping (a frantic run to REI last night for help reassembling my carry-on), watching Avery's golf lessons (every other kid in there was blond, whereas the space right next to it with some sort of gymnastics was all Chinese and Indian kids - strange segregation!). BTW, Avery is extremely interested in China right now, has made the goal to see the Great Wall (asked if I'll take him there when he's 18 or so) and has started asking all sorts of questions about his Chinese great-grandparents. We got a world map so he can trace where I'm traveling over the next months.

Ashton has developed a skill that will help him for the rest of his life - he does something mischievous and then smiles this great smile that melts the wrong-doing. Let's hope he continues to use his powers for good, because it's quite a smile (which he refuses to allow to be photographed until he copyrights it).

I take off EAAARLY tomorrow - it will be very hard to force myself out of that most comfortable king-size bed to endure two days of flying to Ghana.

Serendipity

Yesterday as I was packing, I got the very strong urge to go to REI to buy packing cubes to keep my suitcases organized. I actually think I have enough space to take not only clothes for Ghana, but also some skirts and warm clothes for Jordan - even a coat is packed in there now. And while several things will come out of the suitcase in Ghana (stuff I'm taking to the camp to leave there), it would be so nice to be organized.

So I went to REI, and as I was looking over the packing cubes (which aren't really cubes - they don't have equal length sides) I saw a dog to my right that looked familiar. Josie?! I looked up and yes, I think, yes, it was Jacque - an old friend I haven't seen for a few years. It was cool to see Jacque and Josie and meet Victoria who seems interesting and nice, and to catch up.

What are the chances that we would be there at the same time? I was definitely compelled to go to REI right then, and happened to recognize Josie. Jacque didn't recognize me, and she looks really different too and am not sure I would recognize her without Josie.

So much of my life is serendipitous. If not for that turn there, that action there, things would be so very different. I might not be taking MEEWT if it weren't for a few key people - such as Mary from Montana that I met while kayaking in Baja in March. She had taken a round-the-world trip a couple years ago and had good advice and made it seem real and possible. And if I hadn't had an internship last summer with sometimes too little to do, I would not have responded to the Graduate Student Association's call for applications for Academic Affairs Officer. But I did, and was appointed, and through a strange off-hand comment from the VP about a conference in Sacramento I ended up there one weekend in February (where I met Greg). And if it hadn't been for the free open bar at the hotel we were staying at and my travel companions Donovan and Bryon and I wanting to get GSA's money's worth and try new drinks for free, I never would have had the buzz when I went to the conference banquet. Without that liquid courage, I probably wouldn't have struck up a conversation with our server, Mahmoud, who probably gave me his email address to make me just be quiet. But he responded and while I had found this Arabic study program in Jordan on the internet, his validation of it (since he went to school at that university) made it more real.

So, I'm going to Jordan because of a boring internship day and good gin (which Susan would say does not exist, but I'm partial to slurping juniper). It also is a result of not getting the full fellowship to study in Egypt and all the silly meetings and hoops to jump through with that program. I'm a better independent traveler - don't have the patience for idiots to tell me what to do. All sorts of factors converge to make things happen. Fascinating.

I leave the US early Saturday mornbing, and I plan to go to Portland tomorrow after a haircut. Apparently a haircut is no longer just a haircut. For the past almost year, Sabine and I have made Vidal Sassoon in Santa Monica our haircare destination - spending a full, long day in traffic and in the salon for that just-right color and cut. Honestly, it always felt like a little mini-vacation because when I'm trapped in the chair, there ain't much I can do about it. I always read, but I can't do all the other things I need to do. Anyway, so this time I'm going to Mos Faded here in Eugene. I've liked Lara's hair since she hooked up with Sadie, and it's from Eli at Mos Faded so here I go. But it's not just a haircut, as his website reveals. It's a Barbershop and refuge from the monolithic culture of Eugene.

Not that there aren't aspects of the monolithic culture that appeal to me - here in Eugene is where I became an adult. Many of my values are clearly developed here - such as for recycling, good and cheap and organic food, alternative transportation (people here actually WALK and BIKE instead of drive everywhere), and political activism. But now that I've lived in SoCal, the monochromaticity of the populace here makes me uncomfortable.

Today is all about the applications for grad and law schools. Essay writing and bullshitting and all that. I did some drafts a couple months ago but they didn't flow so I'll do them today, the last day I can, and not give a hoot about flow - just get them finished. Ah crap. The central law school application is available on-line now ... meaning I actually have to do it now before I leave. I should be happy about that, but I'd given up hope and thought I'd just take care of it all from Jordan - at much greater expense (having to FedEx things to the schools from there). Of course it couldn't be available when I had my high-speed internet connection ... so this will be a very long day on the computer. Sigh. But then it will all be finished and that will feel good. So, now I'll walk the dogs and make a decision about which law schools I really want to apply to (even though now I'm only thinking about surviving the next year and can't even think about after that), and write incredible essays for each one, and fill out all applications, and send everything off. Yawn.

Cabin on the McKenzie River

We went out to Susan's brother's family's cabin on the McKenzie River - very beautiful. Here's the view from the deck.

It's effing hot here in town and sans A/C.

I'm getting really ready to be going. But until then, it seems I'm eating everything possible - just had a fudgesicle because I can. And soon I can't. It probably goes without saying that the Mexican food here sucks in comparison to Riverside offerings.

Everything I want to take easily fits into my luggage, but the stock-up of lotion, soap, etc. does weigh much. I could probably still get it all checked in without fees, but part of the fun of traveling is to have to find new products - and besides, Siva says I can get whatever I want in Madras, and I'm sure that's also the case in Jordan (if not Irbid, then Amman). And, the more room for books, the better. I'm not taking a lot of clothes - because I can do handwashing regularly, because I'm traveling through wet hot summers and cold winters and cannot possibly take enough for all anyway, and because I'll buy things along the way. A couple warm things in Jordan, a couple salwar kameez in India.

Eugene

Eugene and Riverside have about the same population, but there the similarity ends. Think of Eugene as a bleached-out slow-motion version of Riverside. EVERYBODY is white (OK, nearly everybody - I just ran into Sadie at Trader Joe's, but she has a London accent so she's white in a way I guess) - Susan and I were out to dinner the other night and every adult in the room was white - but there were two children of color (one black, the other Asian), each with a white couple and other white children. Susan said, "Well, you have to start somewhere" [with diversity] but I disagree. People can't have relationships - romantic and friendship - with people of other races? Only adopt babies and then teach them to be white when they look brown?

And driving here is a trip. Areas posted at 30 mph would be 40 mph in Riverside (and people would go 50 mph) but here people go like 20 mph in those areas. I'm trying to be patient and adjust to the speed, but it feels like the slow-mo like at the beginning of the Six Million Dollar Man. If there were not cafes and drive-through espresso stands on EVERY street corner, clearly all of Eugene would lapse into a comatose state.

There's also a lot more homegrown stuff here - far fewer national chains and far more local shops. Less emphasis on conformity and standardization. Less cultivation - lots of pretty, wild-looking gardens rather than all that manicured lawn crap of SoCal. Of course tied to that are Children Without Discipline - they run wild everywhere because mommy and daddy (or whoever is doing mommy now) are afraid of somehow inhibiting the spirit of little Roseblossom and Sagebranch. Clearly ever telling a small child "no" would irreparably bruise their little auras. All I can say - the next little kid that runs screaming in front of my cart gets mowed down. I stop for no demon seed. I actually heard a 4-year-old today telling his mother exactly what she needed to buy for him and that he would allow no excuses. Um, we are bigger for a reason. How does a person learn self-restraint and maturity if never expected to exercise it? I may even revise my anti-corporal punishment stance if I spend enough time here.

Here's Susan in her natural habitat - REI. OK, my natural habitat, but she's a good sport about helping me with shopping.

And here's Selma hiding from the veterinarian. If we can't see her, we'll forget about her, right? I took her yesterday for her annual check-up and immunizations - because it's not bad enough that I abandon her and only visit irregularly. Heck, I may as well be the one responsible for her misery, too. As the technician was holding her down while the vet shoved a thermometer up her ass, the look Selma gave me was so clearly, "You will pay," that I'll be looking out for the rest of the time I'm here.

I think I'm about finished with shopping now - just bought the final suitcase and will start loading everything up to see how it all fits. The hardest thing will be getting the weight down to 20 kilos (44 pounds) because mostly what I want to take are books. As with all my life, screw the clothing and makeup and all that - books are most important. If I have to choose between War and Peace and soap, well, at least Tolstoy won't care if I stink.

Jordan info

A site with lots of info about Jordan here.

Greeting

I often greet my friends, after being repeatedly told to by my students, with "what up dawg?"

When Selma came into the living room and I greeted her with a "what up dawg?" I realized that it was true on so many levels.

Multitasker

I just got this picture processed - from a year and a half ago when Ashton was born - and it made me realize two things. First, I am SO OVER non-digital cameras. Second, I am quite the multi-tasker. I'm here putting a baby to sleep (bottles there to the right, so I must have just fed him), petting my dog, and reading. What am I, some sort of domestic intellectual? Is multitasking my superpower?

in Oregon

For those who do not know her, here is my Selma. Siva said this morning that Selma is an overthinker - she never stops processing and scheming - her eyes are always shifting, her mental gears always turning. True dat! Just like me, the brain never turns off.

And here is Otter, the sweetest dog ever. Of course I love my Selma and think she's great - but I also know how she lacks compassion - her response to most situations is, "Get over it!" Otter more than makes up for that, making them a great team. Otter is also why Selma doesn't usually live with me - while Selma is incredibly adaptable and can fit well into any situation and always looks forward, Otter gets despondent when I take Selma away. She mopes - won't eat, won't get out of bed. She is miserable without Selma. And since neither are young anymore (Selma just turned 11 and Otter will this December), it seems selfish to take Selma away.

And here are Toby, Sadie, and Lara. He's such a mellow guy - but very active and he's going to be BIG! He'll outgrow his moms by the time he's 10. (I think they had him just so there's somebody around to get stuff off the top shelves.) Lara is my oldest friend I still see regularly - we've known each other since 6th grade, when she moved to Sitka. It's great to see her happy!

up to Oregon

OK, blog fans. Entries may be few and far between because Susan has DIAL-UP. As does Amy. And I'm not exactly the paragon of patience. Computer won't upload pictures ... will try to do so on Shutterfly. [ARGH! It won't let me add more images - so go to http://meewt.shutterfly.com for all recent pictures - I'll keep that updates.]

I'm in Oregon - safe and sound and all that. Saturday was moving all stuff - huge thanks to Pam and Michele and Sabine. A particularly amusing moment was when I woke up from a nap in Michele's bed to find that she was at the grocery store while Sabine and Jenny were swimming in her pool and Pam watching her huge TV. Go Camp Ko! Adding to the camp environment - as Jenny said, it's like being on vacation as Pam works her magic with grill and then even cleans up! Wow!

Sunday ... I was up at 6 am to go back to my apartment and finish packing. Met Jenny and Michele for a final Templo breakfast - where I realized my perfect breakfast ordering strategy - get my friends to get what I want and just eat off their plates. "I'll just have an empty plate, Yolanda," I said - and fortunately she already knew I'm insane. But apparently I'm not the only one who covets her neighbor's food.

Then a final load to storage and a final nap at Michele's. Off to Monterey!

Finally got to Ruiqi and Bruce's new home. It's very lovely - roomy and good energy flow - though I do have to laugh at the realtor's description of it as "affordable housing." A million dollar home is affordable? Not in my universe. Ruiqi made a great dinner - mostly Chinese and she remembered I like deviled eggs. Great conversation - good to see them happy! Next time I must be sure to stay a couple of days on a weekend and go play.

The next morning, up at the crack of dawn AGAIN and on to Davis to see Mahmoud. I am now officially VERY EXCITED about going to Jordan. He showed me some pictures and gave me lots of details and I'm really looking forward to it. It was a short, enjoyable couple of hours, and then I had to take off for Eugene.

Which is where I am now. With two very, very happy dogs (pictures to follow) and I finally met Susan's roommate Sivi - who is from Chennai in India where I'm going in January. It's a small world, and I get to find connections everywhere! Woo hoo.

And surprising good news about Jordan - Mahmoud will actually be there when I'm there. He'll even pick me up at the airport. And who better to visit Petra with than a Jordanian anthropologist who happens to speak incredibly good English and is very nice and interesting? How lucky am I? I am so lucky that when I was speeding on my way up here, the vehicle ahead of me that I was catching up to got pulled over - not me. Not that I want anybody to suffer misfortune, of course, but I seem to be in quite a spell of good fortune.

I have much to do while here - friends to reconnect with, and a newborn Toby to meet, and trails to hike with eager dogs, and mosquito nets to order, and packing details to finalize, and all those things. But I'm really on vacation now! Woo hoo! Everybody in this house goes to bed long before 10 pm (my hurry for getting here not too late), which is a very different sleep schedule for me.

Well, maybe I'll get some reading done while I wait for the pictures to upload on this very slow connection. I guess this is just preparing me for my travels - I had this vision of me blogging very interesting pictures regularly, but paying for this lack of speed will kill me.