C...O...W...
Tuesday, 5 June
Sara and I ventured out this morning in search of an internet cafe and purchased some pineapple and bread for breakfast...the bread definitely had crunchy insects in it, but I was too hungry to care. We waited at the iEARN center for Andrew to arrive. We were upset - everything was falling apart and our parents could not track our luggage; without it we may have had to return home. We were tired, as the call to prayer at the mosques at 5 am combined with a bed that has a broken slats for very little sleep. We were smelly, for we had been wearing the same pair of clothes for almost seven days. We were sick of sitting around, doing nothing, waiting for change like everyone else in this country.
Thankfully (and to be honest, quite unexpectedly), British Airways called around 11, saying "We have luggage," but couldn't say exactly what had arrived. We hailed a taxi for our third trip to the BA office. While in transit we encountered a crowd of people surrounding the police station. Andrew explained that yesterday a 17-year-old boy borrowed 4000 Le, or just over a dollar, from a friend, but refused to pay him back. The friend wasn't too happy about that as he knifed the boy, who died shortly after. The friend was arrested and will likely face prison; the crowd was waiting for something to be decided about the case. The streets of Freetown never cease to be interesting, as they are undeniably the center of daily life, serving as everything from marketplaces to sewers. The center of Freetown is full of beggars who will come up to the taxi window and plead for money. I always ignore them as the poverty here is so great that it is impossible to get involved with everyone who asks you for help. Anyways, begging on the street is not exactly sustainable development...
Most of the buildings show evidence of the war; some are burned out concrete structures. Most have been rebuilt and the situation is definitely improving, but you will still find "Combat N------" and "Bad Boyz Crew" scrawled on the walls - likely the names of rebel groups who invaded the city in 1999.
After avoiding the crowds and beggars, we hesitantly went into the BA office, as it was unlikely for all four pieces to have arrived. We raced into the luggage room, saw our luggage - all unharmed - and gave each other quite the hug. We returned to the hostel and rushed to our room to revel in all the wonderful goodies inside our bags - clothes, shampoo, soap, my cameras and Sara's jump-ropes (Sara will be working on a jump-rope project with the youth). I took an absolutely delicious shower in the fantastically frigid water and put on fresh clean clothes. We savored the luggage's scent - home has that wonderful smell that simply can't be surpassed.
We went down to the iEARN center and I began to set up all the electronics, but I plugged in a 120V power strip to the 240 V "grid" which it runs off a gas-guzzling generator outside. Anyways, all the computers and the TV turned off and thirty upset youth stared at the American with an smoking powerstrip in his hands. Frederic immediately went to work and with thirty minutes of jerryrigging the electrical cables had everything back to work, although there is absolutely no way any of it would pass inspection in the US...
Meanwhile, Andrew had us meet with Alhaji Aziz, the manager of the hostel and national stadium compound. Due to his support, iEARN has been able to use the the facilities free of charge since 2002. He was a very nice gentleman and said "my youth was spent in a different country," as the post-Independence Sierra Leone was quite prosperous up until the war in the early '90's. Hopefully I can interview him on video later in the summer.
Then Frederic and I took a taxi downtown to the "shopping district" to replace the fried powerstrips. After some shopping in various electronics stores which are all owed by Lebanese, I purchased two powerstrips for 50,000 Le. In the taxi on the way back I met Kabba, who is a police officer and body guard at the Ministry of Tourism. He and Frederic explained that everyone with money was able to leave the nation during the war. When asked about the abundance of Lebanese shop owners, they explained that the banks and government will only give loans and business support to foreigners, as they will apparently pay back the loan, and, as a result, the Lebanese own all the actual stores in Freetown. I have a feeling the real reason is slightly more complicated...
After finally plugging in all my equipment to charge, Franklyn Koroma (a staff member who has just returned from an iEARN conference in New York), Andrew, Dabo, Sara and myself went Marianella for dinner and staff meeting. We had ginger beer, a milky drink made from ground ginger roots. While I don't think it contains any alcohol, it comes in a very shady used plastic water bottle. Anyways, it was quite good. They were out of African food, so we were returned to the center, as Andrew's girlfriend had prepared rice with potato leaf sauce.
As the guests, everyone else waited for Sara and I to eat. There was an unusual fatty slice of something on the top, we weren't sure what it was. Sara and I poked around the bowl, avoiding the mysterious slice but enjoying the wonderful rice and sauce. A brief investigation was inconclusive, but did reveal that the mystery slice was too tough to cut. We summoned Franklyn over to tell us what it was.
" It is the skin of an animal. An animal that we have in Sierra Leone."
He paused to cut half of the slice off with a spoon, which he devoured with some rice and sauce. Still confused, we asked him what animal.
"The animal is called a C... O.... W...."
He carefully spelled the word out, just in case we couldn't figure it out. I managed to eat some of it; let's just say it was a very different experience.
Franklyn has offered to take us to the Special Court where he has several friends working and to his house; both should be quite interesting.
Sara and I then meandered out alone to the internet cafe to send some emails and upload pictures. We found out that they have free (and incredibly fast, for SL) wireless internet, but if you want to use one of their ancient computers, you have to pay 1000 Le every 15 minutes. I'll never understand this country....
I returned to the center to import some video, as I finally have all the equipment. Sara went up to the room to wash clothes, take a shower, and relax in all the western amenities that we packed in our luggage. I'd like to work up there as well, but the electrical outlets in the room there don't work (although we do have one generator-powered light bulb from 8pm to midnight). The city is powered entirely by generator; there is no central electrical grid anymore; it was destroyed during the war and the government is currently plodding foreword in reconstructing it.
Sara and I ventured out this morning in search of an internet cafe and purchased some pineapple and bread for breakfast...the bread definitely had crunchy insects in it, but I was too hungry to care. We waited at the iEARN center for Andrew to arrive. We were upset - everything was falling apart and our parents could not track our luggage; without it we may have had to return home. We were tired, as the call to prayer at the mosques at 5 am combined with a bed that has a broken slats for very little sleep. We were smelly, for we had been wearing the same pair of clothes for almost seven days. We were sick of sitting around, doing nothing, waiting for change like everyone else in this country.
Thankfully (and to be honest, quite unexpectedly), British Airways called around 11, saying "We have luggage," but couldn't say exactly what had arrived. We hailed a taxi for our third trip to the BA office. While in transit we encountered a crowd of people surrounding the police station. Andrew explained that yesterday a 17-year-old boy borrowed 4000 Le, or just over a dollar, from a friend, but refused to pay him back. The friend wasn't too happy about that as he knifed the boy, who died shortly after. The friend was arrested and will likely face prison; the crowd was waiting for something to be decided about the case. The streets of Freetown never cease to be interesting, as they are undeniably the center of daily life, serving as everything from marketplaces to sewers. The center of Freetown is full of beggars who will come up to the taxi window and plead for money. I always ignore them as the poverty here is so great that it is impossible to get involved with everyone who asks you for help. Anyways, begging on the street is not exactly sustainable development...
Most of the buildings show evidence of the war; some are burned out concrete structures. Most have been rebuilt and the situation is definitely improving, but you will still find "Combat N------" and "Bad Boyz Crew" scrawled on the walls - likely the names of rebel groups who invaded the city in 1999.
After avoiding the crowds and beggars, we hesitantly went into the BA office, as it was unlikely for all four pieces to have arrived. We raced into the luggage room, saw our luggage - all unharmed - and gave each other quite the hug. We returned to the hostel and rushed to our room to revel in all the wonderful goodies inside our bags - clothes, shampoo, soap, my cameras and Sara's jump-ropes (Sara will be working on a jump-rope project with the youth). I took an absolutely delicious shower in the fantastically frigid water and put on fresh clean clothes. We savored the luggage's scent - home has that wonderful smell that simply can't be surpassed.
We went down to the iEARN center and I began to set up all the electronics, but I plugged in a 120V power strip to the 240 V "grid" which it runs off a gas-guzzling generator outside. Anyways, all the computers and the TV turned off and thirty upset youth stared at the American with an smoking powerstrip in his hands. Frederic immediately went to work and with thirty minutes of jerryrigging the electrical cables had everything back to work, although there is absolutely no way any of it would pass inspection in the US...
Meanwhile, Andrew had us meet with Alhaji Aziz, the manager of the hostel and national stadium compound. Due to his support, iEARN has been able to use the the facilities free of charge since 2002. He was a very nice gentleman and said "my youth was spent in a different country," as the post-Independence Sierra Leone was quite prosperous up until the war in the early '90's. Hopefully I can interview him on video later in the summer.
Then Frederic and I took a taxi downtown to the "shopping district" to replace the fried powerstrips. After some shopping in various electronics stores which are all owed by Lebanese, I purchased two powerstrips for 50,000 Le. In the taxi on the way back I met Kabba, who is a police officer and body guard at the Ministry of Tourism. He and Frederic explained that everyone with money was able to leave the nation during the war. When asked about the abundance of Lebanese shop owners, they explained that the banks and government will only give loans and business support to foreigners, as they will apparently pay back the loan, and, as a result, the Lebanese own all the actual stores in Freetown. I have a feeling the real reason is slightly more complicated...
After finally plugging in all my equipment to charge, Franklyn Koroma (a staff member who has just returned from an iEARN conference in New York), Andrew, Dabo, Sara and myself went Marianella for dinner and staff meeting. We had ginger beer, a milky drink made from ground ginger roots. While I don't think it contains any alcohol, it comes in a very shady used plastic water bottle. Anyways, it was quite good. They were out of African food, so we were returned to the center, as Andrew's girlfriend had prepared rice with potato leaf sauce.
As the guests, everyone else waited for Sara and I to eat. There was an unusual fatty slice of something on the top, we weren't sure what it was. Sara and I poked around the bowl, avoiding the mysterious slice but enjoying the wonderful rice and sauce. A brief investigation was inconclusive, but did reveal that the mystery slice was too tough to cut. We summoned Franklyn over to tell us what it was.
" It is the skin of an animal. An animal that we have in Sierra Leone."
He paused to cut half of the slice off with a spoon, which he devoured with some rice and sauce. Still confused, we asked him what animal.
"The animal is called a C... O.... W...."
He carefully spelled the word out, just in case we couldn't figure it out. I managed to eat some of it; let's just say it was a very different experience.
Franklyn has offered to take us to the Special Court where he has several friends working and to his house; both should be quite interesting.
Sara and I then meandered out alone to the internet cafe to send some emails and upload pictures. We found out that they have free (and incredibly fast, for SL) wireless internet, but if you want to use one of their ancient computers, you have to pay 1000 Le every 15 minutes. I'll never understand this country....
I returned to the center to import some video, as I finally have all the equipment. Sara went up to the room to wash clothes, take a shower, and relax in all the western amenities that we packed in our luggage. I'd like to work up there as well, but the electrical outlets in the room there don't work (although we do have one generator-powered light bulb from 8pm to midnight). The city is powered entirely by generator; there is no central electrical grid anymore; it was destroyed during the war and the government is currently plodding foreword in reconstructing it.
posted by Paul at
10:52 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home