Safety is Paramount
Monday, 4 June
Once again things started off slow. Learning from our earlier mistake of arriving at the center hours before everyone else, we did not venture downstairs immediately; rather, we went for walk around the area. We purchased some papayas and bread; I finally found a razor for 6500 Le (3000 Le=$1) with "platinum coated twin blades" to replace my still missing luggage. We found a street merchant carrying, on his head, lightly sweetened flat bread covered in sesame seeds, which was absolutely fantastic.
We returned to the center around 10 am, where the students taught us a card game named "demon" and were certain that we were frequently visit casinos, as Sara awed them by shuffling the cards. They couldn't believe that neither of us had ever been to a casino.
The students off handedly told us that something had crashed at Lungi yesterday. After considerable effort - they have a habit of talking in Krio, which we can't understand very well - we found that one of the Paramount Airline helicopters crashed, killing twenty people, including some high ranking officials from Togo who were here for the football match. Please realize that this is all second hand as we don't read cnn.com every morning here in Salone, so that information may not be entirely accurate. Nevertheless, Sara and I were on the helicopter three days before it crashed, so we were quite shaken - the students didn't see what the big deal was, as I guess air accidents are nothing unusual here. Parmount's slogan is "Safety is Paramount."
Andrew finally showed up around 11 - he had a "long sleep" - and then took us down to the British Airways office on Wilberforce street to check on the status our missing luggage. The BA office in London can apparently track the luggage, but need a "ten digit luggage file reference number" which you get upon filing your missing luggage claim. Continuing our string of less than satisfactory luck, the man in the office at Lungi failed to give the number to us last thursday. We were finally able to cox the number from the BA office here this morning, so our parents could call the London office and investigate further. Sara's parents were told that her luggage has vanished somewhere between London Heathrow and Freetown, and my luggage seems to have never even made it onto the first flight in St. Louis! The Freetown office told us to "cross our fingers" that the luggage would arrive on the flight this evening but was unable to offer any real assistance. They are supposed to call us tomorrow if it comes in, but I have a feeling that they might just "forget" to call us. British Airways Freetown seems to have no relation to the rest of British Airways.
On our way back we stopped by A. Yazbeck and Sons, an auto dealership that also serves as travel agency and American Express office. It is quite western in style and managed by Raymond, who has this wonderful ability to make things happen (which is unheard of in Salone) and knows just about everyone.
We arrived back at a now bustling iEARN center around 1 pm, but we were drenched in sweat from being out in the midday humidity and so sought refuge upstairs for a few minutes. We returned to the center, where I finally found a US-UK power plug adapter so I could charge my laptop. I did some photo editing while Sara tried to send some emails, but the internet connection was rather intermittent. The pictures so far have been rather lacking. I think this is a combination of adjusting to a new camera and that it is impossible to take a picture without having everyone staring at the "white man." I'd love to use the indestructible Nikon FA film camera and 50 mm lens, but as I can't easily develop the film until I return home, I'll probably stick with digital.
Later in afternoon, we went to Studio J with the iEARN youth to finish recording their new album "Next Next Generation," which touches on topics ranging from drug abuse to love to development to education, but the generator refused to come alive despite nearly an hour of waiting for the Lebanese owners of the studio to fix it, so we walked back to the center where I took advantage of the electricity to write the previous two days of blog entries until the generator ran out of fuel, a daily event which causes activity at the center to cease. Gasoline is about 12500 Le/gallon (just over four dollars) which, considering the state of the economy, is incredibly expensive.
We asked Moses to go out with us to find some food, as we had yet to have anything besides bread and papaya to eat. Sadly, today I devoured my last three Haribo gummy bears from London...just over 70 days until I can buy more. Moses took us to "The Pride Restaurant" just north of the National Stadium, which primarily served Western food, but was out of just about everything we wanted and didn't have any African food. There seems to a be a push towards western food away from traditional foods; everyone at IEARN is shocked that Sara and I only want the native dishes, although I must admit it is sometimes a bit challenging to eat a dish when a charred fish is grinning up at you from your bowl. People say "African" instead of "Sierra Leonean" when referring to culture, especially food and dress - it's almost as if the national identity was destroyed during the war. This shocked me, as using the word "Africa" in a US university class room when you actually mean a specific nation (Uganda, for instance) will immediately earn you a rather severe reprimand. Anyways, Sara ordered some potato chips (french fries), Moses some sausage and bread thing, and I an egg sandwich, expecting a nice, fairly safe meat-less meal after Sara gave me the "what are you thinking" look when I initially tried to order a hamburger. (Sara spent a semester in Ghana last year and had some rough experiences with certain foods...) As it turns out, an egg sandwich is two slices of bread, ketchup, a fried egg, cucumber slices and a thin hamburger patty. I was too hungary to care about getting sick, so I gobbled it down and enjoyed a Vimto soda, which I can best describe a grape Doctor Pepper. There was an internet cafe attached to the restaurant, so Sara and I both checked our email - it was so nice to have a real connection, as the internet at the center is often too slow to accomplish anything. By now the streets were just lit by headlights as we raced the rain back to the hostel and gave Moses 5000 Le for a taxi ride back home to the barracks, although I have a feeling he'll just save it and walk instead.
I'm sitting on my bed surrounded by the mosquito net with the sound of the generator outside drowning out everything else, except for the rain and the death throes of various scary insects on the mosquito net - it seems to be coated with some sort of insecticide. We both took showers but have given up on washing clothes and simply accept that we will reek. I'm in awe of anyone who can actually clean clothes by hand - I've been unable to get the red dust out of my clothes.
Once again things started off slow. Learning from our earlier mistake of arriving at the center hours before everyone else, we did not venture downstairs immediately; rather, we went for walk around the area. We purchased some papayas and bread; I finally found a razor for 6500 Le (3000 Le=$1) with "platinum coated twin blades" to replace my still missing luggage. We found a street merchant carrying, on his head, lightly sweetened flat bread covered in sesame seeds, which was absolutely fantastic.
We returned to the center around 10 am, where the students taught us a card game named "demon" and were certain that we were frequently visit casinos, as Sara awed them by shuffling the cards. They couldn't believe that neither of us had ever been to a casino.
The students off handedly told us that something had crashed at Lungi yesterday. After considerable effort - they have a habit of talking in Krio, which we can't understand very well - we found that one of the Paramount Airline helicopters crashed, killing twenty people, including some high ranking officials from Togo who were here for the football match. Please realize that this is all second hand as we don't read cnn.com every morning here in Salone, so that information may not be entirely accurate. Nevertheless, Sara and I were on the helicopter three days before it crashed, so we were quite shaken - the students didn't see what the big deal was, as I guess air accidents are nothing unusual here. Parmount's slogan is "Safety is Paramount."
Andrew finally showed up around 11 - he had a "long sleep" - and then took us down to the British Airways office on Wilberforce street to check on the status our missing luggage. The BA office in London can apparently track the luggage, but need a "ten digit luggage file reference number" which you get upon filing your missing luggage claim. Continuing our string of less than satisfactory luck, the man in the office at Lungi failed to give the number to us last thursday. We were finally able to cox the number from the BA office here this morning, so our parents could call the London office and investigate further. Sara's parents were told that her luggage has vanished somewhere between London Heathrow and Freetown, and my luggage seems to have never even made it onto the first flight in St. Louis! The Freetown office told us to "cross our fingers" that the luggage would arrive on the flight this evening but was unable to offer any real assistance. They are supposed to call us tomorrow if it comes in, but I have a feeling that they might just "forget" to call us. British Airways Freetown seems to have no relation to the rest of British Airways.
On our way back we stopped by A. Yazbeck and Sons, an auto dealership that also serves as travel agency and American Express office. It is quite western in style and managed by Raymond, who has this wonderful ability to make things happen (which is unheard of in Salone) and knows just about everyone.
We arrived back at a now bustling iEARN center around 1 pm, but we were drenched in sweat from being out in the midday humidity and so sought refuge upstairs for a few minutes. We returned to the center, where I finally found a US-UK power plug adapter so I could charge my laptop. I did some photo editing while Sara tried to send some emails, but the internet connection was rather intermittent. The pictures so far have been rather lacking. I think this is a combination of adjusting to a new camera and that it is impossible to take a picture without having everyone staring at the "white man." I'd love to use the indestructible Nikon FA film camera and 50 mm lens, but as I can't easily develop the film until I return home, I'll probably stick with digital.
Later in afternoon, we went to Studio J with the iEARN youth to finish recording their new album "Next Next Generation," which touches on topics ranging from drug abuse to love to development to education, but the generator refused to come alive despite nearly an hour of waiting for the Lebanese owners of the studio to fix it, so we walked back to the center where I took advantage of the electricity to write the previous two days of blog entries until the generator ran out of fuel, a daily event which causes activity at the center to cease. Gasoline is about 12500 Le/gallon (just over four dollars) which, considering the state of the economy, is incredibly expensive.
We asked Moses to go out with us to find some food, as we had yet to have anything besides bread and papaya to eat. Sadly, today I devoured my last three Haribo gummy bears from London...just over 70 days until I can buy more. Moses took us to "The Pride Restaurant" just north of the National Stadium, which primarily served Western food, but was out of just about everything we wanted and didn't have any African food. There seems to a be a push towards western food away from traditional foods; everyone at IEARN is shocked that Sara and I only want the native dishes, although I must admit it is sometimes a bit challenging to eat a dish when a charred fish is grinning up at you from your bowl. People say "African" instead of "Sierra Leonean" when referring to culture, especially food and dress - it's almost as if the national identity was destroyed during the war. This shocked me, as using the word "Africa" in a US university class room when you actually mean a specific nation (Uganda, for instance) will immediately earn you a rather severe reprimand. Anyways, Sara ordered some potato chips (french fries), Moses some sausage and bread thing, and I an egg sandwich, expecting a nice, fairly safe meat-less meal after Sara gave me the "what are you thinking" look when I initially tried to order a hamburger. (Sara spent a semester in Ghana last year and had some rough experiences with certain foods...) As it turns out, an egg sandwich is two slices of bread, ketchup, a fried egg, cucumber slices and a thin hamburger patty. I was too hungary to care about getting sick, so I gobbled it down and enjoyed a Vimto soda, which I can best describe a grape Doctor Pepper. There was an internet cafe attached to the restaurant, so Sara and I both checked our email - it was so nice to have a real connection, as the internet at the center is often too slow to accomplish anything. By now the streets were just lit by headlights as we raced the rain back to the hostel and gave Moses 5000 Le for a taxi ride back home to the barracks, although I have a feeling he'll just save it and walk instead.
I'm sitting on my bed surrounded by the mosquito net with the sound of the generator outside drowning out everything else, except for the rain and the death throes of various scary insects on the mosquito net - it seems to be coated with some sort of insecticide. We both took showers but have given up on washing clothes and simply accept that we will reek. I'm in awe of anyone who can actually clean clothes by hand - I've been unable to get the red dust out of my clothes.
posted by Paul at
6:55 PM
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